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“Do you know how to swim?”
It was a quiet morning in Himinbjörg, not very much to do in the way of duties or training. Heimdall lounged in his sitting room, eyes skimming over a rather dull book. Atreus sat at his feet in his male form, working on sewing a piece of fabric draped over the low table. When Atreus suddenly broke the peaceful silence, Heimdall glanced down at him, a brow curving curiously.
“It is an essential survival skill, so yes. Obviously.” Heimdall answered. “Is that a leading question or just more of your insatiable curiosity?”
“Can you teach me?” Atreus asked with a hopeful smile.
“You… You must be joking.”
Atreus shrugged, setting his needle aside.
“ How exactly, do you not know how to swim?” Heimdall questioned, setting his book aside.
“Not everyone does, you know.”
“Yes, quite literally, everyone does. Even children.”
“Well when I was a child, I was too sick to swim.” Atreus countered. There was a pause, Heimdall waiting for him to elaborate. “By the time I was healthy enough, I was too busy trying to spread my mother’s ashes. And right after that, all of the water in Midgard froze over.”
Loki’s incredibly sheltered existence was truly pitiable. It’s a wonder how he survived even a second on his own, seeing as he had an overbearing oaf and cowardly giant following his every move since birth. But the brat’s naiveté and lack of experience always had a way of awakening Heimdall’s protective instincts.
He sighed. “Well. Drowning would be a rather pathetic way for you to go, so fine. Come.”
…
Atreus grinned as he and Heimdall approached a wide, clear river near the outside of the wall. He was glad he was able to convince someone to finally teach him to swim. He didn’t know how much time he would have to enjoy lands that weren’t entirely frozen, but he knew it was not infinite.
“Well? Take off your clothes.” Heimdall ordered impatiently.
Atreus blushed as he obeyed him. After all the things he and Heimdall had done together this should be nothing, but the god’s commanding nature still had a way of drawing a reaction out of him. He stood nude in front of Heimdall, save for his smallclothes.
“You’re coming in too, aren’t you?” Atreus asked, staring at Heimdall’s clothed body expectantly.
Heimdall raised a questioning eyebrow.
“You’re supposed to be teaching me. That involves making sure I don’t drown, doesn’t it?”
“Are you really that poor of a swimmer? Truly, how have you survived this long?”
He always had his father to save him, Atreus though. But there was no way he would voice that. He simply sat down at the end of the riverbank and stared over his shoulder at Heimdall with a coy look.
With a roll of his eyes Heimdall began to undress as well. Atreus watched avidly, admiring the lean muscles of the older god’s body.
“What, enjoying the show?” Heimdall gave Atreus a smug look. “Get into the water, it’s not deep here.”
Atreus complied and waded into the clear blue of the river. Heimdall was correct, the water only went halfway up his chest. He was accustomed to this, bathing in the shallow waters of Midgard with father and mother when he was young. When he was very ill he would just be bathed at home, but the times when he was feeling better, he was able to go to the small rivers and lakes near the cabin. There was even a natural hot spring a short ways away from their home. When the weather was nice and mother and father ensured the water in it wasn’t too hot, they all went together. Mother said the minerals would be good for his health. Father remained unconvinced, but stayed and played with him all the same. He wondered idly if Asgard had any hot springs…
“Pay attention, sunshine. We don’t have all day.” When Atreus refocused, he noticed Heimdall already standing beside him in the river. “Firstly, you need to learn to float.”
“Okay.” Atreus agreed enthusiastically. “Uh… how?”
“It’s simple. Keep your face above water, lie back and spread your arms and legs.”
“... That’s it? How is that supposed to make me float?”
“Just trust me.” Heimdall scoffed. “Come then. I’ll hold you.”
Atreus waded closer into Heimdall’s open arms. He set his hands gently on the boy’s back.
“Now relax and lie back. I’ve got you. You won’t sink.”
With a deep breath Atreus complied, slowly spreading his arms and lifting his legs. Just lying still and surrendering control of his body to the still water, it was frightening. It reminded him of a corpse floating to the surface of a lake. He shut his eyes and held his breath in anticipation of his head dipping underwater, but after a few nerve-wracking moments found his face completely dry.
He also found Heimdall’s hands were no longer cradling his back.
