Drowning Inside Our Hearts
Unexpected free time! Have a new story. :)
Title: Drowning Inside Our Hearts
Series: #2 in Only Death
(#1 - A Hushed Sound)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine! Characters you recognize belong to Marvel, and I've incoporated some comic back story into the movieverse.
Notes: References to violence are made but not discussed at any length. Series and story titles from Pablo Neruda's "Nothing But Death." This series follows Ready For The Siege and may refer to events in it, but is probably okay to read without having read the other series first. Any questions about events in this series, just ask. :)
Summary: Helena has to learn the full extent of her power.
Ophelia looked at Hel, jaw set. Having had time alone with Yelena hadn't softened her toward the Queen of the Dead. "To get my revenge against Aleksander, I want Yelena with me," she said flatly.
"And once you have accomplished this task, what would you do?" Hel asked, her voice like the whisper of leaves over stone.
"If Hydra is in good shape, I will happily die."
Hel laughed softly, shaking her head. "Oh, no. You may be Madame Hydra. Or Madame Viper, if you prefer that name. With your lovely companion and bodyguard, you can rebuild the entire organization in the image you wish."
Looking at Yelena, Ophelia pressed her lips together. "I used to want that. I'm not so sure I care about it anymore."
"We'll see once Aleksander is dead, shall we?" Hel asked brightly.
Yelena slipped her hand into Ophelia's. "It won't be so bad either way, Ophelia. No matter what you choose, we'll be together."
With a soft sigh, Ophelia nodded. "All right."
"I owe you a debt, after all," Hel murmured. "I will fulfill it."
"What debt?"
"For placing you in that situation to get what I want."
Ophelia looked at her darkly. "Oh, yeah, you owe me for that."
"So I give you Yelena," Hel replied, "and the chance to rule Hydra."
"That puts us in opposition to Natalia," Yelena murmured. When Ophelia looked at her sharply, she sighed. "From the Red Room. I won't harm her."
"Former lover," Ophelia guessed. Yelena nodded, expressionless, making her sigh. "Then fine, we won't kill her if she crosses us."
"Or her close friends," Yelena said quickly. At Ophelia's incredulous look, she sighed. "I had killed one, and he's like family to her. I don't want to hurt her like that again."
Ophelia glowered at her. "Yelena..."
"The Avengers became her family."
"Fine, then," Ophelia snapped, irritated. "We won't kill them, only incapacitate them."
Yelena brightened. "Thank you!"
"I don't like that she's still this important to you."
"She's my past," Yelena told her softly. "You're my future. But she saved my life, and I owe her this much after killing her family."
Both looked to Hel, who seemed amused by them. "It's done."
An eye blink later and both women were in Ophelia's bedroom. She looked at Yelena and let out a slow breath. "He's in this complex somewhere. And I want him dead."
Yelena was dressed in black skintight clothing, knives sheathed at her waist and holsters strapped to her thighs, each containing Walther PPK's. Her blonde hair was long, pulled back into a tight ponytail behind her. Drawing out one of the PPK's, she flashed Ophelia a delighted grin. "Why don't I introduce myself, then? We'll let everyone know who's in charge now. And if they object, they'll answer to me."
Ophelia's smile was tinged with cruelty. She was a far different woman now than she had been in her first lifetime, and Yelena seemed to be the same way. Ophelia knew that their appearances were shifted compared to before, but inside the two of them were still connected. The changes in them since their deaths possibly served the purposes of the Queen of the Dead, but it also served her own. For now, she would follow along with Hel's idea.
"Excellent," Ophelia told Yelena, smile widening a bit.
Aleksander didn't stand a chance.
***
In the village outside of the castle, bustling souls flitted about in an approximation of what they had done in life. Countless souls slid in and out of each other, occupying the same space and some performing the same actions in concert or opposition. Standing in the center of the square was a figure the size of a toddler but with the shape of a grown woman. She had long black hair that fell to her waist, and her eyes were completely black. Her skin had a deathly pallor, and she wore a dress of crimson spider silk, as if the fabric had been soaked in fresh arterial blood. She was easily the brightest thing in the village of dead souls, most of whom looked indistinct and like fog.
Helena's first lesson was to recognize and sense the dead. The village was small but the several hundred souls that normally populated a village this size was overfull with duplicates. There were nearly ten thousand souls as a result, a rather formidable number for a novice to detect. It was difficult, and Hel was nowhere to be seen. She didn't give any assistance or advice, and Helena had been placed in the square.
She opened her senses wide, and was immediately flooded with the thoughts, emotions and sensations of every soul in the village as if they were hers. Paralyzed by it, Helena almost lost sight of her own sense of self.
There was a scream, high pitched and frightened, like a child's in the midst of a night terror. That didn't fit in with the other souls' experiences, and jarred Helena out of her stupor.
It had been her own scream of terror.
Chastened, Helena tried not to resent Hel. This was a cruel way to teach. Perhaps Hel had no aptitude for teaching, or had been taught to master her power over the realm in the same fashion. Helena thought it harsh and impossible, and tried to swallow her rage.
Hel didn't care if she was angry at her treatment. She wouldn't care at how long it took her to learn this. Or how much she suffered in order to learn it. Hel would only care about the results, and seemed content to ignore her otherwise.
Helena knew she had been created out of necessity, pain, heartbreak, greed, death, destruction and misery. Hel imprinted parts of herself with magic, but the totality of her being was such an amalgam of fractured pieces. It was clear that she didn't quite fit together right, that she couldn't really use the power she had been created with. She was dangerous, potentially vicious, and had no clear place in any realm or with any being she had been taken from. She had been unwanted by all but Hel, and was entirely unnatural.
Gasping for breath, Helena balled her hands into fists. The rage was still there, a burn in her chest, feeling like poison in her blackened veins. That made it impossible to think, so the task would be damn near impossible for her to complete in this state. Her first task would be to master her rage.
Helena wasn't sure how to swallow down her rage or move past it. Why create her only to ignore her existence? There had to be a reason for all of this. Helena might not know everything yet - she didn't have a sense of the realm at all - but there had to be a reason for it. She wouldn't be forthcoming about it, but Hel was certainly the type of person to have plans within plans, and contingencies if those plans failed.
