Winifred Hodge Rose
Mani
Once upon a time, a time that is all the time that ever was or will be, there lives among the Holy Powers of the Worlds a lord among lords. As with all the great Powers, he has many names: Mani the Moon is one of them. Nokkve, he is called, as well: Captain of the Ship of Heaven; and Gevarr, Warder of the Atmosphere; and Nef, the Mist-Dark One. Each night he sails his shining ship over the holy way of Nokkve’s Path, granting the gift of light to Midgard below and Asgard above. The Holy Ones of Asgard look down through the airy floors and meadows and rivers of their realm at night, and see the light of Nokkve’s ship reflecting up to them. The denizens of Midgard and of holy Hel are blessed with its light shining from above. Nights and months are counted by the changing light of Metod, the Measurer of Time. Two of the eldest Dwarves assist him in this work: Ny New-Moon and Nidi Moon-Dark.
Among the lesser powers of the world are the Heiptr, fierce spirits which chastise those who turn to ill deeds during their time of life in Midgard. The Heiptr use bundles of thorns called limar to thrash evildoers, waking them up to their erring path and giving them the chance to turn and tread rightly again. Nokkve the Captain, Gevarr the warder of the ether that surrounds Earth’s atmosphere, also has charge of the Heiptr-spirits. As he captains the silver Ship of Heaven on its proper course, so he directs the Heiptr to urge humankind onto the paths of worthiness. As he wards Earth’s blanket of air from harm, so he seeks with his Heiptr to ward his folk from the harm of ill deeds. As lord of the Heiptr and the limar-switches they use, he is known as Eylimi–lord of Limar-Island, which of course is the Moon-Island floating in the sky. Many tales are told, in many lands, of the old man in the moon with his bundle of thorns on his back. Eylimi shows himself there on the moon, shining in the night sky during the time when evildoers are most tempted to go abroad: a warning to his folk to walk the paths of goodness and avoid the vengeance of his Heiptr.
Sol
Not alone is Mani. Another shining light dwells in the sky: Sol, the Mother-Sun, who rules the days and the passage of the years. She and Mani are the children of Mundilfari, lord of the World-Mill, which keeps the earth and the tides turning, all of Hvergelmir’s mighty rivers flowing, and all the lights of Heaven rotating on their paths through the worlds. So bright and hot is Mani’s sister Sol that the High Powers had to place the shield named Svalin between her and the Earth, to prevent Earth from burning away. As with other holy brothers and sisters in the tales of our faith, they love and wed each other. Light to light they are drawn–the Captain of the Moon-Ship and the Wain-Rider of the Sun–and of them are born two daughters. Like them, their daughters have many names, but one each will do for now–the names their parents gave them, foreknowing their daughters’deeds. The elder is called Sinhtgunt, and the younger, Sunna–the Daughter-Sun, who will one day take her mother’s place after the end and the beginning of things.
Young Nanna
Bright and brave are these two young girls, and they wax and grow in the delight of their parents’ love. In Sol’s great chariot they race across the sky each day–laughing, their hair whipping in the wind–while their mother urges onward the mighty Horses of the Sun. At night the little girls curl in each other’s arms, rocking in the cradle of the Moon-Ship, while their father–his hand strong and sure on the tiller–wards their rest and sings to them the silver songs of the moon.
Sinhtgunt is born with a warrior’s great heart, full of protective love and courage, and as she grows she earns another name, Nanna–the Brave One, the Daring One. She travels with the Valkyries, learning from them the skills of the warriors of Heaven and the wisdom of the Swan-Maidens: wisdom of runes and magic and the hidden powers of life. She rides a great steed whom she loves like a brother, dressing him in harness of shining silver and grooming him until his midnight hide shines with silver gleams. He is as great-hearted as his mistress, and together they ride the paths of the night sky. When he shakes his head, frothing drops of dew fly from his bridle onto the earth, and bring fruitfulness everywhere they fall.
