"Gatekeeper."
Turning, Heimdall found the first surprise in memory. The last Valkyrie, smeared with the lifeblood of sisters, lovers. Who must have turned after his gaze had passed from her; who should have been realms away, yet stood before him.
She might have drawn her sword. Instead, she raised her eyes to meet his.
"I'm leaving."
"So it seems."
"Come with me."
"...I cannot."
"Can't you, though?"
Heimdall turned, found another surprise within. Without an invitation, he might have remained forever. With one...
That night, the Bifrost fell quiet.
Realms away, they shared drinks together, the first night of many.
*
Val thought she'd have liked Sakaar under other circumstances. If drinking had been the only thing she'd had to be concerned about. If the past hadn't been following her around.
Even though he didn't talk about it, he was nearly always looking at it. Mostly, she didn't want to know, but sometimes she got bored of the drinking.
"How's Hela?" she asked, one of those times.
"She's coming."
"What, for us?"
A century back, it'd have been a terrifying thought. Now, though...
Heimdall grinned, slung the Bifrost Sword across his back. "Slowly, at least."
"...Want to kill her?"
"Oh, yes."
*
"What's next?" the Valkyrie asked. The blood she was smeared with this time was black. Like tar, or corruption, but more easily washed out than either.
"I don't know."
"Yeah. Kind of figured we were going to die, doing this."
"As did I."
"How's Asgard?"
Heimdall looked, found the event he'd anticipated these past few months had now transpired.
"Odin has a son."
"What, already?"
"I suspect he planted him before now."
"Heh. We'll have to keep an eye out."
"Yes."
In Asgard, the new infant wailed.
Elsewhere, others watched, waited, planned for if (when) it all went wrong again.