AN: Since I'm sad that Valkyrie was not mentioned in Infinity War at all (not even a throwaway line!), my feels kicked into overdrive and have planted me firmly in this new AU. I'm pretending that there was a good amount of time between the ending of Ragnarok and the cut scene that shows Thanos intercepting the Asgardians on their way to Earth. So yes, we know where this is ending. But don't you fret; there's a little love story for my beloved Thorkyrie.

I'm so not sorry about loving them as much as I do. I was bound to give in and so I'm in no way responsible for what happens here.

*DISCLAIMER* I don't own any of the characters mentioned throughout this fic—Marvel beat me to it.

The smile on Valkyrie's face as Thor sits in his throne shows no sign of completely disappearing. She's happy and relieved to see him minding this new role with a seriousness she didn't think him capable. Granted—and she took an embarrassingly long while to accept coming to this conclusion—Valkyrie hadn't known him very well, and it's even worse that she'd drawn conclusions of his character without so much as a thought that she may be wrong. But he fought. Thor is a fighter—a paladin of good—and continues to hold onto little bit of innocence. With the 500 years of life she has on him, not once did she stop to consider his undeniable goodness was not reason enough to help him succeed at saving their home. But she's glad she didn't listen to the doubt. And Asgard, the place, may have gone up in the flames, the people are safe. It's been so long since she's called them hers, but they are, they're her people and it's been way too long since she's thought of others interests over her own.

Her knack for self preservation took her to Sakaar, made her the best Scrapper The Grandmaster could have hoped for. And for a while, it was enough, pushing down centuries worth of pain and grief— burying everything at the bottom of an ale, before her stomach swallowed the rest of it. It didn't need to be processed because she simply drinks until she can't feel.

Thor's undeniable ability to see right through her crap caught her off guard, he didn't even realize he'd done so. He smiled at her in a way that simply regurgitated the memories of home—what it feels like to be amongst her kind. He didn't look at her like she was some lost, broken being. And in the process forced her to remember herself— a fighter. No one can take that from her.

Stories of her past were hard to shake on Sakaar. When they weren't fawning over the Hulk, people took an interest in the Grandmaster's best Scrapper, a proven formidable opponent, and from the looks of her tattoo: a Valkyrie. And into her life Thor crashed; with no preamble, and no regret. In hours he realized who she is and her bubble effectively burst. She'd only been comforted by the idea he would have been crushed by The Grandmaster's champion. Of course that didn't happen and she'd been impressed by his courage. Perhaps she knew from that moment that she would help him if he asked nicely enough, if she was bored with her circumstances… enough.

She watches him now, her hair flowing freely past her shoulders, truly appreciating his hold on her. His unflinching resolve forced her out of her denial—she can't run from her life forever. Being a drunk—an uncaring drunk—is not who she is. And though her ability to chug an entire carafe of alcohol is a great party trick, he was right to call her on her shit when he did. He called her a coward, a deserter who'd forsake her post as a mighty warrior. He was wrong of course, to assume. But he had done her a favor. Thor had reminded her of at least one thing—she was allowing loss to ruin her.

Heimdall pats her shoulder in passing, giving a nod, "I knew you hadn't forgotten."

The Warrior bows her head momentarily, accepting what he says. He may have been certain, but she wasn't. She doesn't want to voice her conflicts to Heimdall—even if he'd understand. It feels silly to have tried running and hiding from who she is.

Thor looks back at her then, noting that she was still standing there. Everyone else dispersing to all other inhabitable portions of the ship, no longer amused or shaken by the dark abyss of space—just tired. Everyone is incredibly tired. But not her, she's concerned of Thor's wellbeing. It feels weird to think of not just herself, but the man just days ago imprisoned by her doing. He doesn't look like he blames her at all. It's unhealthy probably, that he's forgiven her so swiftly simply because she got him from Sakaar back to Asgard. But with his goodness, comes his ability to forgive. His relationship with Loki—mystifying and exhausting to even try and understand—is testament to his ability to let the past be the past. She however, finds the niggling of hatred for Loki, for his tricks, reminding her of those she's lost is still there. The God of Mischief is avoiding her.