Somehow, Helena would have to do the same. The warm smile Hel had given her on her creation was obviously a lie. How to be so convincing and still hold all her ulterior motives... So much to learn without any guidance, and Helena had to push away the frustration. Difficult to do; she wanted to throttle Hel or tear her to pieces. She could likely do neither at the moment, having no training to control the power in her body.
Gritting her teeth, Helena grabbed a soul that moved past her. the figure was the shadow of a burly man, likely a carpenter by his state of dress, and he was startled to see her. He hadn't even been aware of her until she touched him, and she wasn't sure if Hel operated the same way.
As soon as she let go of him, he drifted off, back into the routine he was following. She couldn't tell if he remembered her at all, if she had affected any change in his soul. It was easy for her to follow him, even after she lost of him, but touching every soul in the village would be unwieldy and next to impossible anyway.
After a time, Helena lost track of the carpenter in the crowd. The sense of him faded completely as he moved farther away.
Curious, Helena grabbed another soul walking past her. Instinctually, she pulled the cooper into her sense of self, absorbing him completely.
Suddenly, Helena knew how to make barrels, how to season the wood and choose the best kind for a particular task. She could use the tools, calculate prices for the barrels made. She could also recall the cooper's childhood, his family, his hopes, his dreams. She knew everything he did, and had all of his memories as her own.
The cooper was gone, though. He was now incorporated into Helena, a part of her, something indistinguishable and impossible to separate from her own soul.
She should be horrified, probably. By accident, she had annihilated a soul. It was completely fused and integrated into her. But it was instinct, something she could do at will.
Maybe that was why Hel didn't want to be near her. If Hel could also do this, then she could annihilate Helena. That wasn't the point of this exercise.
But what if it was eventually?
It was a niggling thread of doubt in the back of Helena's mind, but once it took shape, it was impossible to remove. What if Hel simply wanted Helena to learn how to do things, and ultimately Hel would absorb her and her skills? What if Helena was never truly meant to become the new Hel?
There were tremors rolling through her, and Helena thought her insides would press up through her throat and come tumbling out. She didn't need to eat, some quirk of her magic origins and the fact that she was born of dead tissues, perhaps. She didn't need to breathe, either. Food and air and water were affectations for her, and she merely existed. To a certain extent, she felt stronger after absorbing that cooper, but it wasn't what he remembered feeling after eating food. She simply was, and there wasn't any sense of hunger or thirst that came along with it. Her body didn't feel heat or cold either, and her clothing shifted and changed along with her mood or the style of magic she thought of performing.
Remembering that, Helena looked down. Her scarlet gown was now jet black, shot with silver threads in the shape of runes. The runes didn't sit still in the weave, either, but shifted as if trying to spell out a story. She gradually realized that some of the cooper's thoughts were in the runes, and some of the shapes were her own. Some of them were spells of protection, wards of death and the means to trap magic inside of her body.
So much of her own nature was foreign to her. Hel would never tell her, not if she was going to absorb Helena or if she was afraid of her. Showing weakness before Hel was a stupid idea, so Helena couldn't go to her to ask for help. Who did that leave?
There had to be dead magicians in Helheim. Helena might not be aware of who they were, but there had to be enough souls willing to talk with her. Absorbing them willy-nilly wasn't an option that she wanted to consider.
Stepping sideways, Helena shifted out of the village. She didn't want to consume any more souls, not like this. She landed in front of the entry to the castle, paired gargoyles perched upon columns above her. They were anchored to the core of Helheim, she knew that much, and would ignore the dead, who tended to ignore the living. They would keep track of the living, if any arrived to visit Hel.
She had no idea how they would treat her.
Hello, Helena, the gargoyles said as she approached. You seem perturbed. How may we be of assistance?
Helena paused. "I don't know. I don't know anything!"
Such is the nature of the learning process. Though this is the first time a youngling has come to us for aid.
"Is that not allowed?"
It's simply never been done before. You are thus unique.
In more ways than one, Helena thought but didn't say. "Why wouldn't they come to talk to you?"
Maybe they didn't need to.
Frowning, Helena touched the column closest to her. "You have a lot of wisdom and knowledge of the realm."
If a stone gargoyle could look alarmed, this one did. No. I see what your plan is, little one, and it should not be done.
"You think you know me?" Helena asked, irritated.
We are aware of what happened with the cooper. If you believe absorbing us will easily get you the knowledge you seek, you would consider such action.
She had indeed been thinking of that. "I've had no instruction at all!" she snarled at them.
None ever have. The nuances of each Hel means the magic you possess differs in each iteration. Hel could not teach you how to access your magic, no matter how you ask her.
Helena actually growled. "Why even make me?!"
Helheim would have shattered if she did not. Hel was not as prepared for the sudden influx of power as she thought she was. If she hadn't created you to siphon off the power, it would have destroyed the entire realm.
That wasn't what she had expected to hear at all.
Frowning, Helena glared at the gargoyles. "Why doesn't she say anything? Even if she can't teach me how to use my magic, it would have been important to know this!"
No Hel has ever taught another. But the prior Hel was interested in teaching about the realm, its properties, how to save it. She was kind, and had ruled peacefully for millennia. She was unable to discuss the intricacies of the realm to the current Hel.
There was a sense of calm and such love at the mention of the prior Hel that Helena felt some of her rage ebb. "Tell me about her, then?"
Gladly.
The former Hel had been a tall, lithe woman with bright red hair, blue eyes and an easy smile. She chose to interact with the souls like a friend and talk with the chorus of seers about random things. The fog of death around the realm hadn't been so thick, and the skies had been brighter, more of a pearlescent white than a dull gray. There had been a cheerfulness about her that she had gotten from her mother, a charming woman who wore tight black trousers, black boots, a black tank top and usually kept her wavy black hair loose. She was playful most of the time, and was able to be serious when necessary.
The seers told her when it would be time to step down, when her command over the realm was starting to wane. She tried to resist it, and her power diminished. That was why she needed help to save the current Hel. She should have been able to complete the crafting alone.
"And then what happened to her?"
She dissipated. Such would be the fate of any Hel over time, and without the guidance of a Hel, Helheim would suffer. Souls would not be under control, the realm would grow unchecked, and likely would overrun the other realms.
