World : Marvel
Crossover : No
Link : https://archiveofourown.org/works/45402988/chapters/114234247
My opinion : I really like Hela as a character, even more after the What if season 2. She really needs some happiness in her life but there are not many fics regarding her. This one is one of the gem among them and I fan guarantee that you won't be disappointed.
Words : 53k
Chapters : 15
Summary : Sometimes a family is a self exiled princess of Asgard, a presumed dead genius heir, a Brooklyn born Soviet raised assassin with no sense of self, a number of brainwashed little girls with an affinity for classical dancing and espionage, an alien feline, and magical annoyances that include Agatha Harkness and non Agatha Harkness-es.
Chapter 1 : let it go
[many centuries before Christ's birth]
The Valkyries' steps behind her were light.
Like the claws of soft footed panthers they marked the ground after her, not even the weapons on their form making any sort of noise.
A pack. Seeing them from a distance, someone might have mistaken them for one. Hela, at the very front, with her raven helmet over her head as she walked forward. And the Valkyries behind her, moving just as steadily and quietly, senses stretched but their eyes fixed on the back of her head, as watchful as ever.
She wondered how many of them would have seen this walk for what it was. How long would they have had to watch before they saw what they had mistaken for the leader as the prey?
How many people would see the group move and notice the ambush in the making? How many would look at the Valkyrie and Hela, and see a tiger being led to slaughter?
Not a lamb, of course. A lamb would have been cut down with ease and, ever so trusting as it was, it would not have seen the blade coming until its blood was spilling on the ground.
Hela was not so innocent, nor was she so naive.
Hela had seen the butchering tool before it had been lifted, before any of them had even been handed it.
She was no lamb. A lamb would thrash but, in the end, accept its fate with terrified whimpers and screams.
A tiger would take down everyone that stood between it and its own freedom, and would do anything – no matter how dangerous or immoral – to preserve its own life.
Even take down those it considered its own.
So when the steps behind her – soundless to everyone but never to her – paused, Hela knew it was time.
She took a couple more steps before turning around.
The Valkyries remained standing where they were, strong, shoulder to shoulder with one another. Their faces were grim, but the certainty of their task remained unwavering in their eyes.
Hela's heart ached at the sight.
She had trained these women. She had shaped them into what they now were, taught them tricks and ways of beating warriors double their size, ways of making others respect them through the truth of fists, ways to make people fear even only their name, ways of becoming a collective without losing what made them them.
She had loved them, every single one of them. Always loved them as shield-sisters and cared for each and every one of them.
She had laid with some of them and shared more than sisterly affection with others.
She had loved them all and the truth of the matter was that, despite all of this, despite what would pass? Hela knew they loved her too. Hela knew they still loved her, and she could see it in the twitch of their expressions when she glanced at them, in the way they gripped their weapons tighter.
They did not want to do this.
But they would – for Asgard.
And Hela was not a lamb, she was a tiger. She was a tiger thirsting for life and for blood, and she would not let anyone, anything – not even love – stand in her way.
So she stood straighter, and raised an eyebrow. "Why have you stopped?"
Would they dare speak the truth? Would they dare tell her what their orders were?
Or would they lie? Would they attack without warning, would they come for her hoping that broken truths would save them all from a painful end?
Or would they say nothing? Would they hide their reasons, and hope she would die not knowing the truth, not knowing what had brought forth this betrayal?
Hela had trained these ladies. But, as she looked into their eyes, she could not tell what their thoughts were.
She knew what they were capable of. She wondered if they knew what they were capable of.
She wondered if they knew what she was capable of.
Anna – the oldest of them all, a sister to Hela and the others – stood up straighter too, ready to speak on behalf of them all, but she was interrupted.
"We must return to Asgard," spoke Brunnhilde, suddenly, stepping in front of the assembled Valkyries and Anna.
Both sides turned to her, surprised in equal measure.
"Brunnhilde?"
"I have received communication from the All-Father," she pronounced, giving Anna a measured look. "The Valkyries are to return to Asgard."
Hela was not often stunned, but this left her so.
She studied Brunnhilde, trying to gleam at what she was attempting to, but her expression was perfectly blank, giving away nothing of her intentions.
Anna must have been doing the same thing. But instead of reacting to it, she seemed to see something in her eyes that Hela did not.
She maintained her gaze. "On your honour?"
"It is as I have been told," claimed Brunnhilde, not vacillating in her stare down.
"Brunnhilde," said Hela, frowning.
She was lying. Hela knew it, Anna knew it, Brunnhilde knew it, and every other Valkyrie knew it too.
They all knew that the All-Father had made no such order, and yet the woman did not budge.
But they did not speak it.
