The Gates of Asgard

I have a need of silence and of stars. Too much is said too loudly…

“How far can you support someone when they are doing something you know will harm them in the long run?” Heimdall replied with his own question.

“It truly did kill him faster, it seems,” Sif muttered, brow furrowing. Indeed, everything seemed, in retrospect, to have been leading up to Balder’s death. All of the close calls, and all of their shared carelessness.

“I can always listen,” Heimdall said gently to her. “You know that–even if you are far away, it is no strain on my hearing for what you might wish to say.”

Sif nodded, feeling her throat constrict once more. So much for steeling herself. She rubbed at the knot in her forehead, taking in another breath.

“How far can you support someone when they are doing something you know will harm them in the long run?” Heimdall replied with his own question.

“It truly did kill him faster, it seems,” Sif muttered, brow furrowing. Indeed, everything seemed, in retrospect, to have been leading up to Balder’s death. All of the close calls, and all of their shared carelessness.

“I can always listen,” Heimdall said gently to her. “You know that--even if you are far away, it is no strain on my hearing for what you might wish to say.”

“Sif,” Heimdall gentled his voice to her. “Neither your anger nor your words could have caused Balder’s death. It would take far more than one moment of spite to erase the years of support you two shared.”

“How far can you support someone when they are doing something you know will harm them in the long run?” Heimdall replied with his own question.

“I am sorry I could not come away often enough to give it,” Heimdall said in his low, ponderous tone that conveyed the deepest sincerity. “But with how you went about things, I do not believe I would have wished to interfere with the path you set yourself on.”

“I should have been more grateful to him,” she admitted, feeling the weight of what should have been hanging heavy about her shoulders once more. “Instead of encouraging his happiness I…I did everything in my power to deter the match that he’d made for himself…” Sif swallowed against the growing lump in her throat.

“Sif,” Heimdall gentled his voice to her. “Neither your anger nor your words could have caused Balder’s death. It would take far more than one moment of spite to erase the years of support you two shared.”

“They have not been–and were not–grand gestures,” Heimdall attempted to explain. “And they are difficult to be seen when they remain at your side or guarding your back,” he paused in this thumb’s movements, stilling to clasp a little more tightly.

He could have kept an eye, she supposed. This entire time, in fact. Heimdall would be one of the few who could keep a close watch without being close. She wondered what he had thought of her struggle to become what she wanted, who she wanted, to be. Had he stood in the observatory and thought her wrong, as her father had?

“I am sorry I could not come away often enough to give it,” Heimdall said in his low, ponderous tone that conveyed the deepest sincerity. “But with how you went about things, I do not believe I would have wished to interfere with the path you set yourself on.”

“You thought wrong then,” Heimdall gave correction, “on both counts.”

“They have not been--and were not--grand gestures,” Heimdall attempted to explain. “And they are difficult to be seen when they remain at your side or guarding your back,” he paused in this thumb’s movements, stilling to clasp a little more tightly.

“Some warrant more watching than others,” Heimdall gave a small smile. “I know at least that much. I have tried, through these years, to the best of my ability from where I stand here, to do so for you.”

Sif laughed, unable to help herself, the sound thick with tears still. “I did not think you cared to look after me,” she admitted. It sounded harsh even in her ears, but it was the truth.

“You thought wrong then,” Heimdall gave correction, “on both counts.”

Heimdall’s hand closed around hers as her tears fell, and he waited for her cries, allowing them time to form words, for her to dab her eyes. His grip tightened, a slow squeeze.

“Am I not..?” the squeeze at her hand made her feel a little less heavy, and Sif allowed herself to lean into her half brother, her bottom lip sucked up between her teeth. “We have not…known one another very well…”

“Some warrant more watching than others,” Heimdall gave a small smile. “I know at least that much. I have tried, through these years, to the best of my ability from where I stand here, to do so for you.”

“It burns less hot in time,” Heimdall said.

“I tried,” Sif felt broken and useless, like her hands which she had trained to do so much were nothing but clumsy extensions of herself. The heat of Heimdall’s finger near her own set a twitch through the digits, and Sif let herself hesitantly reach out for him. “I tried but…I think I just ruined…another one of my relationships…”

Heimdall’s hand closed around hers as her tears fell, and he waited for her cries, allowing them time to form words, for her to dab her eyes. His grip tightened, a slow squeeze.

Heimdall’s brow shifted only slightly, the greatest mark of his surprise that would show through his trained features. His voice only came afer a long deliberation, a pause for words that came slow and ponderous.

“It burns less hot in time,” Heimdall said.