Legal Disclaimer: I own my stuff, but not the original source material. That belongs to whoever. Also, the opinions and interpretations I use here may not reflect the same in said whoever that owns the source material. Look, I'm just a poor college librarian. Suing me isn't going to get you anything but tears.

Warning: This work may be offensive to some readers. Feel free to back out if that's you.

Author's Note: Okay, so this is our new adventure, folks. And there will be a lot of salt. Probably the one that needs to be addressed before y'all get confused in the story is that nowhere in the MCU canon does Tessa Thompson's character get an actual name, unless you count the Grandmaster's "Scrapper 42" (which I don't as it falls into the same category as "Valkyrie" as a name). When you remove a character's name and replace it with a job, you are removing their personhood. "Marine" is not a name, no matter how much you may claim that it is respectful or a memorial. Before anyone thinks to use this defense: interviews and wiki entries are not canon. Since the MCU has elected to not give the character a name in canon, and the apocrypha's suggestion has issues given the actress, the Last Valkyrie will be known in this work as Eir and the Valkyrie that we see in her flashback (and who matches the comics version of the character) will bear the name Brunnhilde.

Last Note from Author: This fic is not favorable to abusive characters, no matter how beloved they are. Therefore, if you are a fan of characters like Thor or any of the members of "Team Cap", this fic will not be to your liking. Save both our time and just leave. Complaining about this will not achieve anything.

Submitting Info:
Stacked with: Hogwarts (Term 10); MC4A (SN; SuBingo; FPC; BAON; ToS; StL; Star; Fence; ER)
Individual Challenges: Forehead Kisses; Misunderstood; Gryffindor MC; Death's Inevitable Master; Metahuman MC (x3); World Hopping; Mastermind MC; Medic MC; Hitter MC; Bender MC; Brush; Seeds; Tissue Warning; The Third Phase (Y); Marvelous Cinema; New Fandom Smell (Y) [MCU]; Old Shoes [HP]; Team Logic (Y); Themes & Things A [Death]; Themes & Things B [Protection]; Trope It Up C [Time Travel]; The 3rd Rule; Ethnic & Present; Tiny Terror; Rian-Russo Inversion (Y); Short Jog; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux;
House: Hufflepuff
Assignment No.: Term 10 – Assignment 12
Other Hogwarts Challenges: Insane Prompts [883] (Fantasy); 365 [43] (Brother); Scavenger Hunt [64] (Family); Gym [Quotation] (FDR);
Space Address (Prompt): 3D (Explosion)
Representation(s): Eir (Valkyrie); Master of Death Harry Potter; Thor
Bonus Challenges: Eternal Boredom; Larger than Life; Unicorn; Second Verse (Ladylike; Not a Lamp; White Dress; Sneeze Weasel; Middle Name; Nightingale; Unwanted Advice); Chorus (Pear-Shaped; Machismo; Peddling Pots; Tomorrow's Shade)
Tertiary Bonus Challenges: SN (Rail; Negate)
Word Count: 2270 words

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Not This Time
Part 1: Something's Wrong
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The air shivered in a way that she knew accompanied the use of magic. It had been nearly two thousand years since the last time she had felt that outside of Loki's stunts on Sakaar and the destruction of Asgard. The small colony of surviving Asgardians mixed with the former slaves of Sakaar that made up New Asgard had a distinct lack of magi. Thor, with his few but potent gifts, was about the sum of it outside of the arts that she had abandoned when she had lost herself in her grief.

Now there was magic in her presence, in this place where magic was supposed to be extinct, and around those who had just been entrusted into her care. Her blades were out before she had fully turned to face the area that had become saturated with the energy. Thankfully, the move had also silenced Thor's speech about worthiness, which meant that she was facing the new person with no distractions.

Other than the dark tan skin and lack of height, the man closely resembled Loki, even wearing the dark greens and blues that Loki had favored along with black. The dark clothing was reminiscent of the peasant clothing of the Asgard she left behind after Hela had massacred the other Valkyrie. His green eyes calmly met hers as the man just stood there, his arms full of a small child who could not have seen more than five turns of the seasons. The girl sleeping in his arms did nothing to make him seem less dangerous. If anything, it made her instincts scream that he was even more dangerous with the girl than he would have been without her.

"Lady Eir," he greeted, barely glancing at Thor behind her.