Nobody accused her of anything, nobody fought her word.
Because Hela knew none of them wished to attempt at Hela's life, not truly. They did not truly believe in whatever orders Odin had given them, whatever claims and false testimonies he might have attached to her name.
They did not wish her dead, nor did they wish to attempt to cause her death.
And if a way for them to walk away without shedding blood was offered, they would take it.
"Very well," said Anna, her stance relaxing slightly. "If those are the All-Father's commands, then the Valkyor must return to Asgard. Good luck, my Princess."
"I am not certain I will be the one in need of luck," she said, but still she inclined her head when they all bowed to her at one, bittersweet smiles on each of their faces.
Her Valkyor.
Hela would miss them, and she knew so would they her.
At the same time, she hoped for their sake that they did not see one another again until the All-Father was dead, or until Hela undid her self appointed exile.
Self appointed but most certainly official, now.
She wondered, as the Valkyries turned their backs on her and started to walk away, what lie would the All-Father feed the rest of Asgard.
Would he tell them that she had died in battle? Would he tell them that she had left? Would he tell them she had betrayed Asgard and he had kicked her out of the Realm to save them?
Would he lie to them and tell them he had killed her himself?
Or would he further dishonour the Valkyrie, by saying she had turned on them? Or they had turned on her?
What lie would make the All-Father feel better about himself, if any?
Certainly the truth would not set him free.
"You have to be careful, when you return to Asgard," she said, watching as the Valkyrie grew farther and farther from her. "The Valkyrie will not lie for you anymore than they would have lied for me. They will let the All-Father know who commanded that I was left alive – if he has not already seen it."
Hela doubted Heimdall knew how to see her when she hid herself from his gaze on purpose, but she would not want to chance it by calling out his name.
She had made a decision, when she had walked out of Asgard instead of confronting F- Odin and his lies, and that decision had been to not fight.
Now, as annoying as it felt, she was going to stick by it.
"I have done what I must."
Hela turned her gaze on Brunnhilde. "You did not. You did what you chose to do."
The Valkyrie met her eyes evenly. "I chose between what I could and what I could not live with. My personal reckoning with the All-Father, or the murder of all of my shield sisters and the loss of my General. I chose what I could live with."
Hela smiled. "So I must not thank you for it?"
"You needn't to," agreed Brunnhilde, an imperious expression on her face that was tainted by the smile building at the corner of her lips.
"Mh," said Hela. "Well, then. I hope we never cross paths again until the All-Father is dead."
"To wish the same would be treason," said Brunnhilde, and there was a saddened smile on her face as she said so.
Hela did not pay it any attention.
She moved her head far enough that she could brush her lips atop Brunnhilde's forehead, and then leant back before either of them could seek for more.
She had found long ago that prolonged goodbyes only served to tear the soul apart.
So she did not say or do anything further. She did not even meet Brunnhilde's eyes any longer.
Simply, she turned around and continued to walk in the direction of before.
Brunnhilde did not follow her. She also did not leave for a long time either.
Hela knew without looking back.
While Hela knew she had not made a mistake, the feeling of 'what if' did not leave her as she aimlessly walked.
She did not often dwell in regrets. Frankly, she had never quite believed in having regrets. What was the point of regret, when mistakes created and built you?
She did not see it.
She believed in making choices and mistakes, and while she hated failure, there was only further to learn from it.
Regret robbed you of growth.
Still, as she walked past the borders of the lands she had known all of her life, she could not help but wonder if she had made the right choice after all.
She had not had many choices to choose from, to be fair.
From the second she had walked past Odin's chambers and overheard him talk of the dream he had had, Hela's life as she knew it had ended.
She had not even realised what she had overheard, at first. When she had heard Fat- Odin speak to Frigga of the nightmare he had, the nightmare where Hela had brought forth Ragnarok and harmed Thor, she had not truly understood his fears.
That Odin had been afraid of her since the moment she had been born was not lost on Hela. She had seen it in his eyes all of her life, that careful way in which he 'handled' her, in which he directed her rage and anger towards the enemies of Asgard and the Nines while fearing, all through it, what would occur, were those emotions and powers directed at him.
She had known it in the way her earliest memories of him were rememberings of him cringing away from the sight of her, or handing her to wet nurses and other child rearers in the castle – until, of course, she had first picked up a sword and he had realised he could use her.
He had looked her in her eyes and called her Hela. A newborn child, he had called 'belonging to Hel'.
She knew he had never trusted her. She knew he had always feared her.
She doubted he had ever truly loved or even liked her, and Hela had been okay with that.
She had, after all, not known any better, not known any different. She had not known there was a way of love that did not revolve around fear and resentment until Frigga had come into her life.