But not all in Heaven’s fields is made for delight and play. Always, behind the warding and the love and laughter given the girls by their holy parents, lie the shadows of the great Sky-Wolves. As little girls, Sinhtgunt and Sunna enjoy but do not know the reason for their mother’s speed in her swift Sun-Chariot, and their father’s utmost care in steering his Ship of Heaven. Always behind their golden mother runs the giant-wolf Skoll, longing to devour her, knowing that–one day–he will succeed. Behind their father’s ship that tosses on the billows of Heaven runs the giant-wolf Hati, jaws slavering, desiring only to bring his destruction. Mani and Sol ward their little ones from fear and danger, and let them grow up in unshadowed delight.
Nanna Warrior-Maid
But the time comes when the warrior-maid Nanna opens her eyes and sees her parents’ danger. Though the maidens love both their parents dearly, Nanna is closest to her father while Sunna’s heart leans toward her mother. In her roamings through the night sky, Nanna sees fierce Hati pursuing her father’s ship, ever straining to reach it. And for the first time, she notices the grim lines that mark her father’s face, the tension in his hands as he sets the sails and clenches his fist on the tiller of his ship. His sharp eyes peer ahead through the dangerous waves and billows of the etheric skyscape he navigates, never daring to glance behind, but clearly Mani knows his pursuer is there and strains forward to outrace him.
The nightly chase is not over until the Moon-Ship sinks through the waves of the sea and sails into the harbor of Varin’s Bay in the west of great Jormungrund–the primal plane of being that underlies Midgard and Asgard, where the oldest of the Holy Powers have their halls. There, the Moon-Ship and the Wains of Sol and the Goddess Night and her son Day all have their landing in the safe harbor warded by the brave Varingians and their chieftain Billing. There, the powers of the sky can take their rest.
Nanna’s heart fills with love for her father and the care he has always given her, and her heart leads her to ride as a guard for him and his holy ship in their struggles across the sky. Thus she takes the place foreseen by her parents when they named her Sinhtgunt– “she who battles her way night after night.” With the great bow that is her favorite weapon, she takes upon herself the facing-backwards that her steersman-father dares not do, and rides her black steed behind the stern of the silver Moon-Ship. Struggling through the ship’s wake and the pulsing billows of the etheric sky, she plies her bow and slows Hati’s pursuit, though she cannot stop it. Nanna’s stallion, with the same courage as his mistress, plants his heavy hooves and trumpets a challenge to Hati the Wolf each time Nanna turns to loose her arrows at him. Nanna’s swift arrows fly toward Hati, then drop as falling-stars through the airs above sleeping Midgard.
Threatened by the fierce defense offered by Nanna and her steed, Hati is forced to run further behind the Moon-Ship than before. As time passes Nanna’s faithful love is rewarded by the easing of the grim lines on her father’s face. Sometimes she is able to leave her stallion to run behind the ship for awhile, while she sits with her father on the ship’s bench and shares with him the tales and songs of their folk. Sometimes, there, Mani and Nanna are joined by Mani’s foster-son Hoder, who shares their tales and merriment. But all the while, the seeds of love for Nanna grow in Hoder’s heart, although she sees them not.
Not all Nanna’s time need be spent warding the Moon-Ship. She often has the chance to enjoy herself sparring and riding with the troops of Valkyries. Thus it comes about that she and her sisters- in-arms are riding around the rim of Asgard one morning on patrol. And there Nanna sees a young God, gleaming white and gold, who sits upon a green mound with his hands clasped around his knees, watching them go by. Nanna pulls her horse to a stop, letting her companions pass by, her gaze drawn to the God as his is to her. She knows who he is, but they have never spoken face to face. “Balder,” she utters–just that one word–and pauses, as the shuttle of Wyrd’s loom echoes in the distance.
Balder
When Nanna speaks, Balder feels that for the first time he truly knows his name and who he is, deep within his heart and soul. In the eyes of each, Nanna and Balder, are reflected love and goodness and courage, and the shining light of the fields of Heaven. As Nanna is a Moon-Dis, sharing in the powers of the Moon, so is Balder a Sun-God. Within himself he distills and concentrates the essence of Sol’s hamingja, as though he is a magnifying glass collecting the rays of the Sun and reflecting those rays out into Asgard and Midgard and all the holy Worlds. Warrior and judge he is, noble and brave and great-hearted, the greatest in goodness of all the holy Gods. At that moment of awakening, like calls to like: Moon-Dis to Sun-God, courage to courage, love to love.
