Premonitions

Disclaimer: I do not make any money off of this publication nor do I claim any ownership of characters, events and settings resembling the comics or movies used within.

Chapter Eight:

Omniscience

In Asgard there was an idea that Odin the All-Father was an omniscient being. This belief, however, was false. There was only one being that could be close to omniscient in all the nine realms.

Heimdall.

This is not to say that Heimdall knows everything from the beginning of time. He was born as all beings in the universe are. But from his birth there was something that was different, special, in his bones that were not found in any other Asgardian.

His senses were stronger than any Asgardian alive in the present or the past.

They were so strong in fact that from a very young age he could find anyone in Asgard by the sound of stride, their breaths, by the scent of their perfume.

It was horrifying.

It was traumatic.

It was overwhelming.

As a child, Heimdall could not stand what he heard, smelt, saw, and thus his family took their son and placed him into a room with no light, no sound, and little interaction.

This was not an ideal situation for the young boy but it was better than being able to experience every single thing.

Thus, Heimdall existed in a state of solitude for years. He was not happy but he was alive and sane.

It was eight years into his seclusion that he saw someone other than his family.

Heimdall was now twelve when he heard the tread of someone that was not the soft tender steps of his family. There were hard, tempered, a confident tread, and one that was entirely unfamiliar to the young boy.

It was jarring.

It was exhilarating.

When living in silence, whilst comforting, it begins to grate on the nerves just as much as the unending cacophony outside.

Silence is the cruelest kind of comfort.

His door opened. Violent light imploded the synapses in Heimdall's brain; an overabundance of sensations temporarily rendered him deaf, dumb, and mute before the heavy thud of the closing door.

He blinked rapidly, attempting to clear the starbursts from his blown vision. In the time he heard the visitor settle into the settee that his mother would sit quietly in with her tatting to spend time with her son.

A throat cleared. It echoed in Heimdall's brain like a ballista missile. He didn't flinch.

Finally, Hemidall was able to make out the young man that sat before him. There was a single candle lit in the furthest corner of the room shadowing the room in barely seen light. It appeared as dawn to Heimdall.

As he took in the figure's red cloak, hemmed in golden thread recognition blossomed in the boy. Before him stood Prince Vili, the second son of the bloody king Bor, known as Hœnir the Strong. He was a rosy gold complimentary of his father's scarlet coloring and his older brother, Odin's strident hues. He had a stern face, lines and crags already forming on him even though he was still young, young enough that he had not even had his first golden apple.

He quickly stood up and bowed deeply.

"My prince."

Vili snorted at him.

"Get up boy. I don't stand on ceremony except for when there is a ceremony. No needs for this prince business or scraping the ground like you're one of those useless courtiers. I'm a warrior first, and you, you boy are going to be one too."

The hope that bubbled in Heimdall's chest nearly escaped out his throat.

"A warrior?"

The prince nodded.

"Aye, I've heard tales of your abilities. Can you really hear everything in Asgard as the gossip say or is that simply horse shite?"

Heimdall tilted his head, golden eyes narrowing.

"I cannot hear all of Asgard, yet, but I can smell it. Are there truly gossips with nothing better to talk about than the suffering of a boy?"

The prince barked out a loud bray of laughter. The noise stung Heimdall's ears and caused his head to begin to ache but was welcome all the same.

"A gossip will talk you to the grave over the unfortunate death of their neighbor and never realize that you are recently departed."

Heimdall softly laughed. Vili looked over to him and smirked wryly face softening slightly.

"You have an ability that has never been seen before in the history of the nine realms. Because of this I have elected to talk to you. You have a choice. You can either spend your life in seclusion, with silence and darkness or come into the light. If you choose the former, we will have you trained as a scribe and you can still serve Asgard, but in a manner that will be silent. If you pick the latter, you will become a warrior. You will be trained among the brightest of the Aesir to be one of our best warriors."

"Why?"

Heimdall moved slightly closer to the prince, eyes wide.