That was another thing that she had not heard in millennia. Even amongst the surviving Asgardians, no one had asked for her name. Everyone used the honorable title that had once been hers before she had abandoned it along with everything else. Loki had known it, even if he had never used it outside of the single command he had given when the Dark Aster had borne down on their ship. Thor had never asked, calling her only by her former association like it was the only name she had any claim over. To Hulk (and consequentially, Bruce), she would always be Angry Girl, the only friend he had on Sakaar.

"Who?" Thor asked with honest confusion. The way he wore his heart on his sleeve was admittedly something that she appreciated about the would-be king. It was a diplomatic nightmare, especially combined with his impulsive habit, but after centuries of working for Odin and Hela, the lack of masks in a member of the royal family was refreshing. His question still left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Who are you?" she demanded, not lowering her weapons. The man continued to stare at her. The green of his eyes was glacial hard and just as sharp as they assessed her defensive posture. For all that the boy looked barely out of youth, those eyes were ancient, burdened beyond what any youth should be. The Trickster's eyes had held that same ache, especially after he had invaded her memory to view her greatest shame. That begged a slightly different question, one that came out of her mouth before she could stop it. "What are you?"

"I should think that a Valkyrie would recognize both," the man answered. "I would think, also, that you specifically would recognize me."

"Death," she breathed. Instantly, she dropped to her knees with her arms held away from her sides. Her eyes never left the entity's own, even as Thor sucked in a breath behind her.

"Hela was destroyed with Asgard," Thor declared. Death blinked before shifting his gaze to the god of thunder as if just then noticing him. She saw something flicker in that emerald gaze as the entity examined the man. An indulgent smile bloomed on his youthful face.

"Adorable," Death replied, "you truly believe that one of my chosen agents can be destroyed."

"Hela was destroyed," Thor repeated, though he did not sound as certain as he had. Death continued looking like he was watching a puppy stumbling over a ball. Thor puffed up as he pulled the mantle of his royal confidence about himself once more. She suddenly wished to be able to zap him with the touch of a button again, bristling at the disrespect being shown to something beyond merely a god, something beyond even a being like the Grandmaster. "Who are you?"

"I am Death," the entity said simply as if it were no more important than stating the weather and directly contrasting every declaration of status that the Asgardian royalty had made in her presence. It even lacked the desperate undertone that Loki had always used, as if he were trying to convince his audience of the words. A small part of her missed the wily sorcerer, even if she could not allow herself the luxury of drowning in grief a second time. Death's gaze shifted back to her with another flicker of emotion hidden in the depths. His tone was kind when he continued. "But you may call me Harry."

"That's a child's name," she observed without judgement. He tilted his head to the side as if contemplating that. Absently, he ran a hand down the child's back despite how their conversation had not disturbed her sleep.

"I suppose it is," he agreed. "It is short for Haridard."

She wanted to weep as the All-Speak whispered the translation of the Midgardian name like it did the many tongues spoken on the world and in the realm. What did it say for the incarnation of Death to be named He who takes away suffering? Had not that very thought haunted her these past millennia as she tried to drink away the loss of her fellow Valkyrie? Death could be cruel, yes, but by the Norns, it could also be kind.

"Why have you come, Lord Haridard?" she asked, still on her knees before him. He blinked at her before gesturing for her to rise. Ever graceful, she did.

Behind her, Thor choked a bit in what must have been shock. Sheathing her blades, she closed her eyes as she reminded herself that Thor had been but a babe when the Valkyrie were slain. If he knew anything about them at all, it would have been tales of them as sworn servants of the throne of Asgard. The fact that they were the chosen warriors of Death before anything else would not have been something Odin would have approved to be passed down. Thor had not studied the myths and legends as Loki had. A child could be forgiven their ignorance, and despite how much older he was than Midgardians, by the terms of Asgard, Thor was barely into adulthood.

It was still difficult to give him even more leeway after having already given him so much and having just listened to him abandoning his responsibilities on a more permanent basis.

"I have need of your particular services, Lady Eir," Haridard said. He laid his hand on the girl's dark hair, drawing her attention to the child. Watching closer now, she saw that the child was more of a solid spirit than a flesh and blood child. Her eyes darted back to his, a seed of horror growing in her gut. Surely what she was beginning to fear could not be true. She felt sick when he silently nodded.

"Who?" she whispered, not knowing if she was referring to the erased child he held or the person who had tampered with the universe in such a way that erased her.

