Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The one nice part about being Aura was that she did not care. Aura wouldn't care if the world burned around her. Aura wouldn't care if half of the population disappeared into ash and dust. Aura wouldn't care that Natasha sits day after day trying to find another way or that Barton falls deeper into vigilantism by the second or that Thor—the great god of thunder—sounds so utterly broken through his headset.
Stupid heart having stupid feelings. Not to mention Hank McCoy's hope that managed to get her mind thinking.
She wouldn't be here if she didn't have to be. Malka would not be stepping foot out of the forest if she could make the part herself. It had been months since she started constructing a plan, a crazy plan but a plan nonetheless. It has been driving her, pushing her to get out of bed each day.
Though, despite the pearl of hope in her chest, she still dreads this. Approaching the hill overlooking New Asgard, she sighs as she looks down at the small town. Few people are still out at this time of night, either in bars or asleep. They sure know how to drink, luckily for Malka as she quietly approaches the town, slipping between buildings and making her way to the docks.
Why would her plan include oil from a specific fish? Who knows? Not even she really knows why she needs it, but she knows it won't work without it. So, if she has to spend her nights fishing and her days hiding, so be it.
As she comes up on the docks, she pauses at the drunken laughter echoing through the air. Cursing to herself, she sneaks behind a large crate and glances around to see only one man, a bottle in hand and he stumbles around, shouting at the air with a laugh. Her eyes widen when she catches sight of the face.
Malka rushes forward, wrapping her arms around Thor's waist and pulling him back from the edge of the dock, saying, "No, no, no, let's not see how well we can swim tonight." She almost winces at how rough her voice sounds from months of no use.
For a moment, the air electrifies and tingles shoot down her bones before another laugh rumbles from his gut. "Lady Malka!" He exclaims, dropping the bottle to hug her close, even going so far as to sweep her off her feet.
The plan was no contact, but her heart beats faster with his large smile.
"Hey, Thor," she mumbles as she pushes away, her eye darting around. "Let's get you inside, yeah?"
"Ah, yes," he chuckles. "Would you like some beer?" He scoops up his forgotten bottle as she takes his arm and swings it over her shoulder. "My, it has been some time! What are you doing out here in my domain?"
"Where do you live?"
"No time for pleasantries, I see. Just up there." His voice trails off as he points. "Oh, so many stairs."
"It's ok. We can climb them together." It takes much too long to lead him back to the house on the hill, pushing open the door to find pizza boxes and beer everywhere. She deposits him on the couch before glancing around, making sure his gaming buddies are either asleep or out of the house. The best she can hope for is that he believes her to be a hallucination. Best case scenario.
"Oh, it is good to see you, M'lady," Thor beams. "Sit down, relax a bit!"
"I, uh, I have business. Thank you for the offer."
"Surely, you can spare a few minutes for an old friend?" She frowns as she turns back to him, his voice turning desperate. He shakes it off and holds out an unopened bottle of beer.
"I prefer tea. I'll go make some." It is surprisingly easy to find tea and a kettle in the house. The kitchen is mostly untouched, stocked with bare essentials with coffee, tea, eggs, milk, and other things she does not look for. When she returns with two cups, she hands one to Thor before settling on the lone chair, relishing the hot liquid sliding down her throat.
"Now, do not think less of me, but I think I shall have the beer."
She smirks. "More for me."
He chuckles as he puts down the cup and reaches for a bottle. "So, tell me, friend, what brings you here?"
Malka considers lying. She truly does. "I hear you have special fish. I thought I would come to see if it were true."
"So, not for me then?"
"I did not think I would see you, no." She slouches a bit in the seat. "But now that I'm here, how are you? Enjoying your time here on Earth?"
He shrugs, though the brightness in his drunken smile fades. "You do make amazing video games. Would you like to play?"
"I am content with my tea, thank you. But, Thor, really. How are you? It has been a couple of years since—"
He holds up a hand rather quickly. "We don't talk about that here."
"Understandable."
"Not after what he did."
"I prefer not to talk about him either."
"It is stupid, really," he scoffs. "He's dead. I killed him. Why remember what he did? Why remember how he murdered half of my people only snap away more? Remember that he boarded our ship, killed my friends. Killed Loki."
Silence spreads between them. Malka holds no love for the trickster god, the one who tried to take her mind so long ago. Thor had told her in those three weeks after the snap about what had happened, about where his rage stems from. It's sad, really—he thought she would have gotten along with the new Loki. Malka cannot imagine the kind of carnage Thanos brought to the people of Asgard, but she can guess.
"You know, as someone who also watched their family die, I cannot say it gets better," she says as she leans forward. "I cannot say I don't think back to those days before it all when everything was ok without tears. But I keep going. I have to. For the sake of those who rely on me. I do what I must."
When he turns to her, tears line his eyes. "The consequences are too much," he says softly, pointing to his mismatched eyes before doing the same to her. "And now, nothing matters."
Malka sighs as she stands and deposits herself next to him. "You're right. Nothing matters because they are gone. All of them. So, we can wallow or we can keep moving on. Like they would want."
He slumps in his seat, though he grips her hand tightly. Patting his hand, she stands, saying, "Well, I wouldn't want to miss the fish. I hear some of that oil can do wonders."
"Just take the jar." He motions to a small mason jar on a broken shelf. "Just come back to visit."
"Of course. Get some sleep, ok?" She smiles her goodbye as she takes the jar in her hands and walks out. As she steps into the cool air, she knows a woman awaits—had sensed her approach. "What's your name?"
The woman arches a brow. "Valkyrie. And you are?"
Holding out a piece of paper with her emergency number written, Malka says, "If he ever gets too bad, call this number, and I'll be here as fast as I can. Nice to meet you, Valkyrie."
The woman smirks. "Good to know one of his friends still keeps an eye on him, Lady Laska. I'll keep that in mind."