Heimdall read the realization in the boy’s open eyes and quickly spoke. “Don’t panic. Just remain still. You’re already floating.”
Atreus’ breathing was a bit heavy, but by focusing on the low, calming tone of Heimdall’s voice he was able to refrain from thrashing around in a panic.
“See? Was that so difficult? You hardly needed my help at all.” Heimdall smirked. “Just wanted my hands on you, hm?”
Somehow, Heimdall’s teasing made Atreus feel calm enough to speak. “You wish.”
“A wish that’s already been granted. Many, many, many times.”
“Well, not again if you don’t teach me.” Atreus carefully lowered his feet back to the river’s floor. “C’mon, what next?”
“Eager, are we? You were scared just a moment ago.”
Heimdall continued nonetheless, walking Atreus through different strokes and paddling methods. His arm movements were a bit haphazard at first, but Heimdall instructed him to keep all his movements deliberate and purposeful.
“When water is still, you have control over it. Do not allow it to take control over you.”
“Right. And when it’s not still?” Atreus asked.
“Avoid it. But if you cannot, don’t fight against the current. Let that serve you as well.”
Heimdall told him as he took hold of Atreus’ hand. He began to walk slowly with him down the river into deeper water.
As the waterline began to creep up to Atreus’ neck, he stilled. Though this was his idea, he suddenly felt apprehensive. “Okay, I think this is deep enough.”
“It isn’t. You need to learn how to tread water. Most rivers and lakes run deeper than your meager height.”
Atreus glared. A wave of water lapped at his chin. He began to remember all the times he nearly drowned. Being pushed downriver with no control over his body when he first landed in Asgard, his head constantly dipping below the surface, restricting his vision and breathing. Being sucked in by the relentless current in the Lake of Souls.
“Heimdall–”
Before Atreus could protest more, Heimdall took him by the armpits and lifted him up into his arms. Embarrassingly, Atreus was quick to wrap his legs around Heimdall’s waist.
“Better?” Heimdall asked.
“Not really.”
Heimdall waded deeper in the water, stopping where he believed the river floor would just be out of reach of Loki’s toes. “I’m going to let go of you in a minute. Slowly.”
Loki still looked worried as he stared down at the river. He thought the clear, glittering water was so beautiful when he and Heimdall first walked to it. He didn’t know how it could scare him so much now.
“You’re just going to stay afloat in one place. Moving your arms and legs around is all you have to do.” Heimdall sighed. “I know it can be… frightening. But once you learn this, you’ll never be afraid again.”
Atreus took a deep breath and nodded.
Carefully, the boy untangled his limbs from him while Heimdall allowed him to naturally drift out of his hold. He watched as Loki still screwed his eyes shut and held his breath.
However, the movement of his arms and legs was controlled. His head stayed above water, and he was able to tread continuously.
After a few moments of watching, Heimdall smiled satisfactorily. “There you are. You’ve got it.” He said. “Now all you have to do is kick your legs a bit, and push forward with your arms like I showed you.”
Steeling his expression, Atreus followed Heimdall’s instructions. With wide, slow strokes he pushed himself forward through the river.
Heimdall smiled as he watched Atreus swimming on his own. Slow and clumsy as it was, it was all he really needed to know to keep from being completely helpless in water. “And here you were, whining and clinging to me like an infant.”
“Shut up!” Atreus spared an admonishment for Heimdall while keeping his focus on swimming forward.
“Swimming and being belligerent? All at the same time? Wow, you really are a pro now.” Heimdall replied, walking along the river floor to keep up with Atreus.
After a good 2 minutes, Atreus began to pant a bit. “My arms and legs are getting tired. What do I do?”
“Just start treading again. Or float.” Quickly, Heimdall caught up with Atreus to attend to him. “Hang onto me.” He said.
Atreus swam back into Heimdall’s hold, wrapping his arms around his bare, wet shoulders. Heimdall was quick to lift him back into his arms, Atreus wrapping his tired legs around his waist while Heimdall walked them back into more shallow waters.
He set Atreus down on the riverbank before climbing back onto it himself. With a sigh, Atreus collapsed against the grass to rest his limbs. Heimdall had hardly exerted himself but he laid back beside Atreus, staring up at the clouds as he slowly drifted across the bright blue sky.
