Work Text:
"Come and meet Atreus, Heimdall."
His father's words had been soft and coated with a sweetness he wasn't used to. Usually Odin would spit an order and he would obey, but the gentle hand on his back and honeyed words felt foreign as he was corralled into the lodge. He couldn't help but wonder if he had done something wrong, especially when he's suddenly pushed in front of a giant of a man.
The hulking man was pale, sickly so but the red coating on his body was prominent and Heimdall's eyes were drawn to them before landing on cold, dark eyes, a scar blemishing the skin. He forced his little body straight, ready to deal with whatever punishment this stranger was to do to him.
"Boy, come."
He was about to move towards him when two blue eyes had peaked out from behind the man, staring intently up at the stranger before locking onto Heimdall's. He looked only slightly younger than he was, maybe 12? He was unsure and had to bite back an insult when the redhead kid bounded over to him in excitement.
"Hi! I'm Atreus!" Atreus babbled and Heimdall was able to take in his appearance better. The kid has obviously been in a few scrapes, scars littering his face and freckles splattering his skin like the ink that dropped off of Odin's feather quill when he scribbled onto parchments of paper. "Your eyes are pretty, why are they purple? Or are they pink?"
Tattooed fingers reached for his face and Heimdall growled low in his throat, causing the other kid to back away with wide eyes. His threat died on his tongue when Odin had reached down and rested his hand against the back of his neck, fingers moving in a seemingly soothing motion but Heimdall knew it was a warning. Behave .
"Now, Heimdall, is that any way to treat your future husband?"
"Husband?"
"Husband?"
He glared sharply at Atreus echoing his words, forcing himself to not smirk smugly when the other ducked against, what Heimdall assumed, his father's legs. The stranger looked nothing like the boy but the way little fingers gripped the other's trousers seemed to confirm he was his father, or at least someone close to Atreus. He's brought out of his thoughts when Odin's hand pulls away from his neck and pats his head, he wants to lean into it, to accept some of the only affection he's received in all his young years of life from his own father but he doesn't. It's all a show of course and Heimdall had to play along like a good little puppet on strings.
"Yes. Atreus and you are to be married, once you are both older of course."
Heimdall frowned, fists clutching at his sides. He doesn't want to be married, he doesn't want to be a husband, all he wants to do is go back to his game with Baldur. The runt tried so hard to beat him and it was fun to watch the shitling stomp his feet and accuse Heimdall of cheating (he was but little half blooded brats didn't need to know that). Why was father doing this? It made no sense in his head. It seemed the other brat also had the same doubts, clinging onto the mass of muscle's trousers with desperation and pleading to stay with him. Heimdall notices the stranger tense, a masked layer of sadness radiating from him and the young god finds himself curious of what Odin had promised for this exchange. He bristles when Atreus is gently picked up and cuddled, what he could only guess as promises and reassurance being whispered into the brat's ear.
Heimdall decided there and then he hated Atreus.
So it seemed the half breed was talented in the ways of magic. So what?
Heimdall was talented in swordsmanship, could see an opponent's attack and dodge it before the thought had even fully formed in their mind and he could manipulate bifrost to his advantage.
And yet? He still wasn't enough .
The All-Father had never taught him the kind of magic and spells that he teaches Atreus. Never shown as much interest in his studies or training or anything for that matter.
It's infuriating. It's sickening. It's hurtful .
"You may be the All-Fathers favourite right now, sunshine," Heimdall spits, trapping Atreus' arm in a deathgrip and yanks. Atreus is dragged along with him, stumbling like a newborn foal but Heimdall refuses to slow, not until they reach the training fields does he finally let go and watch as the half-breed eats dirt. "But no one else's. No one wants the mongrel son of the God Killer in Asgard."
"I'm not Odin's favourite-" Atreus grounds out, spitting flecks of dirt and gravel from his lips. He shifts onto his knees in preparation to get up but Heimdall beats him to it, a hard shove with his boot on the younger's back sending him back where he belongs. "Ugh.. I'm not his child so I'm never going to be his favourite."
The words sting and Heimdall removes his foot as if it was scalded by fire. He lets Atreus' get up this time, pettiness flowing through his veins at the state of the others' clothing being out of place and covered in a thick layer of grime.
"It's All-Father to you, brat."
"What the fuck is your problem?"
"You."
Atreus' eyes meet his and Heimdall sneers, golden teeth glinting at him. It's fun to rile the runt up, his temper is shorter than Baldur's and his unpredictability could have made him a threat if Heimdall was not the god of foresight.
