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Those damn weather gods. Heimdall gazed out into the hazy world that lay beyond his windows, a lone, leather-clad finger tracing shapes against the condensation. It was supposed to be a sunny day, but alas. He hadn't taken long to connect the unusually gloom weather with Freyr's quietness this morning.It was almost eerie, Freyr was never one to be so solemn. The last he had laid a fierce rainstorm against Midgard was when he had eyes for that giantess, Gerd. Heimdall hadn't appreciated the incessant wailing and moaning as it down-poured for a week straight. That outburst was so dramatic, it couldn't be taken so seriously. Thankfully, this time was only a gentle shower.Nevertheless, the slightly worse-than-usual weather wouldn't stop Heimdall's duties for the day. There was no time to waste when it came to Loki. Certainly, not enough time to ponder Freyr's grievances.He stretched his legs—probably not the best day to wear shorts, he noted—and arms in a yawn. With some grace, Heimdall slid off the couch and left his place by the windowsill. Each creaky step on the floorboards echoed through the house, punctuating the unnerving quiet of the space. There was no background of the off-key drone of machinery or the loud romcoms on the TV, nor was Gullinbursti and his mechanical oinking present. Casting a worried glance into the rest of the house, he plucked a forest green jacket off the hook of the coat rack."Oi, Frey!" Heimdall called into the apartment. His eyebrows furrowed slightly upon the silence as the jacket hung in his grasp. Seriously, what was his problem? "I'm gonna be out, okay?" He tried again as he unfurled his coat, beginning to shrug it on. Irritation twitched at the corner of his mouth.Heimdall sighed as he received no response once more, only what sounded the shuffling from the other room. Fine then. If Freyr wanted to be like that, so be it. Not his problem. Whatever Freyr was upset about was insignificant, and probably couldn't compare to the crushing loss he'd caused days prior. Damn Freyr. Heimdall paused the putting on of his coat and shook his head. It wasn't like he could say anything about it, Freyr knew nothing and meant nothing. That didn't mean Heimdall couldn't be silently upset about it though. That teriyaki Frey had offered days prior softened the blow somewhat, at least.He pulled the rest of his sleeves over his thick gloves and shoved his feet into his sneakers. Taking the keys from the hook, he briefly considered checking on his roommate but decided against it. With haste, Heimdall twisted the door knob open and stepped outside into the stormy afternoon.Cold air brushed up against his skin, minuscule raindrops catching in the violet strands of hair that shrouded half of his face. It wasn't so bad, just a little bit of water. He quickly locked the door behind him. Shoving his gloved hands into the pockets of his jacket, he looked to the sidewalk, avoiding raindrops pelting his only eye.Rain was something he was used to dealing with. He'd stood through rain and wind and snow and Thor's violent and thunderous rage, but unfortunately, that didn't translate well to the fragile child's body he bore. With sourness, Heimdall tugged his jacket closer to his body to keep himself from shivering. It was for the mission, and he'd do anything to complete it (Although upon the arrival of Freyr and the loss of his godhood, it was clear his task had become exile. He tried not to ponder it too often.) Freyr's allyship was important to this task, his magic was more powerful than anyone else on Midgard, even if he was dim.Things would be much easier if he hadn't lost that stupid necklace at the hands of Loki again. He could only hope Freyr hadn't noticed the missing Brisingamen in the days they'd spent recovering from the loss. He also hoped Freyr hadn't magically summoned the brainpower to connect the dots between the failed mission he'd fainted at and the beacon of light that emitted from Freya's awakening.Navigating to Loki's house posed no issue even with the rain. Really, Heimdall had spent hours mapping out the quickest route weeks before. After all, he was the only reason he was here. If he hadn't taken everything, Heimdall would've still been standing at the bifröst. If Loki hadn't ruined everything, Heimdall wouldn't have to deal with Freyr's ridiculous and dramatic outbursts. If it weren't for Loki, Brisingamen would be with its rightful owner. Damn Loki. Stupid, damned, Loki. It was always Loki.With every trodding step, over puddles and mud, Heimdall hadn't even noticed he was standing at the gate of Loki's mansion. He'd only visited once before, just to mess with Loki's mind a little. He snickered at the memory of Loki's shocked face before pushing open the gate. The metal creaked and grated against the concrete as Heimdall walked inside. Every flower bloomed beautifully against the grey skies, warmth radiating from the windows.As he approached the front doors, he realized just how clammy his hands were, his heart beating uncomfortably fast in his chest. He had no tricks up his sleeve if things went awry, then again, this wasn't the old Loki. The new Loki was much softer, and wouldn't dare lay a finger against Heimdall unless he had to. With this new