Odin sat upon his throne and had just dismissed the so called Warrior's three and Sif, denying them their request to go out and search for Thor, and if not Thor then at least Loki.
He could understand why they'd wish to search for Thor, unruly beloved little princeling he was, but Loki? That was beyond him. They must not know what the boy was or they'd beg to slay him themselves.
But no, Odin could not have that, that was his duty as King, if not then at least as the one who brought the Laufeyson into Asgard in the first place, in the assumption he'd be able to raise him into an honourable being. Of course that plan had failed utterly, like as it seems all his plan's (including Frigga) that he invested his personal time into.
It was then, sitting on the throne and contemplating his plans over the Jotun prisoner he once called his 'son', that a cold shiver ran down the old god's back, the hairs at his neck standing up as if electrified and he could feel the magic in his core shake as if trying to escape.
The moment of utter dysphoria vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving Odin unsettled.
He'd only felt like this twice in his long, long life, and that was when he'd stood face to face with none other than the Mistress Death herself, and the 'incident' of Mimir's Well.
The old man frowned. No, the Mistress has not entered the realms of Yggdrasil in a long time, not with her advocates taking care of her work well, but why would magic as settled as his attempt to return to it's origin?
After contemplating a number of ludicrous impossibilities Odin shook his head and decided to forget about it.
There were more important things to do.
Like the announcement he was about to make to Asgard, about the public execution of Loki Laufeyson.
The trickster wouldn't get away from his rightful punishment this time.
"Did you feel that?" a young dwarf asked her mentor, the hammer in her hands shaking and suddenly feeling cold despite the heat of the forges around them. The oldest of their clan threw her a sharp look, just nodding for her to continue.
A stag broke through the undergrowth of the giant forests of Vanaheim. The elf on it's back keeping himself firmly in place despite the shiver Yggdrasil had left him with, ensuring with a pat to his chest that the scroll hidden under his clothing was still in place. Frey needed to know of this as quick as possible!
Looking up he could already make out the bridges far up, barely recognisable against the branches.
They were almost there.
"But Mother, he saved me from the troll, remember?!" a young girl shrieked into her mother's chest as tears ran down her face.
"I know my dear," the woman answered quietly as she tried to calm down her child, "I would never forget."
And she wouldn't, because when every warrior had turned away, not even listened to the pleas of a poor woman from Asgard's outskirts, the second prince, the one whom soldiers called 'not a real warrior', the one so many 'true warriors' mocked behind his back about his magic and 'womanly' attributes, was the one who came to her aid and tricked the troll into it's own demise, who saved her child from certain death. She didn't care that he was a son of Laufey!
"But why would the king do something so horrible to Prince Loki?"
"I do not know my dear."
"I hate him!"
"Hush now, the Allfather's ears are many."
"What did you say?!" the man hissed, and Heimdall didn't like the way the room's shadows seemed to grow and shiver with the mortal's wrath. If he even was mortal anymore, Yggdrasil had warped him well, compared with Frigga's initial descriptions. And he wasn't even about to start on that freak existence of a (comparably) huge, black mouse with white eyes and green skin and (for Norn's sake) canine teeth, that was lying on his very pillow.
"I said," he repeated calmly, doing his best to seem unaffected by the feeling of blackness lapping against his bare feet, "While you rested ("Reprogrammed." the man hissed.), Odin announced the public execution of Loki tomorrow night. Whatever your plan is, you will have to make haste."
Tony turned away from him and began pacing from one side of the room to another, muttering darkly, the shadows flickering, but thankfully much calmer than before as he scratched the black mouse on his shoulder under it's chin. Heimdall carefully turned and was relieved to see that no, it hadn't duplicated.
On the other hand he couldn't remember it getting on the man's shoulder in the first place.
Norns this was all so messed up.
Heimdall was not afraid, really he wasn't. But looking at past evidence and personal experience he couldn't help to be unsettled of what the mortal had survived, and into what it had turned him, considering that the god could not even tell what he had turned into.
This all didn't make much sense and he was missing a piece to solve this puzzle that was Tony.
Tony, who's an eccentric genius and mentally far beyond his fellow human's capacity. Immune to magic or at least some magics, but something of Yggdrasil clung to him, even if the god couldn't tell what.
And where was he even supposed to begin about Yggdrasil, considering the man had existed through it, for a much longer time than anyone else, with more of his sanity intact than one should think possible... so long you ignored the part where he'd hissed 'shut up' at the Heimdall's sword and the mouse one too many times.
Heimdall could see the outrage (and glee of selected few) on the streets of Asgard for the execution of the second prince.
They knew now what the young prince was, that he'd been disinherited of his title. Odin had called him 'Loki Laufeyson' after all.
But even if no one had forgotten the greater and lesser pranks and tricks the prince had played on them, and for all that some people thought Loki should be punished.
No one has forgotten the good he did!
It was Loki who'd taken responsibilities for the common folk of Asgard, for the mages and sorcerers, who'd solved the food problem at the realm's outskirts, and so many other things that eased the realm into working flawlessly as it did.
A public execution?
