Chapter Text
How long have I been walking, he asked himself. The heavy snowfall made it difficult see anything. He couldn't tell if he was going around in circles or still continuing forward in a straight line. Hugging his arms close to his body, he knew he needed to find shelter and soon. The cold wind was whipping against his skin and freezing him to the core. Steve continued to walk through the heavy snow until his legs collapsed under him. This is it then? I die here? Alone and cold. Hanging his head, he let out a heavy sigh. This wasn't how he expected to die, or how he wanted to die. His teeth chattered as heard a voice cut through the howling winds.
“My precious darling... you must be so cold,” a woman's voice said.
Steve looked up toward the voice and saw a beautiful woman standing above him. She was as pale as the snow itself, and he couldn't help but stare at her. The woman, who wore a tall crown made from ice, smiled down upon him. Her snow white skin was adorned with a long pale blue gown made from a fabric so light he half expected the wind to tear it to shreds. As her long white hair whipped across her face, her rosy lips turned downward into a frown.
“Do you find my appearance disconcerting,” she asked.
Slowly he shook his head. How could he think such a magnificent creature to be anything less than beautiful. “Am I dead,” he asked as he looked around them.
“No love, you are not,” she replied, her voice like a whisper upon the wind.
As his eyes drew back to her, he noticed that she held a long white fur cloak in her arms. Was that always there, he asked himself. None of this made any sense to him. Where did she come from? Who was she?
The woman offered her hand out to him. “Come my love, take my hand and we shall return home. You shouldn't be in the snow.”
“Yes... I am really cold,” he replied as he reached out to take her hand. With a slight tug he was pulled to his feet. The woman smiled as she wrapped the heavy fur around him. Steve let out a heavy sigh. He was already feeling much warmer.
“Come- home is only a short distance from here,” she said while turning and motioning to a large sleigh with a monstrous three legged horse tethered to the front.
Clenching the fur around him, he followed closely behind her. He allowed her to climb in first, before climbing in behind her. As he settled in she took up the reigns and the beast lurched forward before taking off at running speed.
Steve watched the woman as she stared silently ahead. She looked so familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had seen her face before. “Do you know how I got here,” he asked.
“I do not,” she replied simply.
“Do you know why I'm here then? I can't seem to remember anything before the cold.”
“You sacrificed yourself and fell deep into the darkness. How you arrived here, I do not know. I know only that your fate has not yet been decided.”
“Where are we?”
“This realm is called Niflheim, and I am its Queen,” she replied as she pulled back on the reigns slightly.
Steve didn't understand what she meant or how he had gotten to this place. All he knew is that his mind was foggy. He couldn't remember anything past the snow and cold. When the sleigh began to slow down, he looked out in front of them and saw a shimmering palace in the distance. The palace sat surrounded by stone walls and heavy gates. As they approached the gates, they opened and she guided them toward the entrance of the palace.
“Do you live here by yourself,” he asked as she stepped down from the sleigh.
“I have many subjects in this realm, but here... now... I am alone.”
“But where is everyone then?”
“Hidden. They will not reveal themselves to you.”
None of it made any sense to him. She said she was a Queen, but he saw no population for her to rule over. He didn't know how long he had been walking before she came upon him, but he had seen no structures or even any living creatures.
“Worry not on these things my love. You are my guest, and you will be comfortable here.”
Steve walked at her side as she climbed up the stairs and to the large palace doors. He rushed forward slightly and pushed open the door for her.
“Such a noble soul,” she whispered as she walked through the door.
Steve looked around as he followed her through the palace. He couldn't help but be impressed by what he saw. The palace was filled with beautiful chandeliers and intricate carved stonework. Icicles hung from the archways and a light cover of snow hung over all the objects decorating the palace. He couldn't believe that she lived there.
“What's your name?”
“Hela Lokidottir.”
What an odd name. As they walked through the palace, his mind only became foggier and foggier. He wasn't sure if it was the cold or something else. They walked for some time longer before she opened a door and showed him into a large dining hall. The table in the middle was covered with platters of food. It was a feast fit for a king, or rather a queen.
“Eat, and I will answer all questions you have.”
Steve nodded and sat down on one side of the table, piling food onto a plate. He hadn't felt hungry before seeing the food, but now he felt absolutely famished. Hela sat down across from him, not touching any of the food.
“Aren't not hungry,” he asked.
“I do not require such things.”
Lowering his head, he said a short prayer of thanks for the food before him as well as Hela finding him in the snow. When he finally lifted his head to eat, he noticed that Hela was staring across at him with an odd look on her face.
