Following Our Own Script

Chapter One

"But how much time was between taming the mutt and then? And even if you still wanted war, why not use the creature to open tears in all the realms and throw a true surprise attack already within Asgard's walls?"

Loki opened his mouth to protest further, but Heimdall cut him off.

"Saying you didn't know the beast could get to Asgard is a better answer than fumbling with excuses. Don't try to justify a missed opportunity."

But that's all Loki could think about now. He had regretted many aspects of the last year. The boy was oozing guilt. Let him.

Heimdall knew, even to his standards, he was being especially cruel. Tormenting the brat when they were both physically and mentally struggling over the 'what ifs' even he hadn't considered until recently. Truth was, he did understand the need for the All-Father's destruction. Ragnarok was in motion far before the brat and his father had gotten involved. He saw it, but he refused to see it. Heimdall would never admit any of this to Loki. His hatred for the inevitable kept him from wanting anyone to feel anything but anguish over their actions. For now, this would at least keep Loki quiet.

But the precious silence Heimdall wanted was cut short. Heimdall slapped Loki on the shoulder. "Fish. They're coming."

'Thoughts' was too big of a word for what fish had. But all living beings had intentions. Most animals were as simple as 'live'.

Loki shook his head, grounding himself. Heimdall's foresight worked faster than Loki's ability to hear animals.

The two sat painfully still, looking over the edge of the boat. Heimdall felt his stomach growl. Gods could go much longer without food than mortals, but fuel was fuel. They'd both become distracted. Loki readied his bow, staring into the murky ocean.

The arrow shot down. Heimdall pounded his fist in the air. Loki triumphantly laughed.

This had been the cycle for most of their journey. Heimdall would ruthlessly try and break Loki down, where Loki tried his best at invading Heimdall's personal history. The two bickered worse than Sif and Odin.

But no matter their words or how awful they stung, the two had bonded. Heimdall hated it. Wanted to throw up every time he thought about it. Even with that bond, he wasn't positive he wouldn't end up drowning him if their days went on as they had. Saying he liked him was an overstatement. He loathed the boy. Resented him for everything he had brought. And yet, here they were, forgetting their pasts temporarily while arguing how to safely start a fire on a completely wooden ship.

"It won't kill you to eat it raw."

"Some of us aren't literally part beast. If that makes me sick, then what? I vomit my

intestines out into the water and die a pitiable death?"

"You won't get sick. He's healthy."

"Oh, and he told you that as you speared him? How trustworthy."

"No, he's not able to express those types of thoughts."

"It was sarcasm."

"I'd be able to-"

"Feel it if he was sick," they said in unison, Heimdall mocking Loki's words. Loki was unamused.

"You don't know a single spell that can heat things up?"

"No more than you."

Heimdall sighed. This was pointless. He snatched the fish from Loki. He swallowed both his pride and his saliva before taking a bite.

Loki laughed. "You don't want me to cut it up? Just going for it?"

Heimdall ignored him. This was vile. Blood ran down his lips. He threw the thing back to Loki. "Don't make it fancier than it needs to be, half-breed."