"Because I feel a war brewing. I go to the edge of the Bifrost and catch glimpses of treachery, of darkness moving in the universe and I fear that it will come to Asgard soon. However, my senses are not as attuned to the whispers that float through the galaxy. But you? You can hear almost all of the sounds in Asgard. You can smell it all. I have no doubt that you would be able to see any shade as it moved in the dark. There is no guardian of the Bifrost even if it is guarded."

Heimdall looked down, eyes shadowed.

"I do not know how I will be able to go to train. It is overwhelming to be among others."

"You will learn. It will be painful, and laborious, and long. But with work you can walk in the sun, you can sit with your friends and family during feasts, you can serve with pride and distinction your people. Are you willing?"

Heimdall looked up at the prince, turned his back, walked to the table that held the candles and slowly, methodically lit the three other candles. He walked back to the prince, eyes squinting and streaming tears down his cheeks.

"I am willing."

It was five years later that the Frost Giants invaded a small world known as Midgard.

Heimdall was too young to go to fight in the battles that ensued but he continued to train with the guards. He was becoming faster, stronger, and although he was behind the rest of the trainees he was still impressive in his own right.

He would train every day, and then he would practice on the Bifrost. He would stand on the edge of the bridge staring down into the abyss of stars and darkness and stretch his hearing to the limits, strain his eyes until they ached.

He may not be there on the battlefield but he witnessed every battle. He saw the bravery of the Midgardians, these small fragile beings that were willing to fight and die along the Aesir to protect their lands. It had happened many times in the history of the realms that when Asgard moved to defend against the great darkness that these folk who were in danger stood behind the proud warriors. Still willing to fight but not willing to be the first to die.

The Midgardians were different. They were willing to be on the front lines, were offended if there was any scouting party, war band, army that did not have them within the ranks. Proud, foolish brave Midgardians.

In the middle of this war Prince Odin found a maiden that captured his imagination. After a short courtship they were wed with the greatest feasting that had been seen in Asgard for a thousand years. It was a day of noise and lights and happiness in the spread of the ice.

Prince Vili had just returned from the field and was only staying for the celebration before returning to the battles raging on the small realm below the golden cities. Prince Vé was going to be joining his brother for the first time whilst Odin spent a small respite with his new bride.

Heimdall did not have the chance to speak with Vili or to meet Vé but he was content that he had the chance to see that the first person who had ever given him a chance was fine.

It seemed as if all was going as well as could be during a war.

Three weeks after the wedding whilst standing on the edge of the Bifrost Heimdall witnessed the fall of Prince Vili. He screamed running towards the palace, garnering the attention of the guards who abandoned their posts to chase the hysterical boy.

Heimdall ran into the throne room skidding along the marble floor to stop before the royal family. The guards stopped short behind him and while they didn't draw their swords laid their hands upon the pommels.

"The Prince. . . the prince. . ."

Heimdall gasped, chest heaving and sorrow tightened its angry grasp around his heart.

King Bor the Bloody leaned forward angrily.

"What boy?! Speak."

Heimdall raised his head and stared his King in the eyes.

"Prince Vili has fallen in battle."

Sharp sudden gasps rent through the chests of all there before the air in the room disappeared. Prince Odin's new bride looked pale in her golden robes. The Queen, standing to the left of the throne sank slowly, gracefully, to her knees, eyes unseeing. The King stares ahead, eyes unfocused, mouth a thin bloodless line in his blood filled face.

"How do you know?"

Heimdall turns to face the disbelieving face of Prince Odin.

"I saw it on the edge of the Bifrost. I've been watching every battle. I watch. I guard."

"You are Heimdall." Odin closed his eyes, hands tightening into firm fists, "My brother spoke of you. And what of Vé? What of my younger brother? He rode with Vili into battle."

Heimdall shook his head. He had not seen the pale gold Prince of Asgard in the fray but that did not mean that he had not been there.

"I did not see him."

A choking wail escaped the Queen's throat.

The King angrily waved his hand at the guards surrounding Heimdall. Some moved back to their posts outside and two others waited in the inner doors of the throne room.

"Here is what you will do boy. You will go back to the Bifrost and search until you find Vé. Do not return until you do so."

