MOTHER

Frigg Brigit Frelsdottir dependent of helvegenhq

[aflawedfashion]

Moiraine Damodred | The Wheel of Time 1x06

[frelsdottir]

@hugormprince​

“Have you no one else to pester?” At this point the line between whether he was intentionally pestering her or simply breathing was nonexistent. In fact, the two were a complete circle -- one did not exist without the other. Still, she couldn’t help but grind her teeth as she shooed away the child she’d been speaking to about the life cycle of a plant, which the youngling had at least found mildly interesting. 

She hated to send anyone away too quickly, save for the arrogant idiot man now standing before her, but she had little trust in her heart for a man who so closely resembled a god of mischief. Should she have worried that her words were insulting? Yes. Would she ever care enough to hold her tongue in his presence? No. She might have even preferred cutting it out entirely than biting back her words. “Surely you can find something worth your time besides wasting precious air.”

[frelsdottir]

ofavengedcurses​:

THE AFTERNOON’S HEAT STUNG HER CHEEKS AS SQUINTED TOWARDS THE HORIZON, the basket of crops laying limp at her side, forgotten by the blonde woman. Nobody could see what she saw. No, they couldn’t know what she saw. Insanity or not, Ylva Rykkel knew an omen when she sensed one. Things like these always came, one after another. Normally, three times in a neat little row. Like a pattern that came together at last minute, but never made sense in the beginning.

A shudder shot up and down her spine as she tried to clear the smog in her mind. It just wouldn’t budge, she realised with a deep frown that created wrinkles around her eyes and thin lips. For months now she had to tell herself that the figure that followed her around wasn’t her late husband but something else entirely. This was her test by the Gods who must have been done with this. This constant punishment she was living through. Ylva knew that people saw her as mad and she supposed she did too. The dead never made appearances to speak sweet nothings and then drawl out drunken insults. The blonde remembered, with a heavy sigh, how that was how her husband used to be. Someone that she missed terribly but used fear so much towards the end.

“Loki,” she breathed softly, finally fitting together all the pieces. The blonde was sobered enough to realise what had been going on. That was who she was seeing. It made complete sense, at least to her it do. “I’m not afraid of you,” she added, her brow creasing in defiance. “Nor am I mad,” she added with a chuckle of disbelief. The desire to confront the figure dissipated when she heard a noise from behind her. With a blink of an eye, the figure disappeared and Ylva turned, her expression going blank as she assessed the intruder. “I am almost done with the harvest,” she announced, although she was never asked.

⌜

The name on the other’s tongue stopped Frigg in her tracks, anger bristling in every nerve as muscles tensed beyond her control. They’d all be cast out, but she’d heard no word of the others, though she found herself failing to search or care for their whereabouts. She was happy -- as happy as she could possibly. Dragging her eyes from the ground she’d begun to bore a hole into, the woman feigned a smile.

“Do you often speak to ghosts?” For all the fake happiness on her lips, she spoke with even more. “Perhaps I should be more concerned if they speak back.”

The shock and terror of that name had almost made the reason for her visit slip from her mind. Have Ylva not mentioned the harvest, she would have forgotten completely. “I guess I am late in offering any assistance then. Though, if you require anything I would love to be of use.”

[frelsdottir]

runegrimsson​:

THE PAST FEW DAYS HAD BEEN TORTURE FOR RUNE AS HE CONTEMPLATED WHAT INGRID HAD ANNOUNCED. He had taken to brooding instead of letting his pent up rage over this and he was really exhausted from it. It didn’t help when his older sisters referred to him as ‘brooding’ as he felt that term never suited him. He wasn’t for all sense brooding, he was weighing up his options and he soon found himself at his favourite place in the world; the docks.

Rune stared at the water, breathing in the sea air and thinking about distant lands and the sound of rushing water. He truly did want to fight for her but he also didn’t want to ruin things with her. She had her dreams, this prophecy from the Seer and he really didn’t want to defy the Gods either. This was utter too complex to dwell. Instead he raised his drink to the nearest and attempted a grin, “would you care to join me? I think you need this as well as me.”

⌜

“What would give you that idea?” Her head turned towards the man, waving off the young man she’d been tutoring. Absolutely none of it had been retained, she was almost certain of that. The promise of their venture to the docks had weighed heavily on the lesson, so Frigg had decided to end it early and see what all the fuss was about. From what she could see it was merely just water. Water and ships. Perhaps her life before had spoiled her, but this particular wonder of the world was far from exciting.

