The Fire Within
Unlike the others, who were attracted to Loki's copper-red hair and bright handsome face, Heimdall was drawn by the fire in his eyes, the flames seeming to spill from their depths (especially when he was plotting), almost blazing when he was in a merry mood.
He remembers the time when Thrym demanded the hand of Freya for Mjollnir: how Loki had suggested various plans to get Thor's beloved Hammer back without losing Freya, each one wilder than the preceding, the last (involving the Brisingamen, complicated shape-shifting, and a goat) being received with hilarity by all except Heimdall and Thor.
Heimdall, staring at Loki's animated expression and laughing eyes, had said without thinking,
"I can see why Loki is so enthusiastic about shape-shifting, but really, only Freya's dress and her necklace are required. All Thor has to do is play his part as convincingly as possible, and the wedding gift will naturally be presented to him, then when all the giants are drunk at the wedding feast, he can wield Mjollnir to his heart's content.
"As for the goat, surely it can be put to better use drawing the wedding carriage?"
The gods had fallen silent for a little longer after this uncharacteristic speech while Heimdall concentrated on his feet, then unanimously (except for Thor) acclaimed the plan. Loki, who had seemed to be listening as intently as the others, said with an almost visible sneer,
"Heimdall, I'm proud of you: a plan worthy of the Trickster God himself!"
He had thought that Loki's look would be as cold as his voice, and was surprised by the warmth in the gaze that met his startled eyes.
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There are countless days when he feels like solitary watching is almost too much to take; what keeps him going is the fact that it is his duty, that he was born with hyper-acute senses and negligible sleep requirements for this indispensable service.
Loki makes the nights bearable.
From his earliest days in Asgard, the trickster had derived much amusement from trying to evade the Guardian of the Bifrost bridge (trying being the operative word), until he had apparently decided to stop attempting to get around Heimdall, and start getting to him instead.
He cannot remember when he first invited Loki to his hall for supper, though more likely Loki had simply strolled in and begun a conversation about the ghastly weather outside, or Thor's latest giant-slaying exploits, and by the way, Heimdall, that meal looks delicious, would you happen to have some leftovers for a hungry and weary traveler?
Loki probably stayed far too long that first night, just as he did on the nights that followed. His visits are unpredictable (as befits a god of Chaos), though Heimdall does try to calculate the probable pattern and the chance that he will come, waiting in the cold long winters when the roaring blaze of a fire in the hearth cannot warm his blood like the heat of Loki's eyes, or Loki's body.
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The blood burned his face as it streamed from his wounded eye; he watched Loki helplessly, and all he could see through the pain was Loki with the eyeball in his grasp, turning away from him with an unreadable look on his face, which, he convinces himself, held no trace of apology or sadness.
His rage still smoulders, kindling to fury
whenever the phantom pain of his lost eye blazes to life, and the
sight of Loki's damned smiling eyes is enough to spark his anger.
Freyr remains unimpressed, telling him that a child's temper
tantrums are unbecoming of a god, oops, sorry – you are in
child-form now.
He feels a warm glow of satisfaction when the painstakingly-gathered pumpkins in Freyr's arms burst into flames with a single glare in their direction.
Heimdall watches, waits, and plans, and reminds himself that revenge is a dish best served cold.