"And we can't have the dead overrun the living," Helena replied. Her tone was without inflection, but Helena really couldn't care less if the dead returned to other realm.
The gargoyles sighed in unison. Little one, there are far better ways to gain the knowledge that you seek.
"Yeah? Like what?"
Look inside you, Helena. Death doesn't have to be the only outcome for this.
Helena thought of the way she had reflexively absorbed the cooper in his entirety, and how horrifying that had been for her. If she could just take on the memories that the gargoyles had, copying them into her own mind, then that would be better. Though she would be Queen Hel someday, she didn't want to annihilate other souls.
Gingerly, she touched the gargoyle's columns with the intent to copy the memories contained within the creatures. "Then let me try."
She could feel the trepidation, and pushed past it to the core of memories beneath it. Absorbing would be easy, but not giving in to consume... She had to fight her instinct, had to push and push, let the memories slide past until she saw the flash of red hair and a smile, could feel the warmth that the gargoyles remembered. This Hel laughed, danced, smiled and reached out to her dead with open arms, welcoming all lost souls into her realm. This Hel loved fiercely, and had enjoyed her time in charge of Helheim. She had to make a bargain with Loki to father her child, but had made sure it was not a loathsome experience for him. You value knowledge, she had told him, grinning sweetly. So let me give you knowledge equal in value to what I desire from you.
There were the secret ways along Yggdrasil, the soft places between realms, the paths and walkways amongst the roots and branches. Helena could taste the knowledge on her tongue and yanked her hands away from the columns for fear of absorbing more than she should have. But the gargoyles remained in place, and she could still feel their steady presence.
We live, little one, they told her, relief evident. And our memory of the exchange remains intact, so you have indeed done as you wished to.
It was close, wasn't it? Helena could still taste her fear as well as the knowledge of Yggdrasil, the echo of its power inside her mind. She leaned against the column, breathing heavily. Could she push past this fear and continue to absorb the knowledge of the realm? Could she suck it up like a sponge, have the knowledge fill her and make her content?
"I'm going to try again," she said aloud before she made a conscious decision.
Careful, little one, the gargoyles warned. Don't push so far that you can't stop yourself. This doesn't have to be done in a day.
Helena threw her senses wide, palms pressed against the columns. The gargoyles' memories flowed into her, through her, filling her. She opened her mouth to scream, much as she had in the village, terror starting to rise up and choke her.
Remain in control! the gargoyles snapped. You rule the magic, not the other way around! You rule the magic!
Whether it was desperation or sound advice, Helena didn't know. But she tried to gather her sense of self back together, terror fading a bit. That let her critically look around her, in the stream of magic and memories, and she was sitting across from the redheaded Hel in an empty void of pearlescent gray.
"Hello," the redheaded Hel said, sitting crosslegged. Her lap was primly covered with a skirt, her hands folded calmly in front of her.
"You can see me?"
"A residual echo. My seers tell me I haven't much time left. So I buried my consciousness within the heart of the realm. My heart is in the Runestaff."
Swallowing slowly, Helena tried to imagine what that must have felt like. She failed.
"You have seen my daughter, the current Hel," the prior Hel said, voice gentle. "She was so lost without me. There's such capacity for cruelty in her."
"Her mortal father," Helena replied.
"Quite possibly. But even that could have been tempered if I hadn't dissipated so soon."
"If you dissipated, why am I here?"
"There was a chance, my seers said, that I could help defeat the encroaching darkness coming to my realm. That I would still be of service to my people." Her eyes were kind, her smile soft and sweet. It made Helena wondered what would have been if she had been able to teach Hel anything at all.
"You want to help me?"
"Until you are ready. My daughter is not ready for you or for the power you possess." Her smile remained sweet as she looked over Helena. "I should have stayed to help her, no matter what the prophecies said. Then you would not feel so alone."
"I'm making do."
Hel smiled. "Of course you are."
Helena frowned. "What did your seers say the darkness was?"
"You," Hel replied simply, shrugging. "Left without any tutelage, what do you think would happen?" Helena flinched. "What would happen to Helheim?" Hel reached out and cradled Helena's hands in hers. "You're tapping into the Runestaff now. It's my heart and magic in here, my spirit you're touching. That's how we may speak."
"I don't want to destroy anything."
"I know. And that's what is different from one of your predecessors."
"Hel wants to destroy things?"
This particular Hel laughed and shook her head. "No, no. You don't know your origins, do you? Other than magic and that Hel shaped you?" Helena shook her head. "You are crafted from the living heart of Selene Gallio and the dead fetal tissue of Ophelia Sarkissian. You were born out of violence, rage, pain, magic and longing. It is in your nature to absorb magic, to feed upon it and abstract knowledge. This is your heritage from Selene. Had she been guided, she could have fed without the destruction of magic, but there was no one to guide her. I don't want to make this same mistake with you."
"You didn't know Selene."
"No. Her mother died at birth and the village where she was born died to feed her hunger. No one understood what she was, and revered her as a death goddess. Over time, she relied on her instincts and moved into the Void to look for more magic."
"I don't want to kill."
"That is from Ophelia, in her first life, at least. She did a number of questionable things, and truly believed in her cause. But she was not a believer in bringing death to all."
"Was not," Helena echoed.
"Death and torture will change a soul irrevocably," Hel remarked, unperturbed.
"You're still kind."
"Not happy, as I once was," Hel replied gently. "This is not your fault, Helena, and you must be prepared. I sacrificed guiding my daughter for the good of the realm. Please don't let it be in vain." Her grip on Helena's hands was painfully tight. "I will help save us all."
I tapped into the Runestaff. This can't be a good thing. This has to be what Hel is afraid of. The Hel I know, the one that created me, the one I'm supposed to call Mother, Helena thought dizzily, feeling as though she was drowning in Hel's eyes.
Hel's eyes lit up. "I can hear your thoughts, Helena. Yes, you tapped into the Runestaff. But you aren't absorbing its power. You aren't devouring me. You're simply connected, child. This allows us to share ideas."
"You're going to teach me magic, then?"
The kind smile had a slightly more sinister cast to it than that. "Sort of."