“I did it…” Atreus panted, voice filled with wonder.
“Yes, you did.” Heimdall responded. “Congratulations.”
Heimdall allowed a few peaceful moments of silence to pass before he spoke up again. “All that time on a boat and your father really never taught you to swim? What if it had capsized?”
“We didn’t exactly have a ton of time for preparations once Baldur came, destroyed our home, and tried to kill my father.”
Heimdall didn’t have an answer for that.
They laid still together against the cool grass. Atreus felt like he had forgotten what grass felt like, all of it being covered entirely by snow and ice for the last few years. It made him wonder. If he staved off Ragnarok, would Fimbulwinter ever end? It had to eventually, right?
More problems that he had to find solutions for. It was all so overwhelming at times.
He tried to center himself in the present. He was the one that told Heimdall they should enjoy what’s happening now for however long they had it. He turned his head to stare at the man beside him, watching as the shining afternoon sun gleamed off of the droplets of water sliding down Heimdall’s muscled skin.
Heimdall obviously wanted to prevent Ragnarok. But what else did he want? What were his goals? What was most important to him? Did he just want whatever the All-Father wanted?
“Can I ask you something?” Atreus suddenly piped up.
Heimdall hummed to indicate he was listening.
“What made you so loyal to Odin?” Atreus asked. “I mean, I get that he’s your father and you love him and all–”
“What?” Heimdall’s brow furrowed as he turned his head to meet Atreus’ eyes.
“What did I say wrong?”
Heimdall blinked hard. “... You think I remain loyal to Odin out of some sense of… what? Misplaced fatherly love?” His tone made him sound genuinely amused.
“What else could make you so loyal?” Atreus wondered what could make someone so dedicated to someone else’s protection other than love. He wanted to protect his father so badly because he loved him. Not because of his strength or what he provided for him. “People protect their family because they love them, don’t they? Like me with my father–”
“I have no paternal feelings towards the All-Father. I love him as much as all subjects should love their king. But do I love him in any familial capacity? No. Nor does he love me.”
Atreus was astounded at the nonchalant manner in which Heimdall spoke. Like he was completely unconcerned with the fact that his own father didn’t love him.
Noticing Atreus’ disbelief, Heimdall sighed. “Did we not discuss this before? Odin is father to all creatures in the realms. The fact that he happened to sire me personally makes no real difference. Blood is worth less than shit in Asgard.”
They really were a tender-hearted bunch, these Aesir. “If you don’t love him like a father, why are you so dedicated to protecting him?” Atreus asked. “You’re more dedicated and loyal than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“I am loyal to All-Father because he is the only man with the vision to lead Asgard. He’s essential to the survival and prosperity of our realm.”
Atreus still seemed confused. Heimdall continued.
“Our relationship is symbiotic, not sentimental. The All-Father needs me because I am the only one with the abilities and skills to guard our people. And I need the All-Father, as we all do, because he is the only man capable of leading Asgard and the other realms. We are both the only people that can fulfill these roles, and thus we are both dependent on one another for the longevity of our race.”
“Okay…but why do you think Odin is the only one capable of leading the nine realms? What makes him such an amazing leader?” Atreus didn’t think anybody could be considered a good leader if their ‘leadership’ caused so much war and bloodshed.
“Unlike other leaders, he is not willing to put his people at risk just for the sake of sparing his own conscience. All-Father is the only one strong enough to make the difficult but necessary decisions that ensure peace and safety for us all. He is the only one that possesses the intelligence, wisdom, fortitude, and selflessness to keep order in the nine realms.”
“The only one? What about you?”
“Me?” Heimdall questioned, puzzled.
“You clearly care about Asgard a lot. You’re strong, and smart. When you remember to think.”
Heimdall rolled his eyes at Atreus. “I do not have the patience for corralling and appeasing the masses. All-Father does.”
“Well, why does Asgard have to be led by only one person?” Atreus asked. “Different people have different strengths. If a couple of different people came together–”
“So the realm can dissolve into petty quarreling and infighting?” Heimdall scoffed at the suggestion. “We are lucky to have a ruler like the All-Father. It would do us well not to take him for granted.”
Atreus obviously had more to say on that, but opted to bite his tongue. It was a nice day out. The air was warm, and he liked the calming feeling of the sun on his skin after years of bleak, cloud covered skies.