Another wave of his arm and the two guards that were waiting moved closer to Heimdall. He nodded and moved back out of the palace followed closely by the guards. He walked to the edge of the Bifrost and stood staring into the abyss, the guards waiting outside the entrance.

Heimdall scanned the battlefield. He watched the survivors collect the bodies of the fallen. He saw the funeral of Prince Vili, a grand funerary ship encased in weapons and gold lit aflame by the surviving Asgardians.

He wept.

It took a fortnight for Heimdall to find Prince Vé. When he did he wished he hadn't. The young Prince had been taken captive by the Frost Giants. What they were doing to the deathly ill Prince turned Heimdall's stomach and made bile rise up his throat. He swallowed it down before staggering out of the Bifrost entrance. The guards at the entrance grabbed him harshly by the arm.

"You aren't to leave until you find the Prince."

Heimdall nodded weakly.

"I found him. Take me to the King."

Heimdall tried to walk towards the palace but his legs weren't working properly. The guards didn't stop though; they grasped him by his upper arms and dragged him to the throne room. When they let him go in front of the throne he collapsed onto the ground in front of the royal family.

The Queen rushed forward before being stopped by the raised hand of the King.

"Well, where is Prince Vé?"

Heimdall stared at the marble in front of the throne.

"Prince Vé has been captured by the Frost Giants, led by their Prince Urgard-Loki. The Prince is in a very dire position. There are on Midgard in the northern most location of the battlegrounds."

Around Heimdall movement began. The King stood and strode out of the throne room waving impatiently and roaring orders. The Queen stood frozen before turning and drifting towards the family wing. Guards were running to and fro with seemingly little direction.

Heimdall stared dully before falling forward.

He awoke later in an unknown room. Panic immediately set into his skin and he froze when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. Before him was the new Princess.

"My lady?"

She smiled sadly at him, her golden skin shimmering in the candlelight.

"You have been unconscious for quite some time, Gatekeeper. Much has happened."

Heimdall tried to raise up but couldn't rise.

"Was the Prince rescued?"

Tears welled up in the Princess' eyes.

"Unfortunately, the Prince was killed by the Frost Giants before he could be rescued. During the ensuing conflict the King was killed. Urgard-Loki was slain as well. Prince Odin is now King of Asgard. Laufey has seized power over the Frost Giants. They have reached peace."

Heimdall stared at her, eyes wide.

"The Dowager Queen?"

The new Queen looked down at her clasped hands.

"She threw herself off the Tower of the King yestermorning. I am the only Queen of Asgard now."

Heimdall stopped trying to get up. He stared blankly at the ornate ceiling above him.

"What shall I do now?"

The Queen glanced at him before looking forward.

"You will regain your strength, you searched too hard, too fast. You pushed yourself and now you must pay the price for that. But then you will return to your post Gatekeeper."

"Why are you calling me that?"

"King Odin decreed that for services rendered to our family you were the Gatekeeper of Asgard. All that wish to do us harm will be seen by you first and will have to go through the most loyal of our soldiers before reaching the innocent."

She smiled slightly before patting him gently on the arm.

"You are the most loyal of us and you may well be the bravest."

She stood smoothing out her dress before walking towards the door.

"What is your name my lady?"

"I am Frigga, daughter of Sigyn, Queen of Asgard. And I am your friend from this day on till the end of days."

She nodded to him before making her way out of the room shutting the door quietly behind her.

Heimdall did not have the heart to tell her that he had not been loyal to the royal family but a single member. And he had died. But, Heimdall thought, he could keep his memory alive by guarding the last remnants of his family.

This is what Heimdall did.

He stood watch over Asgard every day of the war. It spanned from Midgard, to Nifleheim, until the Frost Giants were brought low in their home realm of Jotunheim. He saw the Young King lose an eye in battle, heard the Queen worry over her new pregnancy, and watched as Midgard celebrated the end of the Giant's rule. He heard the songs being sung in honor of the Asgardian soldiers and wept to hear them sing of the sacrifice of Vili and Vé.

