A heart full of mess and love (Thor, Loki/Heimdall)
Title: A heart full of mess and love
Fandom: Thor
Pairing: Loki/Heimdall
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Summary: When he was younger Loki would come to Heimdall but as he grew older Loki stayed away but Heimdall never stopped watching him.
A/N:Written for Rare Pair Fest 2012 for Jain.
Heimdall sees. He guards Asgard and watches over its inhabitants, all of them from peasant to prince. Only he watches one prince more than the other, tall and lanky with black hair and blue eyes, slow to smile, easy to hurt. Partly he watches him more because he can see Loki for who he truly is: blue skin and red eyes with ice and winter and snow in his blood and bones.
But he also sees everything else: the little boy with the cheerful smile and the cunning eyes, the desperate wish to prove worthy of his father and mother and brother, the bottomless love Loki holds for them, the insatiable curiosity and thirst for knowledge that drive him, make him listen to his father’s stories and his mother’s songs, to go exploring with his brother and sometimes brings him to the Bifröst where he points at worlds and asks Heimdall what he sees there.
“Heimdall?” He sounds miserable and even though Heimdall’s instincts tell him to shun the child that is a born enemy of Asgard, he focuses on the boy he sees beneath the skin.
“Loki,” He acknowledges his presence and Loki shuffles a bit closer.
“In Vanaheim…magic is not something that is only for girls, is it?”
“No, magic chooses you, not the other way around.”
“Tyr said what I can do makes me a girl.” Giants have no gender. Loki is only a boy because Odin chose to disguise him as one.
“Is Sif a boy for preferring swords over needlework? Is your mother, the Queen, a bard because she sings?” Loki gives him a small smile for that. “no.”
“Then you’re not a girl.” He feels Loki’s arms around his waist and looks down where Loki is hugging him. “Thank you.”
He turns to go but then turns back and asks: “Can you tell me about Vanaheim?” And Heimdall does, speaks of green meadows and colourful flowers, of hills and the sun and small ponds that look like mirrors.
And Loki sits to his feet and asks new questions each time he’s teased or belittled or frustrated because the world refuses to see him as he is.
People rarely ask what Heimdall sees but Loki does. He points at stars and asks what Heimdall sees there and Heimdall tells him about Siegfired the slayer of Fafnir being murdered by Hagen on Midgard or about the song the phoenixes sing in Surta’s Garden on Muspell.
“I want to be like you”, Loki says once, his feet dangling over the edge of the Bifröst.
“Why do you say that?”
“You’re unique”, Loki gives him a sunny smile. “Everyone fears you.”
“Would you rather be feared than be loved?”
Loki shrugs, smile gone so fast one could doubt it was ever there.
“You need to be seen to be loved. They only see Thor.”
“I see you.” Heimdall tells him and the smile returns to Loki’s face even if it is smaller than before. He leans back until he lies on his back and looks up at the stars above. In the colourful lights from the Bifröst mixing with Loki’s own magic he looks like a normal child even to Heimdall’s eyes.
“How are stars born?”
“I cannot tell you.”
Loki sits up, frowning at his words. “Why?”
“Because I can only show you”, he sits down next to Loki and lays a hand over his eyes.
“Like this”, he projects what he sees against the darkness, a spark hovering in space, splitting in two which are splitting themselves and again and again and again until they’re bathed in sparks, dancing and glittering in the darkness until they begin to gravitate towards each other, forming a swirl that goes faster and faster until it becomes a ball of light.
Loki looks at it with wide eyes, reaching out to touch it but of course there’s nothing there. He’s still a bit breathless when the image fades.
“I want to be like you”, he repeats quietly and leans against Heimdall’s shoulder. “I want to see everything.”
To Heimdall he feels cool even through the glamour.
“No, you don’t”, Heimdall thinks.
Loki grows, still small for an Ice giant, but tall for Asgard, taking after his brother. He’s lithe and quick and beautiful with wits and charisma and has proven himself on the battlefield.