Laying upon the grassy river bank, he tried to let his worries dissipate like the water drying on his skin.
…
Asgard continued to be blessed with warm, pleasant weather that week. A sunny afternoon was beginning to blend into evening. With patrols finished early, Heimdall spent an afternoon in the training arena cutting down Einherjar, and now with a lack of opponents he practiced with a straw dummy.
Atreus sat on a bench nearby, watching Heimdall with interest. The sun was low in the sky, painting the horizon in violet and orange. A warm glow made the sweat on Heimdall’s bare chest shine.
Atreus watched as he went through different training drills with his sword. Every movement seemed to come naturally to him, as if by instinct.
“You're really good at that.” Atreus complimented.
“Of course I am. I’ve only been training with a sword since…” Heimdall paused in his attacks against the straw dummy, dropping his stance. He was glancing up, as if he needed a moment to search his mind. “Since I was around your age, I believe.”
“Woah. That must’ve been an eternity ago.”
Heimdall rolled his eyes.
“Did someone teach you?” Atreus asked. He doubted it was Odin, perhaps he just hired someone…
Heimdall took a while to answer, looking up at the sky once again as he seemed to reminisce. “Yes.” He answered absentmindedly. “My brother. Vali.”
“Vali? That’s the–” The dead one. Atreus cut himself off. He didn’t know if Heimdall held the same disdain for his late brothers as the living ones, but he would try not to upset him just in case.
“The one killed by the Vanir, yes.” Heimdall finished Atreus’ sentence for him. Judging by his expression alone, he didn’t seem too terribly affected. He returned to striking the training dummy.
“I haven’t heard very much about him.” Atreus admitted. Throughout all his time in Asgard, he’d only heard the name once or twice in passing.
“I don’t suppose you would’ve. He was never one to seek fame or glory.”
“He was a swordsman?”
“Yes. The best in all the realms, once.”
“That must’ve been a huge privilege then, being taught by the best swordsman in all the realms.” Atreus wanted to know more, but he couldn’t help but feel he should tread carefully through this conversation if he didn’t want Heimdall to shut him out. He had improved enough at reading him to know his youth wasn’t something he enjoyed discussing. Not that he would ever admit that. “Was he a great teacher too?”
Heimdall stalled once more. Nobody had ever asked him questions like this, his opinions on his family members. Being forced to consider things he hadn’t even thought about in many years was… disorienting. “Yes. He was an excellent teacher.”
“Woah. Excellent. That’s a high compliment, coming from you.” Loki grinned, looking expectant. Likely wanting Heimdall to elaborate. “How so?”
“... Vali hadn’t participated in my training as a child. Instead, he taught me everything I now know about the sword. As well as many other things.”
“Such as?”
Heimdall took a long pause, holding Hofuð down by his side idly. “He taught me my code of ethics. Taught me the concepts of chivalry, honor, and pride. Taught me how to behave with dignity.” Being beaten relentlessly for most of his childhood didn’t exactly give Heimdall a great deal of confidence going into his adolescent years. Vali’s teachings had changed that. He told him that being respected was essential to any Aesir god, and he would never gain that if others didn’t believe he respected himself. “Because of him, I hold my head high as I go through the world.”
Atreus supposed Heimdall might’ve taken those lessons on pride a bit too far.
“Oh, so we have him to thank for your arrogance?” Atreus laughed. “It seems like he helped you a lot. I thought you said you hated all of your brothers?”
“The living ones, yes.” Heimdall assured Atreus. “As far as my brothers go, he was the only one that was ever worth a damn. The only one with a sense of responsibility and purpose.”
Heimdall made his brother sound like a great guy. Then again, he made Odin sound like a great guy constantly. Atreus supposed he had to take his words with a grain of salt. “You said he fought against the Vanir?”
Heimdall nodded. “He was a general in the All-Father’s army. Won the Aesir many battles during the war.”
“So… what ended up happening to him? Was he slain in the war?”
“No. Some time afterward.” Heimdall elaborated. “The custom is that if a treaty is signed by two warring armies, a hostage is taken by both sides to ensure they will both keep up their part of the agreement. If the treaty is breached, the enemy will kill their hostage.”
Atreus believed he could see where this was headed.
