kissofmistletoe asked: How would your muse describe mine? Don't sugarcoat it. I am genuinely intrigued. It was a struggle for Father, living in Asgard, but honestly calling nowhere truly home. How could he? None but Odin, his mouth full of deceit, would call him kin. I honestly believe we would have suffered less had Odin never fathered that spoiled princeling. Hödr was a mass of resentments, but he was worth twelve of Baldr. I suppose he was as attractive as any baby, but you'll excuse me if I fail at this remove to find anything to admire in the spoiled boy he became. And then the "game" that Odin himself proposed to show his brat's invincibility. All the while, not one person spoke of Fenrir, imprisoned for a crime he might never commit - no! For a crime he would never have considered but for his imprisonment. Mother showed a brave face, but her hugs were tighter after Fenrir was taken. I can only imagine Jormun was half smothered after I was taken. Until he went as well. One spoiled brat as weregeld for three children sounds a bargain to me. Hödr was a sweet child, but he never stood a chance, not with Golden Baldr for a brother. Invincible, beautiful, sickening Baldr. I would have wanted him dead, too. Hödr grew into possibly the angriest young man I've ever seen, and as you might imagine, plenty come to me still sick with anger. But blind Hödr the son of all seeing Odin? Always told to give up his place in deference to a younger brother, one taught from birth his own perfection and the worthlessness of a blind brother? He carried hatred like a dragon in his belly. I wasn't there, of course. I was here, a girl half alive among the dead. I still believe Odin meant me to perish. And I was preparing even then to avenge myself and my brothers. Odin is almost as blind as his son to think that I would not forge an army in my exile. Did it happen as Odin would have me believe, innocent Baldr, poor Hödr mislead by my wicked, wicked father? I doubt it. If I could, I'd find a way to free Baldr from my kingdom if only to never hear that brat whine again. And I do not have the pure, cold hatred that Hödr carried in his belly even before I was taken. Yes, Father was blamed, but isn't it interesting that Hödr was here a mere day after his brother? Nor do I believe it of Father, always in his hopeless quest to buy Asgard 's love - or at least their respect. The only ones to accord it to him were women - and Hœnir, of course, before he was taken to Vanaheim, where they sent him to me. He has been a most astute advisor. But Baldr never grew past boyhood, neither he nor that golden wench he married. They sit together and mourn the daylight world as though only they have ever suffered death. I can only imagine their child and want to retch. This plan that Hœnir and I have...it cannot be soon enough.
theartofmadeline
pixelskylines
turnnoffyourmind
prguitarman