“You’ve spoken my name, maiden, and made me know it for the first time in fullest truth,” Balder tells Nanna that morning, standing face to face on the green mound of Heaven. “I say that you are my name-giver, and ask you: what gift will you give me for it?”
Nanna smiles, and turns her head aside for a moment in thought. “I know of swords lying on Solfell–four less than fifty,” she answers. “One of them is better than all the rest, its hilt inlaid with gold. There’s a ring on the hilt, there’s courage in the middle, and terror in its point, for him who seeks to own it, and on its boss a serpent chases its tail.”
“And is that all, maiden–fine gift though that is? Have you more to give me?”
He smiles at her and she smiles back in mischief.
“A horse you will find there, too, Balder–a horse of might and magic. When you choose it so, the stamping of your horse’s hoof will bring forth a spring from the earth–a gift to those whom you love and ward. In Midgard will be many springs and wells that are named for you, and whole tribes of men as well. Is that enough for you?”
“You know it is not enough! For now I will take your gifts gladly, maiden, but the day will come when I will seek more from you.”
“That, we shall see!” she says, smiling over her shoulder as her stallion canters away.
Hatafjord
Balder finds Nanna’s gifts and makes good use of them in the battles he fights of light against darkness. There comes a time when he and his troops sail to Hatafjord, led by Balder’s great ship Hringhorn, to battle with giants and evildoing men. On the rim of the fjord’s cliff Balder sees the giant-wolf Hati, chieftain of Hatafjord and foe of the Moon-God, standing in his giant-form to lead the battle. There Balder strikes Hati with his spear of light. Overcome with rage, Hati’s wife and his daughter Hrimgerd, strong with the powers of the ocean’s fury, seek to wreck Balder’s ships with wave and storm. All night the ships are tossed high on the waves, and fall smashing down into the wave-troughs while water washes over their decks to gulp down the sailors. Hidden shoals and rocks threaten them, and Hati’s wife lays herself down as a barrier in the sea for the ships to run aground. But to the amazement of all, the ships survive this attack, and the morning light brings calm.
Standing on the promontory where her father was struck down, Hrimgerd the giantess taunts Balder’s exhausted men, and demands wergild of Balder for her father. The wergild she wants is a night with Balder, to beget his child, but he refuses.
Stung, Hrimgerd accuses Balder: “You’d rather have her, I know–the one who watched over you in the harbor last night. The sea-golden girl surpassed me in strength, when she landed here from her father’s ship. She alone is preventing me from destroying the Prince’s men.”
Balder’s lieutenant calls out to her: “Listen, now, Hrimgerd–we’ll discuss redress for your grief. But answer the Prince directly: was it just one creature who protected the lord’s fleet, or many journeying together?”
Hrimgerd answers, “Three times nine maidens were there, but one rode ahead of all, bright in her helmet. The horses tossed their heads; from their manes fell dew into the valleys and fine grains of hail in the mountain woods. Good fortune comes to men from them, but all that I saw was hateful to me.”
Wedding
Balder’s heart lifts high when he hears these words, and he knows the time has come to seek what he wants from Nanna. He goes with bridal gifts for her, for Mani and Sol and all of Nanna’s kin. And so the strands of wyrd that each were born with are wrapped around each other, no longer separate, but intertwined until the world’s end and beyond. As Sun and Moon come together in Nanna’s parents Sol and Mani, so again they meet and love in the persons of Balder Sun-God and Nanna Moon-Dis. Thus they are wed, and never are there two who love each other more than they.
