(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)
Heimdall was always watching over Odin, but one day he decided, 'fuck it, I'm tired of looking at Grumpy Cat' and instead he watched Sif and the Warriors Three spar. He really liked looking at Fandral.
So he didn't notice when a lazy stablehand (you just can't get good serfs this millennia) didn't curry Sleipner's back. You couldn't really blame a horse for bucking when a chunky god-king plopped his ass down into the saddle and drove a burr in. It was one of those really spiky ones.
Eight hooves made short work of Odin.
Heimdall went to the Norns to apologize for messing up the future. They said, "Eh, whatever. Roll with it."
Frigga smiled enigmatically when given the news, and went to inform her stepsons of the terrible, terrible tragedy. After lunch. "Thor, darling," she said after they finished dessert, "did you notice that your father didn't come to lunch?"
"Indeed, I did, mother!" Thor boomed.
Frigga winced. "Indoor voice, Thor, please."
"Sorry," Thor boomed a little quieter. Loki rolled his eyes.
"Yes, I'm afraid Odin had a little accident. He's dead." Frigga patted at her lips and frowned. Blueberry pie always stained.
Thor frowned, in deep thought.
"Oh, and Loki is adopted," Frigga added, figuring that now that she had Thor's attention it was as good a time as any to get that off her chest. Really stupid to keep that a secret, they didn't look even remotely alike. "He's actually a frost-giant Odin picked up for a souvenir after the last battle."
Thor brightened. "Does this mean I am king?" He was sometimes a little slow on the upshot.
"Yes, Thor," Frigga said patiently, thanking her lucky stars she wasn't born an Asgardian, so she had the option of going home if Thor screwed things up.
Loki pouted. Thor reached over and patted him on the hand. "Did you hear, Lokes? You're adopted!"
Loki snarled. "Way to rub it in, Thors."
"Do you know what that means? We can marry!"
Loki sat up, wide-eyed. And then he slumped. "I don't want to be queen. It's bad enough they make fun of me for having 'girls' magic'."
Thor frowned again, thinking really, really hard. "I know! We can both be king! I shall be Battle King! And you can be king of all that sticky diplomacy stuff and all the paperwork."
Loki blinked, and smiled slowly. "Thors!" He held out his arms. Thor grabbed Loki and hugged him back, hard. Frigga decided she could wait to pack, maybe the two of them would balance out to make one decent king.
"THOR! LOKI!" Frigga scolded. "Midgardians are delicate! You don't pick them up by their heads!"
"Sorry, Mom," Thor and Loki chorused. They sheepishly put down the bunnies they were picking up by the ears. "We'll remember."
Since the co-kings didn't want Heimdall to watch them co-habit, he spent more time looking around the multiverse. There was a big jawed purple guy who snoozed in a chair, muttering to himself about 'when is someone going to drop into the void', but that was boring.
Midgardians were tiny, but at least they MOVED. Heimdall watched them like a little boy with an Uncle Milton's Ant Farm. SHIELD was amusing, like a black ant nest invaded by red ants. Only real ants were smart enough to recognize hostile ants.
He felt professionally insulted when one of the ants claimed to be able to judge another one's worthiness for battle because she'd sneaked into his house and watched him get drunk. The drunk ant was dying, and he wanted to go out drunk and fighting, which made perfect sense to Heimdall, that was how most Asgardians died, except for, you know, Odin.
So Heimdall tripped down the rainbow bridge to have a word with the spy ant's master. Just for fun. "I am HEIMDALL," he announced, brandishing his golden sword and blinking his golden eyes around the laughably primitive flying boat. "I see all, and I am not impressed."
"Get that mother-fucking alien off my helicarrier," an eyepatched man said, striding forward to glare at Heimdall.
Heimdall leaned the tip of his sword down to touch the deck. "Odin gave his eye in exchange for wisdom. What did you get for yours?" He casually flipped his sword back to stab one of the 'red ants'. "You are riddled with these Hydra vermin, and you assess a master crafter smith as unworthy, on the word of a proven turncoat?" Heimdall shook his head. "Whatever you traded for your eye, you ought to ask for a refund."
And then Heimdall left, laughing to himself, because stirring up ants' nests was great fun.
After a year or so of nothing exciting happening, Steve Rogers enlisted in the War College on the G.I.Bill, because he finally had time enough to learn how to be an officer, instead of having to depend on the Howling Commandoes' experience. Turns out, once he buckled down and studied, it wasn't all that hard to look at any situation logically and following the proper procedures made it a heck of a lot easier to lead the team Fury eventually formed, after rooting out all the Hydra.
When Romanova unearthed the paperwork on Hydra's Winter Soldier, and Rogers discovered it was his old friend, and that, among others, Bucky had killed Tony Stark's parents, it had been tempting to keep his mouth shut, but there were some secrets that you just didn't keep from your team.
So he manned up and went to Tony. "Tony, I have something to tell you. Please, sit down."
Tony sat, reluctantly. "What?"
"Your parents were murdered by Hydra." And then he told Tony the rest.
"So," Thor asked Heimdall one day, while lounging around the throne room, eating a roast turkey leg while Loki discussed the possibility of adopting a Frost Giant baby. Thor was all for it. Loki had been the cutest little blue baby. "What's new?"
"I have a new glove," Heimdall said with pleasure. "That Midgardian smith I befriended made it for me. I picked up the decorations myself, here and there."
"It's a bit gaudy, isn't it?" Loki said, looking up from a stack of photos of cute little blue babies.
Heimdall looked down at his hand, and the six different colored stones set in the glove he was wearing. "Oh, I like it. It goes with all my outfits."
Thor nodded. "It's an Infinity Wardrobe Glove!"
Heimdall frowned. "It needs a better name."