#freydisi

Her business was primarily handled in the East, among the Ottoman Empire, whose Mediterranean conquests provided a wonderful change of pace and scenery. She established herself in Epirus with a finality that would last well into the 19th century, but could not stand still on Midgard. Her seat of power and belief often called to her, especially in the wake of budding Unions and their politics. As for Venice, well, Hel had a former mentor in the region, and grew fond of his motley crew of apprenticed boys and their antics. Things were lively and warm, and even in the frozen North she was fascinated by the ebb and flow of the nations.

Much of the early Tudor dynasty years saw Hel devoting herself more to art than anything, traveling to perform music for others and collect knowledge. It is known that she posed for a number of Venetian artists under glamour, and became muse to one @sittimoranimiinterfectorem’s Amadeo despite never allowing the then-mortal boy to see her face. A patron of various creators, the end of the 1400s was a golden age for her. Add in the correspondences she kept with thinkers, mystics, and influencers the world over, the world was truly Hel’s oyster in that time. A traveler of the East, South, and North, the West held little interest to Hel at the time, so she tended to stay out of the English and French intrigues that many focus on in the era.

Henry VIII’s rise to power, however, saw the end of Hel’s halcyon days. With auld acquaintances disappearing one by one at its open and a new world before her in the close, this was a time of near total upheaval in her double life on Midgard. Her interludes in Venice were ended by the destruction of Marius’ palazzo and the disappearance of both he and the young boy that had been so fond of her. The Protestant Reformation of Scandinavia made her a figure of terror and disgust in the seat of her power, and so for a time she turned her back on that land. Aimless and listless, she began to wander with a heavy heart, and even the unspoiled Empire left little joy for her as Bayezid rode to attack her beloved Venice. There were even times that Hel retreated to her own realm for years at a time, seeking a complete solitude. Honestly, what began to draw her out of her shell was the one safe place left open to her.

The Ottoman Classical Era was fascinating to her. When Suleiman rose to power, so did the opportunity to travel as more and more lands were conquered. More realms opened themselves to her, new peoples and languages in what had been Christian territory she would not dare tread upon. The effect was dizzying, electrifying, and she walked fearlessly across Serbia, Rhodes, and even to certain occupied territories within Hungary. If her former seat of power disappointed her, then at least she found opportunity under the Osman banner. She fell back into the easy exchange of ideals, kept her finger upon the pulse of art and politics. Still, she was a stranger in a strange land, and much was barred to her. There was a listlessness even in this renewed interest, and it sputtered out with Suleiman’s demise in the latter half of the 16th century. Once Selim garnered control of her former haunting ground of Wallachia, she left.

Upon this self-imposed exile from the Empire, she entered another aimless period, one of relatively few in the grand scheme of her life, but the second in a relatively short period of time. Adrift in a world of mortals, it seems only right that she would find her footing with a fellow immortal.

Sir Robert Gadlen was an old friend of hers. Born Hob Gadling, he was the subject of a little experiment on the part of a mutual acquaintance. The two first met in the last century, when he was a printer and she was, as ever, an admirer of the printed word. Now, in the 1870s, the man had become rich in land, resources, and status. When Hel returned to Western Europe, and then towards the North, she made sure to check in on him -- and found herself invited to partake in his good fortune. His joy was contagious. In this time span, Hel found her Renaissance.

The guest of a titled man, Hel found her foot in the door of society, a mysterious and well-traveled lady of Elizabethan England. She spent her days in a haze of hunting, parties, and sometimes simply pestering her host. Outwardly, the pair claimed to be distant cousins to keep their reputations as unsullied as possible, but this was really the period that solidified a friendship that would last into the modern age. Hel was a regular audience member at Shakespeare’s performances at both Shoreditch and the Globe, sometimes joined by Hob, once forced to sit through a performance with her nemesis the King of Dreams. In fact, on this blog canon, her and Dream’s simmering tension and ability to take the piss out of one another was partly inspiration for Beatrice and Benedick.