Burdened

Part 1 of many to come. All credit goes to McCol D. Iles (MD Iles and believeinsherlock_cumberbatch) and sherlockfanart on Instagram. No stealing please and tell me what you think. I am open to critique!

Here are some terms I use in this Part. Ask me if there are any other terms/names that need clarification.

Heimdallr= son of Odin …

AEsir= a 'god' of Asgard

Skraeling= foreigner

Midgard/Midgardian= Earth/a person from Earth

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BURDENED: Skraeling

"All Father." announced Heimdallr. The AEsir strides into Odin's bedchambers, clad in intricate gold and bronze armour, his right arm crossed over his chest, the bronze bracer on it glinting in the rooms light. Odin looked up from his spot at his desk where he had been bent over several ancient looking papers seconds beforehand. A smile crosses his lips under his greying beard as he takes in the warrior state of his son, his armour and brown cloth encasing him majestically. Heimdallr held his helmet in the crook of his left arm, lowering his right off of his chest as the All Father rose from his desk chair, his embroidered brown and cream robes falling about him elegantly. He extended his arms towards his son in welcome, the smile still upon his face. Heimdallr stepped towards him and they grasped each other for a moment before breaking away; the older mans face now rid of fatherly intent, the visage of a ruler now flooding his features.

"What is it, my son?" he asks, his golden eye patch glinting in the chamber lights.

Heimdall straightens even further and opens his mouth to describe the events that had just happened on their soil, the entering of a foreigner by uncertain and dangerous means.

A man of midgardian blood and traits, but one of god-like strengths in physique and intellect has fallen into Asgard. The foreigner, Skraeling, is of cunning and brutal nature, not unwilling to break bone in a moments notice and fully capable of it. He is a dangerous man to be around, for he can draw you in with utter charm and fascination of his intellect, and then silence you with the agility of a panther, his bare hands squeezing the very breath from your lungs.

This man had come from above, tumbling through the star dotted, light blue and magenta midday sky in a metal ship before kissing the ground in an earth shaking collision. Heimdallr had witnessed its fiery descent and had turned his all seeing eye upon the craft, of such shape and size that it was clearly meant for speed and stealth. He watched in disbelief as a man emerged from the smoking, mangled structure, nearly unscathed though obviously out of sorts as he slowly untangled himself from its belly. He had crash landed in a field of short wild grass a few miles or so away from the Bifrost at which Heimdallr stood and was now already beginning to assess his craft and the land around him.

Alerting his guard, Heimdallr and his men hurried towards the palace, informing the nearest AEsir warrior, Thor, who they had come across in the Great Hall, courting a young woman: Lady Sif. After a few moments talk, Heimdallr and the guard of ten jogged off towards the site as Thor bounded towards the armoury- as he had neglected to put on his armour that day and was wearing his simple red tunic and trousers- leaving behind a confused and irritated warrior woman. She sighed exasperatedly, walking towards the armoury as well, knowing they would most likely need her as they so frequently forgot.

As Thor sprinted through the halls, his feet slapping the seamless floor and torches aflame on the walls, lighting the windowless hallways, one of the doors opened and out stepped his brother: Prince Loki. He was clad in his usual low cut green and black tunic, embroidered with gold, its length falling down to his mid thigh where his black trousers took over. His slicked raven hair had grown long and touched his shoulders now.