Feathers and Portents
Author: Frost on Maples
Author's Notes: Marvel/Disney are the owners and in charge of Thor and the Avengers. Seriously. Sorry to shock those who think otherwise…
I vowed to never write an Asgardian fic again. Never! But I couldn't help jotting down a few ideas for a short piece about Heimdall, and then I saw the outtakes from Thor: The Dark World with the ravens being decidedly uncooperative and couldn't resist.
Many thanks to the great bunch at the Beta Branch, for all the help, encouragement and inspiration. Writing would be much more difficult without their kind help.
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Heimdall watched.
- the remnants of a tribe of Frost Giants celebrate the birth of a child: such a small, fragile step towards their recovery...
- Lady Sif and the Warriors Three stalk along a mountain ridge of Vanaheim, searching for a camp of rebels...
- a pair of young elven hunters stand watch as children gather berries - none of the predators of Alfheim are nearby, but it is good to see vigilance for the young...
- a young maid of the palace weeps as she scrubs doggedly at the large stain on the floor of the queen's suite, while Fulla and the grief-stricken ladies in waiting carefully put gowns and possessions into cases for storage…
- Hela listens with a cold smile as a desperate lover begs her to release a poor soul from her domain...
- a beast of Jotunheim, left behind after Malekith's incursion, is contained and tamed by the mortals of Midgard...
- Flames obscure his sight, allowing only brief glimpses of Surtur's minions as they plot and scheme...
- King Hreidmar commands the dwarves to hold a feast in honour of Frigga, and announces a day of rest and mourning, letting the forges temporarily fall silent for the first time since the conflict between Laufey and Odin started...
- Cold winds moan across the barren, dark plains of Svartalheim - all life is deeply hidden, sullen in defeat...
He frowned as he surveyed the nine realms from his point on the edge of the world. A note of unease had plagued him since Frigga's death and Thor's departure for Midguard, but he couldn't see anything that would cause his sense of imbalance. Thor was well on Midgard with his mortal friends. Sif and the Warriors Three were busy on Vanaheim, searching for a rumoured rebel group. All appeared as well as could be expected.
A pair of moving black specks caught his eye. As he watched, Odin's ravens, Huginn and Muninn, soared into the realm of Asgard from their travels. They swooped past him with harsh mocking calls. He glowered at them, but said nothing; at least this time they didn't drop a dead rat on the roof of the control room. He frowned again as he watched them fly over the city. They circled the palace, clearly agitated, without entering. Why were they not returning to Odin?
His frown cleared as he saw Odin striding across the rainbow bridge. Obviously, the birds were refusing to enter the still-damaged throne room when their master wasn't present. For all that they were more than mere birds, they clearly didn't like disruption to the routine. A logical explanation.
"Hail, Heimdall," Odin called as he entered the control room. "How are matters in the nine realms?"
"All is calm, my lord," he responded as he bowed deeply. "The Warriors Three and the Lady Sif still search for the rebels your spies told you about in the mountains of Vanaheim. Thor is well, and maintains vigilance for the security of Midgard with his friends. Surely Huginn and Muninn keep you apprised of their progress."
"They do," Odin replied with a patient nod. "I find, though, that these days I value having another person's insight as well, not just the facts they report."
"I'm flattered that you seek my council," Heimdall replied smoothly. "How may I be of assistance?"
"Is there anything of substance happening on Svartalheim?" Odin asked. "Since the events of late, I feel the need to check on the doings in that realm."
"All is still, my lord," Heimdall answered. "There is very little beyond barren rocks. The few that still live are well hidden, and I seldom see them." Behind his calm facade, he was puzzled. Very little insight was needed for a report on a place as barren as Svartalheim.
Odin nodded thoughtfully in reply as he gazed out at the stars. "I find reports reassuring. The…business with Malekith has cost us too dearly for me to be easy about anything to do with that realm." They stood in silence for a minute, each remembering Frigga in his own way. The All-Father cleared his throat. "And what of Thor?"
"He is with the mortal Jane Foster. Currently, it is nighttime where they are, and they are gazing at the stars, trying to see our presence in their night sky, and talking about seeing their other mortal friends tomorrow." Despite the sorrow, Heimdall was strangely reassured by the line of questioning. Of course the All-Father would be different after the current losses he had suffered. He had genuinely loved his queen, and not having his son at his side as he grieved and rebuilt Asgard had to be painful. He had seen men do more than behave oddly after such losses.