And before Helena could ask what Hel meant, the remnant of her soul yanked her close and caught her head around the temples. It felt as though her fingers were pushing inside her skull, into the soft squishy brains inside, pulling and pushing and shoving things aside. It felt like static storms inside her mind, a gray haze descending over her vision. Had this been what Selene's victims felt like as their souls were torn apart for their magic? Was that what it had been like when Selene devoured Runestaves?
Helena's mind went blank and empty. Nothingness. A vast Void. Darkness. An all consuming blackness that she was drowning in.
She woke at the gate to the castle, lying on her back between the gargoyles, still perched on their stone columns. Aching and sore as if she had been beaten within an inch of her life, Helena pushed herself up to sitting, then to her hands and knees. Her entire body shook, feeling weaker than she had since her frustrated birth.
Hello, Helena, the gargoyles said above her. They sounded almost smug. You have met the prior Hel, we see.
"You knew this would happen?" she rasped.
If you had enough control not to destroy all.
"What happened?"
Stand and see.
It was difficult, and she bit back curses to all the Hels of all incarnations, all the lifetimes of infinite magic and careless cruelties. Pain crashed into her in waves, indescribable and nearly sending her back to her hands and knees. Not wanting to touch the columns, Helena forced herself up to her feet, pushing on her thighs to give her additional strength.
The sky was pearlescent, faintly pink as if a sun was going to rise. The fog surrounding the castle wasn't so thick, and she could see the outlines of spirits walking to and fro.
"What happened?" Helena croaked again.
You were not properly shaped for what you can do. Hel didn't create you in a way that would take advantage of the skills you possess.
"Which is what? Killing people?"
The manipulation of life and magic, before and after death. It's up to you what to do with that kind of talent, the gargoyles told her, unperturbed.
"Can't every Hel do that?"
Oh, goodness, no, the gargoyles scoffed.
If she could manipulate life and magic, she could possibly bring people back from the dead the way that Hel did. She could still absorb life and memories and skills. She could reach out across vast distances and touch souls anywhere in the galaxy. She could reach down into the Runestaff and speak to the former Hel again, get more formal training. She didn't have to do this alone, fumbling around on her own with no idea what to do next.
Helena didn't have to fear the future.
Giddy, Helena flicked her wrist and nearly laughed at the sight of a portal in front of her. It would take her anywhere she wanted to go, any when she wanted to go. She could do anything, be anything, want anything.
Laughing, Helena walked through the portal to visit one of Hel's favorites.
***
Natasha had been wary, rightfully so, and it had been all Helena could do to keep from laughing in her face. The poor woman expected the worst from her, likely because of Hel's interference. It was obvious that she wasn't afraid of Hel exactly, more of what the goddess would do to her or her loved ones. Helena had no desire to manipulate her or use humans as pawns. She understood all too well what that felt like, and wouldn't revisit it on anyone else.
Her next stop was to Europe, visiting Ophelia and Yelena. She knew that Yelena had pinned Aleksander in place and let Ophelia deal the killing blow. She knew that Ophelia would still have nightmares, would still skitter and jump at strange sounds or shadows of men coming at her from behind. Yelena was sharpening her knives and cleaning out her Walther PPK's contentedly, Ophelia watching her closely, learning how it was done.
Helena faded in gradually, until she was sitting on an armchair across the room from the two women. Ophelia startled badly, and Yelena continued with what she was doing, only the barest of twitches in her fingers to betray the fact that she had recognized they weren't alone. "Hello," she said quietly, making sure there was no magical resonance in her voice or overflow of her power that would draw their souls in. "I am Helena of Helheim."
The two women looked at her warily now. "Helheim," Ophelia said.
"You've killed Aleksander."
Yelena nodded at Helena's statement, and quickly reassembled the Walther. "Yes."
"You now head Hydra," Helena said, looking at Ophelia. "Would you be Lady Viper or Madam Hydra? Or some other name?"
"I haven't decided yet."
Helena nodded absently at them, because it truly wasn't important to her. "I wanted to meet you as soon as I discovered you existed. Hel used you both. Ophelia most cruelly, Yelena less so." Helena stood up. "I will not do this to either of you. I wanted to tell you that." She paused. "I have plans for Helheim. And not being consumed by Hel."
Ophelia frowned at her. "Meaning?"
"Make your empire. Have your battles." Helena smiled. "Send more souls to Helheim. I need an army, just as Hel does. But since she is conveniently ignoring me, she doesn't realize what's actually going on as I learn to harness my magic."
Yelena stood abruptly, a knife in her hand. "Whatever you do to her, that magic is going to come back at everything she's ever done. We've learned that about magic. Nothing comes for free. There's always a price to pay for magic, always."
"Yes, there is," Helena said, nodding. Her smile took on a more sinister cast. "I don't intend to make any of Hel's victims pay for it. I intend for her to."
Though they were confused, Helena wanted to laugh. She had a feeling that while she didn't intend to alter the shape of their lives or force them to do what she wanted, these two would willingly help her. Natasha was settled and content with her life. She had a support network and self assurance. These two were too brittle, too edgy, still far too broken.
"I never will force you to do or say anything you don't wish to," Helena said sweetly, smiling at them. "I am only too aware of what cruelties Hel is capable of, and I would never inflict the same kind of pain on you."
Ophelia flinched, and Yelena looked at her in concern. "I'm not sure I know what you mean," Yelena said slowly, though her grip on her knife loosened a bit.
"You're free to live your lives as you see fit," Helena told them. She was sure there was an edge to her smile, even though she was trying to be honest. Hel's influence on her, perhaps, and not enough of the prior Hel. "I don't want anything from either of you. But Hel marked you as hers, so I wanted to meet you and see you for myself, same as with the others."
It was interesting to see the nonverbal communication between Yelena and Ophelia. They were close, had been lovers for ten years before Yelena's mind had broken apart again. Helena was almost jealous of that closeness. Almost. It also gave them a vulnerability that Helena simply didn't have.
"Is there a way to contact you if we must?" Ophelia asked guardedly.
Helena laughed. These two were hers now. "Call for me. I'll hear you."
The seers had called her darkness, and the prior Hel was working to ensure that it wasn't the case. Even so, she wasn't going to go meekly into her future.
