A king, Valkyrie thought. All that time spent away from Asgard, physically, and all the effort she’d put into forgetting it, the things she’d done to quiet her mind—just to go back to serving a king again.
It was too easy.
She could hardly leave now, and as the idea crossed her mind, she realized she didn’t want it. Well then. Maybe she should do something about her brain. She knew a trick that worked. At least to dull it.
There wasn’t much alcohol on the ship. Naturally. It hadn’t been designated as a space for orgies, though she was sure one had happened on it before regardless. What alcohol there might have been in the compartment she was staring into must was, she suspected, currently in the cups of some refugees who’d been thinking along the same lines as she had. She couldn’t blame them. She’d spent enough of her life doing the drinking as Asgard went on without her; might as well let the newly traumatized have some.
Perhaps this was a sign.
Then she spotted the small box in the corner. A little golden square with a bit of shimmer to it. The Grandmaster had always liked things to sparkle, she remembered. Valkyrie took the box. It fit snugly in the palm of her hand. Flipping it open revealed a powder in the same shade as its container. Some of it floated out with the force of the lid being lifted, and brushed over her fingers.
Valkyrie brought her hand closer to study it, careful to keep from inhaling. She wasn’t sure what kind of substance this might be. He’d had quite a few, and though she’d seen him affected by them, she wasn’t always around when he wanted to try one out.
Well. If she wasn’t sure what it was, she doubted anyone else would. It should be kept away from everyone, for their own safety and that of the ship—couldn’t have anyone going a bit crazy while floating in a can. Who knew what might happen? She would just have to hold onto it for now.
Probably shouldn’t try it herself though, with that logic. She sighed, and wiped the dust on her fingers off on her cape. It would have to share the same fate as the grime already on her armor, once it was washed.
Hours later, she found herself in her quarters, paralyzed with thought. As much as she could be paralyzed; there was pacing, all in circles, though she never left the room.
It should’ve made her as dizzy as several barrels of mead. She’d have welcomed the distraction of her body giving out.
Her body refused. Her brain was intent on heading down the same road over and over, with no end for her to arrive at.
Why was she here? Where was she going?
She hadn’t listened to Thor, not really. She’d enjoyed letting him know how much she wasn’t listening to him, talking about the duties she no longer had and the loyalty to Asgard she’d already given up.
She’d gone along with him because she was tired of trying not to think about the things he was trying to remind her of. Maybe doing something else would bring her peace. That was what people did, when they were angry, and got hit. They hit back. She’d run away instead, and maybe it had been cowardice. Cowardice keeping the wound fresh, because there was nothing she could do about it.
Vengeance, then, was the solution. She’d resolved to take care of the problem, and one way or another, this should do it. She’d land the hit or she wouldn’t.
Hela had barely seen her, and she was still alive. She’d watched something else kill her instead, and Asgard along with her. She’d let Thor destroy it all, take her kill and the place which had haunted her at the same time. It was gone. She’d outlived everything.
Except, there were people here, and a king. She couldn’t stop coming back to that. A king she was willing to call king, of a people who had no more of a place to go than she did. Valkyrie wasn’t sure how they were alive, but there they were. She’d stood beside Thor as they flooded into the ship, and she’d helped him keep their enemies at bay so that it could happen.
He’d watched Asgard, what he’d claimed to fight for, go down with her, named something else as Asgard in its place.
She wondered what new thing this was, what she’d ended up helping him create. A thing which remembered, but could not build on the power that had been.
A kingdom remade, a king to come back to. Perhaps there was something new in it, despite all the same names getting used. Something that would be for her too, provide room for someone who could never have accepted what had been.
Thor had offered her that room before, when he’d asked her to come back with him. Perhaps it was time to let him know she would take him up on that.
Maybe then she could get some damn sleep.