Hello everyone! Hope you all are staying healthy!

Note: massive angst, violence I hope will be no worse than canon, references to sex (off-screen). I will try to keep it T. This is in a similar world to Eternal/Finite.

X

Finally.

The bonds were not physical; those, she could have escaped too easily. It felt like being one of Odin's prized horses, staked out to graze a perfect circle. The radius varied with a regularity she recognized as matching her father's Sleeps, yet always allowed her the lake for water and scraps of food, the cave for shelter. Never an exit, though. That would have to wait.

Not much longer.

Hela wasn't called the goddess of death for nothing. The first time she realized something was profoundly different about her, she'd been old enough for school, had she been anyone else's daughter. No formal education for her. She'd learned how to kill, how to defend someone, how to use a plethora of weapons.

Her favorite knife was meant to be kept sharp enough that most of her victims would never even feel the blade. Evidently, it had dulled; this morning's execution had gone less smoothly than usual. Screams sounded odd when the victim's throat was cut.

The man had been "convicted" of murder; she no longer remembered the victim or a motive, if they'd even found one. His name, too, was lost to time.

She could almost see him now, reflected in the smooth metal as she sharpened it on the whetstone. Eventually, it seemed ready, and she tested it on its usual spot: her left wrist.

As intended, she felt no pain, only the heat from her own blood oozing over her skin. What remained on the knife flowed over it smoothly, except in one place where the blade was still rough. Letting out a sigh that conveyed more irritation than she actually felt, Hela picked up the whetstone again before she gasped, staring at the knife. That face-

She glanced over her shoulder, but of course he wasn't there. His body was burned, not on the water like a warrior, but in the dust like all unauthorized killers. Scattered in the wind, the ashes would nourish the crops and begin to pay off the debt of two lives lost too soon.

Disturbed, she turned back to the knife. Yep, still there. Reflected in the blood of his killer staining the weapon that had claimed his life, was the face of her latest victim.

"Help me," he said, and Hela knew no one else would hear him.

"What do you need?"

Invisible, cold fingers grasped her own.

"I don't know the way to Valhalla."

"I don't belong there. Wouldn't even want it if I could get in. Just help me to Hel, so I can rest."

That was her first time realizing that Hel was just as valid an afterlife as Valhalla.

She'd led the man to his final rest without truly understanding how she was doing it. When he released her hand, it was with the sense that he'd ended up where he belonged.

He was the first of many.

Hela's powers had developed from there, extending from knowing how best to kill a given person (invaluable during a battle, or for granting a quick death to a criminal, a traitor, or a fatally injured soldier), to knowing exactly which of the patients in the healing rooms were too far gone. The healers were grateful for that- they could bring families in to say their goodbyes, and let their patients die in peace.

Such was life as the goddess of death.

X

Finally.

Even from here, she could sense Odin's death. It was the proper time, he was ready, and Frigga -caring as ever- was ready to welcome him to the feasthall.

All as it should be.

Before Hela could get through the portal, following the trail of her father's death, she could sense another, this one far too early and in a way no one should ever die. She had a horrible suspicion as to the victim's identity.

Finally, out in the sunshine. It had been a millennium since she'd seen proper sunlight. Not that the sight that greeted her sparked any joy.

The heap of black and dark green could easily have been mistaken for her own body, but she knew otherwise. Beside him, a familiar hammer lay in the grass, likewise still and covered in blood.

The only sign of life sat hunched over on the ground, hands tearing at blonde hair. Heavy, shaky breathing could be heard even twenty paces away, the only sound on the top of the seaside cliff. Hela stood beside him for several minutes. He gave no reaction, although she was certain he must have known who she was. Eventually, she broke the silence.

"Little brother, what have you done?"

When Thor gave no response, she stalked over to Mjolnir, lifting it with ease and bouncing it in her hand. At least one thing remained from her glorious past.

Thor stared at her, she tried to use the word thunderstruck and almost smiled. Whatever. She'd figure that out later. For now, she strapped Mjolnir into her belt and turned to her murderous sibling.

"Bring Loki. We're going home."

X

Me: Happy birthday to me-

My health: Hahano

Me: Happy birthday to me-

My health: Call an ambulance

Me, to hospital: Happy birthday dear (name, date of birth, SSN, emergency contact, address, medical history)

Hospital people: Here's some IV fluids and antibiotics, and every test we can think of. Hope that counts for a birthday gift.

Me: Happy birthday to me...