"Keeping an eye on me, are you?" Thor asks, amused. She folds her hands in front of herself as she smirks and steps closer to his seat.

"You need the help," she comments, making him snort. She watches him drag his hand across his face tiredly, gentle fingers ghosting over his eye patch. She's even more endeared to him than she cares to admit. She never will say the words out loud. He lets out a yawn, a soft smile returning seconds later.

"That's rude," He replies, not at all hurt like his reply could suggest. The soft smile she's grown to expect is right there for her to see, corners of his mouth upturned flirtatiously. She almost rolls her eyes at him. He gave her the same look when she presented him with his seat.

Leaning her hip on the throne, her arm resting above his head, she looks down at him, "Are you sure heading to Midgard is the best idea?"

"The best option," Thor nods, idly gazing out at the darkness of space. He's slouched, but relaxed. "You disagree?"

"I've never been. I can't say there's no risk. There's always risk" She says with a sigh. "But if you're certain…"

"I am," Thor says, thinking of all the times he's saved the Midgardians at this point. They always seem to be in danger— it's kind of disheartening. Why can no one ever just stay saved? "They love me."

She laughs at his one piece of criteria. It may not be a good reason, or any reason at all. But what other options do they have? "Well, then I trust you."

He looks at her, blue eyes bright with pride. She can't help but smile while he stares at her. "That means a lot to me, Valkyrie."

"Brunnhilde," The warrior says, finding the title Valkyrie to be a reminder of too much pain. He should know her name. She breathes in deep, and then stares at the stars, the big window gives an inviting look at the abyss ahead of them. Her heart thumps in anticipation of the unknown. Her heart aches to know there is a huge gap where Asgard once was. "I didn't think I'd miss it, you know? I was so angry."

"You have a lot to be angry about," He says sadly. "You and your sisters were brave."

She snorts without humor. Knowing her sisters died at Hela's hand, and she had froze seeing her lover die in her place… being reminded of bravery is no consolation. "We were meant to protect the throne, all knowing one day we'd die. You forget it's what others consider bravery—it becomes second nature. Hela was stronger than we'd anticipated, and we weren't prepared. It was a bloodbath and Odin… He knew." Being used as a pawn leaves her with a new level of disdain pointed at the dead king. She still feels so much rage she can never shout at him. "When you and I met…. when I found you, I knew you. I wanted to hate you. But you aren't your father."

"He had so many secrets I can never ask him about," Thor is left feeling sick and conflicted. The man he remembers as a loving, wise father and king had a dark, cruel past. "What my father did to you and the rest of the Valkyrior was wrong." Thor says. He remembers all the valiant women who fought for their home planet. They didn't deserve to be left to Hela and her whims. His sister took his eye without thought. She knew no mercy and Odin discarded them knowing Hela would destroy them all while she felt unparalleled giddiness in the face of battle, "I am sorry… and I'm sorry I accused you of being a coward."

She nods, accepting his apology. The last warrior of her kind can feel his sincerity and the moment is filled with regretful sorrow that he should not be carrying. "It's not your fault. You didn't know. And that was how he meant it to be." She can see the very second his inner conflict flows to the surface, simmering right behind a blank stare, "It was another time," She adds with a sigh. Hoping to levy some of his pain, she runs her hand along his sturdy shoulders.

"You're old," He jokes lightly, winking at her playfully even though he's feeling crushed under the weight of realization. She scoffs before replying.

"Very funny Lord of Thunder," Brunnhilde teases smugly, seeing the eye roll he throws back at her.

She laughs genuinely, distracted as he reaches up, hooking his fingers with hers, squeezing lightly. She holds tight, not wanting to let him go—knowing even now, so soon after meeting, she'll never want to let go.