Holly Potter and the Midlife Crisis (Hp x Mcu) by Enigmaris

Chapter 35: Hela Odindottir Meets Her Two Idiot Brothers

Summary:

Hela has no idea why these mud covered fools are in this realm and she can't decide if she's curious enough not to kill them immediately to find out.

She hadn't heard another voice in millennia.

To hear two distinct voices had been something of a shock.

She couldn't tell if it was a good shock or not.

She was going to go with a hateful shock.

Hela glared down at the two beings who had entered her domain. Who knew how long they'd been prancing around her realm making fools of themselves. The unconscious bodies were covered with mud completely concealing any identifying features. She knew that mud gave even a god a terrible rash if left on the body for too long. She didn't see the need to magic the mud off of them either. Served them right for throwing it at each other like idiots.

She stepped forward to kill them. No one came into Hel. No one. This was her barren wasteland to rule. She was queen of it all and she did not allow for trespassers. She conjured a knife and knelt down next to the skinnier one prepared to deal the final fatal blow. Her knee brushed against the shoulder of the man and she froze.

What was that?

Hela reached out and placed a hand on the forehead of the skinny man, her fingers digging through the mud to reach bare skin. Yes. That. Hela had never felt anything like it. It was incredibly familiar in some aspects. The power of it she knew. Someone, somewhere had placed a mark of protection on this man. It wasn't formalized but Hela could still read the intent, the desire.  

She focused a little, calling forth magic she hadn't used since she'd been banished, and divined what she could read. Powerful yes. There was love there, affection too. The person who'd placed this loved fiercely, so much so that their magic had imprinted on this man, almost accidentally as if the love had just bubbled out and over them. The longer Hela used her magic sense to search for this mark the stronger it grew, tears pricked her eyes and she angrily tore her hand away.

She had forgotten. Forgotten what other voices sounded like. Forgotten the scent of clean air. Forgotten the taste of good food. Forgotten love. And love like that was so different, so bright compared to her dim memory. She remained kneeling, knife in hand, posed to swing down as she tried to force her mind to bring up the feeling of her mother's affections. But they were gone. Gone just like everything else.

What did it matter that she had forgotten her mother's voice, her face, her love? Frigga hadn't loved her. She would have come for her. She would have rescued her from this place. She would have kept Odin from banishing her to this hateful realm. Long enough had passed to make it clear that if Frigga had ever truly cared for her, she no longer did. It was better that she had forgotten. She shifted and prepared to kill the skinny man again.

Are you really going to kill someone that beloved?

She paused mid-swing again. She wanted to hate the man beneath her, that he had what she lacked. That was enough for her to want to wake him up and make sure he was aware of the pain she was going to cause him. But...the power in that mark. She wondered if it would be worth it, risking the wrath of whomever had laid it. It would be a glorious battle certainly. It had been far too long since she'd had a true challenge.

Something warned her off though. Some hint in the magic that lingered around the man beneath her. It had a distinct flavor she hadn't encountered in a long time, long enough that she had forgotten its name. But that flavor was distinct enough to make her pause. There was something there, she chased after the identity of it, trying to sift through the love and loyalty to find the underlying cause.