Warning: Poor Heimdall gets kind of humiliated, so every crazy big fans of his, don't sue me. I adore him, but it doesn't stop me from being sadistic to him.
ON THE SPIRAL Chapter 7
Heimdall looked around blissfully. The bed was very convenient and warm, with silky covers, the entire room was undoubtedly kind of luxurious. The sun was shining brightly, and the happy birds were chirping gleefully. Ah, what a paradise!
After few minutes, he only prayed for those stupid birds to eventually shut up.
He got up with a groan, knowing that the enthusiastic orchestra wouldn't let him sleep any longer. Absent-mindedly, he held out his hand to get his clothes, but found nothing. A little confused, he opened his eyes fully and cautiously eyed the bedroom up and down.
He'd swear that he had put his clothes right there. But again, his eyes met only an empty space, and his wardrobe were nowhere to be found, which made him frown and twitch at the same time.
Heimdall cursed badly under his breath, and stood up, heading to his bathroom. Maybe he forgot that he had put them elsewhere. With an irritated sigh, he entered the bathroom and closed the door. He wondered why there isn't any towel, but then he remembered that there is another one in the cupboard.
After some time, the door clicked and he threw away his pajamas, because he didn't want it to soak wet. 1 Albeit after this day, he changed his habits, due to the horrible incident which humiliated the poor god and gave him an extremely important lesson: never, ever stay in a room without any clothes to possibly dress up in, especially if you live in the same house as the Trickster God.
Because it is highly possible that if you get out, you can find no pajamas.
Heimdall growled and looked around again. The situation wasn't the best of all, since he still couldn't see any clothing. Apart from that, he was all wet. He approached the cupboard, expecting a nice, warm towel to wipe away this cold water. But the sight only wiped off his hopes. There wasn't any towel.
He cursed badly and rolled his eyes. But even this exasperation couldn't fight off the growing terrible fear that began to form in his mind.
He managed to calm down a bit, and asked himself what to do now. He couldn't ask help
at any cost. Everyone would die laughing at him, seeing him so wet and... naked. He shuddered at the thought and the image. He was aware that there wouldn't be any way to regain his precious pride after that.
Once again, he peered around and then his eyes met a small wardrobe in the corner of the room. It was definitely empty the last time he checked it (yesterday, late evening) but it was inadmissible to give up and kill all his hope.
He slowly headed towards the wardrobe and opened its door, praying fiercely to find some clothing in it. He was even able to pray to Freyr at the moment, hell, even to Gullinbrusti, only to find any clothes.
The miracles happen, and so, he found it. His eyes went twice their size and if the walls could hear, they'd witness the ugliest litany of curses that was ever heard in this mansion.
....
Everyone was sitting at the table, talking casually about anything that came up. The atmosphere wasn't as dense as yesterday, because both ladies decided they were too elegant to argue like lovesick teenagers (Mayura was both, and no one could deny that Freya's affection passed the limits of an obsession a long time ago) and besides, Loki surely didn't like the idea of spending the breakfast in the bad company.
Loki, on his side, was only waiting. Waiting with all his heart, until the moment of sweet revenge would come.
Yamino-san was in the kitchen, preparing the tea, when he heard steps. He turned back and even Heimdall's frustrated "sshhh" and a promise of a deadly threat blatantly written all over his face couldn't stop the outburst.
"Hahahaha!!!"
The hysterical laughter brought everyone from the living room straightly to the kitchen, and then they only tried to comprehend why calm and kind Yamino-san was writhing on the floor in the attack of the uncontrollable laughter. Then, they looked at the left side of the place, and saw it.
Heimdall, still slightly wet, with water dripping down from his hair stood there, very pale. He was dressed in an orange, tight top with violet polka dots on it and a glaring pink mini-skirt, with a green furbelow decorating it, plus the pair of yellow socks with a bear's smiling face on the left leg, and the monkey with a banana on the right leg.
Everyone stared with wide, wide eyes. Freya twitched soundlessly and passed out, falling ungracefully on the floor, maybe expecting Loki to catch her. But her wish wasn't granted, since Loki was staring with the others; stunned by the effect which was far better than he imagined.
"What?" snickered Heimdall and turned back.
But there was another little thing, he missed while dressing up. Probably because he did it quickly, only to get downstairs to get some food and then lock himself up in his room, and because he didn't even want to watch those miserable clothes too closely. Which was another big mistake.
The back of his top had a shining: "I am an idiot" inscription.
.....
Thor happily knocked on the door, looking with approbation at flowers in the buckets, and hoping that Loki would have an odd fancy for buying some nice, colorful ones. If Megane is here, I might talk him into it, he thought with a grin. It was a good idea to catch this part-time job. He frowned slightly as no one responded him and knocked harder. Even that didn't bring any result. And when he opened his mouth to shout...
"MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
... a yell containing various voices almost knocked him off his feet. He got up shakily with wide eyes and gulped hard. That was certainly not a common thing to be heard at the Loki's mansion.
He decided to get in; maybe they were poisoned or possessed or something... He got a good use of Mjollnir, literally smashing, or rather burning the door. The loud laughter led him to the kitchen and he had to revise his beliefs about what was strange and what was not. The wild, disturbing yells were not so ordinary, but as he eyed the situation in the place, he came to think that there were more stunning things.
Daidouji was crawling through the floor in no direction in particular, choking from laughing too much and she had even tears in her eyes. Megane was laughing like mad with small breaks, but when his eyes caught again the splendid image of Heimdall, he started his outburst all over again.
Freya was lying unconsciously on the floor, with a pained and utterly disgusted expression on her face. Nearby, Fenrir was spluttering, crying and chortling at the same time, and Ecchan was swirling in the air, obviously still in the aftermath of shock, with small spirals replacing its eyes.
Loki on his side, was laughing completely madly and twitching a bit, because each time he laughed harder, his stomach began to hurt more and he was lacking a healthy dose of the air per minute. Even if he felt his face turning colors, he just couldn't stop. That sight was worth even passing out from exhaustion.
And then Thor saw Heimdall. He slowly blinked few times in total astonishment and the sudden comprehending struck his head. No wonder why everyone was rolling in an attack, since his own lips were curving dangerously and he felt the chuckle growing in his throat.
After that, Thor finally gave up and fell on his knees laughing miserably.
Heimdall's face twitched horribly and he snarled more than angrily, but no one seemed to even notice the certain signs of his patience passing its final limit beyond recall. He peered around and his eyes burnt with much, much irritation.
"THAT'S IT!!!" he bowled and his yell was unexpectedly welcomed by the perfect, deadly silence. No one spoke nor moved, they all just stood/lied/kneeled frozen, every single pair of eyes stuck to Heimdall's form. Corners of Loki's lips went up first and then the rest joined him unconsciously.
But before they could start the whole rolling-laughing action all over again, Heimdall spat:
"I'm moving out. Now. And I want him dead, too. Now."
With those words, he dashed towards Loki and his fist made a quick as well as painful contact with the Trickster God's face. Loki, a bit taken aback, rubbed his cheek and snickered. It didn't matter that Heimdall was now smaller and child; his strength was normal and Loki didn't want to end beaten and cut only because he had have a fancy for respecting the other god's situation.
And just when he managed to fight back, Heimdall's head had a far too close and violent meeting with a frying pan.
TBC.
1 Well. I know that from my own experience. When I bath, I somehow manage to wet all bathroom. Almost everything is wet- the floor, the shelf, the mirror and even two walls. I just somehow splash the water around -- So my pajamas have to wait for me outside, 'til I go out, because they'd get wet inside.
Sorry it took so long to update but I'm getting even more homework than I've expected. I just don't make in time.