Together they fight the battles of the light, and together dwell in bliss in their castle Breidablik in Asgard, offering hospitality to all who come. Balder’s parents Odin and Frigg take delight in their son’s dear wife and the gifts of hamingja, wisdom and faithful love that she brings him. Nanna’s parents and sister give their blessing to Balder, knowing his kinship with them as a God of light. The kinfolk all grow in friendship, and special friendship there is between Nanna, her mother-in-law Frigg, and Frigg’s sister Fulla. Even Hoder, Balder’s half-brother and Nanna’s foster-brother, does his best to wish them well, though his heart hurts within him. He loves them both, and there is no cure for his pain except his own courage and endurance.
Among the many pleasures of Balder and Nanna are the expeditions they take with their kinsfolk, riding through the beautiful fields and wolds of Asgard and Jormungrund, and visiting humankind in Midgard. Often they ride together: Balder and Nanna with Sunna her sister, Frigg and her sister Fulla, and Odin their patriarch. And on these trips it comes to pass as Nanna foretold to Balder: Balder’s magical horse stamps his hoof, and a life-giving spring appears as Balder’s gift to humankind. Because of this, many springs and wells in all the Germanic lands are named for him–often in Balder’s name-variant of Phol or Fal. On one such occasion, Balder’s horse wrenches his foreleg. But the galdor-magics of Odin and the four Goddesses quickly heal the injury and leave the horse’s wonderful powers intact.
Forseti
Balder is a judge–the most right-minded and merciful of all, and many beings from the different worlds seek him for his wisdom. But in his very perfection lies his greatest failing. Most beings are imperfect, a mixture of light and dark. The bright light of Balder’s wisdom and justice is too strong for their eyes, too strong to find a place in their lives. The very perfection of his wisdom and judgements make them impossible to implement in the rough and tumble of life in the complex world of Midgard. Thus it is: the perfect judgements of Balder fail through their very perfection, until the fine son of Balder and Nanna grows into his own strength and wisdom. In Forseti his father’s piercing brightness is tempered and blended with strands closer to the earthly lives which reach out to touch the Gods. Where Balder’s justice is too high for mortals to reach, Forseti’s skill in touching mankind at their own level allows his well-tempered wisdom to take root in their hearts. It is said that no one leaves the presence of Forseti Lawgiver, son of Nanna and Balder, without a fair and workable resolution of the issues that brought them there.
Balder’s Dreams
Thus life continues among them, until the time comes for another strand–spun by Wyrd long ago–to make its appearance in the pattern. Among all the Worlds–Asgard and Vanaheim, Midgard, Jotunheim, and all the other worlds–the wind begins to blow more chill than once it did in the morning of time. Something strange is mixed in the air, and a tremble of change is felt. Balder dreams uneasily. Dvalin and Dain the ancient Dwarf-fathers dream dark dreams as well, and unrest is felt among the all the Holy Ones. Odin and Frigg seek the secret paths of wisdom, and along with Wyrd they weave hidden strands–bitter and sweet–out of the very fibers of their hearts. All beings, fearing an inchoate threat to Balder, swear holy oaths to Balder’s mother Frigg, that never will they bring him harm. All beings, that is, except for one: the soft-stalked mistletoe, that grows high in the boughs of the apple and the oak. Its voice is so small and soft and secret, that it is never heard nor missed among the mighty choruses of love being sung for Balder.
One being, only, among them all, hears the voice that isn’t there, and tracks it down. One being, Loki, plucks a twig of mistletoe and takes it to the mightiest of the ancient smiths. The smith once was a friend of the Gods and worked with them to make many beauties of the Worlds. But great offense has come between them and now he nourishes hatred in his heart. His names are known, and his story is known, but they come in another tale too long to tell here. Suffice it to say that in malice is the soft sprig of mistletoe plucked, and with malice and mighty magics it is wrought into a razor-sharp dart, thirsting for holy blood. With mightier magics yet, it keeps–for all its sharpness–the outer seeming of a simple twig of mistletoe. Loki hides this magic arrow next to his heart, cherishing it and waiting for his chance.
