Following Our Own Script

Chapter Two

Chapter Two: I Hope We Hang On Past the Last Exit

"You aren't helping," Loki gasped, clutching onto the side of the boat.

Heimdall grabbed the boy's bow. He leaned over the side of the boat, prying Loki's hands off with it. "No time for breaks. Must I emphasize again that you've had months to figure this out by now? Hell, all of today, you laid around like a lazy sack of shit. Hate your days of training so much that you won't attempt to better yourself anymore?"

Loki pushed the bow away. He was clearly still pissed at how Heimdall's award-winning swimming boot camp started. "Like you're an example of self discipline. You should have mastered your Bifrost abilities by now." Loki released the boat before Heimdall could retort. His limbs flailed helplessly as he bobbed in place.

Huginn hopped to Heimdall's side. The bird wasn't scared as long as one of them could swim. Seemed his loyalty to Odin died right after his brother. In that way, they were alike, too.

Heimdall sighed, holding the bow down for the idiot to grab onto. Immediately, Loki did, gasping and spitting up water. He clung to the bow so desperately, Heimdall knew he'd have no hope tearing the boy off before they'd both be swept away. Best case scenario, they lived. Which would be fantastic, except their boat wasn't making it through this. Heimdall didn't need to see its future to know that. Drowning might actually be the best case.

"At least you can float. Build off that. Small kicks, small arm movements." Heimdall wanted to be snarkier, but it could wait until they hit land. Hopefully consensually and not head-first, breaking their necks in the process. The sensation of pain was still new to him. He was confident he could take Kratos on again and win, even without his arm. That obnoxious spear had lost its advantage. But he couldn't outmaneuvered the ocean.

"Halfway through your practice period, sunshine. After this, you swear to me you won't attempt a homicide when that storm hits. If I see you're debating it for a second, I'm drowning you before we even see a cloud."

Loki was frustrated. So much came naturally to the boy. Language, archery. Hell, he even figured out his transformations fairly fast. Heimdall couldn't fathom what difficulty he was running into.

Heimdall laid his chin on the side of the boat and sighed. "The All-Father should have dropped you further in the Lake of Nine. Some poor Midgard would have come across your lifeless body and that would have been it."

"You aren't helping."

"What else would you have me do? Jump in and hold your hand? Support your stomach as you practice like a baby?"

"Babies can't swim"

"Babies are born being able to swing, you dimwit. They can pick it up long before they can shit in a hole"

"You're lying."

"Why, in the Nine Realms, would I lie about this? Why this, of all things?"

Huginn cawed. The two were becoming too much for a bird. Great.

By the end of the allotted time, Loki had at least managed to stay calm while treading water. Heimdall still doubted his chance of survival.

"Rip out a page of your journal and write your father a goodbye letter. Mention how his inability to teach you basic traversal is how you lived through literally the end of a world but not to a stupid island."

Loki rolled his eyes, ringing out his tunic.

Heimdall saw he'd been avoiding learning how to swim, partially because he needed a break from learning lessons. Which was idiotic. Did he see no learning curve to living at sea?