Marvel: What If Thanos Adopted A Saiyan?-Chapter 196 - 197: Odin’s Departure

Asgard, The Royal Palace.

Hela was locked in a spirited argument with her mother, Frigga, over the matter of her marriage.

She admitted, begrudgingly, that she did feel something unusual around Lothar, but that was only because he had bested her repeatedly in combat. It wasn’t affection. Definitely not.

Raised from childhood by Odin as the heir to the throne of Asgard, Hela had exceptionally high standards when it came to choosing a mate. Strong as Lothar might be, he still hadn’t reached the level that could make her heart stir or earn her admiration.

At least, that’s what she had always told herself.

She firmly believed that her true partner would appear before her like the peerless heroes spoken of in Asgardian legends, bathed in golden light, descending like a god from the heavens.

That was her ideal. And Lothar clearly didn’t fit the bill.

"Hela, that’s just a fairy tale," Frigga said, half laughing, half exasperated.

She truly hadn’t expected that her battle-hardened daughter still clung to the bedtime stories she had told her as a child.

"I thought you could tell the difference between fantasy and reality."

"Why not?" Hela shot back, undeterred. "Weren’t you and Father a fairy tale?"

She held her ground, citing the perfect example: Frigga, the princess of Vanaheim, and Odin, the prince of Asgard.

Their union was the stuff of legend, arguably the most romantic tale in the Nine Realms.

"A prince and a princess falling in love. Isn’t that the template for every fairy tale?"

"...Hela."

Frigga hesitated. Her eyes softened, revealing a flicker of emotion she rarely showed.

What she and Odin had in the beginning... had been far more political than romantic.

"Enough. I need rest," Hela said at last.

Seeing that Frigga had no more to say, she didn’t bother continuing the discussion. When it came to marriage, Hela wasn’t about to back down.

She was the princess of Asgard. The rightful heir to the throne. The Goddess of Death who commanded the legions of fallen Asgardian warriors. She had the right to expect a partner who met her impossible standards.

"I understand. Rest well, dear."

Knowing when to step back, Frigga rose and gently kissed her daughter’s forehead in apology before leaving the room, giving Hela the space she needed.

The marriage was only a proposal, after all. No need to pressure her just yet.

Still, she thought, maybe there’d be a way to give Lothar and Hela more time together, just to see how things might develop...

"Why would they ever want me to marry Lothar?"

"Why?"

After Frigga left, Hela lay back on her bed, eyes shut, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Her mind kept circling back to the topic of marriage.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she became, and the harder it was to fall asleep.

Why on Earth would her parents want to pair her up with Lothar?

The only plausible explanation she could come up with was that one time, in the frozen wastelands, when he had kissed her. Without permission.

Just thinking about it made her blood boil.

"That bastard..."

Teeth clenched, Hela’s fists balled at the memory of Lothar’s smug face. She wanted nothing more than to grab him by the collar and let her fury fly.

As usual, she acted on impulse.

An Asgardian woman never backed down from a fight.

Once again, she accessed Woz’s communication system, thankfully, the backdoor she installed last time was still active.

...

Penal Zone.

Lothar sat at the table, a post-meal candy stick between his lips, staring sullenly at a blank notebook. One hand propped up his chin, while circular patterns flickered faintly in his pupils.

On the large page in front of him, there was only one word written:

"Reflection."

Nothing else.

His lazy orange tabby, who had snuck in with him and now occupied the top left corner of the desk, yawned and flicked its tail with boredom.

An hour had passed. Of the required 800 words, Lothar had only managed that one title.

With his red tail twitching in frustration, he finally gave up, set the pen down, and gazed at the stars above, the habit of a man who always sought inspiration from the cosmos.

As for how long that inspiration would take to arrive... who knew?

"Why are you here again?"

"Another detention?"

Hela’s holographic projection appeared before him, transmitted through his wrist communicator.

She’d come ready for battle, fury burning in her eyes, only to be caught off guard by the barren, desolate setting.

This... wasn’t quite what she expected.

"Shut up."

Lothar didn’t even flinch. He was used to Hela barging in uninvited.

Shifting into a more comfortable lounging position, he closed the notebook, but not before Hela’s sharp eyes caught sight of the glaring title.

"Reflection?" she asked.

Her expression shifted instantly, from irritation to bemusement. A grin crept across her face.

And then, she laughed.

Blatantly. Unapologetically.

It was pure, unfiltered mockery.

Especially after Lothar shot her a cold glance before turning away. That just made her laugh harder.

"Meow!"

Lothar ignored the woman who refused to leave. Meanwhile, the orange cat on the desk perked up, apparently excited to finally have something to do. It smacked the notebook with its tiny paws and bared its teeth as if challenging Hela to a duel.

"I have never seen you like this before."

Even as she tried to stifle her laughter, the corners of Hela’s mouth wouldn’t stop twitching. Her previous frustration had completely evaporated.

She was thoroughly amused.

Boom!

Lothar casually tossed an energy sphere through her hologram. In the distance, a mountaintop exploded in a blaze of light.

"Don’t make me come find you," he said, eyes cold.

Hela sat down cross-legged on the floor with an air of indifference.

"You probably shouldn’t," she said with a smirk. "If you do, my mother might just marry us on the spot."

"Marry us?" Lothar’s brow furrowed as he sat up straighter.

Not long ago, his adoptive father, Thanos, had asked him something similar.

"Did you come here to propose?"

That earned him a sharp curse from Hela:

"Go to hell!"

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

His reaction made her forget entirely why she had come in the first place.

He had this infuriating ability to provoke her without even trying.

"Just finish your reflection before you open your mouth again."

"And how is that any of your business?"

"Because watching you suffer through it makes me happy, that’s why."

"How old are you again, little brother?"

Her taunts made Lothar’s eyes flare dangerously.

Under the unchanging moonlight of the Penal Zone, the two finally broke into a rare verbal sparring match.

The highlights were as follows:

Hela (eyebrow raised, smug as ever): "At least I don’t have to write reflections like a schoolboy."

Lothar (face like stone): "And yet I’ve beaten you. More than once."

The orange cat shifted its gaze from Lothar to Hela and then back again, finally glancing down at the soft moonlight draped over its fur like a cloak.

It suddenly lost all interest in stirring up trouble.

Hela had stormed in full of rage and left in a huff of wounded pride.

After a thirty-minute argument with little to show for it, she ended the call.

Over the next three days, Hela vented her pent-up fury on the stubborn rebel strongholds of Jotunheim.

Meanwhile, Lothar finally ground out two "heartfelt" 800-word reflections, teeth clenched around his pen, and submitted them to his adoptive father, Thanos, for review.

Five days later, King Odin of Asgard, under the watchful eyes of his wife Frigga, donned the full Destroyer Armor alone and departed from Asgard, his destination: the realm of the Celestials.

He was searching for the next stage in his journey.

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