Tag Archives: Alfheimr

Tree spirit.

(Written on 11/10/13, while we had no internet access)

One of the times I went to the stream that I like in the forest [in Alfheimr] and sat down on the rocks along the bank, one of the tree spirits came to talk to me. He was thin and rather old, with moss and lichen patterning his bark. He sat down beside me and stretched out his legs, which took root and burrowed down under the edge of the stream.

He asked me who I thought I was.

“No one,” I said, startled.

Coming into their forest all of the time, disturbing the birds, sitting on things.

I continued to look at the water and thought about Freyr bringing me there more than once, and our wedding, where woven willow branches were put on my head and I was given an assortment of jewellery which seems to have only been worn by rather important people. It occurred to me that ‘no one’ was a stupid answer, because I was not no one.

“Freyr put a crown on my head,” I said slowly.

Did he.

“Yes. A lot of people came.”

What do you think that means.

“I’m not entirely sure yet.”

Do you think it means that you can come in here and do whatever you want.

I thought about the various implications of said crown and what people who wear such things usually do, and what I do and have done, and said, rather cautiously, “I can come here whenever I want. He told me that I could and he is the incontrovertible lord of the realm. I have always been very respectful of all of you.”

So you don’t intend to be another pompous little shit.

“No. Whether or not he married me, or whatever rights he has bestowed upon me, I don’t have the right to behave badly. No one does.”

Mm.

He leaned back on his elbows, which similarly rooted into the ground, and over the next several minutes, faded into an oddly-shaped tree that seemed no more animated than the very wide and solid tree to my left.

I felt strange.

The wind, feminine, curled around my ear and brushed through my hair, humming, glid over the back of my neck and spiraled up into the large tree, twining through its branches and sending them shivering. I had the image of a sensuous, well-curved woman, with full, deep red lips. The sky was very blue and there were wispy clouds, being unraveled by the wind in the high atmosphere. It was a cool day, but not too cold.

My clothes have turned into wool, with a lot of dark green shades, and boots showed up one day.

I am far from understanding what I am, and what I am meant to do. But being awkward, or ashamed/embarrassed that he placed me in a powerful position, simply because I have a low opinion of myself, is counterproductive and not a little insulting toward him.

I find myself playing with the antler pendant I purchased from Dver. Wondering if, in some years, I will wear it down smooth or wear it away with my worried rubbing.

A Month for Freyr: Alfheimr; Home

Things have been relatively calm, which is good, because I have not had it in me for very much stress. The amount of devotional things that I had wanted to do this month have been frequently put off because my health has been poor. I’ve substituted by spending more time with him at home, which has been easy due to the amount of rest my body has needed.

I know that with Loki, at least, people assume that everything is constant sex. I don’t know what people assume about spouses of Freyr, but it is also probably not as mundane as the truth can be.

He enjoys walking in the fields and the forests, the meadows, and visiting the streams, lakes, waterfalls, and rivers. This is much of what we do: we walk. The spirits of the places do not feel a need to take the form of anything, most of the time, or be visible in most traditional senses, but they are all very highly sentient and easy to feel. The places where the sun falls, where things are growing, have a feeling like a fat, happy cat laying in a sunbeam. They are well-satiated and feeling very glorious in the sun and with things on their surface growing so healthily and strong. The fields love him, and the meadows full of flowers and herbs and grasses do, too. Meadows are rather feminine, whereas fields are more masculine.

Forests have as many spirits as they do trees, it seems, though they do seem to have some that are in charge, for lack of a more appropriate term. Some of them are gruff, at least on the exterior, and suspicious of new people. But whether or not an ancient tree is looking upon me suspiciously, anything related to willows adores me. I’ve had saplings lean into my hands, and leaves rustle over my shoulders and arms. It’s very humbling, and charming at the same time.

Though it is seen as some sort of hippie foolishness, I have to wonder if there is, in fact, a very good reason to hug trees, and that is that they love people who connect with them, and express their love through touch, too. Trees on earth don’t have as much freedom of movement as trees elsewhere, so perhaps we should go to them, and lay our hands on them, embrace them, lean against them, and most of all, talk to them. It doesn’t have to be out loud; they’re perfectly capable of hearing what’s inside our heads, especially when directed toward them.

As much as it is a stereotype that elves love to live in forests, from Lord of the Rings to nearly any other story I can think of (excusing the drow of the Forgotten Realms D&D world, and so on), I can’t argue with it much: the alfar love the forests, and seem to choose them more than most other areas, though they live everywhere.

The water is as alive as anything else, and all of the stone. One of my favorite things to do is sit against a rock by a particular stream in a forest and listen to it, and the wind in the trees.

Around his home, there are many clear spaces for fields and though there are wooded areas, they are not forests, and so I’ve loved this traveling around we’ve done lately. Living in a city here, and being too ill to go the parks, it is such a gift.

Rest

Another important bee petition.

I donated some money the other day to a fundraiser, also about bees.

My necklace came last night, and I opened the package enough to find out what was in it, but didn’t look further than glancing at the packing slip. It seems like I should save it for the wedding.  Which is now just slightly over a month away.

After his period of being furious about these recent circumstances, he came back to me and held on to me as if I were in danger of being evicted from him. I needed it. As much as I try to protest that I cannot possibly be important to anyone, let alone a god, further let alone a god that has many more interesting people to pay attention to, we do need each other, somehow, for some reason. I spent most of the intervening time with him, laying together in bed, not really talking, but being close to each other. I do not know how to be in a relationship that requires large amounts of conversation. I need these things. Silence. Closeness. Understanding.

Early this morning, I drew Isa, and just now, when I asked for one from Freyr, I drew Isa again.

There’s so much to do.

But rest, it says. Rest.

And he adds, warm, tender, nearly against my mouth, Rest. What can you do when you have nothing left to give? Rest. Sleep in my arms. The last bit a hovering question without quite necessitating a question mark, but neither an imperative. Something he wants me to do, but I have plenty of room to be uncomfortable about it for myriad reasons and need to not be that physically close to someone, or asleep in front of someone, which is a very vulnerable position, and so on.

But I think about going home and being wrapped in a robe that is somehow softer than silk, done in a shade to complement my eyes, with black trim, similar to my hair. And just laying down in his bed. Such a dense frame. Heavy wood. Deeply carven. A canopy, useful for shutting out the sunlight from the right, where there’s a fair sized window, and collecting the warmth from the fire on the left in cooler seasons.

Having him pass it along without my being aware of it, or before I get there, that we, or I, shouldn’t be disturbed, otherwise lovely, well-meaning people will fuss over me, because I am some sort of darling of theirs. When I can’t handle people. And he always knows when I can’t handle people. Even when I can’t handle spirits and wights.

I do feel very tired. I haven’t slept well since some time in June.