Lost in thought, you grabbed some fruit from the bag and began to slice it with the knife. Sticky juice splashed up as the peel broke and tender flesh appeared underneath.

Some of the splatter landed on your face.

You didn't bother to wipe it away. Your hands were already all sticky anyway. If a moment presented itself, you would just use a bucket of water and wash it all off together in one go.

Your thoughts revolved around the Aesir god. It was not Heimdall per se who had so captivated you, but his eyes.

It was as if the magical violet appeared before you in the darkness whenever you closed your eyes.

Was that magic?

A curse perhaps?

Maybe he didn't like you looking at him so directly.

His expression had not been a friendly one. Then again, none of the gods were known for kindness. Probably that had just been his face, without showing any emotion.

A deep sigh escaped your lips.

"Gods...", you rubbed your forehead to get rid of the small ache that pressed against it. "No, this is a good day. Don't ruin it yourself."

Before you could get lost in your worries, a loud noise sounded.

Hooves banged against the wooden door of one of the boxes. Then there was the sound of metal being struck.

"Sleipnir!", you approached the black steed with a chuckle. You are impatient today. "Did Erik forget to feed you last night?"

An approving sound came from the horse. Its head rose and fell as if it were trying to nod.

With a smirk you sighed and shook your head while your hand offered the animal half an orange.

You loved Erik, but he didn't do his job of looking after the mounts of the gods very well. Thanks to his muscles he was fast at cleaning and tidying up, but when it came to feeding and caring he had two left hands.

He often forgot to feed the animals after you left, and if he did, they got the wrong one. Once he had tried to feed Sleipnir the cow that had been meant for Baldur's dragon at the time.

The eight-legged horse had hated it.

The dragon, on the other hand, had been happy about the many wagonloads of fruit.

You pulled another fruit out of the bag and offered it in one piece.

Without hesitation, Odin's mount accepted the offer, took it with its lips and began to devour it all in one piece.

You have to chew, you reminded it, and began to scratch the raven black nose with your fingernails.

Dust and sweat gathered in black rims between skin and nail. But you didn't mind, after all, this was a dirty job.

The smell of horse rose to your nose, mixed with the warmth of animals and overused hay.

It smelled dirty. More dirty than stables usually did.

A dark thought crossed your mind.

Erik had not yet started cleaning the stables, although he should have been finished by this time of the day.

You glanced into Sleipnir's stall.

The floor was clean and the hay freshly replaced. A sack of fresh green grass hung from the wooden ceiling and crystal clear water bubbled from a magical fountain in the corner.

Relieved, you let out a breath.

At least he had been clever enough to look after the Allfather's horse.

The other animals could wait, there were excuses for them.

But if anyone learned that the Allfather's mount was standing in its own filth, heads would roll. There was no excuse for neglecting Sleipnir.

No one would believe the excuses. And you didn't want to take the chance of having to explain it to Odin himself.

The sound of heavy doors being opened filled the quiet stillness.

Footsteps sounded. The way they made the ground shake indicated that someone was mad. Or at least upset.

"Erik, can you help me clean the other stalls?", you grabbed a broom to have something to defend yourself with before you dared to enter the stall of a winged serpent.

For some reason, the All-Father allowed the other gods to keep not only their mounts in his stable, but also other creatures they deemed worthy.

Many of them were exotic creatures, from water horses to two headed wolves or even trolls.

But the most wondrous thing you had ever seen was the dragon that Baldur had flown to Asgard one day.

It had been a wonderful animal, so powerful and majestic that it would have been worthy of Odin.

But when the news of Baldur's death spread, the dragon had also disappeared. Perhaps it had fought its way back to freedom.

"Easy, my girl...", you murmured as the serpent's glassy eyes turned to you. "I just want to clean everything up. Why don't you go outside in the cage for so long?"

With fingers trembling with tension, you dared to stroke one of the white wings that waved lightly in the air.

A long, thin tongue shot out between two pointed fangs while the snake made a hissing sound.

The long, green-scaled tail rose into the air to wrap itself around your outstretched arm.

With a stare, the snake raised its head to look at you.

Slowly, as to not encourage stress, you put the broom against the wall and dared to put your hand under its chin.

"Your scales are all dry.", you noticed, and dipped your hand into the bowl of water that stood ready to drink from. "Here. A little moisture. So that your scales don't break."

Like a misshaped dog, the serpent closed its eyes and began to enjoy the moist touch of your hand on its shimmering scales, while a few hissing sounds rang out again and again.

"Good girl.", you smiled and opened the door that led into the outside cage. "Now get some air."

"You're weird, you know that?", Erik's voice suddenly said behind you.

With a shrug and a smile, you locked the door so that the serpent couldn't get back in, and started to get to work.

"And you forgot to tend to her.", you glanced at him. "Again."