"One day I won't have to shovel dirt anymore.", Erik announced with a proud expression on his face as he was pushing the second cart of dirty hay out of the stables.

Sweat beaded from your brow.

The two buckets of gold nuggets you were carrying on your shoulders, tied to a log, were so heavy that you thought your neck would snap at any moment.

"You talk too much.", you gasped, and dumped the first bucket into the magic chest Odin had provided for anything that might be of value.

Some creatures were more magical than others. Some of them had healing powers. When one of the horned serpents lost a horn or shed its skin, the Allfather wanted the remains for his studies.

One of the animals, an enchanted goose, could lay nothing but gold instead of eggs.

Odin was particularly interested in this, and no nugget was to be lost, no matter how small it was.

Erik let out a mocking sound.

"You want to keep living like this for all your life?", he asked, almost amused over the possibility that the answer might have been yes.

Taking a deep breath, you sunk to your knees and wiped away the sweat on your forehead with the back of your hand.

"I'm satisfied the way it is.", you shrugged. "I've got a roof over my head, get paid well and get to care for godly creatures. What more is there to want?"

One of his eyebrows rose.

"Don't you think that's a little pathetic?"

"There's no shame in wanting to do honest work, Erik."

Sighing, he rolled his eyes.

"Gods, you're so modest."

You huffed.

"That sounds like an insult out of your mouth.", you raised a hand to ask him for help.

With a grin, he grabbed it and pulled you back to your feet.

"I just want more.", he said with a shrug.

"And I don't.", you replied. "Let's pray we will both find happiness."

"I don't need to pray.", Erik gave you a pat to the shoulder to get you going again. "I'll make sure fate is on my side."

With an exhausted smile you followed him back to the stables. But you did not get as far as the gate.

Suddenly a dull thud sounded, as if something heavy had fallen from the sky.

For a moment you frowned in confusion.

Then the blue sky was engulfed in a cloud of dust.

A shockwave rushed over your head and tore at everything that was not firmly anchored to the ground. The pressure was so strong that it almost knocked you off your feet.

The wind pushed you.

Desperately, you tried to hold on to Erik, but it didn't work and your back hit the hard wood of a fence. A burning pain chased through your spine.

Gasping, you fell to the ground. It felt like your knees were going to burst open.

"Erik?", you shouted against the storm, one hand raised to shield your eyes. "Are you alright? Erik?!"

Grains of sand and dust hit your face. Your skin began to feel dry.

I'm fine!, he yelled back.

The storm cleared.

Dark outlines appeared.

You could make out Erik.

The shock wave had missed him. He seemed unharmed, even a little defiant about what had happened.

You exhaled in relief.

Next to him, a second figure appeared.

The shadow appeared to be that of a giant, with a slender build and broad shoulders.

But when the veil of brown and dust lifted, a familiar face appeared.

"Fate cannot be manipulated.", Heimdall explained in a matter-of-fact tone. "And if it could be changed, then certainly not by a measly little human like you."

With an appraising glance, the god of foresight looked Erik up and down before his lips curled.

He looked a little disgusted by the sight of a mere peasant.

Erik, on the other hand, could hardly hide the enthusiasm on his face.

"By Odin!", he gasped and reached out without thinking.

His fingers tried to get a touch of those golden embroidered shoulder pads of the god as if the sheer contact would bless him with good fortune.

But the bearer of Gjallarhorn was having none of it.

Smoothly, Heimdall took a step to the side and avoided the hand. In the same breath he wiped his shoulder with a disgusted expression as if he were trying to wipe away dirt, although he had not been touched by the cloud of dust nor anything else.

"Don't.", he warned with a raised finger. "It's hard to get the white to shine this spotless."

At his remark, you had to suppress a snort. But it didn't succeed entirely and a small sound made your nose curl anyways.

Aroused, Heimdall threw a glance over his shoulder.

Magical purple collided with your mortal (E/C). It brightened, as of it tried to consume your mind just by looking at it.

A smirk appeared on the gods clean shaven face.

It was an unusual sight, considering that all of the higher gods preferred to cover the lower parts of their faces with thick beards.

Odin had one, Thor and even Baldur used to tend to his facial hair with pride.

There was a slight shadow visible on Heimdall's face as well, indicating that he wasn't unable to grow a beard himself. He simply must have preferred it clean shaven.

Clean.

Just like the rest of himself.

He was so clean, it almost seemed ridiculous to you.

Dirt, dust and fighting surrounded him at all times of the day and yet he managed to be as clean as if he had never come into contact with anything but himself.

Respectfully, you bowed your head as he approached with an interested expression on his face.

"My lord.", you managed to greet him as his shadow fell upon you.

"Hm...", he squatted down in front of you, his hands resting on his knees. You must be the face from this morning.

He smirked, but his lips did not open. His teeth remained hidden.

The way he smiled seemed off. Not sincere, yet not cold.

It felt rather mocking. As if he looked down on everyone and everything.