She had heard of what had been done to defeat the Mad Titan. She had felt the shifting sands of time as it had all happened and had barely been able to summon enough power to protect the denizens of New Asgard from the inevitable ripples such meddling always left. When the universe had settled with only those turned to dust returned and none of those born in the wake of the Snapping being removed, she had believed it was over.

Yet Death stood before her with a child in need of restoration, a child whose very existence must be vital if it warranted his personal interference.

"Her name is Morgan Halcyon Stark," Haridard declared. His eyes hardened as he shifted his gaze towards Thor. His voice held all the rage of a marauding frost giant when he continued. "Her father is Anthony Edward Stark, Iron Man."

"But the Man of Iron never sired any children," Thor protested, weak in the face of such cold anger. "I would know. We are friends."

"Friends," Haridard spat with a sneer. "You would have murdered him in a fit of rage, Son of Odin, and for a crime he had not even committed. You would have strangled him while he stared at the corpse of his murdered child over your shoulder. All this without even a hint of regret. If that is your show of friendship, it leaves much to be desired."

"You don't under—"

"You'd be surprised, Son of Odin," Haridard interrupted, "by what I understand. You would never understand what it is like to be cursed with knowledge, to be burdened with power that you never asked for and would give away in a heartbeat if it meant having a family." The green of his eyes glowed as he glared at the god of thunder. "You grieve for an idea, Son of Odin, the brother who always fixed your messes no matter how many blows you landed upon him. If you were even half the man that he believed you to be, I could forgive it. But you aren't. You have chosen to merely uphold your father's legacy instead. I have walked many universes, Son of Odin, and this version of you flatters no one."

"Have care how you speak, mortal!"

"Or what?" Haridard challenged, not even attempting to correct Thor's assertion about his mortality. "Will you attack me? Will you rip off my limbs and beat me with them? Strike me with lightning like a heretic of old?"

"I LOVED MY BROTHER!" Thor roared, stepping forward only to smack into her outstretched arm. "I loved him!"

"Then prove it, Son of Odin," Haridard commanded. "Be the king he had faith that you could become."

"What do you need me to do, my lord?" she asked, redirecting the entity's attention to herself. Protecting the Asgardians had been Loki's last request of her, no matter how sharply it had been phrased. For better or worse, Thor definitely was Asgardian, even if the relationship between the pair had been strained when the Trickster had met his death. Haridard breathed deeply before answering her.

"I require someone to anchor the child." He pressed a kiss to Morgan's forehead. "If she fades completely, not even I will be able to fix the broken threads to restore her. I need my hands free as I travel the stream of this universe to find the point where the mess was made."

"I have not acted as a healer in many years," she admitted, feeling the weight of those years upon her shoulders. "I abandoned everything about that life."

"My dear Lady Eir," he countered, "you did abandon everything, but you are still the goddess who wielded both healing and vengeance with equal skill. Even trapped in the Realm of the Lost, you wielded those aspects. Even surrounded by those without even the common decency to ask for your name, you continued to act with compassion in both regards. Lady Eir, you are still a healer."

"I need to stay in New Asgard," she said, even as she reached for the child that he held. Without speaking, he passed over his precious bundle. It had been almost two millennia since she had held a child so young, as the few Asgardian children were physically older as well as having decades on the tiny Midgardian now resting in her arms. For a moment, she choked on the trust being shown to her. Then she forced herself to speak. "Is there anything that I should know, my Lord Death?"

"If she wakes," Haridard answered carefully, "she may be hungry. The time sickness might upset her stomach, but if you can get her to eat and keep anything down…"

"Do you truly think you'll be gone that long?" she asked. A trickle of worry slid down her spine. Anchoring someone who had been erased from time was not an easy task, only truly possible for those tied directly to the universal forces. As a Valkyrie, she was tied to Death, but the child had faded while anchored by Death itself. Failure seemed inevitable, and the idea of failing the entity stung worse than the memory of losing her Brunhilde.

"I do not know how long it will take to fix things," Haridard admitted. "I still have to figure out what went awry to remove the one thing that my Merchant asked to be protected. As long as you stay within eyesight of her, she should be safe. I trust you, Eir of the Valkyrie. You have always chosen well."

She ran a hand down the girl's back like Haridard had. Without waking, Morgan curled into her. Haridard pressed a final kiss to the girl's forehead before stepping away. He gave her a wink before disappearing with a final quip.

"Good luck getting the idiot to understand what's going on."