“The Vanir considered Frigg to be Asgard’s hostage, so they demanded someone in return. And Vali was forced to leave Asgard.”
Gods. Heimdall only ever liked one of his brothers and he lost him just like that. And relatively young. “Oh. Heimdall, I’m sorry. That must’ve been… so heartbreaking.”
Heimdall cleared his throat and lifted his sword once more.
“Luckily I had already finished my education by then.”
He returned to his unaffected demeanor.
“So… Odin breached the agreement. Decimated Vanaheim and so they killed Vali–”
“No.” Heimdall stopped Atreus.
“No?”
“Freyr, still bitter over his sister choosing to willingly abandon their people, could not accept the treaty. He and his forces attacked Vali. Vali fought well, but he was only one man in a pit of snakes. For breaking the treaty, the All-Father decimated Vanaheim.”
As difficult as it was to believe that Asgard, for the first time ever, hadn’t struck first, he recalled his mother saying that over the long centuries that the war dragged on, many had lost their compassion.
“We once believed that when tensions calmed and the Vanir saw that Frigg was being treated like a queen, not a prisoner, they would agree to let Vali go. Obviously, that didn’t happen.”
“Heimdall… I’m so sorry.”
“I told you, the Vanir paid–”
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t still be sad about it.” Atreus interrupted. “He was your brother. He helped you grow into a man. Obviously he was really important to you. You aren’t weak to mourn him. Don’t force yourself to forget how much he meant to you just so you don’t have to feel the pain.”
For once, it felt like Atreus had Heimdall at a loss for words.
“You should let yourself feel that. Let yourself grieve him. That way, you can value the times you had together more.” Atreus insisted.
This may have very well been the only emotional connection Heimdall ever had outside of Odin. Atreus would help him rediscover that. What it was like to care for someone for who they were as a person, rather than the purpose they served.
Heimdall turned his head away from Atreus. His expression was hidden, but the boy could see his jaw clenched.
“Um… Odin must’ve cared about him too. If he was willing to decimate an entire realm over his death.” Atreus attempted to shift topics a bit.
“Vali’s death had little to do with it. It’s more about appearances. No one can be allowed to harm an Aesir god without paying dearly for it. Lest the other realms start to view us as weak.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Atreus replied. “Still, trying to destroy an entire realm over pride seems a bit much–”
“That is because you know nothing of statecraft.”
Atreus frowned. “If ‘statecraft’ means killing tons of innocent people–”
“Tell me, what seems wiser to you? Simply wounding an enemy so that they may recover and come back more bloodthirsty for revenge? Or eliminating them entirely?”
Atreus’ mouth snapped shut, his brow furrowing in confusion. He listened more to what Heimdall had to say.
“War with the Vanir would have never ended. Thousands of Aesir would have to take up arms to fight them and die in the process. By decimating Vanaheim, the All-Father saved scores of our people. If he hadn’t, to this day Aesir lives would still be wasted fighting and dying in that accursed realm.
“And indirectly, he’s saved Vanir lives as well. All the men and women being born and dying for the war over the span of centuries would far outnumber the amount that were killed during the decimation.”
Atreus' gaze lowered. It was confusing. What Heimdall was saying was… true on a purely technical level. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t cruel and immoral.
Then again, didn’t he originally have that rationality? That the lives lost if Asgard were destroyed would be far outnumbered by the lives that would be saved once Odin was no longer there to murder and subjugate beings across the realms?
This was also technically true. In the end even if every soul in Asgard died, killing Odin would save generations from dying at his hands. And he used to believe that the Aesir had it coming, if they were willing to support Odin’s tyranny. But now that Atreus was here, had seen these people firsthand, had to look them in the eyes… he knew it was cruel. But by Heimdall’s logic, was not killing Odin because of his own morals cruel to everyone else in the nine realms that suffered under him?
“When you are a leader, sometimes cruelty is necessary. It’s as I told you before. The cost of the All-Father’ conscience is a small price to pay for the lives of his people.” Heimdall reiterated.
“Thank you, I guess. For… sharing all of that with me.” Atreus bit his lip. “Let’s… let’s talk about something else.” He hopped up from the bench, attempting to put on a smile despite his uncertainty. “Wanna see some of the new magic I’ve been practicing?”