There are many people flocking around Loki, looking for his company for a night or a week or a year. Loki is beautiful, tall and graceful, he’s entertaining and popular and he loves too much, too readily. Heimdall sees them all: the blonde Vanir girl from Loki’s magic class, the Elven prince with so much discontent for any race that isn’t his, the guard with the deep brown eyes and the steady hands on his bow, Svaldifari playing games to win a bet and never looking back, the dwarven princess with lips as sweet and deadly as poison, Angrboda turning her puppy eyes to everyone around and making it seem as if it was Loki’s fault, another guard with strong arms and a beautiful smile that doesn’t take much to turn into a sneer. Thor, Thor and Thor again like an addiction Loki cannot fight.
They all take a piece of Loki’s heart and then lose it somewhere, like a flower trampled on the street.
Then there’s Baldr.
Baldr is nice, he’s decent, he stays with Loki long after the other’s have left. He goes out of his way to make Loki smile and gets him out of trouble if necessary. He shows Loki the most beautiful places, fights at his side in battle and shows honourable intentions in everything he does.
But Heimdall sees and he sees the sneers that mar Baldr’s face when Loki’s back is turned, sees the haughty arrogance and disdain and contempt Baldr has for Loki and how easily Loki let him into his life. Part of him wants to warn Loki but the prince never comes to him anymore like he did as a child.
When Loki agrees to marry him, Baldr has won the bet and breaks the charade. Heimdall is tempted to look away, watch the stars and the voids between them instead of watching every word Baldr speaks cutting into Loki like knives. He loves too easily and too deeply. It makes Heimdall angry for the first time since he took his duties as guardian. He turns away. It isn’t his place to interfere with what happens on the inside of Asgard’s borders.
He doesn’t need to see Loki to know he’s coming. The lightness of his steps, the stride of his legs, they’re still familiar.
“What can I do for you?” He asks without turning around.
“Don’t play with me. You must have seen it!” Loki rails, “I know you’re watching me! Why didn’t you say anything? Do you like to see me suffer, is it that?”
“What makes you think I’m watching you?”
“Your eyes burn like fire on my back. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Loki snaps. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Would you have believed me?”
“I…”, Loki hesitates for a moment but in the end anger wins out. “You could have tried. Instead you let me run into my own disaster and watched me suffer. Every. Single. Time. Even if I hadn’t believed you, there’s my father, my mother, Thor. Even Balder himself. He fears you as much as everyone else does. But no, you just wanted to see me in pain.”
“When you were a boy you came here and looked at the stars as if they were telling you all the secrets in the world. Why would I want to see you hurt?”
“Because I’m not that boy anymore!” Loki screams at him. Suddenly Heimdall grabs him and spins him around so that they both facing the emptiness beyond the Bifröst.
“What is the name of that star?”
“Sunna.”
“Who killed the Midgaridan dragon-slayer Siegfried?”
“Hagen.”
“What did Nödr say when he surrendered Vanaheim to Asgard?”
“One day corn will be the only weapon we need.”
Heimdall releases him.
“Damn you”, Loki curses, stepping away from him.
“You are still you beneath the layers you painted on yourself to attract creatures beneath your worth.”
“My worth?! I am the shadow to Thor’s sun, that’s the only worth I ever had”, Loki yells. Heimdall sees him, cold and glorious and burning in a way that Frost Giants don’t do.
“Why do you always try to be like your brother?” Heimdall asks him.
“Thor stands for all that is Asgard”, and there is something soft in his voice. Heimdall knows that Loki loves Thor and that his love is slowly killing him. He remembers a conversation a long time ago when Loki told him that he wanted to be like him. He wants to be everyone but himself. Perhaps it is his subconsciousness telling him that the face he sees is a lie or maybe Odin, in all his wisdom as a king, is only Asgardian when it comes to raising his children. If Heimdall ever learned anything it was that everyone made mistakes.
“Do you think that because you can see everything you are the judge of my worth?” Loki hissed. “I’m a Prince of Asgard.”
“You are worth more than your title.”
The corners of Loki’s mouth raised derisively. “Show me then. If you can show me the birth of a star then you can surely show me my worth, Keeper.” He spat the last word at him like an insult.
Heimdall kissed him, kissed him like he was special, like he wanted him, like he had seen through all of Loki’s webs and shrouds and hazes, like he mattered.
