Years after my brother, father, and I came to live among the Aesir, and exchange ways with them, I began to see that the Great War between our people was planned. It was planned to bring us there, to live among them. It was planned most importantly so Odin could learn the magic of my people, that I knew as well as Gullveig, but unlike her, was willing to teach.

Odin, who was known in those days as Ygg, was already skilled in magic and had been since his youth. He routinely traveled the Worlds seeking wisdom from different people. He gave an eye to Mimir so Mimir would speak of what he knew, after Odin preserved his head that my father had hewed with his axe. Odin was called “Terrible” for a reason, for he was terrible in knowledge and power, and always planning to further in these things.

I taught Odin magic, the Vanir kind of magic. It was one more skill added to his repertoire, but Odin did tell me in the privacy of our training sessions that he had seen few equal to his power, and considered me such an equal. Despite that I resented some of his policies and particularly the plotting and scheming that ripped me apart from my homeworld, I also developed a grudging respect for him. And lust.

In the days when he was called Ygg, Odin oozed sex. A dangerous, wolfish kind of sexuality. There was darkness within him, a shadowy sort that I had only seen before in my beloved Oðr. His mind was the most erotic part of him. He was always thinking things. He was not what anyone would call shallow. He felt things deeply, high joys, fierce rages, and hungry sorrows. He was good with words, especially when he wanted to seduce with them.

When his son died, Ygg grew quiet. I stopped being able to see inside his mind, to feel inside his heart. We did not make love as much. He did not come to me for magical lessons anymore. He stopped eating, and gave most of his food to his wolves. I knew he was plotting something, but it was so private and deep that I myself could not see it within him.

There was a lot of sorrow after the death of Baldur, but sorrow quickly gave way to anger. Frigga was seen as doing all she could have done to prevent her son's death. Odin, on the other hand, was seen as having done nothing, when he was regarded as being the more powerful of the two (although I personally wouldn't want to be on Frigga's bad side... she knows more than she lets on). Sorrow gave way to anger, and despite the efforts of my father and brother to make peace, soon the people of Asgard were calling for Ygg to be deposed.

My uncle Ullr was elected by Asgard to rule in Ygg's place. This surprised us all. He was the Wild Vane, the lord of the forest. He answered to no one, and did not even stay strictly in Vanaheim. He was one of us, but wilder. And yet his neutrality seemed to make him the right man for the job, while Ygg was gone.

I saw Ygg while he was packing some of his belongings. Before I could stop myself, I embraced him. That was when he let me see into his mind, after the long silence.

I'll be back, he said, inside my mind. I'll be gone for awhile, but you know what I have to do.

Images ran through my mind, of the lessons we had, and the power Ygg had been building up within himself.

I have to do this, Ygg said, inside my mind. This is our last hope.

I saw the Tree itself, and all the Worlds whirling in its branches. I saw the power building up within Ygg, raising through a cord, tied to the tree. The power generating within his energy centers, the seething.

Be careful, I told him. You may be my best student, but you will be as dead as your son if you fail.

If I fail, Ygg said inside my mind, we will all be as dead as my son.




With Ullr in charge of Asgard, things were different. The first thing Ullr did was change how sacrifices were made. While human sacrifice was previously commonplace, Ullr asked the people of Middle-Earth to make offerings of animals instead. That, of course, did not stop my mother from receiving human souls to herself, but she was not under Aesir law.

While I admittedly liked having one of my own people now in charge of Asgard, and I had a much freer reign of where I could spend my time throughout the year, I missed Ygg. Damned if I didn't miss him. I missed the lessons, our conversations, and the lovemaking. I grew moist at the thought of him, and would find willing people in Middle-Earth with whom to sate myself. I took a man named Ottar as my husband, who was particularly devoted to me, and was the closest I had found to Ygg and Oðr both in personality and appearance. As one reward for his devotion, I took him to see the giantess Hyndla with regards to his bloodlines. I hated the old hag, but she was the only one who could see them, and he needed the information.

It is still hard to believe that ten years passed without Ygg ruling Asgard, no doubt wandering the worlds seeking more wisdom. Ullr was a fair ruler, but over time the Aesir began to think him lax on certain issues, particularly the conflict between the Aesir and Jotnar. Ullr's neutrality, which had previously gained him favor, was now beginning to cause displeasure and strife.

I decided to stay out of politics. I busied myself with my humans, and spent time with family members that I had little time with when most of my time was at Folkvang. I visited my great-aunt Gullveig, who had been living in exile since being burned by the Aesir. I visited my grandfather Frodi, and helped him in his orchards as he told me stories of our people. I drank the sweet waters of Vanaheim and slept in beds of flowers. I danced with the butterflies and ran with the deer.