reassurance, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door.Loki had opened the door as if expecting someone else, eyes bright with fondness, only to have his gaze darken upon realizing who stood in front of him. Warm light from Loki's house cast onto Heimdall, almost making him seem friendlier than usual."Why are you here?" Loki promptly asked, door ready to slam in Heimdall's face. "Come to mock me again?""Can't Higashiyama Kazumi visit his friends once in a while?" Heimdall forced a smile. Loki merely stared at him deadpan, and after an uncomfortable moment, his smile fell. Clearing his throat, he spoke, "Only teasing. I thought you of all people would understand, of course.""Tell me your business or leave, Heimdall," Loki stated again, more firmly."Right." Heimdall relaxed, leaning against the doorframe as the rain showered behind him. "Think of me not as your enemy, right now, but as a messenger."Loki narrowed his gaze, searching him for any fault in his words, only to find none. Cautiously, he relaxed his posture, but his stare never wavered. "And who do you come in the name of?""Yngvi-Freyr," Heimdall said with a smile. "Of course. He only asks for a single favor." He watched the calculations behind Loki's eyes work every risk and benefit and implication that his words held. Back then, it used to make Heimdall worry about the trouble he'd cause. Nowadays, it was more amusing than anything."And what should this favor be?" Loki asks. The look in his eye and the hesitation in his voice tells Heimdall that he already knows the request.He motions to his neck, tracing an invisible line across his chest where a necklace would lie. "I'm sure you recall coming home from the aquarium with a souvenir.""No." Loki straightens up again. "Why would I give it to you?""It isn't for me, haven't I said that already?" Heimdall pushes off the doorframe, maintaining his relaxation. "It's Freyr that asks for Brisingamen."Loki scoffs, "Freyr is your ally, it's all the same.""Is it not his right to have it?" Heimdall says, grinning. "His sister is absent. Her father and her children have no current presence on Midgard and her mother hasn't been seen in years. Right now, Freyr should deserve to hold it more than any other god."His speech seemingly does nothing to affect the other though."I can't risk it.""I rather not fight you for it again," Heimdall solemnly says. "I've won nearly every time," He reminds."I rather not fight you in general," Loki sighs. "But I can't allow Freya's necklace to lie in your hands.""She's strengthened since I've awakened her. You know this," He bargains. Truly, Heimdall has no intentions of messing with Freya again. Too unreliable, he's found. "And I have no interest in her. I'm only helping an ally—a friend if you will—find his sister, and the necklace is important to him.""Freyr has made an attempt on my life too, might I remind you." Loki scowls, growing closer and closer to slamming the door shut."He cares more about his sister than you, I assure," Heimdall states flatly.A moment of silent bargaining washes over them; the hum of falling rain sings in the background. Finally, to Heimdall's relief, Loki relents.He watches as he retreats into the house, listening to the clacking of shoes on the wooden stairs as Loki climbs to the second floor. When he returns, he presents a small wooden box in his hands with a glower.Heimdall smiles. "You really have gone soft." Loki barely even spares him a glance.Carefully, Loki's small childish hands unclick the lock, cautiously opening the box. Heimdall's eye falls upon the golden accessory that sleeps upon the silk cloth. It was just as beautiful as it was centuries ago when he pulled it up from salty ocean depths; it was just as enchanting as it was a week ago when it fell between his gloved hands, shining against the blue sky.Heimdall gently hooks Brisingamen around his index finger, plucking it from its silken cradle. It almost glows with warmth. He can't help but gaze upon the blazing jewels and the red gold, the necklace flowing like water as it drapes over his hand. Never was there a necklace like it.Snapping out of his trance, he shoves the necklace into his pocket. Loki watches solemnly, regret seeming to sink into his eyes and skin like a disease. The sight of it is almost prettier than the jewels."And should you ever use Freya again—""Don't be so silly," Heimdall laughs. "You know I can't get you with the same trick twice."He turns around and waltzes through the open gate, the rain dancing around him. Loki's eyes seem to bore holes into his back as he begins to walk home, and the feeling of being watched only leaves once he rounds the corner.By the time he reached his doorstep again, the rain had picked up. Shoving the key into the lock, Heimdall briefly struggles to open the door and get the key out. He gently kicks the door open and walks in, tracking some water.Freyr sits on the couch in silence."Eh, decided to show your face around today?" Heimdall asks, untying his shoes. The house is dark, he notes, and the room is only lit by the dying light of the rainstorm. Heimdall slips off his jacket and hangs it back on the rack where it belongs; water steadily drips from it and onto the floor.Instead of some hearty comment or friendly jab that dismisses all of his attitude, Freyr stays silent.Heimdall