"I asked, alright?! I wanted to learn how to create a rune to muffle or drown out noises and Odi- The All-Father is teaching me."
"Ah, so you can snoop around quietly? So you can stab us in the back while we slee-"
"I'm doing it for you!"
Heimdall's mouth pauses in his words when he's interrupted before he snaps it shut with an audible clacking of teeth. He frowns at Atreus, arms folded over his chest and cocks his head to the side, scrutinising the other, now shy, teen. The silence makes the little giant more nervous, fingers twitching against his sides and he shifts his weight from one leg to the other.
"I.. I noticed that sometimes in the great hall you flinch-"
"I do not flinc-"
"You grimace or lean away when someone speaks to you a little too loudly or if things start getting rowdy. I, um, I just thought I could help you."
What .
Something curls its way around his stomach and it feels like it's full of those damn raven's feathers, it's ticklish and soft and warm and he's not sure what it means. All he knows is he doesn't like it.
"Touching, truly but I'd rather not have you drown out my hearing and then try and attack me."
"Oh my fuc- do you ever have fun, Heimdall? Do you ever just chill out and not expect the worst? You act like a grizzled old man and not a nineteen year old!"
"Shut up, child. Don't patronise me when you still deem running around playing make believe with Midgardian boys, fun."
"I'm literally a year younger than- you know what? Forget it."
The half breed throws up his hands in defeat and annoyance but also embarrassment as he turns from the older god. He wants to feel gleeful that he had basically forced Atreus to back down and give up the argument but instead he feels slightly guilty. It had been a very long time since he could remember the last time someone had done something nice and not have hidden intent behind it.
He hated that it confused him, hated Atreus for making him feel this way.
"Can you turn into a fish?"
"I can't swim.."
"Okay, nevermind, don't want you drowning!" Skjoldr laughs at Loki's words but there's no malice in his voice. Heimdall can't help but roll his eyes as he sinks his teeth into the crisp flesh of the apple in his fist. He wasn't spying , it was his duty to make sure the Aesir were safe from any threat, especially from the whirlwind of mayhem that was dubbed Atreus. "What about a vulture?"
Fitting , Heimdall deemed.
"I don't know what one looks like."
"Me neither.."
Another crunch, a few chews and finally a swallow. Heimdall looks down at the apple in his hands before he lets it fall down the wall, watching the leftover flesh become mangled from bouncing and churning against the jagged stones before it finally lands in the grass with a surprisingly soft 'thud' .
"Maybe we're going about this wrong." Skjoldr exclaims, hands resting on his hips as he paced around in a circle, flattening the green grass under his feet. He suddenly pauses and spins around fast enough it makes Atreus step back and Heimdall's eyes narrow. "What about changing gender? Or changing into someone else? Can you change into me?"
"Um.. I'm not sure? I don't think I want to change into someone else either." Atreus murmurs softly and shuffles his steps like a youngling asking their crush to dance with them at Yule. It makes Heimdall's lip curl. "It feels.. wrong?"
"Damn.. there goes my idea of getting you to do my chores pretending to be me- Ow!"
Atta boy , Heimdall muses when Atreus playfully punches the Midgardian in the shoulder. Now sock him in the nose.
"I can shift into a woman, I've done it before."
Atreus' words make the golden god's attention jolt from the thoughts of having Skjoldr beaten to a pulp and back onto his so-called husband. He's unable to stop the glower forming on his face. He knew shapeshifters could become different things but he had never even assumed they were able to alter their own sex.
Golden sparks engulf the half-breed and Heimdall watches in curiousity, only to see Atreus stay the same. What -
"Erm," the blonde murmurs, eyes roaming Atreus' form in a mix of confusion and curious intensity, trying to figure out what his friend had changed. "You look the same."
"But I'm not!" Atreus protested, hands fumbling with the leather straps around his tunic before he lets them fall to the floor. He grabs Skjoldr's wrists and shoves the blonde's hands into his chest, lithe fingers curling around two lumps and Heimdall almost launches himself off the wall and onto the Midgardian brat. "See? I'm.. I don't know how to make myself look more feminine but I can change into a woman."
"Oh! Oh uh, yes! Yes I can feel i- Lord Heimdall-"
Skjoldr blunders and moves away from Atreus when the fore mentioned lord had clambered down Asgard's walls, taking mere moments thanks to years of experience and knowing exactly what crevices to leap onto. He's in between the two brats and he forcefully shoves the blonde onto his arse.