Odainsakr
Meanwhile, in the golden heart of Jormungrund the Primal World, under the central root of the Great Tree in Mimir’s holy realm and guarded by Delling, the bright Elf of the Dawn, stands in hidden peace Odainsakr–the Field of the Undying. Once three loving Gods shaped Ask and Embla from two trees, and Ask and Embla in turn gave birth to men and women. From among these first men and women in the Age of Gold, during the morning of the world, the Holy Powers chose out Lif and Lifthrasir, and other men and women of untarnished fame and goodness of heart. These people the Powers named the Asmegir –the descendants of the Aesir–and they gave them the realm of Odainsakr, to live there protected from all ill and harm until the end of this cycle of the Worlds.
After Ragnarok, Lif and Lifthrasir, the other holy men and women and their children, will people the new Earth that rises, cleansed of ill, out of the girdling sea. But until the time we speak of now–the time when the chill wind of change is felt in the other Worlds–the Asmegir have been alone, without the company of any Holy Ones. Though the most pious of all humans, they have had no one on whom to lavish their love of holiness. Now, with this wind of change that blows chill in the other worlds, blows a warm little wind of change into hidden Odainsakr. A messenger comes to the Asmegir, telling them to prepare for their greatest joy which is soon to come. And so they do–these wise Asmegir–and their hearts beat high with happiness while those in other worlds sink with dread.
Hoder’s Blindness
There comes an evening then, among the blowing winds of change in the world of the Gods, when Balder’s half-brother Hoder walks through the circling woods on his way to a Yuletide feast and sumble. In the twilight in the woods, he comes across a shadowy troll-wife, riding on a great wolf with serpents as her reins.
“Come with me,” she calls to Hoder, “and be my beloved. You will never know such love as mine.”
But Hoder is repelled, and denies her invitation.
“So be it, then,” says the troll-wife. “You’ll pay for it, when the time comes to make your boast in sumble.” Cackling, she rides away in the darkness on her wolf-steed.
Hoder dismisses the incident from his mind, and continues on to the feast with his comrades. Afterwards, the holy boar of sacrifice is led around the hall, while each take their turn to lay a hand on it and drink their sumble-pledges. When Hoder’s turn comes and he lays his hand on the boar, a strange blindness of thought comes over him. Gone is the shield of loyalty and courage, with which he protects himself and his kin against his forbidden love for his brother’s wife Nanna. Blindly, Hoder touches the great boar and raises his horn in sumble-pledge. Blindly then he speaks, absent his will and his sense, and his boast is this: that he will wed Nanna, his brother’s wife. Thus are the words spoken in holy sumble, on the oath-boar, and cannot be unsaid.
The cursed blindness lifts from Hoder then, and he is sick at heart. In bitter repentance, he journeys far to find his brother Balder and warn him of what he has done. Balder gives Hoder warm welcome when he arrives.
“Welcome, Hoder! What news do you bring? Why, prince, have you left your lands and come alone to meet me here?”
And Hoder answers him in bitterness of heart: “A terrible crime has come upon me. I have chosen that royally-born bride of yours with the sumble-horn.”
“Do not reproach yourself!” his brother replies. “For both of us, Hoder, what’s said in sumble must come true. Ill dreams have spoken to me and to the Dwarf-fathers; I know not what fate awaits me. Your boast may turn out to be for the best, after all, when hidden wyrd becomes known.”
“You’re saying, Balder, that I deserve from you goodwill and the greatest of gifts! It would be more fitting for you to bloody your sword on me, than to grant peace to me, your enemy.”
But Balder tries to comfort his repentant brother, telling him that he suspects the troll-wife who cursed Hoder to be Balder’s own fetch, warning of his death. Such is Balder’s shining courage and his acceptance of his unknown wyrd, that his brother is comforted for a time, and drawn to join Balder and the other Aesir at their feasting and games.
Mistletoe
Most of the Aesir there are in great spirits. Having obtained–they think–the promise of all things not to harm Balder, their fears are gone and their hearts are high. Laughing, they launch missile after missile at Balder, and joyously they applaud when each missile brings him no harm. But Hoder, his dread returning, sits in a dark corner and closes his eyes. His heart trembles within him. He starts when he hears a soft voice in his ear, greeting him with friendly words, and when he opens his eyes it seems to him that darkness still remains before him.