“I’ve had quite a lovely day,” her soft gaze dropped to the drink in his hand before declining with a small shake of her head. “Though I do suppose some willing company might be in order. Do you wish to speak of whatever it is that plagues your mind?”

[frelsdottir]

andor-thorian​:

The night was dark, the cold darkness that came from a storm like this. The only break to the darkness came from the flashes of lightning across the sky. Bringing to world into view for a second or so, before it was plunged into darkness once more. 

He should be the only one out in this weather. The only one who felt at home under the torrential rain. It was during one of those flashes of lightning he realized he was not. 

“What are you doing” he had to shout to be heard above the thunder “you could get yourself killed!” 

⌜

There was no denying the odd comfort that came from a storm -- a good storm. A little patter of rain was only good for children wishing to jump in puddles. This was a storm, the kind that cleared minds and memories, leaving only the beauty and destruction of nature in this mortal world. She was vaguely aware of another body, another brave soul not fearing the wrath of a storm, but she cared not -- the people of the town knew the old widow Brigit loved to reminisce in chaos.

“By a wee bit of lightning?” Her answer came after a pause, turning in the darkness to the sound of the voice. She would not deign a guess at who this man was, to be wrong would be an insult, but to be right would mean she’d an interest at all in finding any like her. 

“Do you mean to say I’m too feeble an old woman to handle a little storm?”

[frelsdottir]

svalarisbergthediva​:

Svala’s lips pouted as she stared at the woman. The blonde wondered how one can feel at ease and uneasy all at once? That was how she felt in that instant. Maybe it was because of what the Seer had told her? Svala was honestly restless about this but she wasn’t ready to acknowledge it. 

Instead, she took a deep breath and managed a somewhat half smile that wobbled when she spoke. “Ah,,, no… not lost… I usually walk here… to think,” she was slow with her words, wanting to sound natural. Svala cursed herself as it sounded nothing but natural or neutral. It sounded as nervous as she truly felt.

⌜

There were several long seconds, though they could easily have melted into minutes, as the two women stood in the silence of the forest. To think. It felt an honest answer, though the weight behind them hinted at a half-truth. Who was Frigg to doubt this woman before her? Yet, she still could not believe the beeline through these woods was merely to think. It was the very answer she gave to any who ask why she remained in Fensalir as opposed to her husbands side those long months ago, but that -- that was the weight of grief.

"And what is it that plagues your mind, might I ask?” Her stance remained neutral, lips parted in a friendly smile. “Perhaps I could be of assistance to you.”

[frelsdottir]

svalarisbergthediva​:

Having been feeling under the weather for weeks, Svala sought the advice of the Seer. She had hoped it would put her at ease. It hadn’t. In fact, the talk had left her feeling… unsettled. The blonde wasn’t ready for such talk and decided to isolate herself for a while, only being around others at work. It deflated her usual attitude, her envious side took over. People who were positive about their situations. She even found she couldn’t bear to be around her sibling’s child for long. Svala had actually been sick when she tried to pay a visit to her family. When her siblings attempted to show some concern, she ran off to avoid any pity from them. Her pride was also showing and it was becoming a bit overwhelming.

Svala went to the place where she often went to calm herself down. The forest that was near to the village of Hebedy. The trees concealed a person from the village, the dark thicket was the perfect cover for an ambush. The blonde remembered her parents mentioning it when she was younger. A good place to stake out when one wanted to plan an attack.

Today, however, the forest wasn’t a good place to hide. Svala’s heart almost sprang out of her chest when heard movement from behind her. She turned to the source, her shoulders hunched forward. Her back pressed against the nearest tree as she glared towards the intruder. “Please,” she breathed, “I have nothing to offer you…”

⌜

     The movement towards the woods had Brigit on edge, her instinct telling her the blonde mass that disappeared into the thicket was not heading there for a joyous walk. A moment of panic had her questioning if it was one of the children heading off on an ill-advised quest; the adventure most children seek for their glory. A pang shot into her heart, the longing of a boy lost to her forever, but she would not grieve. Not now, not after all this time. Instead, she marched on, stepping carefully through the woods.

     She gave the only gift she could offer in this moment, which was the gift of distance. Keeping several paces behind the shape, never truly letting the woman from earshot, the goddess maintained her calm and steady stride. It was not a child, as she’d initially feared but a woman grown. Had she not been caught, Brigit would have turned back toward the village to allow the other some privacy.

     “I mean you no harm, girl.” As if to clarify her intensions, she raised her hands -- void of any weaponry -- and offered a warm smile. “I was worried someone may have lost themselves here”

[witchesnet]

We leave now.