"Having fun feeling up my husband?"
Or.. should he say wife right now?
Shapeshifters were confusing.
"N-no I-"
"I should gut you," Heimdall snarls, stepping closer to the trembling mortal and pressing his foot against his stomach. He slowly pushes his weight downwards, reveling in the feeling of the mortal's precious air puff out of his body. "Treacherous behaviour to attempt to seduce an Aesir god's wife. I wonder how the All-Father would take such-"
"Heimdall! Enough." Atreus barks and he glances over at the giant. His eyes instinctively settle on his chest and he's disappointed the two small mounds are gone, replaced with a flat chest. He lets his eyes roam upwards and meets the half-breed's gaze. "You and I both know you don't give a shit about this marriage and I was the one that encouraged it. Let him go."
Almost obediently, he steps off of Skjoldr. He relishes the mortal desperately sucking in air into his lungs and even more so when he glances between the two gods, bumbling out some petty excuse and almost sprints from them.
"You're a fucking prick."
Heimdall raises his eyebrows, making sure the blonde runt was well and truly gone before facing Atreus.
"Excuse me? I wasn't the one acting like a whore and flaunting himself."
"I wasn't-"
He grasps Atreus' chin, gentle enough to not hurt but firm enough to leave no room for argument. He preens when Atreus obediently stills.
He wants to kiss him.
"Adultery is not permitted in this marriage so I suggest you cut this behaviour out."
Heimdall let's him go but Atreus doesn't back off as he expected him to. They both stay glued to their spot, the only movements being of their eyes.
Heimdall is about to lean in but Atreus turns hastily and walks away.
Heimdall hated Atreus for leaving him wanting.
"It's uncomfortable down here."
Heimdall rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time.
"Good."
"I'm cold."
"How can you be cold when you have literal frost giant blood flowing through your veins?"
"How can you be so hot when you have literal ice for a heart?"
Heimdall blinks once. Twice. He turns and peers his head down off of his bed and focuses on the lump of furs containing Atreus. Somewhere in the pile the other god lays but it's hard to make out what's half-breed and what's fur. He grins tauntingly when a bright red face pops out of the pile, ah, there he is.
"Not like that! Damn it, I mean you're like warm, stupidly warm. I can feel it from here."
"Of course, sunshine. Whatever gets you to sleep at night."
He leans back on his bed, making a show of stretching his arms and legs when he can still feel those eyes on him. He's been rather accommodating actually, giving most of his furs and blankets to the ungrateful swine lying on his floor who still found the need to complain.
"Am I ever going to get my own bed or am I just going to break my back on the cold hard floor every night?"
"Do you ever just, I don't know, shut up?"
Heimdall had been livid when Odin had more or less told him Atreus would be moving into Himinbjörg. They were both in their twenties now, too young to be married just yet, Odin had said, but old enough to live together.
Utter horseshit.
He wanted to refuse, to tell Odin to take Atreus in himself but what the All-Father commanded, Heimdall would do. It was all he was good for after all.
Didn't mean he couldn't complain about it.
Atreus had taken to Himinbjörg the second the half-breed's feet had tarnished it's floors, hastily dumping his belongings and messing up Heimdall's dining table before roaming around as if he was the owner. Touching things, asking questions, making a mess and even tried getting into his bed once they had settled for the night.
Heimdall had wanted to scream.
He had thrown piles of his own bedding onto the floor and told Atreus to be a good pup and lie down. It had surprisingly worked, a little whining had ensured of course but for the most part Atreus was quiet.
"Coooold."
Until now.
Against better judgment, Heimdall rolls to the furthest side of his bed. It's an invitation, an opening, if Atreus was smart enough he would see it because Hel would freeze over twice before Heimdall asked the little giant into his bed.
It's quiet for a few minutes and Heimdall's eyes begin to drift shut before snapping open when weight presses down onto the mattress and a furry pile settles against the naked skin of his back. How cold could one frost giant be-
He almost flies off his own bed when cold feet press against the back of his calves. He whips his head over his own shoulder and the snarl dies on his tongue when cool arms wrap around him and a weight presses against him. Great, Atreus was a cuddler .
"Than-"
"Shut it and sleep."
Heimdall hated that he felt safe in those chaotic arms.
"I'm leaving."
"Fucking finally."
Heimdall doesn't look up from where he's cleaning Hofud, watching the steel begin to gleam in the soft glow of candles scattered around the room, he doesn't even need to look to know the half breed would be frowning at his words.
