#gunnlod

Gunnlöd

1886

I recently had two Giant paintings in the works, and now one of them is finished! Here is the Giantess Gunnlöð; in Norse mythology, she was tasked by her father, Suttungr, to guard the Mead of Poetry in their mountain home, Hnitbjörg. When Odin snuck in, he slept with her for three nights in exchange for three draughts of the Mead. Once he drank all of it, he turned into an eagle and flew away. As for Gunnlöð, she later bore a son, Bragi, the skaldic god of poetry.

In my fic, Gunnlöð’s time of guarding the Mead has already passed. She’s much older now and an experienced warrior; I'd say she’s around Faye’s age if Faye was still alive XDD And speaking of Faye, I like to imagine that she and Gunnlöð became fighting partners back in the day, after Gunnlöð broke free of her isolation in Hnitbjörg!

My interpretations of Gunnlod, Jord, and Rindr jotun ladies who were screwed over Odin (mainly talking Gunnlod and Rindr there isn’t much about Jord so it’s unclear what her relationship with Odin was like ).

Inspired by Cat Heath who spoke about nine days of devotional work for Oðinn until 9/9, I decided to take this up. It has been a long time since I have done a set number of days making devotionals, and this seemed a good time to start. Inspiration drives desire To find the mead and set the fire Break the back The skin will bleed Find if you can do the deed Sharpened scythe The red…

Gunnlod by Anders Zorn 1886

"I bored me a road there with Rati's tusk and made room to pass through the rock; while the ways of the Jötuns stretched over and under, I dared my life for a draught.

'Twas Gunnlod who gave me on a golden throne a draught of the glorious mead, but with poor reward did I pay her back for her true and troubled heart.

In a wily disguise I worked my will; little is lacking to the wise, for the Soul-stirrer now, sweet Mead of Song, is brought to men's earthly abode.

I misdoubt me if ever again I had come from the realms of the Jötun race, had I not served me of Gunnlod, sweet woman, her whom I held in mine arms."

-Odin: Hávamál, stanzas 103-106