The current Hel would find her full of surprises.
The End.
Title: Drowning Inside Our Hearts
Series: #2 in Only Death
(#1 - A Hushed Sound)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine! Characters you recognize belong to Marvel, and I've incoporated some comic back story into the movieverse.
Notes: References to violence are made but not discussed at any length. Series and story titles from Pablo Neruda's "Nothing But Death." This series follows Ready For The Siege and may refer to events in it, but is probably okay to read without having read the other series first. Any questions about events in this series, just ask. :)
Summary: Helena has to learn the full extent of her power.
Ophelia looked at Hel, jaw set. Having had time alone with Yelena hadn't softened her toward the Queen of the Dead. "To get my revenge against Aleksander, I want Yelena with me," she said flatly.
"And once you have accomplished this task, what would you do?" Hel asked, her voice like the whisper of leaves over stone.
"If Hydra is in good shape, I will happily die."
Hel laughed softly, shaking her head. "Oh, no. You may be Madame Hydra. Or Madame Viper, if you prefer that name. With your lovely companion and bodyguard, you can rebuild the entire organization in the image you wish."
Looking at Yelena, Ophelia pressed her lips together. "I used to want that. I'm not so sure I care about it anymore."
"We'll see once Aleksander is dead, shall we?" Hel asked brightly.
Yelena slipped her hand into Ophelia's. "It won't be so bad either way, Ophelia. No matter what you choose, we'll be together."
With a soft sigh, Ophelia nodded. "All right."
"I owe you a debt, after all," Hel murmured. "I will fulfill it."
"What debt?"
"For placing you in that situation to get what I want."
Ophelia looked at her darkly. "Oh, yeah, you owe me for that."
"So I give you Yelena," Hel replied, "and the chance to rule Hydra."
"That puts us in opposition to Natalia," Yelena murmured. When Ophelia looked at her sharply, she sighed. "From the Red Room. I won't harm her."
"Former lover," Ophelia guessed. Yelena nodded, expressionless, making her sigh. "Then fine, we won't kill her if she crosses us."
"Or her close friends," Yelena said quickly. At Ophelia's incredulous look, she sighed. "I had killed one, and he's like family to her. I don't want to hurt her like that again."
Ophelia glowered at her. "Yelena..."
"The Avengers became her family."
"Fine, then," Ophelia snapped, irritated. "We won't kill them, only incapacitate them."
Yelena brightened. "Thank you!"
"I don't like that she's still this important to you."
"She's my past," Yelena told her softly. "You're my future. But she saved my life, and I owe her this much after killing her family."
Both looked to Hel, who seemed amused by them. "It's done."
An eye blink later and both women were in Ophelia's bedroom. She looked at Yelena and let out a slow breath. "He's in this complex somewhere. And I want him dead."
Yelena was dressed in black skintight clothing, knives sheathed at her waist and holsters strapped to her thighs, each containing Walther PPK's. Her blonde hair was long, pulled back into a tight ponytail behind her. Drawing out one of the PPK's, she flashed Ophelia a delighted grin. "Why don't I introduce myself, then? We'll let everyone know who's in charge now. And if they object, they'll answer to me."
Ophelia's smile was tinged with cruelty. She was a far different woman now than she had been in her first lifetime, and Yelena seemed to be the same way. Ophelia knew that their appearances were shifted compared to before, but inside the two of them were still connected. The changes in them since their deaths possibly served the purposes of the Queen of the Dead, but it also served her own. For now, she would follow along with Hel's idea.
"Excellent," Ophelia told Yelena, smile widening a bit.
Aleksander didn't stand a chance.
***
In the village outside of the castle, bustling souls flitted about in an approximation of what they had done in life. Countless souls slid in and out of each other, occupying the same space and some performing the same actions in concert or opposition. Standing in the center of the square was a figure the size of a toddler but with the shape of a grown woman. She had long black hair that fell to her waist, and her eyes were completely black. Her skin had a deathly pallor, and she wore a dress of crimson spider silk, as if the fabric had been soaked in fresh arterial blood. She was easily the brightest thing in the village of dead souls, most of whom looked indistinct and like fog.
Helena's first lesson was to recognize and sense the dead. The village was small but the several hundred souls that normally populated a village this size was overfull with duplicates. There were nearly ten thousand souls as a result, a rather formidable number for a novice to detect. It was difficult, and Hel was nowhere to be seen. She didn't give any assistance or advice, and Helena had been placed in the square.
She opened her senses wide, and was immediately flooded with the thoughts, emotions and sensations of every soul in the village as if they were hers. Paralyzed by it, Helena almost lost sight of her own sense of self.
There was a scream, high pitched and frightened, like a child's in the midst of a night terror. That didn't fit in with the other souls' experiences, and jarred Helena out of her stupor.
It had been her own scream of terror.
Chastened, Helena tried not to resent Hel. This was a cruel way to teach. Perhaps Hel had no aptitude for teaching, or had been taught to master her power over the realm in the same fashion. Helena thought it harsh and impossible, and tried to swallow her rage.
Hel didn't care if she was angry at her treatment. She wouldn't care at how long it took her to learn this. Or how much she suffered in order to learn it. Hel would only care about the results, and seemed content to ignore her otherwise.
Helena knew she had been created out of necessity, pain, heartbreak, greed, death, destruction and misery. Hel imprinted parts of herself with magic, but the totality of her being was such an amalgam of fractured pieces. It was clear that she didn't quite fit together right, that she couldn't really use the power she had been created with. She was dangerous, potentially vicious, and had no clear place in any realm or with any being she had been taken from. She had been unwanted by all but Hel, and was entirely unnatural.
Gasping for breath, Helena balled her hands into fists. The rage was still there, a burn in her chest, feeling like poison in her blackened veins. That made it impossible to think, so the task would be damn near impossible for her to complete in this state. Her first task would be to master her rage.
Helena wasn't sure how to swallow down her rage or move past it. Why create her only to ignore her existence? There had to be a reason for all of this. Helena might not know everything yet - she didn't have a sense of the realm at all - but there had to be a reason for it. She wouldn't be forthcoming about it, but Hel was certainly the type of person to have plans within plans, and contingencies if those plans failed.