"Is he happy?" Heimdall carefully refrained from raising an eyebrow. Only a trained observer such as himself would notice the note of bitterness under the concern of Odin's question. Was the All-Father having second thoughts about allowing his son to leave Asgard, or was there something else?
"He is happy with the mortals, and he does love Jane Foster," Heimdall reported calmly, his expression giving away nothing. "But there are times, like tonight when he and Jane search the heavens for signs of Asgard, that he longs for home, and to see you again. He still grieves for his mother and brother. He speaks of you, Frigga and Loki to her: she is wise enough to listen, and comforts him as best she can."
Odin nodded silently, continuing to gaze at the stars. "Keep me apprised as to how he is, and his doings," he ordered.
"Of course, my lord," Heimdall replied, carefully bland. "I will send reports to you regularly." His uneasiness returned. Odin was never so…open, would never ask. He would know that Heimdall would send the information regardless. Was he starting to mistrust his own sentinel after centuries of faithful service, or was there something else afoot? "Of course, Huginn and Muninn could also watch. Then you wouldn't have to wait for the reports from me."
"True." Odin was silent for a minute before turning to his sentinel. "I have to make a confession. My birds haven't been very…reliable recently." He grimaced ruefully. "They don't like the disruption of recent events. They have refused to enter the throne room since it was damaged, and they seem to…miss Frigga."
"Perhaps it would help if you had them come to you here?" Heimdall suggested, discretely watching Odin's face. "They are used to flying by here. Surely they could be persuaded to stop here to report to you until the throne room is restored?"
There was something forced about the smile that briefly flashed onto Odin's face. "There's no harm in trying." He turned out toward the stars.
"My lord, they are already in Asgard," Heimdall said, carefully not watching. "They arrived a short while ago, and are circling the palace."
"It is obvious why it is you who are the sentinel, not I," the All-Father said wryly. He turned to the palace and saw the black specks flying above. He called softly, "Come."
The reaction was immediate: the ravens promptly ceased flying in circles and headed to the control house. They called out harshly as they approached, wings beating steadily as they swooped in, all grace until they saw Odin. At the sight of the All-Father, they abruptly changed course from the arm he had extended for them. They almost collided in an undignified scramble, a few errant feathers falling before they roosted on the railing around the central console as they warily eyed Odin, their harsh calls containing a jeering note.
"They've been like this since the destruction of the throne room," Odin said. "Who would have thought they would be so sensitive to damage?" He stepped closer to the ravens: they continued the jeering calls, clacking their beaks and flapping their wings angrily. One of them launched itself towards the ceiling, its calls becoming mocking as something splatted onto Odin's shoulder. "It's obvious that they're not going to tell me anything now."
"Maybe another time," Heimdall said soothingly, innocently. "Try again later."
"Perhaps." The All-Father's serenity was flawless as he pulled out a cloth to wipe his shoulder. "I should return to the palace. Vor wishes to consult with me on commissioning a statue of Frigga. We can try this another time." He abruptly turned and strode back to the city, calm and confidence in his posture, yet Heimdall sensed an undercurrent of cold rage…
A loud tapping interrupted his train of thought. He looked down to see one of the ravens had moved close to tap the railing next to his hand. The bird cocked its head to stare into his eyes, its own eye brimming with intelligence. Its call had none of the jeering tone it had had when Odin called them, and it nodded its head. The other raven circled the control house, calling to its partner. The one roosted next to Heimdall nodded one more time at him before joining its partner in the air, and flying off to one of the other realms.
Heimdall nodded, much as the raven had done, deep in thought as he reached down to pick up a fallen feather. The unease was back, and obviously he wasn't the only one to feel it.
Odin was entitled to be different after his losses. Asgard was bound to be uneasy and off-balance after the degree of success Malekith had with his attack, and the death he had brought, and yet….
If there was something else, it was too well hidden for now. He swept a look over Asgard, saw nothing that wasn't as it should be. He nodded thoughtfully, and returned patiently to his post. Patience. Observe. Wait. He was well-practiced.
Heimdall watched.