And yet, as happy as I was to spend more time at home, my heart ached for Ygg. I thought I was done, when Oðr disappeared from my life, all those years ago. I wanted to be done just before Baldur died. After his death, I kept living, kept trying, but I had resigned myself to never feeling... that way... again. Yet Ygg stirred something within me, that I thought was dead, incapable of being felt again. If anything, the longing was more deep than that for Oðr. I knew I would never see Oðr again. I knew that even with whatever crazy thing Ygg was doing, he knew what he was doing, and he would be back. I awaited his return. I wondered how things would be different, between us. I wanted him back in my life, to share my bed.

To share my life.

Of course, Ygg was already married, to Frigga, and he had plenty of other women on the side. I was just his teacher, a convenient tool. I was foolish for thinking there would be something more. After all, I knew what it was like to use others for sex.

But I dared to hope. To hope for his return, and to be whatever I could be to him, no matter how small.

I hated him sometimes, but the hatred and conflict just whet my appetite for more.

My brother and I lay together underneath the pole at the high spring festival to give our pleasure and fertility to the Land and the Worlds, and as I came I saw the Web shifting, darkness becoming light becoming darkness, and then a ripple of what I can only describe as shadowy light, dark fire, becoming a current and moving through the entire Web. I watched in awe, as the throbbing ebbed and flowed through me into the ground, I knew something important had happened, but did not know what.

I returned from Vanaheim at just the right time to see a stranger on the road, wearing a floppy hat flopping over one eye, and a long, dark cloak. He seemed to be aged, and needed assistance from a gnarled tree branch to walk. I asked him if he would like me to see him home safely, and he smiled at me.

It was Ygg. I threw my arms around him, embracing him.

Even as he had left Asgard on bad terms ten years before, a feast was held in his honor, and Ullr agreed to go back to Vanaheim. Ygg was now calling himself Odin, or Fury. There was a certain madness in his eye, causing it to blaze like fire. I wanted to see what had happened to him. He spoke very little of things while he was away, only answering questions with, “I got around,” and a sly smile.

The drinking and carrying on was still going on after Mani took his ride through the Asgard skies, but I felt exhausted, and decided to retire to my hall. As I excused myself and got out the door, Odin came up from behind me, covering my eyes.

“I have something for your eyes alone,” Odin told me, “if you'll come with me.”




I went with Odin to his chamber, nervous and excited at the same time. He pulled a small cloth bag out of his belt pouch, a gleeful grin on his face. Since his face rarely ever betrayed his emotions, I watched with wonder.

He lay a small white cloth on his bed, and then shook out the contents of the bag. They were small round circles of wood.

I didn't understand, and frowned.

Odin pointed at the circles, and I saw symbols cut into the wood, stained red. I reached out to touch one, and Odin pushed my hand back, slightly.

“I will give them to you,” Odin said, “and your people, in exchange for what you have taught me. I won these for all, but each tribe has a different path to them.”

I frowned again, still not understanding.

“These are Runa,” Odin said, “Mysteries. Symbols representing the forces of Wyrd, sounds ancient as time itself. Each sound calls the symbol into power. The power moves along the threads itself. A word leads to a word. A deed leads to another deed.”

“It is magic,” I said, to be sure I understood.

“It is great magic,” Odin said. “I hung myself from the World Tree, giving myself to the Tree, opening myself to what it would give in return, to save us. Baldur's death is not just sad because it is my beloved son. A great light has gone out from the worlds, and we are all in danger.” Odin scowled. “I saw it with my eyes, both the one I have and the one in the Well of Mimir.”

A chill crept over me, even though a fire was burning in the hearth and Odin's room was quite warm from it.

“On the ninth day,” Odin said, “something happened. There was a quaking, and I saw Ginnungagap itself open, with the symbols rising up into the air. Burned into my mind. I was able to take some wood from the World Tree itself and carve the Runa. My assistant, Loddfafnir, was there to help me come down, and take care of me. I spoke to him, first, and gave him the knowledge as payment for his service through all of this.”

I nodded, I had not met Loddfafnir but knew he was an important “behind the scenes” man in Asgard.

“I will give them to the tribes of Old Ones first,” Odin said, “and then my son Heimdall will give them to the people of Middle-Earth. Your tribe is first, for the help given and power exchanged.”

I smiled. “A gift for a gift, then.”

“This is quite a gift,” Odin said, “and I trust your people will use it well.”

The chill deepened; it was as my blood had frozen and been replaced with ice. A wave of terror washed over me, but my curiosity compelled me to stay, and be given the gift.