“Who is that speaking to me?” he calls, startled.
“It is only I, Loki. I noticed you were not joining in the fun here, and am sorry to see it. You seem to be in low spirits. Come, cheer up and join in with us!”
“No…..no,” answers Hoder, shaking his head. “I have no heart for such games, and wish they would leave off playing.”
“Come now, Hoder–that’s no way to behave at the feast of the Aesir. That’s no princely mood you have, but the quivering of a thrall. Come–there’s no harm in it–join the fun!”
“No, I have no wish to do that, and anyway I brought no weapon with me. I have nothing to throw, and don’t want to throw anything. And it seems very dark in here to me, very dim–why is it so ill-lit?” The shadows growing in Hoder’s heart seem to veil his eyes ever deeper in darkness.
“Look,” says Loki in friendly chiding. “I have here this little twig of mistletoe. What harm could such a thing possibly do? Come on–take it and give it a toss at Balder. You can’t be the only one here not having fun, sitting off in a corner and grumping. What will everyone think of you?” Loki continues his skillful persuasion until Hoder rises uncertainly and turns toward Balder.
“It still seems awfully dark in here to me,” he says to Loki. “I can hardly see to aim, anyway. This whole thing is foolish.” And he goes to sit down again.
“No, no!” Loki encourages him. “Really, it isn’t dark–there’s plenty of light to aim. Here, I’ll help you–I’ll just stand behind you and guide your hand in the right direction. We can’t have it said that Hoder the Warrior, alone of all the Aesir, has no heart for games of weaponry!” And he laughs loudly.
With ill-grace, Hoder lets Loki help him toss the mistletoe. The little twig strikes Balder straight on, and everything in all the Worlds comes to a momentary halt as Balder, bleeding from the heart, sinks down to the floor in the throes of death. And with him sinks Hoder’s heart as well, so deep in dread and grief it seems he cannot breathe. All his blindness is gone now, and he sees only too well the red flow of blood from Balder’s heart, and beautiful Nanna fallen weeping across his bloody chest.
“Here now, Nanna,” speaks her husband, “you must steady your feelings. This will be our last meeting in this world. I beg you, bride–do not weep! Listen to what I say. Share your bed with my brother Hoder, who has always loved you, and live in love with the young prince.”
But Nanna answers him, “I said in my dear homeland, when Balder chose me and gave me rings, that I would never, if my lord were gone, hold a prince of no reputation in my arms.”
With his last breath, noble Balder tries to soothe his wife and persuade her to take comfort in his brother’s love after his death. But she will have none of his persuasion. As she rises from Balder’s body, her gaze catches the eyes of Frigg and Odin, staring down darkly at the body of their son. But hidden behind the darkness is a strange spark of light, shining through their tears and grief, that Nanna does not understand. Then Odin and Frigg both look at her, look at her very strangely, and for the second time in her life Nanna hears the shuttle of Wyrd’s loom weaving.
Balefire
A shadow of darkness sweeps over her then and she leaves that place, never to enter it again. She bridles and saddles her black steed, arms herself as a Valkyrie, and rides into the night sky crying wildly and strangely upon the wind. None can catch her, not even Hoder who rides after as though he would break his heart to reach her.
Several days she is gone, and neither knows nor cares what is done in Asgard then. It is only when she sees and smells the beginnings of the smoke from Balder’s bale-fire that she returns. There she sees Balder laid out in splendor on his great ship Hringhorn, surrounded by gifts, launched onto the sunset sea. Nanna rides her black horse onto the flaming ship, dismounts, and lies beside her husband, joining him in death as the bale-fire wraps them round.
The Hidden Halls of Peace
She awakens to a sweet scent of flowers, and a gentle wind blowing around her. There beside her lies Balder; his eyes are open and he is smiling at her with all the love in his heart. Balder takes her hand and pulls her up, looking around them as they rise. And there at a slight distance, full of joy yet not wishing to intrude, they see the shining faces of the Asmegir and the flowering fields and halls of Odainsakr, all bedecked in brightest welcome for the two of them. At last the Asmegir have a God and Goddess among them, to share with them the holy love and wonder that can grow between Gods and men when their hearts and souls are open to one another.