Any execution?!
No, that was not what the folk wanted.
That wasn't at all what they wanted for the prince, the God of Chaos!
Jotun or no, son of Laufey or no, they all remembered him growing up, they all remembered him, all of them!
It was like this all over the realms, and even the Dwarves, aside from Midgardian's the least magical folk of the realms, felt the shiver from Yggdrasil that Tony had caused, and swore at the message of the Prince's execution despite hating everything Aesir. They may have held a grudge against the second prince for tricking them of their greatest creations, but Dwarves appreciated wit, and were very aware that it was Loki's silver words that had spurred them into making these greatest creations in the first place. So the grudge was more of a formality than anything else, really.
The god could barely keep in his smile as he looked forward to Odin's face when he'd stand as executioner (for if the king demands execution he has to do it himself), and see the displeasure of his people, and the judging glares of all the nine realms, those than knew the secret passages, at his ludicrous decision.
Every circle against Odin knew the passage ways. And the Allfather of course thought everyone oblivious of them.
Chaos would thrive, in whatever cell he was Loki must be able to feel it. It was impossible not to.
It would be brilliant.
Except that it was Prince Loki's execution, which Heimdall truly did not wish to see, and he did not know what the mortal's- the not-mortal's plan was at all!
Yes, Loki may have attacked him with the Casket of Ancient Winters, but honestly, he'd deserved it. Loki had been rightful king, and Heimdall had refused a direct order. His post must've gotten to his head. Either way, no harm done. Norns they were loud, he couldn't even concentrate.
The displeased muttering from the nine realms in his ears was rudely disrupted by the large wooden door to his quarters being flung open, crashing against the wall behind it, revealing none other than Queen Frigga herself.
"YOU!" she screeched, feather cloak making her seem larger as she stormed into the room, her old Witch Queen armor growing spikes with her anger, "You insolent, reckless, Norn forsaken, rotten pea-brain of a mortal!"
With three steps the Queen was in front of the mortal as she spewed insults and cursed his bowels to eat themselves slowly.
Tony though seemed completely unimpressed, until she grabbed him by his shoulders, undoubtedly burying her long nails in his flesh, that the shadows rose and all light in the room vanished, the man's expression hard to see, but his eyes caught an unholy glow from nowhere.
That was enough to silence the queen's anger (worry).
"Do not touch me." Tony said, ordered, inflicting every word with an intensity that did not allow protest of any sort.
Very slowly Frigga stepped back, warily glancing left and right until she threw Heimdall a questioning look, who just raised an eyebrow at her antics.
She looked back to Tony carefully, undoubtedly noticing the differences in him as the room returned to it's usual lighting, and the man looked at her without much recognition.
Heimdall was quite sure she heard it too, the absence of a heartbeat.
It was the high pitched giggle of the freakish mouse in Tony's arms that snapped the silence.
"I have no idea who you are." the man said, looking at Frigga oddly, "Except for that you were part of the plan until I realised you were mostly useless, and that the reason Loki wears green is that it's your favourite colour."
Frigga was just about to answer when Thor entered the room, and Tony's face seemed to relax instantly the moment he saw him.
"Thor! Did you take my bag? Please tell me you took my bag with you!"
It was as if a switch was flicked. The man's stance was much more relaxed, the lights bright as they were supposed to be and his face grinning.
Frigga looked incredibly unsettled, but Heimdall had honestly expected something like this. His own mind had been slightly scrambled too after only spending moments in Yggdrasil's realm.
The older Vanir watched the two discuss their plans to free Loki in light of the execution tomorrow, which didn't seem to throw any stones into their way at all. And for all that they acted as if Heimdall and Frigga weren't in the room, Tony standing with his back to them, he had no doubt that the mouse that hadn't taken it's eyes off them, would somehow let Tony know instantly if they'd approach him.
"That creature." Frigga whispered to him, "It was there with him. It was part of the abandoned gate, but for all it's size and that dreaded laugh, it looked like a regular white mouse. Now it is... unnatural."
Heimdall nodded, noticing that it was listening, it had to be listening with that grin on it's face. "It came with him from the realm of Yggdrasil."
"What?! He went through- No. No that is impossible, he'd be a gibbering mess, if alive at all!"
His Queen looked aghast when he told her about Tony's arrival, his shadows. How the man hadn't been able to string a sentence together without slanting in it's topic, meaning or language, how he told the sword, a gate-fused anchor, and creature to be quiet, and seemed extremely volatile in his moods. How he was much saner now, after his rest, than he'd been upon arrival. They carefully circumvented the entire 'no heartbeat' thing.
That was a pen of bilgesnipes to open another time.
"Heimdall." Tony called him over, "Thor just explained me this whole Fateless deal. I want you to tell as many people as possible that I'll be there tomorrow night."
"There already will be many who disapprove of the Allfather's decision." the god answered, feeling oddly elated by the wide, sharp smile Tony directed at him.
"There will be more when the Fateless challenges the oh-so-great tyrant of worlds."
Heimdall couldn't help but return the grin, "From your lips to the people's ears, Worshipper of Chaos."