"It's not forever.."
"Shame."
"You're a dick." Atreus growls, voice wavering with underlying tones of hurt and annoyance. Heimdall could care less. "I'm just going to visit my father for a few weeks. Do you want to come?"
"No."
He deafens the half breed out with the scraping of Hofud against the grindstone, sharpening the blade even more. While most had happily given their weapons over to the dwarves to repair and upgrade, Heimdall refused. Too many possibilities of Hofud being enchanted to explode or turn against his wielder, being sold off or even just destroyed.
Paranoid, yes, Heimdall would absolutely know of intent to damage his beloved sword before the treacherous thought could cross their mind but he felt more comfortable working on his own weapon. He pauses the grindstone by removing his boot from the pedal, suddenly realising the room was now empty apart from himself.
Scoffing, he stands and places Hofud carefully on the tabletop before he steps out of the room, eyes scanning left and right. It appeared Atreus had left without a goodbye and Heimdall bristled at the audacity of the giant, storming his way through the rooms to make sure the little shit had actually left.
He pauses when he steps into the living room, the dining table set up for exactly one and he's about to get even more pissed off before the scent of boiled vegetables and seared venison assaults his nose and awakens his stomach. He hadn't realised how hungry he was but it seemed Atreus had and left him dinner before he had scuttled off to Midgard. He wants to throw it out, to show.. show someone that he doesn't need to be prompted and reminded to eat and to take care of himself but his hunger gets the better of him and he greedily eats. He's in the middle of swallowing a sprout when he sees a piece of parchment placed inside a glass and he forcefully tears it out and unfurls it.
'-H
Make sure you eat and sleep, you may not notice but even you need a break.
I fed Gully her dinner but don't forget about her breakfast.
-A'
Heimdall, admittedly spitefully, spat the sprout of his mouth, hearing it splatter somewhere as he left the table and back to where he had left Hofud rest. He was livid , how dare the half breed act like Heimdall couldn't cope without him?
He hated Atreus for caring so much.
He had yanked the stupid pictures off of the wall as soon as he had finished pushing Hofud, leaving them bare and pale, just the way he liked them. The drawings in his hands crumpled with the force and he found himself squeezing until they were nothing but tiny squished orbs. Stupid albeit detailed little sketches of the scenery around Himinbjörg, Gulltoppr and even Heimdall himself were clenched in his fists.
Now, Heimdall was vain enough to have enjoyed the drawings of himself on the walls of his home but it seemed Atreus had a habit of portraying him at his weakest moments. Him petting Gulltoppr while she coated his face in slobber, him getting his teeth as Thrud forced his arm to the table during their drunken arm wrestling match, him smiling softly as he peered over the wall and drunk in the orange and red of the sunset.
Fucking brat.
Himinbjörg was quiet, nothing but the harsh breathing of himself and the gentle rustling of the trees in the wind, silent to others but his perfect hearing could easily pick up. He could now relax, settle inside the house he had made into his own piece of heaven before some little god of chaos had blown through like a hurricane and ruined it.
Heimdall decided to settle on the bench, a mug of mead in his hands and he took a quiet sip of the honeyed alcohol, only to frown. It seemed.. too quiet, a niggling feeling squirming its way into the back of his skull, whispering the house was empty, lonely .
He ignored it.
The whispers were relentless.
He got up, pacing on the spot before slamming his mug down onto the nearby dining table. The mead did nothing to relax him like it should have, only settling in his stomach like a thick weight and he wondered if he would throw up despite being nowhere near inebriated. He tries to ignore and focus on something else, so he wanders Himinbjörg's rooms like a lost child, finally making his way to his bedroom.
It wasn't until he had heard a crunch under his foot and seeing the dried petals of a foxglove Atreus had tried gifting him a few days before his departure did that niggling whisper turn into a snarling demand. The giant had presented him with a handful of the pretty purple flowers, eyes sparkling like light cascading off of rippling water and joyous energy radiating off of him in waves.
"They reminded me of your eyes. I think they'd slot in nicely inside your braids and really make you-"
"Do I look like I want flowers in my hair like some sort of virgin maiden?"
Atreus' eyes had widened before lowering down to the flowers in his hands, absentmindedly stroking a petal with soft affection.
"I don't- I just thought-"
"No, you didn't think, you never do. I do not want your pitiful flowers and I am sick of your pathetic attempts to seduce me."
"I'm not-"
"Enough."
