Pushing Buttons

Compliment

Heimdall didn't need to look into Odin's mind to know he was angry. Though the All-Father seldom let his emotions get the better of him, at least when it came to his own kin. Detecting when something was off had almost become an artform with him.

"Loki is determined to leave."

It was a simple statement spoken amidst note-taking, but Heimdall knew well enough that it was more of an accusation. "Is that so? Then the little traitor finally decided to act on his true intentions."

The old man hummed, quill continuing to scratch along the thick roll of parchment. "Can't blame him I suppose. Family sticks together, especially when one is...insulted." One single eye looked up, staring directly at him. "You uh, wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Heimdall knew this game well. If there was anyone who knew the All-Father best, it was him. Beneath his calm exterior, he was nervous. More than anything, he wanted answers to life's biggest questions. And the key was at risk of slipping away.

"Heh, thought so." Odin smirked knowingly. "Once again, those eyes have rendered your actual brain useless."

He had seen it already—what the All-Father was going to order him to do. But despite his unwavering loyalty, pride reared its ugly head. "But All-Father—"

"You made a mistake, so what." The old man shrugged nonchalantly, "We can't all be perfect, or know when to keep our mouths shut," He muttered the last part, but his voice still retained the authority that he had been endowed with, and he wasn't going to make an exception even for the God of Foresight. "But I still expect you to fix it."

Avoiding eye contact was a rarity for Heimdall. But if there was one person he feared, it was the All-Father. He knew from experience that the king of the Aesir always found a way to deal out punishment, regardless of power or in his case, foresight. "Yes, All-Father."

He felt like a dog running with his tail between his legs. Diplomacy was something he left to his kin. And apologies to mortals was one of the lowest forms of humiliation in his eyes.

But she was predictable, and tracking her down was easy. The door to Baldur's former room had been wide open. She was sitting on the windowsill, leg swinging over the edge and a book in her hand.

A part of him just wanted to hurry up and get it over with. But his pride was strong, and honestly, he couldn't resist the urge to antagonize her a bit before attempting to be...nice.

She didn't bother to look or speak until he was practically leering over her.

"Don't you know how to knock?" She turned the page, eyes steadily glossing over the written text.

"The door was open." He plucked the book from her hands, ignoring her annoyed look.

"And that gives you the excuse to lack common decency?"

He ignored her question, instead looking over the small book she had been reading. "One of Kvasir's poems? Honestly, do you enjoy boring yourself to death?"

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Was there something you needed? Or did you just wake up and say to yourself, 'hey, it's been a while since I picked on the mortal, I should be an absolute pain in her ass today'?"

"Who says that wasn't what I needed from you?" He asked, holding the book out of her reach.

"Little shit."

"Klutz."

"Know-it-all."

"Pathetic damsel." He was smirking already. Try as she might to be the bigger person, she was just like everyone else. Easy to provoke and manipulate.

She glared at him, but ultimately shook her head and caved. "I swear, I grow less intelligent every time I talk to you. It's like trying to reason with a toddler."

"Growing less intelligent is implying that you aren't already at rock bottom, Ditzy."

She rolled her eyes. "It really would kill you to give a compliment, huh?"

"Honesty is more valuable than sweet lies, wouldn't you agree?"

"Who said anything about lying?" Her head inclined to one side, and a single brow raised in confusion. "Not all compliments are lies you know." She moved quickly, snatching the book from his hand and hugging it to her chest.

"Really?" Heimdall gasped, voice dripping heavily with sarcasm, "You're going to enlighten the god of Foresight with that argument?"

"As much as I would love to hurl insults at you, giving you a true and genuine compliment isn't that difficult."

"Well then," He gestured for her to continue, "I await your compliment, Ditzy. And do be aware, I will know if you're lying."

She took a step back, and placed her book on the bed. Then she started to circle him, scrutinizing gaze looking him over from head to toe. "Hm," The hum rumbled in her chest.

It was glaringly obvious that she was going to pay a compliment on his appearance. A fitting subject, he supposed. After all, in addition to his useful gift, he was regarded as the most handsome of his kin.

The floorboards creaked as she came to a halt. Finger tapping her chin, her eyes met his. "I'm sure you get this a lot, but you have very nice hair. Better than anything I could ever hope to accomplish with mine."

As much as he hated to admit it, her words appeared to be honest. He had expected some sort of backhanded or sarcastic comment. But it tickled his ego all the same. "Why thank you, Ditzy. I suppose you're expecting an equally fitting compliment for yourself?"

"Are you capable of giving a genuine compliment?"

Heimdall feigned offense, placing a hand over his chest. "You make it sound as if I'm some sort of heartless and self-absorbed jackass."

"And?" Her arms folded across her chest, "Am I wrong?"

His teasing grin faltered. Her ability to stoop to his level of pettiness was...almost impressive. And while he considered that an honest compliment, he doubted she would see it that way. Shoulders sagging, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "I suppose for the sake of the subject matter and the All-Father's request to be diplomatic..."

She shrank back as he invaded her personal space, though her eyes widened when he placed a hand above her brow and pulled the skin taut. "Beneath those bushes you call eyebrows, your eyes are...rather attractive."

Said brows furrowed, and there was a pause, but she hummed, eyes adrift in thought. "Thank you."