Pushing Buttons

Friends

Nearly every other building in Asgard was a tavern. Then again, with a population that consisted mostly of undead Einherjar, drinking and fighting were really the only two things they knew and loved.

Music played, people drunkenly jeered and laughed, and the mead flowed like honey. Even amongst the drunk and merry, she was out of place. Like a shrinking violet she kept her head down, avoiding any and all eye contact with the drunken warriors around her.

Pint in hand, Heimdall decided to leave his own secluded corner and join her unannounced. So lost in her own head, she didn't even notice him sitting next to her. He debated on saying something, but where was the run in that? Instead, he sat back and patiently waited for her to notice.

The seconds ticked by. But she ultimately glanced to her right, only to do a double take and jump less than two seconds later. "Gah!" Her hand flew to her chest, a glare settling in on what had previously been a stoic face. "Do you always have to give me a heart attack?!"

"It's not my fault that you are so incredibly oblivious and unaware of your surroundings." He countered. The way her cheeks burned and her nose scrunched practically tickled him pink. His jests obtained more reactions than ever from her, and in turn, she didn't hold back.

"A simple, 'hello' would have sufficed."

"But where's the fun in that, Ditzy?"

She sighed at the use of the degrading nickname. "Yeah, fun." Arms folded onto the table, she continued, "Likewise, I've realized that I haven't given you an endearing nickname yet."

"Endearing?" He repeated with a single syllable laugh, "I'm flattered you think a simple pet name constitutes...well, anything above strained diplomacy. And another thing, since when does a scatter-brained wallflower like you find herself in the company of drunkard Einherjar lowlifes?"

"Would you believe me if I said that I actually came for the music?"

"No."

Her lips twitched, but the amused smirk didn't reach her eyes. "It's my attempt at being quote on quote, 'social'," She sighed, "Apparently Atreus wants to make sure that I'm not just twiddling my thumbs when he's not around. 'Make friends,' he said," She gestured towards the drunken warriors, none of which had even bothered so much as to glance her way. "You can see how well that's going."

"I'm green with envy."

Surprisingly, she laughed. Genuinely if his ears served him right. His brow furrowed. An indirect insult at her inability to make normal conversation. "You do realize that wasn't meant to be a joke?"

"I know," She smiled, "Still, that's the most I've laughed in days so...thanks."

"Ugh," He rolled his eyes, fingers tightening around the handle of his drink. A jeer gone wrong usually left a sour taste in his mouth, but strangely enough, it was only just mildly bitter.

"I guess I can hold onto some pride. I did manage to make at least one friend here."

Heimdall raised his drink, relishing in the flood of alcohol that coated his mind in a blissful haze, and washed away any trace of unpleasantries lurking there. "My darling niece hardly constitutes a celebration, Ditzy. She'd befriend a rock if given the chance.

She turned towards him, looking utterly confused. "I...wasn't referring to Thrúd?"

The buzz of the tavern hadn't dulled in the slightest, but Heimdall heard her words just the same. He turned to face her, looking into those deep pools that he knew held countless thoughts and secrets. But all he saw was his own reflection, staring back at him. Mocking him. "Oh no," His lowered voice transitioned into a patronizing chuckle, "Don't tell me that you honestly believe we're friends?"

She shrugged, "Why not? You're the one I talk to the most here. Even if our conversations consist mostly of petty insults, ambiguous flirting, and downright slander, we still listen to one another."

"And you think that alone constitutes friendship?" He laughed, "You're even denser than I thought."

Her brows lifted, "You really don't think the same?" Even she sounded unconvinced.

"So long as you and the half-breed runt continue to aid the All-Father, I'll consider us allies." The Aesir god corrected, "Nothing more."

"Tomayto tomahto," She sighed, pushing away her own untouched pint of mead. She stood, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Regardless, thanks for listening."

The phrase repeated in his head. As much as he wanted to come up with some sort of excuse that he wasn't really listening, he failed to convince himself. Even to a god like him, her hand felt heavy. And the whole thing weighed on his mind. He was Heimdall for crying out loud—God of Foresight and the Herald of Ragnarök. He wasn't popular at parties, he didn't waste his time with conversation that didn't benefit him, and more importantly, he didn't make friends.