Just a short piece to spread the HemuFrey love in the Loki community. Next time I'll write a less depressing one.

Note: There are various references to runes in the story. The runic alphabet was one of the first writing systems and was said to hold magical properties. Odin is said to have hung himself from Yggdrasil in order to posess this knowledge. When Heimdall talks to Freyr about "words" this is what he is referring to. This story also contains a reference to the myth where Loki steals the Brising Necklace.

000

There was always a chance that Heimdall wouldn't return to the apartment they shared.

There was always a possibility that the dinner Freyr made and left on the counter, even with the runes added to keep warm, would remain uneaten.

Freyr didn't think about it often. But on those nights where he was alone and couldn't sleep he reasoned he much preferred Heimdall's irritated yelling to the silence that pervaded otherwise.

On one such night the harvest god decided to put his worry into something productive. Ever since their partnership began Heimdall had been the one to take care of the inventions and the scheming. None the less, Freyr still prided himself on being a skilled creator of magic and machine alike.

So he made himself comfortable in the main hallway and got to work on one of his miniature robots. After some brainstorming he decided to make an android that could dispense any number of beautiful bouquets for his Yamato Nadeshiko. It never crossed his mind that he had no plans to meet her or that his make-shift workplace was in plain sight of the door.

Gullinbursti had been keeping time for his master. The metallic pig had been instructed to chime on each hour. But Freyr didn't need any farther warning for when Heimdall came in he knew it instinctively.

At first nothing was said, the watcher god remained perfectly still despite the bleeding of several gashes across both his arms and right leg.

"Heimdall , did he-"

"Freyr, you know the words to knit flesh together don't you?"

It wasn't a question, it was an order, but Freyr remained defiant.

"We need to talk about this."

"Talk! What could you possibly have to say at a time like this?"

Freyr remained steady but there was hurt reflected in his eyes that Heimdall couldn't miss. He refused to acknowledge it and would have ended the conversation there, blood and all, if Freyr hadn't begun muttering something.

"Speak up!"

"It would be a good thing if Heimdall would smile, even just once."

The avenging god hadn't expected that and simply gaped at his companion. "What are you on about?"

Suddenly he felt a sharp sensation crawl down his spin and into his limbs. When it subsided he couldn't help shivering from the sheer power. When he looked at his arms once more, they were unblemished and showed no signs of scarring.

"It would be a good thing if Heimdall would stop hurting himself and find a way to be happy!"

Heimdall growled at this, but when he next spoke his tone was low, almost imploring.

"You should know better than anyone, Freyr, that only Loki's suffering could possibly make me smile. That revenge is my happiness."

Freyr balled his hands into fists. This wasn't like their usual arguments the outcome of this would be crucial. But Heimdall refused to understand.

"That can't be where your happiness lies, Heimdall. Freyr doesn't believe that."

"You have every reason to believe it. I'm the one who can't believe you. I've used you Freyr, you and your sister!"

Freyr looked as if he would argue farther but merely shook his head and began again. "Heimdall saved Frejya from Loki. You were able to give back the Brising Necklace that meant so much to her."

"I will grant you three wishes!"

That had been Freyr's proclamation as soon as he had heard word of Heimdall's heroic actions. Compared to the shifting colors of Bifrost that Heimdall had become so accustomed to, Freyr's words were as bright and confidant as the sun itself.

Heimdall brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes self-consciously before responding. "Is this about Frejya?"

Freyr's reaction was all-too-predictable. He knelt down on one knee and grasped Heimdall's hand in his own, it took all the god's willpower to keep from yanking it away.

"But of course! You saved my little sister in her hour of need. Something this humble god would have done in a flash had no hero appeared." With a flourish Freyr stood up once more. "None the less, to show my eternal gratitude you may partake of any riches I can offer you just short of dear Frejya's hand in marriage."

It was quite a while before Heimdall was able to make all that out, and even longer to respond.

"I only did what was sensible. Frejya and you are my kind, Loki is nothing but a worthless parasite."

This didn't seem to get through to Freyr as he stood there expectantly, a grin still plastered on his handsome features.

"I don't need anything, thanks." Heimdall snapped before going back to his seat before the brilliance that was the rainbow bridge. Freyr sat next to him all the same.

"I see now Freyr, you still believe you're in debt to me, but that's where you're wrong."

Something like a sob came from Heimdall that all too quickly turned into a cackle.

"That's where you're wrong! After Odin banished Frejya I took that necklace of hers, the same one she so adored, and used it against her." The laughter rose to a peak here but that one dark eye that held so much anguish spoke of no amusement.

"You're the fool here, Freyr."

"Freyr knew."

Heimdall frowned at those two words. "What did you say?"

"Freyr knew all along! From the beginning, everything!"

Heimdall stood dumbfounded at this revelation and at the grim expression on his one shining example of trust. "Then… why?"

Freyr walked over to Heimdall and stopped as if those harsh words thrown about had formed something tangible to separate them.

"Because Heimdall never used Freyr, Heimdall has only ever used that deep pain inside himself."

He turned his back on Heimdall before continuing.

"That's why Freyr thought it would make a difference if Heimdall smiled."

The god of fertility, the sage of love, the glowing god, shot one last lonely look over his shoulder before returning to his room.

Heimdall had never considered Freyr bigger before. Obviously, now that Odin has trapped him in a human child's body he was, in proportion, only half the size of Frey. But he had always been the leader, no matter his stature Frey had still looked up to him. Now, that retreating back seemed larger still.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Heimdall had always wondered if perhaps Freyr knew more about wishes than he let on. After all he came to rest beside him the day after, and all the days following.