Nanna and Balder are settled in high contentment, feasting with their folk the Asmegir, when a messenger comes to call on them. Almost unheard-of is it, that anyone who does not belong in Odainsakr is allowed to enter the brightness that lies behind its high, protective walls. All taint of strife, evil, illness and decay must be kept out of that holy place so it may be safe and whole when its time comes to be the life-source of the new worlds.
But for this once, Hermod the messenger of Asgard is allowed to speak briefly with the holy couple. He has come, he says, to see how they fare in their new life, and bring comfort back to their kin in Asgard. Nanna and Balder assure Hermod that all is well and more than well with them, and Hermod can easily see that for himself. Before he leaves, Nanna gives him beautiful gifts to take back with him, made by the skilled Asmegir. Lovely, fine-woven linens she sends to Frigg her mother-in-law, understanding now the mingled darkness and brightness that she saw in Frigg’s eyes as Frigg faced the wyrded death of her son, knowing what would come after that for him. And Nanna sends beautiful golden rings to her friend Fulla, Frigg’s sister.
Balder gives Hermod the magical arm-ring Draupnir to return to his father Odin, who had laid it on Balder’s bale-fire. “Tell my father,” says Balder, “that I thank him with all my heart for his gift of Draupnir and the generous funeral-gifts he gave me. But he must know, now, that such a ring as this does not belong in Odainsakr, and must be returned to the other worlds to follow what is wyrded for it there.”
Hermod takes the gifts and good wishes of Balder and Nanna, and with a longing, lingering glance behind him, departs from Odainsakr, never to return. But he is not the last one from Asgard that they see. Not very long afterwards, another one comes to join them in that place of the undying, to live and love and thrive until the new world comes. Hoder, Balder’s beloved brother and his slayer, Nanna’s foster-brother and would-be lover, joins them after he is slain in vengeance by Vali. The love that ties the three of them together is there freed from its pain and trouble, and lives on to give them all joy and contentment.
Thus they wait through the long, slow, peaceful days, while outside the walls of Odainsakr the World-Mill turns time and tides through the ages of men and Gods, and the winds of the world shift and change, whispering of Ragnarok.
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A Commentary on Sources
A thorough discussion of sources and interpretations for the mythological tale told above would require a full-length article. There is so much contradiction, so many seemingly disconnected bits and pieces, missing links, and confusing or apparently “makes no sense” material associated with the primary sources for the myth of Nanna and her kin, and then on top of that, so many modern interpretations of the lore to choose from, that the subject of sources and interpretations is not a simple one. In addition, there is the issue of criteria: what is the “vision of mythological truth” against which one tests, and rejects or accepts, various accounts and interpretations of the myth? I certainly have such a “vision” myself, which shaped my retelling of the myth, though it can and has been shaped in many different ways.
Here is a list of the primary sources and interpretations that I have used.
The source I have relied most heavily on is Viktor Rydberg’s volumes of Teutonic Mythology: Gods and Goddesses of the Northland, translated by Rasmus B. Anderson and published by the Norroena Society, 1907. I have found Rydberg’s interpretations of the following mythological aspects to be convincing enough to work well as a Tale:
~ the identity of Sinhtgunt (a Goddess mentioned in the 10th-century German Second Merseberger Charm) with Nanna, and all the material about Nanna’s father being the Moon-God in different forms;
~ the information about Odainsakr and the Asmegir, and the residence of Balder, Nanna and Hoder there;
~ the World-Mill and Mundilfari its keeper;
~ information about Jormungrund, the primal world, which incorporates Hel, Vanaheim, Alfheim, Jotunheim, Niflheim, Odainsakr, the three roots of the Tree and the Wells they stand over, and many realms and halls of the ancient Powers of the Worlds.