“This is your worth, Loki Odinsson.”
Fandom: Thor
Pairing: Loki/Heimdall
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Summary: When he was younger Loki would come to Heimdall but as he grew older Loki stayed away but Heimdall never stopped watching him.
A/N:Written for Rare Pair Fest 2012 for Jain.
Heimdall sees. He guards Asgard and watches over its inhabitants, all of them from peasant to prince. Only he watches one prince more than the other, tall and lanky with black hair and blue eyes, slow to smile, easy to hurt. Partly he watches him more because he can see Loki for who he truly is: blue skin and red eyes with ice and winter and snow in his blood and bones.
But he also sees everything else: the little boy with the cheerful smile and the cunning eyes, the desperate wish to prove worthy of his father and mother and brother, the bottomless love Loki holds for them, the insatiable curiosity and thirst for knowledge that drive him, make him listen to his father’s stories and his mother’s songs, to go exploring with his brother and sometimes brings him to the Bifröst where he points at worlds and asks Heimdall what he sees there.
“Heimdall?” He sounds miserable and even though Heimdall’s instincts tell him to shun the child that is a born enemy of Asgard, he focuses on the boy he sees beneath the skin.
“Loki,” He acknowledges his presence and Loki shuffles a bit closer.
“In Vanaheim…magic is not something that is only for girls, is it?”
“No, magic chooses you, not the other way around.”
“Tyr said what I can do makes me a girl.” Giants have no gender. Loki is only a boy because Odin chose to disguise him as one.
“Is Sif a boy for preferring swords over needlework? Is your mother, the Queen, a bard because she sings?” Loki gives him a small smile for that. “no.”
“Then you’re not a girl.” He feels Loki’s arms around his waist and looks down where Loki is hugging him. “Thank you.”
He turns to go but then turns back and asks: “Can you tell me about Vanaheim?” And Heimdall does, speaks of green meadows and colourful flowers, of hills and the sun and small ponds that look like mirrors.
And Loki sits to his feet and asks new questions each time he’s teased or belittled or frustrated because the world refuses to see him as he is.
People rarely ask what Heimdall sees but Loki does. He points at stars and asks what Heimdall sees there and Heimdall tells him about Siegfired the slayer of Fafnir being murdered by Hagen on Midgard or about the song the phoenixes sing in Surta’s Garden on Muspell.
“I want to be like you”, Loki says once, his feet dangling over the edge of the Bifröst.
“Why do you say that?”
“You’re unique”, Loki gives him a sunny smile. “Everyone fears you.”
“Would you rather be feared than be loved?”
Loki shrugs, smile gone so fast one could doubt it was ever there.
“You need to be seen to be loved. They only see Thor.”
“I see you.” Heimdall tells him and the smile returns to Loki’s face even if it is smaller than before. He leans back until he lies on his back and looks up at the stars above. In the colourful lights from the Bifröst mixing with Loki’s own magic he looks like a normal child even to Heimdall’s eyes.
“How are stars born?”
“I cannot tell you.”
Loki sits up, frowning at his words. “Why?”
“Because I can only show you”, he sits down next to Loki and lays a hand over his eyes.
“Like this”, he projects what he sees against the darkness, a spark hovering in space, splitting in two which are splitting themselves and again and again and again until they’re bathed in sparks, dancing and glittering in the darkness until they begin to gravitate towards each other, forming a swirl that goes faster and faster until it becomes a ball of light.
Loki looks at it with wide eyes, reaching out to touch it but of course there’s nothing there. He’s still a bit breathless when the image fades.
“I want to be like you”, he repeats quietly and leans against Heimdall’s shoulder. “I want to see everything.”
To Heimdall he feels cool even through the glamour.
“No, you don’t”, Heimdall thinks.
Loki grows, still small for an Ice giant, but tall for Asgard, taking after his brother. He’s lithe and quick and beautiful with wits and charisma and has proven himself on the battlefield.