Somehow, Helena would have to do the same. The warm smile Hel had given her on her creation was obviously a lie. How to be so convincing and still hold all her ulterior motives... So much to learn without any guidance, and Helena had to push away the frustration. Difficult to do; she wanted to throttle Hel or tear her to pieces. She could likely do neither at the moment, having no training to control the power in her body.
Gritting her teeth, Helena grabbed a soul that moved past her. the figure was the shadow of a burly man, likely a carpenter by his state of dress, and he was startled to see her. He hadn't even been aware of her until she touched him, and she wasn't sure if Hel operated the same way.
As soon as she let go of him, he drifted off, back into the routine he was following. She couldn't tell if he remembered her at all, if she had affected any change in his soul. It was easy for her to follow him, even after she lost of him, but touching every soul in the village would be unwieldy and next to impossible anyway.
After a time, Helena lost track of the carpenter in the crowd. The sense of him faded completely as he moved farther away.
Curious, Helena grabbed another soul walking past her. Instinctually, she pulled the cooper into her sense of self, absorbing him completely.
Suddenly, Helena knew how to make barrels, how to season the wood and choose the best kind for a particular task. She could use the tools, calculate prices for the barrels made. She could also recall the cooper's childhood, his family, his hopes, his dreams. She knew everything he did, and had all of his memories as her own.
The cooper was gone, though. He was now incorporated into Helena, a part of her, something indistinguishable and impossible to separate from her own soul.
She should be horrified, probably. By accident, she had annihilated a soul. It was completely fused and integrated into her. But it was instinct, something she could do at will.
Maybe that was why Hel didn't want to be near her. If Hel could also do this, then she could annihilate Helena. That wasn't the point of this exercise.
But what if it was eventually?
It was a niggling thread of doubt in the back of Helena's mind, but once it took shape, it was impossible to remove. What if Hel simply wanted Helena to learn how to do things, and ultimately Hel would absorb her and her skills? What if Helena was never truly meant to become the new Hel?
There were tremors rolling through her, and Helena thought her insides would press up through her throat and come tumbling out. She didn't need to eat, some quirk of her magic origins and the fact that she was born of dead tissues, perhaps. She didn't need to breathe, either. Food and air and water were affectations for her, and she merely existed. To a certain extent, she felt stronger after absorbing that cooper, but it wasn't what he remembered feeling after eating food. She simply was, and there wasn't any sense of hunger or thirst that came along with it. Her body didn't feel heat or cold either, and her clothing shifted and changed along with her mood or the style of magic she thought of performing.
Remembering that, Helena looked down. Her scarlet gown was now jet black, shot with silver threads in the shape of runes. The runes didn't sit still in the weave, either, but shifted as if trying to spell out a story. She gradually realized that some of the cooper's thoughts were in the runes, and some of the shapes were her own. Some of them were spells of protection, wards of death and the means to trap magic inside of her body.
So much of her own nature was foreign to her. Hel would never tell her, not if she was going to absorb Helena or if she was afraid of her. Showing weakness before Hel was a stupid idea, so Helena couldn't go to her to ask for help. Who did that leave?
There had to be dead magicians in Helheim. Helena might not be aware of who they were, but there had to be enough souls willing to talk with her. Absorbing them willy-nilly wasn't an option that she wanted to consider.
Stepping sideways, Helena shifted out of the village. She didn't want to consume any more souls, not like this. She landed in front of the entry to the castle, paired gargoyles perched upon columns above her. They were anchored to the core of Helheim, she knew that much, and would ignore the dead, who tended to ignore the living. They would keep track of the living, if any arrived to visit Hel.
She had no idea how they would treat her.
Hello, Helena, the gargoyles said as she approached. You seem perturbed. How may we be of assistance?
Helena paused. "I don't know. I don't know anything!"
Such is the nature of the learning process. Though this is the first time a youngling has come to us for aid.
"Is that not allowed?"
It's simply never been done before. You are thus unique.
In more ways than one, Helena thought but didn't say. "Why wouldn't they come to talk to you?"
Maybe they didn't need to.
Frowning, Helena touched the column closest to her. "You have a lot of wisdom and knowledge of the realm."
If a stone gargoyle could look alarmed, this one did. No. I see what your plan is, little one, and it should not be done.
"You think you know me?" Helena asked, irritated.
We are aware of what happened with the cooper. If you believe absorbing us will easily get you the knowledge you seek, you would consider such action.
She had indeed been thinking of that. "I've had no instruction at all!" she snarled at them.
None ever have. The nuances of each Hel means the magic you possess differs in each iteration. Hel could not teach you how to access your magic, no matter how you ask her.
Helena actually growled. "Why even make me?!"
Helheim would have shattered if she did not. Hel was not as prepared for the sudden influx of power as she thought she was. If she hadn't created you to siphon off the power, it would have destroyed the entire realm.
That wasn't what she had expected to hear at all.
Frowning, Helena glared at the gargoyles. "Why doesn't she say anything? Even if she can't teach me how to use my magic, it would have been important to know this!"
No Hel has ever taught another. But the prior Hel was interested in teaching about the realm, its properties, how to save it. She was kind, and had ruled peacefully for millennia. She was unable to discuss the intricacies of the realm to the current Hel.
There was a sense of calm and such love at the mention of the prior Hel that Helena felt some of her rage ebb. "Tell me about her, then?"
Gladly.
The former Hel had been a tall, lithe woman with bright red hair, blue eyes and an easy smile. She chose to interact with the souls like a friend and talk with the chorus of seers about random things. The fog of death around the realm hadn't been so thick, and the skies had been brighter, more of a pearlescent white than a dull gray. There had been a cheerfulness about her that she had gotten from her mother, a charming woman who wore tight black trousers, black boots, a black tank top and usually kept her wavy black hair loose. She was playful most of the time, and was able to be serious when necessary.
The seers told her when it would be time to step down, when her command over the realm was starting to wane. She tried to resist it, and her power diminished. That was why she needed help to save the current Hel. She should have been able to complete the crafting alone.
"And then what happened to her?"
She dissipated. Such would be the fate of any Hel over time, and without the guidance of a Hel, Helheim would suffer. Souls would not be under control, the realm would grow unchecked, and likely would overrun the other realms.