“Each tribe gets eighteen of the same Runa,” Odin said, “and then the remaining Runa will differ from race to race. The people of Middle-Earth will not have the same Runa as your folk, nor your folk have the same Runa as the giants nor they the same as the elves nor they the same as the dwarves. If you choose to share the Van-Runa with men, only choose a select few among men to preserve the mystery, or the power is cheapened that way.”

I couldn't speak, so I nodded.

Odin gestured. “Sit upon Hlidskjalf, your seiðr will help make this go more easily.”

We went into the deepest chamber of Odin's, where Hlidskjalf sat, on a high pedestal. To sit on this seat was to look at all the worlds, and observe the activity within. It was helpful for looking at individual charges, and lending strength to help – or to curse, in the case of those who deserved it.

I sat on the seat, and Odin began to sing the ward-locks in his rich baritone. The seething began in my toes, trembling in my slippers, moving up to my ankles, into my calves, and my knees knocking against each other. My hands shook, the power building in my hands and radiating upward into my arms. My head rolled around uncontrollably, as my mind opened and the Sight filled my eyes. I looked ahead of me, expecting the threads to carry me out of Asgard's sky and look upon the Nine Worlds, but instead I saw the same vision I saw at the spring festival, of dark fire rippling and moving down the threads like a tide.

The first symbol came, rising from the dark fire, a deer with great antlers, running through the forest, a cow with great horns munching on fields. Odin sang:

Help the first is called,
for that will help thee
against strifes and cares.

The deer ran freely, nothing holding it back. I saw my brother wielding an antler it had dropped. The cow lived a good life, and was given to slaughter, to feed a family as its young grazed in the field.

The seething intensified, I felt myself become the deer, become the cow, horns of fire raising out of my head, reaching up and touching the highest branches of the World Tree itself. Odin sang again:

For the second I know,
what the sons of men require,
who will as leeches live.

The horns went away, and I saw the fields ploughed by the oxen, growing herbs, picked by healer's hands, applied as a poultice and made into potions. I saw the healer drawing up strength from the Earth itself, putting roots into the ground and becoming as a tree, drawing up power from the soil and the ground. The shape of the field burned into their soul. I saw the shape of the field burned into my eyes.

Odin sang again:

For the third I know,
if I have great need
to restrain my foes,
the weapons’ edge I deaden:
of my adversaries
nor arms nor wiles harm aught.

I saw a rose, perfect in its beauty, protected by thorns on its stem. I saw a hedge of thorns, and saw a knife forged of iron, cutting foes seen and unseen. I saw the voice being used as a weapon itself, a war-cry to fill enemies with terror. Arrows from elves, shooting those who would harm the land. I felt one of the arrows pierce my heart, but to give me the shape told in his song.

Odin sang again:

For the fourth I know,
if men place
bonds on my limbs,
I so sing
that I can walk;
the fetter starts from my feet,
and the manacle from my hands.

I saw ropes and chains fall down, songs of joy and heads held high, songs of strength and working hands. I saw the Gods speaking through man, and man listening to the songs of trees and singing them to the world. The great ash dropped branches that became runes, and I was struck by a branch that filled me with its power.

Odin sang again:

For the fifth I know,
I see a shot from a hostile hand,
a shaft flying amid the host,
so swift it cannot fly
that I cannot arrest it,
if only I get sight of it.

I saw my chariot, pulled by cats, and my brother's wain pulled by his boar. I saw magic and strife stirred against our charges, and us moving it out of the way, pushing it away from their threads as a wain would move down a dirt road. The wain carried me to the next song, as Odin sang:

For the sixth I know,
if one wounds me
with a green tree’s roots;
also if a man
declares hatred to me,
harm shall consume them sooner than me.

I saw an effigy burning in a fire, and the fire consuming the faceless man for whom the effigy was made. I saw the threads of his Wyrd burning so that he could not escape from the flames, and was charred to a crisp. I watched in wonder, and my seething got very hot now, where it was previously cold; I felt hot, too hot, like I myself was on fire. Odin sang again:

For the seventh I know,
if a lofty house I see
blaze o’er its inmates,
so furiously it shall not burn
that I cannot save it.
That song I can sing.

The fire stopped, and I saw a house burning, and the flames quenched. I saw neighbors helping neighbors, rescuing them from the flames, and helping them with food and shelter while the farm was rebuilt. I saw the survivors plough ground and sow seeds, burnt ground giving way to greenery, and baskets of food given in thanks for the help. I felt embracing arms and shaking hands, saw the symbol like water rising within me, and then Odin sang:

For the eighth I know,
what to all is
useful to learn:
where hatred grows
among the sons of men -
that I can quickly assuage.

