Chapter Text
“It’s been illegal to buy a bride for three goats for at least the last few hundred years,” Valkyrie droned, resting her head against her hand. She tapped her gavel—they were on Earth, so why not adopt some of their customs?—and dismissed the speaker. Thor had failed to mention that being King came with public town hall meetings.
She leaned back in her seat as the next man walked up to the microphone. He was a minor god, so minor that she couldn’t even remember his name. “I want to propose that every Asgardian receives two pints of free mead every day.”
Valkyrie leaned up to her mic and grabbed it. She moved her lips close and spoke definitively. “As long as you’re the one buying.”
A raucous cheer erupted from the small group of Asgardians in the chamber. The god gulped and kept his eyes down as he went back to his seat. She was in a good mood today; she let this one walk away with his dignity intact, more or less.
But Valkyrie had no energy left to suffer any more fools like him, not with the week she’d had. After the Congress of Worlds had passed a flurry of laws over the past few days, New Asgard had to now revamp much of its government and paperwork. The real problem was that they still hadn’t finished basic infrastructure for other parts of their government. Such as an education system that met the standards of Asgard, while integrating necessary subjects about living in their new world. Their kids were either homeschooled or, with New Asgard footing a very expensive bill, being sent to schools in neighboring nations, often to boarding schools.
All of which meant that Valkyrie was working almost eighteen-hour days trying to figure out how to keep New Asgard together as they integrated all these new changes.
The room fell silent as one of her employees asked if anyone else had a comment to put forth. Fortunately, they’d only had a few people show up to this meeting today, which meant she could finally go home for a couple of hours and rest.
Sleep pulled at Valkyrie’s eyes, so she did her best to stay awake. Only a few more minutes to go. She inspected the tattoo on her knuckle absentmindedly—two black triangles where only one of their points met, creating an opening for a third triangle between the two of them—and just like what always happened when exhaustion threatened to overcome her, her memories drifted back to happier times.
This time it was when she’d gone out with Carol for drinks. Back when they’d been thick as thieves and coming off from the high of busting a few rogue alien skulls. The planet they were on, Adontis, was the space faring equivalent of being out in the sticks. They brewed a special alcoholic beverage that apparently was strong enough to affect Valkyrie and Carol as if they’d never drank a day in their lives.
After having one too many, much of the night had become a blur. There were only vague memories, like throwing her arm over Carol’s shoulder and singing along with everyone in the bar, or both of them being overly giddy as they sat down for their tattoos. Valkyrie cringed internally at the hazy memories. She wasn’t proud that the only photo from that night—Carol’s arm slung around Valkyrie’s shoulder, two circular, alien looking chairs in the background (one white, one black)— was still tucked away in a little box. Even after their falling out, she’d never been able to throw it out for some reason.
But all that had been before the skrulls had come to Asgard, before Michael Barnett had been murdered. She wished she could have given into Carol’s demands, but as King, she did have to think about what was best for New Asgard, even if Carol hated her for it.
Her mid-meeting reverie was interrupted by the opening of the town hall’s door in a rather dramatic fashion. Valkyrie’s eyes went wide as a blonde woman walked in, her green cape spread out behind her as she walked down the aisle right towards the mic. As she lifted her hood, all that was left was a woman that looked eerily similar to Alta, the valkyrie who she’d loved and lost to Hela’s rampage. Valkyrie found herself wide awake. She could feel the blood pulsing in her veins, her heart pounding against her chest. Her mouth went dry.
“I have a proposal,” the woman said, grinning widely. The small hope that Alta was alive faded as quickly as it had bloomed. She was definitely not Alta, no matter the uncanny similarity. Alta had always been straightforward, and based off this woman’s cunning expression, she was anything but. “Asgard has an All-Father, but it is missing its All-Mother. Fortunately, I have come to rectify this regrettable situation.”
“Who are you—” Valkyrie began, but the woman cut her off.