"And we can't have the dead overrun the living," Helena replied. Her tone was without inflection, but Helena really couldn't care less if the dead returned to other realm.
The gargoyles sighed in unison. Little one, there are far better ways to gain the knowledge that you seek.
"Yeah? Like what?"
Look inside you, Helena. Death doesn't have to be the only outcome for this.
Helena thought of the way she had reflexively absorbed the cooper in his entirety, and how horrifying that had been for her. If she could just take on the memories that the gargoyles had, copying them into her own mind, then that would be better. Though she would be Queen Hel someday, she didn't want to annihilate other souls.
Gingerly, she touched the gargoyle's columns with the intent to copy the memories contained within the creatures. "Then let me try."
She could feel the trepidation, and pushed past it to the core of memories beneath it. Absorbing would be easy, but not giving in to consume... She had to fight her instinct, had to push and push, let the memories slide past until she saw the flash of red hair and a smile, could feel the warmth that the gargoyles remembered. This Hel laughed, danced, smiled and reached out to her dead with open arms, welcoming all lost souls into her realm. This Hel loved fiercely, and had enjoyed her time in charge of Helheim. She had to make a bargain with Loki to father her child, but had made sure it was not a loathsome experience for him. You value knowledge, she had told him, grinning sweetly. So let me give you knowledge equal in value to what I desire from you.
There were the secret ways along Yggdrasil, the soft places between realms, the paths and walkways amongst the roots and branches. Helena could taste the knowledge on her tongue and yanked her hands away from the columns for fear of absorbing more than she should have. But the gargoyles remained in place, and she could still feel their steady presence.
We live, little one, they told her, relief evident. And our memory of the exchange remains intact, so you have indeed done as you wished to.
It was close, wasn't it? Helena could still taste her fear as well as the knowledge of Yggdrasil, the echo of its power inside her mind. She leaned against the column, breathing heavily. Could she push past this fear and continue to absorb the knowledge of the realm? Could she suck it up like a sponge, have the knowledge fill her and make her content?
"I'm going to try again," she said aloud before she made a conscious decision.
Careful, little one, the gargoyles warned. Don't push so far that you can't stop yourself. This doesn't have to be done in a day.
Helena threw her senses wide, palms pressed against the columns. The gargoyles' memories flowed into her, through her, filling her. She opened her mouth to scream, much as she had in the village, terror starting to rise up and choke her.
Remain in control! the gargoyles snapped. You rule the magic, not the other way around! You rule the magic!
Whether it was desperation or sound advice, Helena didn't know. But she tried to gather her sense of self back together, terror fading a bit. That let her critically look around her, in the stream of magic and memories, and she was sitting across from the redheaded Hel in an empty void of pearlescent gray.
"Hello," the redheaded Hel said, sitting crosslegged. Her lap was primly covered with a skirt, her hands folded calmly in front of her.
"You can see me?"
"A residual echo. My seers tell me I haven't much time left. So I buried my consciousness within the heart of the realm. My heart is in the Runestaff."
Swallowing slowly, Helena tried to imagine what that must have felt like. She failed.
"You have seen my daughter, the current Hel," the prior Hel said, voice gentle. "She was so lost without me. There's such capacity for cruelty in her."
"Her mortal father," Helena replied.
"Quite possibly. But even that could have been tempered if I hadn't dissipated so soon."
"If you dissipated, why am I here?"
"There was a chance, my seers said, that I could help defeat the encroaching darkness coming to my realm. That I would still be of service to my people." Her eyes were kind, her smile soft and sweet. It made Helena wondered what would have been if she had been able to teach Hel anything at all.
"You want to help me?"
"Until you are ready. My daughter is not ready for you or for the power you possess." Her smile remained sweet as she looked over Helena. "I should have stayed to help her, no matter what the prophecies said. Then you would not feel so alone."
"I'm making do."
Hel smiled. "Of course you are."
Helena frowned. "What did your seers say the darkness was?"
"You," Hel replied simply, shrugging. "Left without any tutelage, what do you think would happen?" Helena flinched. "What would happen to Helheim?" Hel reached out and cradled Helena's hands in hers. "You're tapping into the Runestaff now. It's my heart and magic in here, my spirit you're touching. That's how we may speak."
"I don't want to destroy anything."
"I know. And that's what is different from one of your predecessors."
"Hel wants to destroy things?"
This particular Hel laughed and shook her head. "No, no. You don't know your origins, do you? Other than magic and that Hel shaped you?" Helena shook her head. "You are crafted from the living heart of Selene Gallio and the dead fetal tissue of Ophelia Sarkissian. You were born out of violence, rage, pain, magic and longing. It is in your nature to absorb magic, to feed upon it and abstract knowledge. This is your heritage from Selene. Had she been guided, she could have fed without the destruction of magic, but there was no one to guide her. I don't want to make this same mistake with you."
"You didn't know Selene."
"No. Her mother died at birth and the village where she was born died to feed her hunger. No one understood what she was, and revered her as a death goddess. Over time, she relied on her instincts and moved into the Void to look for more magic."
"I don't want to kill."
"That is from Ophelia, in her first life, at least. She did a number of questionable things, and truly believed in her cause. But she was not a believer in bringing death to all."
"Was not," Helena echoed.
"Death and torture will change a soul irrevocably," Hel remarked, unperturbed.
"You're still kind."
"Not happy, as I once was," Hel replied gently. "This is not your fault, Helena, and you must be prepared. I sacrificed guiding my daughter for the good of the realm. Please don't let it be in vain." Her grip on Helena's hands was painfully tight. "I will help save us all."
I tapped into the Runestaff. This can't be a good thing. This has to be what Hel is afraid of. The Hel I know, the one that created me, the one I'm supposed to call Mother, Helena thought dizzily, feeling as though she was drowning in Hel's eyes.
Hel's eyes lit up. "I can hear your thoughts, Helena. Yes, you tapped into the Runestaff. But you aren't absorbing its power. You aren't devouring me. You're simply connected, child. This allows us to share ideas."
"You're going to teach me magic, then?"
The kind smile had a slightly more sinister cast to it than that. "Sort of."
