The Talk

It has been three eventful years within the grand palace of Asgard for our goddess, Hela. Many exciting and chaotic events have unfolded, including wild parties, encounters with eccentric individuals, thrilling fights, theft of vehicles, and mischievous exploits. Now, Hela has reached the milestone of ten years old. She adorns a charming green dress, with twin tails framing her cute face, and a hint of plumpness in her cheeks, complementing her dark black hair. Delicate gold ornaments adorn her neck, adding a touch of elegance.

As we peer into Hela's room, we find her engrossed in reading books on ruins, chemistry, and mathematics. She diligently works on her math homework, a subject she finds arduous and frustrating.

Hela: (This math stuff sucks ass! I hate it! It requires all of my brainpower to keep up with these advanced calculations. Now I understand why Tony, Reed, and Hank are referred to as "monsters." I can't do these damn math problems, and even science seems to revolve around math. Life feels miserable at the moment, but I do have my dreams, though.)

While Hela grumbles and questions her life choices, a discussion takes place between the king and queen regarding their firstborn daughter.

Frigga: (Do you truly believe she is old enough to join the war? Is it the right choice to rob her of her childhood and expose her to the fires of war? My love, it may be cruel.)

Odin: (I understand your concern, my love, but these are turbulent times. War is a necessary evil. We must conquer these lands to achieve true peace. Hela is old enough; I went to war myself at the tender age of eight. We must do this for the sake of peace.)

Frigga: (I disagree. She is still too young. Besides, you are more than capable of facing this war alone. She hasn't even learned to wield a sword or fight. She hasn't acquired the knowledge of runes.)

Odin: (I know, but she is an astute and intelligent girl. From what I gather, she is eager to join the war and assert her dominance over the weak. I will personally train her, and she will become my sharp sword in this conflict.)

Frigga: (I cannot prevent this, but I implore you not to let her participate until she acquires her weapon befitting her divinity. Although she possesses immense strength and intelligence for her age, she is still a child. I worry about our daughter; she means everything to me. Please keep her safe.)

Odin: (Worry not about her weapon; I have entrusted Eitri, the Dwarf King, with the task of creating a weapon specifically tailored to her needs, one suited for this war. It will be a sword, the most versatile of weapons. With it, she will become the greatest warrior in Asgard.)

Frigga: (I hope the future holds brightness for her and for Asgard. I yearn for peace to prevail soon. This war will only lead to more death and destruction. I fear that the allure of gold may blind us, and we may come to regret our choices.)

With that, Odin turned away from his wife and resumed his duties. Engrossed in the ongoing war, he felt a tinge of anger toward his wife, but he dismissed it quickly, recognizing the demands on his time. Leaving his wife behind, he issued orders to the royal guards to prepare the princess, as they were set to embark on the real battle the following day.

As instructed, the guards relayed the message to the head maid, who prepared herself for the task at hand. As a royal maid, she efficiently carried out her duties with haste. Meanwhile, within the confines of her room, Hela enjoyed a moment of tranquility, sipping on a cup of tea during the afternoon.

However, her peace was soon interrupted by the head maid, who shattered the calm by informing her that she had to retire early that evening. The following day held great importance for her—a day in which she would accompany the king to war. Although annoyed, as she was naturally a night owl, Hela reluctantly complied with the request.

When she awoke the next day, she felt refreshed after a full six hours of sleep. As a god, she required less sleep, but she felt invigorated nonetheless. The morning was hectic, with maids bustling around the palace, ensuring Hela was properly attired and her hair meticulously styled.

Growing irritated by the constant buzzing of the maids, Hela demanded a change. She insisted on cutting her hair into a boyish style, much to the maids' trepidation. In an attempt to divert her, they hesitated, afraid to touch her beautiful locks. Determined, Hela took matters into her own hands, seizing a pair of scissors and snipping off her long tresses.

Some maids panicked at the sight, while others marveled at the princess's audacity. Eventually, they summoned the courage to style her hair according to her wishes. Even with a boyish cut, Hela retained her loveliness, now resembling a pretty boy rather than a girl.

Once ready, she adorned herself in a warrior's dress—an overall black ensemble, consisting of lightweight armor crafted from leather and metal plates. The attire was not only comfortable and form-fitting but also capable of withstanding arrows and sword strikes.

Left alone for a brief respite, Hela sat down, savoring her tea, using the moment of calm to gather her thoughts.

Hela: (The day has finally arrived. Oh, how long I've enjoyed my freedom from wars! My old buddy calls me back this year. Living as a child again felt like a dream come true, but now fate beckons me to become serious once more. Gone are my days of carefree childhood; now it's war.)