“The last remaining heir to the throne of Asgard, of course,” the woman said with a flourish. She bowed towards Valkyrie. “Loki, daughter of Odin, sister to Thor Odinson and the late Hela. As Thor has passed on his duties, I am here to pick up the slack.”
Valkyrie started to laugh, even as the audience reaction was mixed. Some flinched in fear, others stared at Loki, bewildered and trying to figure out if she was telling the truth. The minor god who had most recently demanded free mead looked like he could use a drink right about now.
Odds were that this was in fact Loki, especially considering the appearance she had decided to take on. The problem was what her real intentions were; but that was just dealing with Loki on any other day, really. Valkyrie fought back the urge to rub at her temples as her head started to pound. “We’re good.”
“Oh, the kingdom is in very capable hands,” Loki responded, spreading her arms far apart. “But law is the law. And as you are the All-Father, Asgard law states there must be an All-Mother.”
“We’ll see about that,” Valkyrie bit back, knowing she’d need to look deep into Asgard’s laws. What Loki said was probably true. The real difficulty was finding the truth underneath all her bullshit. She wouldn’t put it past Loki to make a male clone of herself and install him as the new All-Father. Moving away from the mic, she turned to her assistant. “It looks like we’re going to need a lawyer.”
Loki beamed at her, staring her directly in the eyes. All things aside, the uncanny resemblance she bore to Alta had unsettled her. Made it hard to think and respond as she needed to as King to the threat that was Loki. The one who she’d heard had disappeared their old All-Father and replaced him. “If you can not object to my claim, then I shall ascend the throne. I’ll see you at our wedding when you are ready to accept this fact.”
Valkyrie slammed her fist down and through the desk she was sitting at. “Fuck off, Loki.”
“Already looking forward to the honeymoon?” Loki had the gall to wink at her before she tossed out her cape dramatically again—as if she needed to remind everyone that this was, in fact, the genuine, bona fide Loki—and walked out of the town hall. With her departure, the whole hall lit up with gossip. Valkyrie rose from her spot, grabbed her phone, and dialed the best lawyer she knew.
“Murdock, we have a Loki problem in Asgard,” Valkyrie said. She rubbed at her temples. “No, not a world ending emergency Loki, but a legal problem Loki.” Murdock went on his lawyer spiel about not practicing Asgardian law from the other side of the phone, but she interrupted him. “Then you have a week to learn. We need to stop this, Murdock. Now.”
Carol scratched at her stomach as she leaned back in bed. The gray ceiling was more interesting than another day in space. She’d taken on a bounty for a few murderous Kree rogues that the Congress of Worlds had ordered brought in, but they’d been successful at evading her.
Until now. That was the real problem. She was honing in on those Kree terrorists and would be on them within a few minutes. Which meant that her attempts to avoid thinking about her own issues were coming to an end. She wasn’t sure why she’d thought trying to establish a life on Earth was all that important. Though, to be fair, most of the reason she had done so was because she had wanted to reconnect with Monica, even if she couldn’t admit it to herself at the time.
Carol had managed to make a few friends in her time trying to be part-time “normal.” And there had been a man she’d befriended, Michael Barnett.
A few months ago, though, he’d been murdered. Carol would know; the U.S. had tried to arrest her for murder. The evidence they had presented was a video of the murder. Carol could still recall humoring the police as she sat in the interrogation room. They slid the laptop across the steel table and played the video. Carol watched as she murdered Michael with her bare fists on tape. Except, in the last second of the video, the Carol in the video’s face shifted slightly, showing hints of green skin and an enlarged, distinct chin. It was as if that moment had been just for her, for the police had never seen that last second; it had faded to static every time before.
The most likely explanation was a revenge killing from one of the skrull refugees in New Asgard. She was sure at least some of them blamed her for being refugees in the first place. But when Carol demanded that Valkyrie round up the skrulls for questioning, she’d refused. No amount of explaining that they were sheltering a cold-blooded murderer could get through Valkyrie’s thick skull.