There are many people flocking around Loki, looking for his company for a night or a week or a year. Loki is beautiful, tall and graceful, he’s entertaining and popular and he loves too much, too readily. Heimdall sees them all: the blonde Vanir girl from Loki’s magic class, the Elven prince with so much discontent for any race that isn’t his, the guard with the deep brown eyes and the steady hands on his bow, Svaldifari playing games to win a bet and never looking back, the dwarven princess with lips as sweet and deadly as poison, Angrboda turning her puppy eyes to everyone around and making it seem as if it was Loki’s fault, another guard with strong arms and a beautiful smile that doesn’t take much to turn into a sneer. Thor, Thor and Thor again like an addiction Loki cannot fight.
They all take a piece of Loki’s heart and then lose it somewhere, like a flower trampled on the street.
Then there’s Baldr.
Baldr is nice, he’s decent, he stays with Loki long after the other’s have left. He goes out of his way to make Loki smile and gets him out of trouble if necessary. He shows Loki the most beautiful places, fights at his side in battle and shows honourable intentions in everything he does.
But Heimdall sees and he sees the sneers that mar Baldr’s face when Loki’s back is turned, sees the haughty arrogance and disdain and contempt Baldr has for Loki and how easily Loki let him into his life. Part of him wants to warn Loki but the prince never comes to him anymore like he did as a child.
When Loki agrees to marry him, Baldr has won the bet and breaks the charade. Heimdall is tempted to look away, watch the stars and the voids between them instead of watching every word Baldr speaks cutting into Loki like knives. He loves too easily and too deeply. It makes Heimdall angry for the first time since he took his duties as guardian. He turns away. It isn’t his place to interfere with what happens on the inside of Asgard’s borders.
He doesn’t need to see Loki to know he’s coming. The lightness of his steps, the stride of his legs, they’re still familiar.
“What can I do for you?” He asks without turning around.
“Don’t play with me. You must have seen it!” Loki rails, “I know you’re watching me! Why didn’t you say anything? Do you like to see me suffer, is it that?”
“What makes you think I’m watching you?”
“Your eyes burn like fire on my back. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Loki snaps. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Would you have believed me?”
“I…”, Loki hesitates for a moment but in the end anger wins out. “You could have tried. Instead you let me run into my own disaster and watched me suffer. Every. Single. Time. Even if I hadn’t believed you, there’s my father, my mother, Thor. Even Balder himself. He fears you as much as everyone else does. But no, you just wanted to see me in pain.”
“When you were a boy you came here and looked at the stars as if they were telling you all the secrets in the world. Why would I want to see you hurt?”
“Because I’m not that boy anymore!” Loki screams at him. Suddenly Heimdall grabs him and spins him around so that they both facing the emptiness beyond the Bifröst.
“What is the name of that star?”
“Sunna.”
“Who killed the Midgaridan dragon-slayer Siegfried?”
“Hagen.”
“What did Nödr say when he surrendered Vanaheim to Asgard?”
“One day corn will be the only weapon we need.”
Heimdall releases him.
“Damn you”, Loki curses, stepping away from him.
“You are still you beneath the layers you painted on yourself to attract creatures beneath your worth.”
“My worth?! I am the shadow to Thor’s sun, that’s the only worth I ever had”, Loki yells. Heimdall sees him, cold and glorious and burning in a way that Frost Giants don’t do.
“Why do you always try to be like your brother?” Heimdall asks him.
“Thor stands for all that is Asgard”, and there is something soft in his voice. Heimdall knows that Loki loves Thor and that his love is slowly killing him. He remembers a conversation a long time ago when Loki told him that he wanted to be like him. He wants to be everyone but himself. Perhaps it is his subconsciousness telling him that the face he sees is a lie or maybe Odin, in all his wisdom as a king, is only Asgardian when it comes to raising his children. If Heimdall ever learned anything it was that everyone made mistakes.
“Do you think that because you can see everything you are the judge of my worth?” Loki hissed. “I’m a Prince of Asgard.”
“You are worth more than your title.”
The corners of Loki’s mouth raised derisively. “Show me then. If you can show me the birth of a star then you can surely show me my worth, Keeper.” He spat the last word at him like an insult.
Heimdall kissed him, kissed him like he was special, like he wanted him, like he had seen through all of Loki’s webs and shrouds and hazes, like he mattered.
“This is your worth, Loki Odinsson.”