(Rydberg is often criticized by other scholars for being overenthusiastic in his interpretations of Norse myths. That may be so, from a strictly scholarly viewpoint; I won’t get into that argument. But from the standpoint of a storyteller, I find his insights intriguing and inspiring. They lead in fascinating new directions for pursuing a vigorous Heathen tale-telling tradition, which is, after all, what all of our lore is based upon: tales, folktales, sagas, fairy tales, and more. Scholarship is informative, but tales are inspiring, and it is for this reason that I most appreciate Rydberg’s ideas.)
The Second Merseburger Charm:
Phol and Wodan fared to the wood,
Then was Balder’s foal’s leg wrenched.
Then galdored Sinhtgunt and Sunna her sister,
Then galdored Friia and Volla her sister,
Then galdored Wodan, as well he could,
Be it bone-wrench, be it blood-wrench, be it limb-wrench:
Bone to bone, blood to blood,
Limb to limb, as if they were glued.
(An Old High German Reader by Charles Clyde Barber, Basil Blackwell, Oxford, 1964. p. 65.)
When we look at this, an Old High German charm from the 10th century C.E., we see a set of Deities listed: Phol (a German version of Balder) / Balder, Wodan, Sinhtgunt, Sunna, Friia and Volla. All but one of these deities are known in Norse lore, named there as Balder, Odin, Sunna, Frigg, and Fulla. The unknown one is Sinhtgunt, but if we accept Rydberg’s suggestion that she is Nanna under another name, then what we see pictured in this charm is a delightful family outing in the woods. Balder rides with his father Odin and his mother Frigg, his wife Nanna / Sinhtgunt, his sister-in-law Sunna, and his aunt Fulla. When his horse is injured, the whole family pitches in to help.
I agree with Rydberg that the “Lay of Helgi Hjorvardson” in The Poetic Edda seems to incorporate some very significant, and otherwise missing, pieces of Balder’s and Nanna’s myth. Not that Helgi is necessarily intended to be Balder in every aspect–there are clearly aspects of Helgi’s tale that do not mesh with the Balder myth–but it does appear that the poet who composed this Lay attached pieces of the Balder myth to it. In fact, some parts of this Lay which make the least sense in the context of Helgi’s tale (which is considered by modern scholars to be a confusing jumble of fragments hard to weave together), make the most sense in the context of Nanna’s and Balder’s tale.
Many of the dialogues I’ve used in my telling of the myth were adapted from this Lay, with Helgi (whose name means Holy One) being approximately identified with Balder, the Valkyrie Svava with Nanna, prince Hedin with Hoder, and other characters by name in the Lay, who also seem for various reasons to belong to the myth and bear the same names in the myth. The latter include the giant Hati and his kin, and Svava/Nanna’s father Eylimi. In particular, I think the Lay provides some very interesting motivations for people’s actions in the Balder/Nanna myth, that otherwise–in other tellings of the myth–do not make a lot of sense; and the Lay also “fleshes out” some of the myth’s characters and events very nicely, in ways not found elsewhere. I have used Carolyne Larrington’s translation of The Poetic Edda for this tale (Oxford University Press, 1996).
Other sources I have used include Snorri Sturlason’s Younger (Prose) Edda, Saxo Grammaticus’ History of the Danes (who tells of the love-triangle between Hoder, Nanna and Balder), and Jacob Grimm’s Teutonic Mythology. From a subjective viewpoint, I have used much thought, meditation and prayer, to try to “tune” my telling of the tale to the desires and the essential realities of the Holy Ones who are represented in the tale, to the best of my ability.
A final note: Although it is perhaps a bit awkward, stylistically, I have deliberately used the present tense in my telling of the tale, rather than the usual convention of using the past tense. I try, in this way, to capture the mythological essence of timelessness–the sense that each stage of the myth, while it follow a certain time-structured sequence, nevertheless endures in a timeless, ever-present reality which we can touch with our understanding, and celebrate in our religious ceremonies and devotions.
This tale was first published in Lina: The Journal of Frigga’s Web, Winternights 1999. Revised May 2020.