“If it’s the one that gives you tits, I’d like to find a more private area for that.”
Atreus shot Heimdall an unimpressed look. “ Brenna .” He chanted, and with a swift wave of his hand the straw dummy near Heimdall suddenly burst into flames.
“Well, congratulations. You learned how to waste a perfectly good training doll.”
…
“It’s annoying.” said Atreus.
He and Thrud sat together in the Great Lodge, sharing lunch in the dining hall.
The girl turned her head to him curiously. “What is?” She asked around a small mouthful of bread.
“Heimdall keeps getting all pissy because people can see my nipples.”
Thrud turned her gaze away and stared off into the distance, a long suffering frown upon her face.
“It’s not my fault! I can’t just make nipples disappear!” Atreus continued to complain. “Everybody has them, what’s the big deal if people can see mine?”
“Why don’t you just… I don’t know.” Thrud sighed. “Wear dresses that aren’t so tight?”
Atreus pouted. “No. I like them.” He argued. “What do you do to make sure your nipples don’t show?”
“I wear armor!”
“When you aren’t wearing armor, I mean.”
As if a prayer had been answered to save Thrud from this conversation, Sif entered the dining hall.
“Mom! Mom, c’mere!” She exclaimed, beckoning the woman over. “Loki needs your help with something.”
Sif’s face looked like she would rather eat a rock, but strangely she had no rude remarks for Atreus as she approached the table.
“He’s getting used to his new tits–”
“Thrud–!” Atreus exclaimed.
“ –How do you make sure your nipples don’t poke through your dress?” Thrud asked her mother.
Atreus was embarrassed to be discussing this with Sif, but he supposed she would know better than most people. Sif had a very large bust, not the largest he’d seen since arriving in Asgard (a robust bar maid took that prize) but it was very close. And she actually wore form-fitting dresses, so she must have some insight.
Sif leveled her gaze at Atreus for a few moments, her expression indiscernible. “Hm. Your breasts are too small for a brassiere.” She stated. “Sew a panel on the inside of your dresses and attach two thick scraps of cloth into that.”
“Oh.” Atreus’ eyebrows raised. He was a bit shocked that she was actually willing to share. “Thank you. Actually. That’s really helpful–”
Before Atreus could finish, Sif was already exiting the hall.
The two teens watched her back as she went. “Well. That was… progress, I suppose?” Thrud shrugged with a smile.
“... Yeah.” Atreus agreed.
…
“Why do you care so much about protecting Asgard if you hate all the people in it?”
“Because it is my duty.”
“But you said you love this realm. How can you love it if you hate everything about it?”
“I do not hate everything about it.”
“You haven’t told me one thing you particularly like. Other than mead and nice clothes.” Atreus' voice lowered into a murmur. “Which you could find other places…”
“... Come. I’ll show you then.”
…
Heimdall and Atreus sat beside one another at the edge of the wall. It was quite a hike, walking to the south end of the wall. Opposite of the dilapidated Tyr’s Temple and New Midgard, sat what almost seemed like a void. Atreus knew that wasn’t possible, but from up here everything beyond was so shrouded in fog that he could hardly make anything out. At least the rest of Asgard could still be seen behind him.
“So… what am I–”
“Stop. Remain silent, and feel it.” Heimdall told him.
Atreus quieted himself, though he still didn’t know exactly what he was supposed to be feeling. After a few minutes, he looked to Heimdall. He looked more relaxed than Atreus’ had ever seen him, his eyes gently closed and breathing even.
“Do you hear that?”
“... No?”
Heimdall released a deep breath. “Silence.”
Atreus tilted his head curiously. Heimdall wanted him to listen to silence? Why? Was that even possible?
“Up here, away from everyone and everything, there is quiet. True quiet. No noise pollution at all.”
Heimdall was right. The only sound Atreus heard was a sharp gust of wind brushing against their ears. “Feel it. The wind on your face. Only blows in one direction from here. No scattering your hair every which way.”
Now that Heimdall mentioned it, the movement of the wind was surprisingly calm for an elevation so high. Atreus continued to stare. He suddenly wondered if that was why Heimdall kept his hair braided most times. He hated feeling it on his face? Was it like with his beard, another sensation he didn’t like?