Until Thor had come into their life.
Until she had seen the pride, love and affection in his eyes whenever he gazed upon the son he had always wanted, the one he had always hoped for.
Jealousy was an unusual feeling for her, but Hela could not deny she had felt it. She could not deny that, watching their interactions, watching the clear love and affection Odin held for Thor, she had felt hurt.
And she could not deny that she had funnelled these feelings of hers into battle, into getting rid of their opponents as swiftly and efficiently as possible.
But her jealousy had been on the treatment Odin reserved to Thor, and for that alone.
It had been just that: jealousy.
She had felt nothing but affection for her new brother. She had felt nothing but love for him, and the smile on his baby face, and his habit of pulling her hair whenever she was close enough to him.
She had loved him.
She had never felt it aimed towards her, not truly, but she knew her love for him had been that: love.
So Father's dream that she may come to harm Thor and bring upon Ragnarok had not seemed like anything more than that, to her.
She had thought it nothing more than a dream – a nightmare.
Frigga was the Seer in the family. Odin had no such abilities, and his dreams and nightmares were only just conjectures and fabrications of his old mind.
But the man had not seemed to understand that.
Hela would have not made it as far as she had was she not extremely cautious and overly careful even when the situation did not demand it.
So while she had not thought much of his words to Frigga, she had kept her ears open and her steps light as she walked upon the polished floors of the castle, forever wary, forever watchful.
And that was how she had heard the All-Father in counsel with Mimir's head regarding what he 'must do about her'.
Hela, for all her godhood laid in death, had never once heard Mimir's head speak. She was aware of the dark magic surrounding the head, and cautious of its existence. She did not doubt something had been done to it, for it was an abomination to all of her senses and mind.
He should not exist – and she wasn't quite sure it did.
And she had never heard it speak before.
The only person who had ever heard it speak or who could ever converse with it was Odin himself.
Hela had always found this suspicious, but it was not as if there were any on Asgard with whom she might share her worries and/or confusion.
There was Frigga, but even she put her husband and King above everything and everyone else. She might have cared for Hela the way almost no one had done before on Asgard, but Hela was still second best – third best, after the birth of Thor.
This time too, she had not heard what Mimir had told Odin.
But she had heard enough of his one sided conversation to know what was coming for her.
She could have walked into the room, then. She could have walked in after hearing him hint at a plot to her life, and confronted him. Demanded what he was planning to do, and how he could think of doing this to her, his first born, Odisdottir, Princess of Asgard and of the Nine Realms, goddess of Death.
Odin was powerful, but Hela was powerful too and, had she ensured he did not see her coming, she could have laid waste to him before he even knew of what was coming.
She had considered doing so, as the flame of betrayal and rage burned within her.
But then she had thought, and what after?
There was no way the Aesir would not have known what had happened. Patricide, regicide? They would have never forgiven it, unless Hela had had good reason/had been attempting to save her life.
And knowing the Aesir and their feelings towards her – which mirrored those of Odin – they would have attacked first and asked questions later.
Could Hela have laid waste to them and taken over with a bloody fist? If she had killed Odin... yes, she could have.
But again: what after?
Would she have put her step mother in prison to protect her reign? Would she have sent Thor away? Would she have continued Odin's... campaigns throughout the Nines?
She could have.
But she had quickly realised she did not wish to do so.
As she had stood behind that door, listening to her father speak of how he would have her killed to 'protect' the Nine Realms, Hela had realised many things.
The most important thing she had realised was that all she had ever done in life, all she had ever done since her birth was try to make Odin proud.
Every kill, every battle, every action she had done had been in his name, to please him, to make him care for her – to make him love her.
And it had led to him plotting her murder as if it was the most easy thing to do in the Realms.
Killing him would have been oh so pleasant.
But it would have led Hela to a life she had only embarked upon to win his approval.
Having to continue it after his death because she had killed him had not seemed much like a win.
So Hela had come to another decision.
And when the All-Father had ordered her to go to Niflheim with the Valkyries, she had not attacked him or spoken his plans out to the whole of Asgard to hear.
She had simply nodded as if she was none the wiser, and prepared to leave Asgard – perhaps, forever.
Now she stood at the crossroads of life, pondering what to do next, uncertain on what came after, less certain in the actions that had led her to this point.
Choices and mistakes.
Odin's actions had been a mistake.
Hela walking away from Asgard had been a choice.
And she did not dwell in regrets.
So, she walked forward.
She might no longer be Princess of Asgard, but the Nine Realms were not Odin's.
They belonged to all, and Hela was one of the all.
She was still Princess of the Nines.
And, she supposed, forever might pass faster if she traversed upon them.