A cool wind brushed your nose.

Tired, you let out a hum.

It smelled of dry hay and animals.

A slight goose bump formed on your arms as you turned your head to the side to escape the feeling of eyes.

Your eyelids were still closed as the feeling of a shadow fell over you.

Frowning in your sleep, you tried to escape the feeling. It felt like part of a nightmare.

But even after you had rolled around a few times, it did not disappear.

All of a sudden there was pressure on your chest. Breathing became difficult. It felt like a rock was about to crush your bones.

A soft gasp escaped your lips.

The pressure increased.

Drunk on sleep, you managed to open one eye.

The outline of a man appeared in the night, tall and slender. He had his foot pressed directly on your lungs.

You frowned in confusion.

"Erik?", you asked and tried to reach up.

But the man pulled back to escape your touch.

All at once, fresh air rushed into your body.

Greedily you gasped to be able to breathe properly again. The lack of oxygen made your head go light.

Heat made your cheeks sweaty.

"Ha, what a sight!", a smug voice chuckled, filled with dripping sarcasm. "The goodhearted saint is sleeping because everyone drives them into exhaustion. Doesn't pay off to be such a goodie goodie, does it?"

Still trapped in half-sleep, you frowned.

With narrowed eyes and one hand raised to shield your eyes from the milky light of the lanterns.

"Lord Heimdall?", you asked.

The figure leaned into the light, both hands on his hips.

Golden hair appeared, together with eyes so magical that you were suddenly wide awake.

Suddenly you were sitting upright in the haystack, a few stalks of straw hanging out of your (H/C) hair, staring at the god with wide eyes.

"What are you doing here?", you asked and fished a stalk out of your shirt, which pricked your skin.

With a disgusted expression Heimdall looked at your soiled face.

"I wanted to see the tragedy with my own eyes.", he smirked and folded his arms in front of his chest.

With a sigh, you sat up, smoothed out your clothes and reached into your pouch to pull out some food.

Hunger plagued you.

Out came an apple, unevenly round, but as plump and red as you had ever seen it.

Heimdall's attention was caught by the fruit. One of his eyebrows rose as he watched you draw your knife and cut two perfectly equal halves.

Without looking up from your half, you took the second and offered it to him.

His lips opened in surprise. He had not expected you to show him kindness.

It took a moment for his glowing eyes to look at the fruit. It seemed as if he had the urge to reach out and take it.

But instead he crossed his arms even more, put his hands under his armpits and shrugged his shoulders.

Then his face twisted.

"I don't need a handout.", Heimdall said and raised his chin.

Your eyes looked up between your brows to regard him.

He met your gaze and a snide expression.

Without a word, you offered him the apple more forcefully.

His eyebrows drew together. A hint of anger was visible on his flawless face.

But it quickly dissipated. A breath later he seemed confused.

His lips moved to release a growl.

Suddenly his hand jumped forward and snatched half the fruit with such force that a tingling pain chased through your fingers.

You did not move your face, nor did you look at him reproachfully as you shook your hand in the air to get rid of the pain.

Without a care of what he had done, he dug into the apple. Juice gushed out and ran down the side of his mouth to his chin, where he wiped it all away with his sleeve, almost in disgust.

Shrouded in silence, the two of you stood facing each other while each ate half of their apple.

While you ate everything, from the peel to the seeds and the core, Heimdall left everything that was not juicy and threw the remains to his mount.

In one bite, Gulltoppr devoured the core.

"You are feeding him fat.", growled the god as his gaze wandered to the floor of the box where some of the calf's bones still remained.

"Your steed is undernourished.", you remarked, without reproaching him.

Out of the corner of his eye he gave you a look that was neither enthusiastic nor friendly.

"Don't criticise me.", he hissed.

"I'm not."

"Then I didn't ask for your opinion either."

"It's not an opinion, my lord, it's a fact."

A twitch chased through his face. Shadows appeared in those pink eyes, sparkling like gems.

With one hand on his sword, Heimdall turned around and looked you up and down. He seemed to do this often, at least it felt like he was taking a special interest in you.

But there was still the question of what it was he was looking for.

When he didn't find it, his eyebrows drew together in an irritated way and he moved closer.

Heimdall was not one of the gods one could call threatening.

The texture of his eyes had the beauty of flowers in spring and his face was visually gentle that it could almost have been called handsome.

No, his appearance was nothing to be feared.

But the way he acted, his words as sharp as knives, gave a glimpse of what lurked beneath that beautiful exterior.

He could be a monster, as his brothers were said to be.

And you were very close to experiencing it yourself.

"You have a big mouth. Know everything better.", he stepped so close to you that the shadow of his body swallowed you up. "You have to correct me all the time. Even thought we do not know each other. And yet, in your opinion, I am not a good master for Gulltoppr."

His face stopped just a hand's breadth from yours. Anger burned in his eyes.

A deep breath escaped your nose.

"Lord Heimdall.", you gave him a kind, honest smile. "Have you ever thought that my words are not criticism, but I only wish to help you?"