In a moment Carol was less than proud of, she had decided to take matters into her own hands. A still recovering Valkyrie fought her, and before long, Carol had learned what it was like to take a blow from Mjölnir head on as Thor had come to fight at Valkyrie’s side. It knocked some sense into Carol, and she had left, frustrated that Michael’s murderer was right there and she couldn’t bring the murderer to justice.
And there was the problem. Once she was back on Earth, she’d be forced to deal with Valkyrie, who she hadn’t seen since their fight. Carol pondered taking the long way home. It would be hard to look Valkyrie in the eye anymore, to even set foot in New Asgard, knowing that she had no problem harboring fugitives. But she wasn’t going to let Michael Barnett’s killer escape so easily. This time, though, she’d approach it more diplomatically.
Carol held her hand up to the artificial lighting, the white triangle tattoo on her knuckle taking her back to a time when she’d felt like Valkyrie was her closest friend. Years ago, back on Adontis, where she’d taken a well-earned vacation with Valkyrie, they had gone out for drinks. It was one of the few times she’d been able to enjoy herself since destroying the Kree’s supercomputer. Not that she could remember much about it, aside from singing some silly tune in the bar with Valkyrie, then leaning in and whispering something in her ear. To lose Valkyrie as a friend—worse, really, because they had been becoming something more—still hurt worse than she could have imagined. Her eyes drifted to the closet, where the only photo of that night was stored in a box buried under piles of clothing. Why hadn’t she thrown it out after her falling out with Valkyrie?
“Carol?” Speaking of friends, Jessica Jones appeared on the ship’s hologram communicator. Carol stood up and went to see what she wanted.
“Hey, Jess,” Carol said. She coughed and had to do a double take when she noticed a very pregnant Jessica in the hologram. “Um, that’s—”
Jessica looked down at herself. “Yeah, it’s new.” Probably why Jessica had tried to schedule lunch with her a couple of months ago.
“That’s—”
“It’s good. Yeah, it’s good.”
“Okay,” Carol said. “So how’d—”
“Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much—”
“No, how’d you find me?” Carol asked. Her eyes darted back and forth. “But also, how? Who?”
Jessica laughed. It unsettled Carol; she hadn’t heard that from her friend for a long time. “Luke Cage.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Damn. Good for you.”
“Good for him,” Jessica responded. “As for this, my client asked me to track you down. I know a gu- a Howard—”
“A Howard?”
“A Howard, who put me in touch with the Guardians. And they had your contact details.”
“Okay, but who is your client? Why do they want to see me?”
“I can’t discuss the why, but the who is Matt Murdock—”
“Murdock? Really? Hell’s Kitchen Murdock?”
“Yeah, Hell’s Kitchen’s one and only Matt Murdock. He’s representing an Asgardian, but that’s all I know. Needs you for the case.”
“I’m heading back that way anyway,” Carol told her. “Just give me a few minutes to bust some terrorist skulls.”
“Bust away,” Jessica told her, actually smiling. Carol was happy for her. She wondered if she’d ever find someone that made her smile like that. Unlikely, she supposed. Even if Valkyrie did come to her senses, Carol had done what she did best and pissed away any chance of a happy ending when she’d tried to fight her way into New Asgard. “I contacted you, so I get paid either way.”
Carol laughed. “Let’s get lunch sometime, Ms. Jones.”
“Mrs. Cage.”
“Really?” Carol raised a brow.
Jessica shrugged. “Probably, in a few weeks at least.”
“Why a few—”
“Baby’s due in a week.”
“Congrats, Jess. Really,” Carol told her. “I’ll bring the kid something special. He’ll love it.”
“She.”
“She? Did you find out the sex already?”
“I just know.”
“You just know?”
“I just know. See you soon, Carol.”
“I’ll be there,” Carol said, shutting off the communications. She prayed she didn’t turn out to be a liar this time. Somehow, she always seemed to fail her friends, and her family. But there was no time to worry about that. She’d finally reached the Kree. She triggered her helmet, then lit up and headed out of the ship and towards the unsuspecting Kree terrorists.