The final battle between Asgard and the Frost Giants was fought two years after the new prince's birth. Heimdall watched in dark satisfaction as the Asgardians tore through the Giant's ranks. He frowned as he saw his King pick up a child abandoned in a stone temple. He picked up the blue child and the waif turned into a pale white that he used to see among Midgardians.

The King returned victorious with a new child cradled in his arms. Asgard celebrated the end of the war and a new prince of the realm. The child was called Loki, a subtle reminder of his true heritage or perhaps a snub towards those who birthed him.

The next years were a strange mix of easy and difficult for Heimdall.

Prince Thor adored his new brother and was willing to do anything that he could to help with the infant. The first incident involved picking up the child when he was crying without knowing how to. Heimdall, visiting the palace, had decided to glance at Loki when the child suddenly ceased crying and saw Thor cooing at his brother as he picked him up with both hands around the infant's neck.

Heimdall had never run so fast in his life.

Loki was fine but Thor was inconsolable. The next hours were spent comforting the heir with his mother and teaching him to hold his brother.

The royal family was so pleased with Heimdall that on top of being the Guardian of the Bifrost he was made into an unofficial official babysitter.

There were days when Odin would bring both children to the Bifrost and leave them in Heimdall's hands so that he could teach them about the realms around Asgard. In the beginning the children were only interested in the bright colors that flashed before their eyes. Later however, Loki grew fascinated in the stories from the realms and Thor indulged his brother's interest even if it was obvious to Heimdall that he only cared about the stories involving battles.

Thor was twelve when he asked about the last Great War Asgard participated in.

"Did we really fight the Frost Giants to submission?"

Heimdall hesitated. This was a tender subject to himself and many on Asgard still. The emotional wounds still open and weeping even years past.

Loki looked up from the book that he was reading staring intently waiting for the answer.

That was another reason to approach the subject gently.

"There was a war. It began when the Frost Giants sought to expand their territory on a small realm known as Midgard. They were far behind us in terms of technology so King Bor, your grandfather, decided to lend assistance."

Heimdall glanced over the edge of the Bifrost, gaze landing on the frozen wastes of Jotunheim, the scars of previous conflict clear to his experienced eyes.

"Asgard and Jotunheim had already clashed numerous times. Tensions were high and the Midgardians called out for aid from the stars and King Bor was more than willing to answer. He sent legions to fight the giants pushing them back to their own realm until peace was finally achieved after the deaths of so many."

Thor was watching, disappointed with the quick overview that Heimdall had provided. Loki furrowed his brows thinking.

"What did the Midgardians do?"

Heimdall hummed questioningly.

"After the Asgardian army arrived what did the Midgardians do?"

Heimdall smiled bitterly.

"They refused to let us fight their war for them. They saw the coming of the giants as the invasion it was and refused to not be involved in the defense of their own homelands. They may have needed help but they were not afraid of death. More Midgardians fell in the war than Asgardians or Jotuns."

Thor scoffed.

"They were fools to fight a battle they couldn't win when we could easily win without them."

Heimdall shook his head.

"They were not fools. They were brave warriors fighting to gain time."

"For their families?"

Heimdall nodded at Loki, who had placed down the book he hadn't been reading.

"They bought time for their families to escape with their blood and bodies. And there are those who are mourning them today. Those who will never stop mourning those they loved and lost to the ravages of war."

Thor sat down by his brother expression pensive.

"Did you lose anyone in the war?"

Heimdall looked out eyes glazed.

"Yes."

"Did you love them?"

"Yes."

He blinked when warmth surrounded his waist. The Princes of Asgard had wrapped their arms around him in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry my friend."

When Frigga came for her children later they were both asleep leaning against Heimdall as he sat on the edge of the bridge.

The years slipped by as they always seemed to do for Asgard. The red accents of the city was gradually replaced with gleaming gold and peace created an environment of growth and progress unseen with any rules before. Justice was the credo of Asgard. No longer conquest, strength, or war but justice.

Almost two thousand years had passed before Frigga stormed into the Bifrost Control Room to demand Heimdall find a mortal.

Startled Heimdall asked which mortal he had to find.

"Jane Foster."