“What's wrong?”
“You pray? Even here?”
“I do. Do you not pray to give thanks?”
Hela shook her head. “No. I have very little to be thankful of.”
“But what about all of this,” he said while motioning to the food and the room around them. “Surly this all is enough to give thanks for.”
She sighed and shook her head once again. “You do not understand my love. This is a prison as much as it is anything else. I was but a child when I was forced into the cold of this place. I am not here of my own accord.”
“Why would they do that to you?”
“They saw me as a monster, an ugly thing that needed to be locked away. You see, there is a prophecy. A prophecy that those I love, as well as myself, will one day start a war.”
As she spoke, Steve noticed how her eyes turned downward and how sad her voice sounded. “I don't think you could do something like that,” he blurted out. It was true that he didn't know her at all, but something inside him felt like he could trust her. He didn't think she was a monster, or an ugly thing. If anything she was a beautiful thing. She had rescued him from the snow and the cold. She had taken him into her home, and was feeding him.
“You have a beautiful heart,” she said with the smallest of smiles.
Picking up a fork, he began to eat the food he had piled high onto his plate. He felt as if he hadn't had anything to eat for years. It wasn't until he finished his third plate that his belly began to feel full and the aches in his body fade away.
“Do you feel better,” she asked.
“I do, thank you. Everything was delicious.”
“It gladdens me to hear such things.”
Steve sat there, staring across at the woman before him. Despite his belief in God he didn't put too much stock in prophecies. He believed that everyone made their own path. They chose if they wanted to do good or evil. He couldn't understand how someone would abandon a child to a place such as this based upon something that may or may not happen in the future. She didn't seem like the type that would be interested in starting a war.
“Tell me of your world.” Hela picked up a container of wine and filled his chalice.
“Oh where do I start,” he began as he picked up the chalice and took a sip from it. “It's beautiful. I'm from a place called Brooklyn.” First he talked about America and the place he grew up. But eventually he just began to talk about himself. He told her of his childhood, and the death of his parents. He noted her unusual interest in their deaths. Steve, however, continued and told her about how he was studying to become an illustrator and a comic book writer. He had to explain the concept to her, but she nodded in understanding at the end of his explanations. As he continued to talk about his life and the war he began to feel tired.
Hela noticed this and smiled across at him. “What an exciting life you have lived. You are tired. You should rest soon.”
He nodded. “It feels like its been so long since I've slept.”
Hela rose from the table. “I will show you to your room.” She waited for him to stand up before walking back out of the dining hall and through the palace again. “I have a favor to ask of you. You may decline if you so choose.”
“Of course, what can I do?”
“Will you draw something for me? I'd like to have something to remember you by when you leave.” Her voice was filled with sorrow, as if she was sad that he would have to leave.
“I would be honored Hela.”
She smiled before continuing guiding him through the palace. When they finally reached his room, she allowed him to walk through the door first. Steve walked into the room and found that it was unlike the other parts of the palace he had seen. The room, unlike the others, was not half filled with snow or covered in thin layers of ice and icicles. At one corner of the room a large fire had been made in the fireplace. Pulling the fur from his shoulders, he sat it upon the bed next to a set of woven night clothes and walked over to the fireplace. The room was warm, much warmer than it had been anywhere else. He turned to notice Hela standing near the doorway. “Come in please?”
Hela hesitated for a moment before stepping over the threshold and into the room. “Does the room not please you?”
“Oh no, it does. It's better than I could have imagined.” Rubbing his hands together, he felt the warmth cover his body and shoot through his veins. “I just wanted to thank you for everything today.”
“You are welcome my darling. Sleep well. If you should need anything, my room is just two doors away.” Hela who had only taken one step into the room, stepped back out and shut the door behind her.
Steve looked around the room again. The room was lined with tall bookshelves and intricately woven tapestries. He walked toward one of the tapestries and studied it for a few minutes before crossing to a desk with a stack of blank parchment and a quill pen. He sat down and began to draw for her. At first his drawing were of things he had seen around the palace, but eventually he switched and began to draw her. He drew the way her hair danced around her face when she stood in the snow filled wind. He drew her face and the sad, introspective look she had when she thought he wasn't looking. Soon half of the stack of paper had been used up and he decided he needed to sleep.
Taking off his shoes, and shirt, he changed into the clothes that were provided for him. Climbing into bed, he thought over the events of the bed before falling fast asleep.