stares at him through the dark room, the rain humming outside. After a moment, he calls again. "Frey? Hello?" He waves a hand his way for good measure.At first, there is more silence, but then Freyr speaks. "Why did you awaken Freya, Heimdall?"He isn't quite sure what to say, and so he stands, quietly. His mouth opens yet no words come out and his fists clench in empty threats."Answer me.""I... I needed to speak to her," Heimdall tries as he stands his ground."What could be so important—" Freyr rises from his seat, face still partially obscured in the dark—"That you must hide her from me?"Sinking dread pools in his stomach and sweat runs down the back of his neck, he tells himself it's just rainwater. A hand reaches into his pocket, toying with the necklace around his fingers. Guilty silence is Heimdall's only response."You used her, didn't you?" Freyr asks. A glare lands on Heimdall's scowling face. "You used her in your little scheme.""It was for our mission, Freyr," Heimdall explains, his voice steady as he looks up at Freyr. "You understand that, don't you? This is Loki we're talking about here.""To the depths of Hel with Loki and the mission," Freyr spits. "Freya's safety weighs more than that rat's death.""And his death is her safety.""She loved him," Freyr says. As the clouds shift and Freyr approaches, Heimdall can distinguish his features in the grey light—his furrowed brows, his frenzied look, the hair that falls into his face. "How did you get her to turn against him?"His heart beats wildly against the bones of his ribcage, sweat drags uncomfortably in his gloves. He is not afraid of Freyr, why should he be? And yet for once he truly feels like a child as he takes a small step back."I only reminded her of what he did to her, why she was in the form she's in.""Freya is not one to give her love up so easily, if even it hurts her." The rain thumps loud and fast outside against the glass, pounding against the roof of their home. "Brisingamen has been gone from your desk—Freyr should've known the first time he saw, Heimdall lied. You told me you would keep it safe, that you would keep Freya safe.""And I did!" Heimdall shouts. "It's with us, I've done no harm to it. Freya is safe too. You have no need to worry!""Tell me again, Heimdall," Freyr asks again. "How did you get Freya to give in?"Heimdall stops in his tracks to consider his words. "It was only with magic—the magic you taught me. She couldn't be convinced without it," He grits out beneath his breath. It wasn't so much a lie, more so withholding some truth."You put her in danger. You hid her from me and hurt her," Freyr raises his voice as he steps closer."Freyr, you must understand!" Heimdall yells. "Loki is the enemy of all the gods! Freya was someone he thought he could trust, and he did. Freya almost killed him, almost! But do you know who failed the whole mission, Freyr? Do you know who missed Freya's presence? You." He jabs a finger into Freyr's chest as he huffs. "And you lost her again. I don't know where she went after that. I would've known should you not have crashed so stupidly into that damned aquarium."Freyr falls to silence, and Heimdall can't help the smirk that tugs at his face. He looks dumbfounded, almost crushed by the weight of the truth.Heimdall continues, just to rub it in for good measure. "So don't blame me for our failures—It all falls on you.""Does it fall on me when you never told me?" Freyr says, finding his voice again. "Does it fall on me when it was you who lost the Brisingamen? Does it fall on me when you broke every promise you had, Heimdall?" His breaths are deep as he looks down on Heimdall, glowering with disgust.Heimdall opens his mouth to speak, to defend himself. "Frey," He reasons, but he hardly gets his name out.He did not expect the cold, stinging pain that blooms across his cheek, nor the ache that blossoms from landing on his elbow. Scrambling to prop himself against the wall, his feet stumble over the very shoes he'd tripped on. Heimdall tentatively raises a gloved fingertip to his face (almost instinctively reaching for his mouth as if preparing to battle) and delicately touches his cheek, running the leather seam across the tender flesh.Freyr towers above him and steps back, looking almost as shocked as he was at what he'd just done. The only sounds he hears are the ringing in his ear and the sounds of pummeling rain.Heimdall tries to catch the breath that's stuck in his throat, hand reaching back into his pocket for that damned necklace. It skids across the laminated floorboards, slowing to a stop at Freyr's shoes."I went out of my way to get that back for you," Heimdall spits as he reaches for the door handle, hauling himself up. "Maybe I shouldn't have." Freyr's glare is still sharp as he clumsily slides on his sneakers and unlocks the door. Brisingamen twinkles mockingly at him from the ground. Without sparing a second glance back, Heimdall walks into the downpour.He doesn't know where he walks to or why. By the time he returns, all of him is soaked and it's past midnight, the rain having finally stopped. The cold air soothed the burn of the slap.Heimdall doesn't expect Freyr to be in the house afterward. He shouldn't even care, really. When he finds Freyr sleeping peacefully in his bed the morning after, he can't help but wonder why.