“Breathe.” Heimdall’s voice cut through the silence once more. Atreus wanted to say he already was breathing, but instead he mimicked the movements of Heimdall’s chest and inhaled deeply. “The air, it’s crisp and clear. Cleaner than anywhere else in the nine realms. No real scents, no debris to be found.”
“When I felt… overwhelmed.” Heimdall spoke softly. “All the noises too loud, the scents too strong, even the slightest touch like snakes crawling up my skin. This was how I learned to isolate my senses. It gave me… clarity. In a world so crowded.”
Atreus realized he hadn’t spoken for quite a while, but he didn’t want to disturb this peace. He was glad Heimdall was willing to share this with him.
“This serenity. This is the culmination of it all. All the war and chaos. This is what I fight to protect. You may think us cruel if you wish, but it is because of the Aesir that we all enjoy this era of long peace.” Heimdall explained. His eyes remained closed. “If Asgard is gone, what else is there? Smog from Svartalfeim mines? Vanaheim air so thick it clogs your throat? The chanting savages of Midgard?”
“There’s good to be found in almost every realm.” Atreus protested.
Heimdall merely snorted.
“But I can see what you mean. It is nice up here.” Atreus admitted, a small smile upon his lips. He copied Heimdall, facing forward and closing his eyes. “With how antisocial you are, I just figured you’d prefer the realms with no people.”
“... People have their purpose.” Heimdall responded. He peeked an eye open to look at the boy sat next to him. His gaze traced over the curves of his gentle profile. “A few of them are… alright. In small doses.”
His sense of touch was suddenly being intruded upon. Along with the wind on his face, he now felt the pressure of Loki’s small body pressing to his side. Usually anyone touching him while he was trying to deprive his senses would be an irritation. Yet this, he did not mind.
Heimdall still failed to understand it. Why he kept making exceptions for the brat. Whatever Loki did, it seemed he didn’t mind it. And if he did mind, he quickly forgave. Nowadays, the things that truly bothered him most about Loki was when he put himself in danger.
Loki must have felt Heimdall’s eyes on him, as his suddenly fluttered open to glance up at the older god.
Heimdall stared into Loki’s eyes. Read his present thoughts. It was… hazy. Unclear. More feelings and sensations than images. The only real thing he could pull from it was…
… Love?
Loki loved him?
Heimdall’s eyes widened.
Why? And how? Was that even possible?
Did Loki even understand what love was?
… Then again, did Heimdall? He’d never felt it before. Strangely enough, that may be one thing the brat had more experience with than him.
Too many thoughts were now racing through Heimdall’s head. What was the meaning of love in actuality? It was a flimsy concept. If he were to ask 100 people, he was sure to receive 100 different answers. It was just subjective then? No way to quantify it or measure it?
It was something felt. If you felt love, you must be in love.
But if love felt different for everyone, how was Heimdall supposed to know what love felt like to him? Especially if he had never felt it before?
… Heimdall supposed he had felt love before. As he just explained to Loki, he loved Asgard.
Why did he love Asgard?
He loved Asgard for all of its positive qualities. And he could recognize its negative qualities, yet they did not make him love it any less.
Heimdall tried applying this logic to Loki.
Loki was clever. Fearless, thoughtful, creative, forgiving. He admired all these things and more about Loki, and even found some of Loki’s negative qualities endearing.
Was he truly that far gone?
Loki was prideful, but Heimdall liked that he didn’t let people walk all over him. That fire within him, it was enchanting. Loki was argumentative, but Heimdall liked that he wasn’t shy about speaking his mind.
He talked far too much, but Heimdall liked that he didn’t have to focus on carrying their conversations. It made speaking to him easy. Perhaps easier than anyone he’d ever met. Loki was naive, but that gave him a youthful jubilance.
Heimdall would think more on this another time. Perhaps his views on love would change. Yet in the present moment, Heimdall couldn’t imagine… not feeling this way towards Loki. Even in thousands of years. Even if he did something horrible.
More exceptions for the runt. Perhaps this really was love then.
Heimdall tried to tear his eyes away from Loki’s, but found he could not. The bifrost was well within their view from up here, and yet he was far more captivated by the iridescence in Loki’s eyes.
For his entire life, Heimdall believed the bifrost was the most beautiful thing in Asgard. He now knew that he was wrong.