And before Helena could ask what Hel meant, the remnant of her soul yanked her close and caught her head around the temples. It felt as though her fingers were pushing inside her skull, into the soft squishy brains inside, pulling and pushing and shoving things aside. It felt like static storms inside her mind, a gray haze descending over her vision. Had this been what Selene's victims felt like as their souls were torn apart for their magic? Was that what it had been like when Selene devoured Runestaves?
Helena's mind went blank and empty. Nothingness. A vast Void. Darkness. An all consuming blackness that she was drowning in.
She woke at the gate to the castle, lying on her back between the gargoyles, still perched on their stone columns. Aching and sore as if she had been beaten within an inch of her life, Helena pushed herself up to sitting, then to her hands and knees. Her entire body shook, feeling weaker than she had since her frustrated birth.
Hello, Helena, the gargoyles said above her. They sounded almost smug. You have met the prior Hel, we see.
"You knew this would happen?" she rasped.
If you had enough control not to destroy all.
"What happened?"
Stand and see.
It was difficult, and she bit back curses to all the Hels of all incarnations, all the lifetimes of infinite magic and careless cruelties. Pain crashed into her in waves, indescribable and nearly sending her back to her hands and knees. Not wanting to touch the columns, Helena forced herself up to her feet, pushing on her thighs to give her additional strength.
The sky was pearlescent, faintly pink as if a sun was going to rise. The fog surrounding the castle wasn't so thick, and she could see the outlines of spirits walking to and fro.
"What happened?" Helena croaked again.
You were not properly shaped for what you can do. Hel didn't create you in a way that would take advantage of the skills you possess.
"Which is what? Killing people?"
The manipulation of life and magic, before and after death. It's up to you what to do with that kind of talent, the gargoyles told her, unperturbed.
"Can't every Hel do that?"
Oh, goodness, no, the gargoyles scoffed.
If she could manipulate life and magic, she could possibly bring people back from the dead the way that Hel did. She could still absorb life and memories and skills. She could reach out across vast distances and touch souls anywhere in the galaxy. She could reach down into the Runestaff and speak to the former Hel again, get more formal training. She didn't have to do this alone, fumbling around on her own with no idea what to do next.
Helena didn't have to fear the future.
Giddy, Helena flicked her wrist and nearly laughed at the sight of a portal in front of her. It would take her anywhere she wanted to go, any when she wanted to go. She could do anything, be anything, want anything.
Laughing, Helena walked through the portal to visit one of Hel's favorites.
***
Natasha had been wary, rightfully so, and it had been all Helena could do to keep from laughing in her face. The poor woman expected the worst from her, likely because of Hel's interference. It was obvious that she wasn't afraid of Hel exactly, more of what the goddess would do to her or her loved ones. Helena had no desire to manipulate her or use humans as pawns. She understood all too well what that felt like, and wouldn't revisit it on anyone else.
Her next stop was to Europe, visiting Ophelia and Yelena. She knew that Yelena had pinned Aleksander in place and let Ophelia deal the killing blow. She knew that Ophelia would still have nightmares, would still skitter and jump at strange sounds or shadows of men coming at her from behind. Yelena was sharpening her knives and cleaning out her Walther PPK's contentedly, Ophelia watching her closely, learning how it was done.
Helena faded in gradually, until she was sitting on an armchair across the room from the two women. Ophelia startled badly, and Yelena continued with what she was doing, only the barest of twitches in her fingers to betray the fact that she had recognized they weren't alone. "Hello," she said quietly, making sure there was no magical resonance in her voice or overflow of her power that would draw their souls in. "I am Helena of Helheim."
The two women looked at her warily now. "Helheim," Ophelia said.
"You've killed Aleksander."
Yelena nodded at Helena's statement, and quickly reassembled the Walther. "Yes."
"You now head Hydra," Helena said, looking at Ophelia. "Would you be Lady Viper or Madam Hydra? Or some other name?"
"I haven't decided yet."
Helena nodded absently at them, because it truly wasn't important to her. "I wanted to meet you as soon as I discovered you existed. Hel used you both. Ophelia most cruelly, Yelena less so." Helena stood up. "I will not do this to either of you. I wanted to tell you that." She paused. "I have plans for Helheim. And not being consumed by Hel."
Ophelia frowned at her. "Meaning?"
"Make your empire. Have your battles." Helena smiled. "Send more souls to Helheim. I need an army, just as Hel does. But since she is conveniently ignoring me, she doesn't realize what's actually going on as I learn to harness my magic."
Yelena stood abruptly, a knife in her hand. "Whatever you do to her, that magic is going to come back at everything she's ever done. We've learned that about magic. Nothing comes for free. There's always a price to pay for magic, always."
"Yes, there is," Helena said, nodding. Her smile took on a more sinister cast. "I don't intend to make any of Hel's victims pay for it. I intend for her to."
Though they were confused, Helena wanted to laugh. She had a feeling that while she didn't intend to alter the shape of their lives or force them to do what she wanted, these two would willingly help her. Natasha was settled and content with her life. She had a support network and self assurance. These two were too brittle, too edgy, still far too broken.
"I never will force you to do or say anything you don't wish to," Helena said sweetly, smiling at them. "I am only too aware of what cruelties Hel is capable of, and I would never inflict the same kind of pain on you."
Ophelia flinched, and Yelena looked at her in concern. "I'm not sure I know what you mean," Yelena said slowly, though her grip on her knife loosened a bit.
"You're free to live your lives as you see fit," Helena told them. She was sure there was an edge to her smile, even though she was trying to be honest. Hel's influence on her, perhaps, and not enough of the prior Hel. "I don't want anything from either of you. But Hel marked you as hers, so I wanted to meet you and see you for myself, same as with the others."
It was interesting to see the nonverbal communication between Yelena and Ophelia. They were close, had been lovers for ten years before Yelena's mind had broken apart again. Helena was almost jealous of that closeness. Almost. It also gave them a vulnerability that Helena simply didn't have.
"Is there a way to contact you if we must?" Ophelia asked guardedly.
Helena laughed. These two were hers now. "Call for me. I'll hear you."
The seers had called her darkness, and the prior Hel was working to ensure that it wasn't the case. Even so, she wasn't going to go meekly into her future.
The current Hel would find her full of surprises.
The End.