Atreus had murmured an apology, leaving the flowers on the nearby dresser before quickly exiting the house and leaving Heimdall to his brooding. He must have forgotten to throw the things out and they had wilted, dropping their once pert and pretty petals onto Himinbjörg's floors.
Time drags by slowly and he tries to busy himself into his duties, but once days turn into weeks he becomes fidgety. Once those weeks turn into months, he almost rips the door to the study off before he basically begs The All-Father to let him leave Asgard and search for his husband. Odin allows it just as Heimdall knew he would but the knowing twinkle in that eye makes him feel livid.
It had been eleven days and six months. He had waited far too long.
He hated Atreus for making him like this.
"If you don't raise your ass up right this instant, I'm going to gut you."
He must have looked like a fool if anyone was around to see him, hands on his hips and glaring at the massive tortoise's face. A snort and a rush of hot air is all he gets and Heimdall can feel the last ounces of his sanity and restraint slipping through his fingers like the strands of hair being blown out of his braids. He had seen Atreus talk to Gulltoppr, convincing her to do as he wanted with a few simple words so why was this ugly wrinkly thing so damn stubborn?
The tortoise opens an eye and gazes at him with beady pupils.
"I am going to punch you in the fucking eye if you don't-"
"Don't threaten Chaurli."
Heimdall whips around, horrified that the half breed and the vanir witch had managed to sneak up on him from behind. He does his best to not get flustered and instead shoots them a pointed glare, a soft gleaming on both of their necks gaining his attention and his eyes instantly snaps to it. Invisible to the naked eye of most gods and mortals. But Heimdall was not most gods and mortals.
Protection runes. Able to silence their steps and mask their presence as if they were nothing but the gentle breeze in the air.
Clever.
"Why are you here?"
"I need to see Atreus."
" Why ?"
Fuck sake, Freya acted like she was the brat's mother and he idly wonders if Odin would be relieved or annoyed if Heimdall slaughtered her here and now.
"It's okay, Freya. I'll meet you back at the garden."
Atreus speaks softly and warmly and it makes the witch visibly relax. With a soft hand on the giant's shoulder and a hard gaze towards the golden god, she collects the basket of herbs from Atreus' hands and leaves.
The warmth seems to have left with her, Atreus' eyes landing on his own and those blue orbs are as sharp as the icicles that would hang from Himinbjörg's roof during a cold snap.
"What are you doing here?"
"What, I can't check on my husband?"
"Don't. Don't call me that."
Heimdall suddenly feels very cold and very exposed. In truth, he wasn't sure why he had come all, he just felt.. like he needed to find Atreus. It had been close to a year by Asgardian time and he felt the engulfing silence of the house slowly consuming him.
"You need to come home."
His voice is softer than he had expected, almost a whisper and instead of the demanding tone he had tried to lace into his words sounded more like a plea.
Atreus looks confused, suspicious and also worried. The expressions filtered across his pale face and his eyebrows furrowed before hands rested on his hips like a scolding mother.
"Why?"
Why ? Heimdall doesn't even know why .
"..The house is empty without you."
It's a shitty excuse to him traipsing from Asgard to Midgard but he's unable to think of a better reason to drag his husband back. He just wants him back home, back with him .
It seems his stumbling excuse is good enough for the half breed, Atreus' eyes melting the once occupying ice and returning to those warm waves that made the god of foresight feel whole.
"Alright.. let me just say goodbye to Freya and father."
"Whatever, just hurry it u-"
Heimdall's grouching is stopped abruptly when a cold hand grabs his warmer one, slender fingers curling between his own, slotted together perfectly and Heimdall holds that hand back greedily. It's been.. too long since Atreus had been around to comfort the flickering flame of rage in his chest and the drowning doubt in his mind. Still, he frowns at the smaller man in confusion but before he can voice his questions, Atreus beats him to it.
"Well, since you're here.." Atreus basically purrs out as he pulls Heimdall along the overgrown grass. He watches the giant bid a farewell to that bastard tortoise before he's yanked to the left. "You can help us out and meet everyone."
"I already know the witch and that meat he-"
"Properly," Atreus interrupts, bright eyes gazing at Heimdall over his shoulder with so much love and so much happiness that Heimdall almost misses the speckles of rainbow coloured mischief dancing amongst the blue. "They haven't seen you in years."
"Ugh."
He would never admit it, but Heimdall was almost happy to help his husband in his duties. The quicker they were done, the quicker he could take Atreus home with him.
Where he belonged.. Heimdall hated himself for falling so hard.