You'd been living in Asgard most of your life. You grew used to living in solitude. The Sons of Odin weren't all too friendly. Tyr was nice when he was around, Baldur was a bully, and Thor tolerated you. Heimdall avoided you for the most part. You were out for a walk today, even though Heimdall often insisted against it. He worried that he'd hate to tell Odin that his golden goose was tampered with, but you doubted anyone cared enough to bother you... You were wrong. Ruffians had jumped you on the street and in the midst of it all you'd heard a sword. Heimdall stood over you with a stare that sent the group scrambling without another word. He sheathed his sword and turned to you.

"You're just a little trouble magnet, aren't you?" He scoffed. "Come on. You're injured."