Author's Notes

Next Notes Keywords are Heimdall, the Rigsthula, and 9 Sheep

Heimdall is a mysterious character even in the mythology. He is constantly annoyed by Loki and he bedevils Thor, (it's his idea to dress him as a bride.) As a shape shifter he surely is not a true Aesir. Odin is supposed to be his father – possibly in the form of a ram, and his mother 9 sheep associated with waves, which doesn't make a lot of sense, unless you consider the Celtic tradition that the white caps of the waves are called the sheep of the mer-folk, and that they come into the shore in sets of nine. According to Celtic tradition the daughter of Manaanan (top god in Ireland and lord of the mer-people) was tending the sheep and feel asleep on the shore where she was accosted by another deity. Well, we all know what Odin is like.

For purposes of storytelling I've assumed this to be Heimdall's parentage. It would have been natural for him to have been sent to live in his father's domain, but why must he live alone outside the gates of Asgard.

In the Anime version of Loki, Heimdall is desperate to gain Odin's recognition and approval to a fanatical degree. This would also follow if he felt insecure of his position as a result of his parentage. It would also explain why he might have been chosen to return to Ireland or Scotland, in the Rigsthula if his maternal grandfather is Manaanan.

Heimdall's part in the Rigsthula is debated, for purposes of this story I assume it is him, because his part in it is referred to in other established stories. The manuscript, unlike most of the Norse manuscripts in existence, was written in Ireland or Scotland and is not complete. Whatever Heimdall's mission as Rig may have been, Odin obviously takes over because it is Odin who is the patron of nobles and kings. In this story I've taken the liberty to suggest how that might have happened and how Heimdall feels about it.

Other Minor Notes

The story The Ever Living Ones (Celtic Myths and Legends by Peter Berresford Ellis) Describes the origination of the Celtic culture of the British Isles, (which is different than in other places,) and it's arrival in the Isles. The overwhelming amount of similarities between the Children of Danu and pre-Viking Norse are compelling enough for me to believe that they were an offshoot of the Norse and clashed with the native culture, The Children of Domnu. I suspect it is possible that the Danu were the Aesir and the Domnu were the Vanir as history passed into legend.

Shinty is a traditional game in N. Scotland played with a ball and sticks. It's probably the forerunner of modern day hockey although it's often compared to the Irish hurling. It's not really important, but just so the one reference isn't taken as an accidental misspelling of Shinto sticks which would mean quite something else.

Also not really important, I think of Heimdall as being older than his half brother Thor, but younger than Baldor.

In Celtic mythos, green is the color of magic and the fairy world, blue signifies power, often divine.

Thor was, and in many places still is, the most beloved God in Scotland and Ireland.

Celtic Connection

By A. Morgan

Based on the Characters and world of

Mythical Detective Loki & Mythical Detective Loki Ragnarok

Created by Kinoshita Sakura

(Characterization in this story is a mixture of that seen in the Manga and the Anime; I try to refer to both. I love both, but my lack of Japanese skills limits my use of the Manga. I think my Loki is more the Loki of the Manga, my Narugami the version seen in the Anime, and my take on Heimdall somewhere between the two. I can't get Frey right because his Manga and Anime versions are too different. Having him talk in third person like in the Manga was a pain and I don't really like how it turned out.

As for the time line, these events take place immediately after the events of the Anime but before Spica shows up.

I think it starts off a little slow, setting up character norms is a bit of a drag but a necessary evil, still, I think (hope) it gets better as it goes)

Heimdall was alone. He spent most of his time alone, and in many ways he preferred it that way. Force of habit perhaps, from countless centuries watching the gates of Asgard.

Frey's inane schemes provided frequent, if not always welcome distraction, and it wasn't as if he weren't capable of a few good plans of his own.

Most of his plots of late had been aimed at Loki whom he had originally followed to Midgard to kill, but things had changed now, and a displaced god often found himself at loose ends, and alone.

The war might not have been won but the battle, at least for the moment, was over. There was nothing to do but await further orders, when, or if, they ever came. In the meantime this human world was home.

He looked around. It was mid-afternoon and very few people were about. It seemed too early to go home and subject himself to Frey's babbleing, or chance being involved in some mad plot to impress the human girl Mayura, whom Frey had set his heart on.

An open air cafe was just ahead across the street reminding Heimdall that he was hungry. He disliked the idea of eating alone in public, although the usual alternative of watching Frey overindulge wasn't much of a treat either. The problem was that, trapped in the body of a ten year old, he either wound up with a waitress with the maternal instincts of a grizzly bear mistaking him for her cub, or the whole staff would descend on him with the assumption that he was a lost little boy in need of immediate rescue.

When he had assumed this form he hadn't realized how difficult being cute was going to make his life.

It would be far better to simply go home and hope that Frey wasn't waiting for him in expectation of assistance with the latest sale with per person limits. Heimdall had reached his personal limit of hauling large items of produce around town.

Which brought up a point. Frey had spent the entire month's grocery budget on a bargain blow-out of canned asparagus and lychee in syrup.

Somewhere on the far side of starvation canned asparagus might be considered edible, but bearing in mind that canned lychee tasted like armpit odor and smelt like the stuff they put on vomit at the mall, maybe the cafe wasn't such a bad idea.

He chose an isolated table. Even as he sat down he was regretting his decision. The noise the manager was making inside the kitchen berating her employees gave him very little hope. Wishing, for maybe the millionth time since he left Asgard, that his legs weren't too short to reach the ground, he picked up a menu card.

"Good afternoon sir." A waitress must have escaped the verbal tirade inside. It took Heimdall a moment to realize she was talking to him. In this form very few mortals showed him any real respect. It was hard on a god. He looked up. The voice belonged to a pretty girl with dark grey eyes and a pleasant smile. She didn't look like a momma grizzly, and didn't seem set to notify the management that a small child was playing hooky from school.

"Would you like to order?"

"Yes." He said cautiously. "Coffee." He waited for the standard lecture that coffee was not good for growing young boys. When it didn't come he finished his order.

Despite frequent notes of discord coming from the kitchen, Heimdall was pleasantly surprised by the cafe. His coffee remained unobtrusively filled and his thoughts uninterrupted. Mostly his thoughts revolved around recent events. He had been badly mistaken and had acted rashly, though he did not regret his actions based on the knowledge and understanding that he had had at the time. He had failed to impress Odin yet again. This troubled him. Most of his life Heimdall had scrupulously done as he was told in an effort to gain his father's fickle approval. It wasn't always easy to do as he was told, but it was easier than doing nothing, which was where he found himself now.

Well, what was there to do about it? He distracted himself by watching the waitresses scurry around. He was a natural people watcher, although he had not bothered to pay the humans around him much attention before. He'd been busy with higher matters.

He decided that his own waitress was different than the others. She looked a little different, the grey eyes and not quite straight dark brown hair, but there was something else not connected to her appearance that he sensed. Something that didn't quite belong here. He couldn't put his finger on it. Almost a presence he couldn't identify. Truth was, he was tired. He'd been through quite a lot lately, so it was just one more thing that he wasn't going to figure out today.

As he went up to pay the bill at the register the girl appeared beside him.

"Thank you for your business." She said with a slight polite bow. Heimdall nodded then;

"What is your name?" He asked, in his customarily rough tone.

If she felt he was rude she didn't show it.

"Sabishiisora Arashiko." She replied.

"I'm...Kazumi." He introduced himself, not sure why he was bothering.

"Then I hope you will come again Kazumi-kun."

He nodded and went on.