I saw fists and heard shouting, and then saw a leafy branch, glistening in the sunlight. I heard the wordless song of a priestess, and saw the branch sprinkle salted water on former foes. I watched the branch glisten, and the water was thrown on me as well. Then Odin sang;

For the ninth I know,
if I stand in need
my bark on the water to save,
I can the wind
on the waves allay,
and the sea lull.

The water became great water, a tempest of howling winds, pelting hail, and tossing tides. Before I could drown, I became as the wind, blowing and breathing and singing the name of the wind, and the hail ceased, the sea calmed.

Odin sang again:

For the tenth I know,
if I see troll-wives
sporting in air,
I can so operate
that they will forsake
their own forms,
and their own minds.

I saw a cross shape made from iron, held against the flying hags and causing them to lose their flight, lose their form, and be no more. I saw a fire burning in the hearth, frightening the hags away. I saw the hags of woeful magic, of famine and disease and bad seasons, being driven away by hands at work. The iron pierced my palm, and Odin sang again:

For the eleventh I know,
if I have to lead
my ancient friends to battle,
under their shields I sing,
and with power they go
safe to the fight,
safe from the fight;
safe on every side they go.

I saw my wards among the men of Middle-Earth, some who would die to protect their land, if need be. I touched them, turning them into ice from within, as inscrutable and immovable as a glacier, cold enough to do the work of death. As a pebble cannot do damage to a block of ice, so I made my men as ice, so the arrows and blades could not wound them. My seething became cold, so cold it burned like the fire before, but with a feeling of drain and darkness, my power given to those who could themselves be one with the cold and dark. Then Odin sang:

For the twelfth I know,
if on a tree I see
a corpse swinging from a halter,
I can so grave
and in runes depict,
that the man shall walk,
and with me converse.

At this point I saw Odin himself hanging from the tree, and I saw the force of my pleasure at the high spring festival, moving the waters of the void, the runes rising from the Ginnungagap itself, to revive him. As I died the little death in my bliss and Odin himself was dead, spring bloomed throughout the worlds, and the cycles of life and death were of equal balance. I saw the wheel of the year itself, turning, a spade plunged into soil that could be for seeds or for a grave, I saw the dead speaking to the living so the living could live, from the wisdom of before. The spade broke ground and soil spattered into my eyes, then Odin sang:

For the thirteenth I know,
if on a young man
I sprinkle water,
he shall not fall,
though he into battle come:
that man shall not sink before swords.

I saw myself plucking a twig from a yew tree, and sprinkling water upon one of my favorites, singing charms over him. I saw him as resilient as the tree, bending but not breaking, the spirit of the tree passed down through water from the twig. I saw him as poisonous as the yew, deadly to his foes, standing straight and outlasting all. I felt the poison flow through me, and began to choke. The seething grew deeper, as Odin sang:

A fourteenth I know: if I must number
the Powers to the people of men,
I know all the nature of gods and of elves
which none can know untaught.

I saw the gates of the Worlds opening, like a womb opening to give forth a child. I saw all of the souls within each World, and worlds within worlds. I saw the walkers between worlds, who knew these Powers well, opening themselves like a womb and a gate to receive the knowledge and the power. I gave of my own blessing, and that of my people, and our people's alliance with the Shining Ones. There was a brightness, and a high-pitched humming, of voices upon voices upon voices, wings and light and sweet air, surrounding and enfolding all who would know its holiness. I felt as if I would fall from the seat, but then Odin sang:

A fifteenth I know, which Folk-stirrer sang,
the dwarf, at the gates of Dawn;
he sang strength to the gods, and skill to the elves,
and wisdom to Odin who utters.

I saw a grove in the forest, and a temple built from beams, a priest who stood at the times when veils between worlds were thin, singing and giving worth and power to the different places and beings. As the people led by the priest remembered, strength was given, brightness to all, and Odin claimed knowledge of Middle-Earth, and the power to rule and destroy and heal. I felt some of the blessing spill over onto me, a great stirring that quickened my breath and my heart and made my mind spin. I almost lost the seething then, but Odin sang:

For the sixteenth I know,
if a modest maiden’s favor and affection
I desire to possess,
the soul I change
of the white-armed damsel,
and wholly turn her mind.

I saw Odin, dark and shadowy, become brighter, younger, and with a playful air about him. I saw myself running to his embrace, and marveled as I watched myself outside of myself. I saw myself grow brighter and felt lighter, as light as the clouds themselves, yet wrapped in the strength of a mountain. I heard him sing, again:

A seventeenth I know:

so that even the shy maiden
is slow to shun my love.

