When Hela came to, everything around her was pitch black. The last thing she remembered was Agatha yelling her name while the Einherjar were dragging her away before she lost consciousness. The royal guards had been waiting for a moment of weakness to act against her. They would not have won otherwise. They knew that. She was the best warrior in all Asgard. Odin had always used dubious methods once again. The king wanted to win at any cost. He presented himself as this all mighty, wise and benevolent ruler. The Aesir were blind to what they didn't want to see. Odin was the god of war and war was never pretty.
Hela had barely enough time to look at her son before she was knocked out. He was the most beautiful being she had ever seen. He was crying like any newborn would. Did he know what was happening somehow? The soft looking baby's skin was blue, like any other Jotun's. It was a lighter shade than any of the ice giants she had ever seen. Would his eyes be ruby red as well? She was sure he had that particular baby smell mixed with the scent of pine and snow. Hela didn't have the time to find that out.
In the place she had been banned to, she attempted to walk as far and as long as she possibly could. The darkness was so dense it was impossible to determine where she was going. For all she knew, she could be running in circles. There was nothing around, just the void. The silence was deafening. Her own breath sounded too loud. The panic was taking over her. Her heart was beating widely. She collapsed on her knees. For the first time in her life, Hela cried, feeling completely defeated. Odin had cast her into the void. She was all alone in the emptiness.
She did her best to keep track of the passing of time in her new jail. Everything was just black. There was no sunrise to mark the hours of the days, the coming of the night. There was no morning, afternoon, evening fading light or no stars at night. The void was surrounding her, everywhere she looked, anywhere she went. She tried to keep it all at bay by carrying on the routine of the soldier. That was how Odin had raised her. From a very young age, she had been forced to wake up at dawn and spend the majority of the day training in any form of combat available in all the realms. Odin had always wanted an heir just as savage on the battlefield as he could be, if not more.
At an age when other children were still playing with toys, training had been replaced by very real bloody battles. She was to lead the charge and fight like any other Aesir. According to Odin, it would be a rite of passage for her. Because one day she would be queen, she had to set an example. If she was a true warrior, she would be able to survive on her own, she would be able to guide her army to victory. The Aesir deserved a strong leader. If not, it would simply demonstrate that she never had it in her to begin with. Hela managed to pull through, it was just who she was. She eventually became the best at what she did, earning the respect of her troops and putting fear in the heart of her enemies. In the process, she earned a nickname that would become her title. Hela, goddess of death
She tried again and again not to fall into madness but the void was oppressive, seeping into her bones, her very core. Wherever she was, there was no bed, no way to build a fire, not even a blanket to keep the cold at bay. Death would have been preferable. Her own father was really torturing her, and she had no idea why. Having a child with a Jotun was not enough of a transgression to warrant such treatment. Banning her in another realm would have been more than enough. Odin had a lovely new wife and a handsome new baby boy. Hela wouldn't have been in his way. She never wanted the throne and was more than ready to begin a new life far away from Asgard. There was no reason to go that far in his punishment.
But that was precisely why she had been sent there. Thor. The golden child. Odin had no use of her now that he had a male heir. The boy would certainly grow to be the perfect Aesir. Blond with broad shoulders. The perfect warrior. The old king wasn't about to take the chance on her reclaiming her rightful place in a century or two. Hela could have sworn to high heavens and all of the norns that she would never come back to Asgard, Odin had not believed her. Everything had to be done his way. At least until the baby was old enough to rule on his own.