I saw myself as I came into Asgard, unsure among the Aesir, full of anger at being so far from my home, among these strange people. I saw myself burning with rage towards Odin, yet unsure of him, as well, feeling like a little girl. My heart sorrowed for Odr, and yet felt filled by the days with Ygg. I saw into Ygg's heart, the terror he saw for the worlds, and the threads of Wyrd woven together in doom. I saw his plan to bring the rulers of the Vanir to Asgard, his desire to stop this fate, and then his desire for me. I saw his softness and I saw the stages of my caring for him. I came to him freely, yet compelled by my own desire. There was light in his eyes (both of them, even the space that had been long since empty as a sacrifice to Mimir), and a softness even as I saw the depths of a terror that would never fade. Our eyes met, and he sang:

An eighteenth I know: which I never shall tell
to maiden or wife of man
save alone to my sister, or haply to her
who folds me fast in her arms;
most safe are secrets known to but one-
the songs are sung to an end.

And then Odin reached out to me, and I held him in my arms, from the high seat. He looked very, very old, worn down by his time on the tree, but even more than that, all he had seen, in his journeys through the Worlds, in different guises, gaining knowledge to strive against the terrible doom he saw in the threads, so long ago.

I saw the grief for Baldur, and the way he covered it up to be strong and move forward. I saw the work he did of healing hands and fighting arms, the power in his song, and the terror of the power raised, growing as he knew it needed to, but still growing in a way that surprised and frightened him.

He loved his people dearly, and even the different people of the Worlds, different as they were from the Aesir, they amused him, and to see it all pass in the doom would break him, as he remained and all else passed away. I saw his rage, and I saw his love for me, a love he had since long ago, when he came to me in Vanaheim, in darkness and shadow.

As I saw his love, the Van-Runa came to me, symbols burned into my embracing arms, inside my eyes, into the back of my mind. The light of the sun and the moon, the light reflected in leaf dew and ocean tides, the darkness of soil and womb and blackest grief. I felt the seething intensify, felt the runes beaten into me as I watched Odin hanging from the tree, alone in his grief and terror, willing to pay the price to gain power to stave off the doom. I let the Van-Runa fill me, with the promise to the rune spirits to only share them with my people and those men my people deemed worthy. I became the Van-Runa, my body moving into each shape, my spirit form itself taking the shape, a thousand generations of knowing the mystery behind the shape, and breath upon breath upon sound upon sound echoing through the web of Wyrd, shaping it into the mysteries.

When the Van-Runa had taken hold within me, I held Odin, and stroked his hair.

“You can rest now,” I told him, and enfolded him into my light, any light I could give him to drive away the darkness that clung to him and never quite left, that tormented him deeply inside.

I sang to him, wove charms of light and wholeness around him, healing his insides as I had just given life to the Land. I held him for what seemed like an eternity, and let him weep.

I had never seen Odin cry before, not even when his son had passed into Hel's halls. He was stubborn that way, determined to press forward at all costs, and so many saw this as not having any feelings, being a cold-hearted bastard. But I saw his struggles, and the desperate need he had to cry, as he was doing now, into my breasts, into the place where I nurtured my daughters and now nurtured him, giving him refuge.

“Rest now,” I said, knowing now that as I had seen what he had seen, I could never forget it, I could never burn it out of my mind with my light no matter how hard I tried. Yet it was important to weave light, to give joy to the Worlds as I could, and I gave it to Odin now, soul-sick from all he had seen and endured, both in the years of gaining wisdom and ruling his people, and culminating in his tree ordeal, willing to give his life for this great power. I gave my love to him, as it burned me and caused me to seethe again, and the charms gave way to whispers of, “I love you.”

Odin wept for a long time, and finally looked up and smiled weakly at me.

“I will put you to bed,” I told him, and he nodded in agreement. I tucked him in underneath the furs, and then wrapped my naked self around him. He chuckled.

“Thank you,” he said to me.

“You're welcome,” I said, and kissed his nose.

“I love you too,” Odin said. “I do have a wife, and many... women. Who I love. But there is room in my heart for you.”

“You forget you're talking to the Vanadis,” I teased him. “We can be open. It is fine.”

“I do love you,” Odin said, and he opened his mouth slightly, as if to say more, but then closed his eyes and stopped. He kissed me back, and then slept in my arms.

Runes for seiðr, terror for joy. Acknowledgment of love, as I now understood why I had been brought here, to this place. A place in Odin's tormented heart. The Oðr I knew was dead, left long ago with the terror he saw, and the need to end it. But he came back to me, in his own way, laying in my arms now, broken as he had broken me first.

A gift for a gift.