Apr 1, 2013
Age
Freyja cares little for age, being old as she is. Idunn's apples are there for a reason. She does care about death and about how she'll go when her time comes. Freyja hopes she will die in battle when the Ragnarok comes.
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Age
Freyja cares little for age, being old as she is. Idunn's apples are there for a reason. She does care about death and about how she'll go when her time comes. Freyja hopes she will die in battle when the Ragnarok comes.
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Food
Her favorite foods are:
bread;
oat and barley porridge;
fish;
meat;
cheese;
mead;
wine;
any and every fruit.
Spring
Spring is Freyja's favorite season. The flowers, the beauty and the colours that spring brings remind her of Vanaheim, her long lost home. While it makes her nostalgic, and makes her feel saudade, it also nurtures a sense that home can be anywhere, if you look hard enough.
Jewelry
Freyja is quite fond of jewelry. If you are going to pamper her, jewelry should be your first choice. She has a tendency, a really strong inclination towards jewels. The Brisingamen is a clear example of that, even if she finds it hard to imagine she'd covet another piece as strongly as she wanted it.
She specially likes jewelry as gifts if they are a way to express the feelings of those who give it to her. They then take a more sentimental value and become more than a mere gift, a mere way to make her smile for a while. They become truly important, truly special and way more beautiful.
// If you guys want a starter or a thread or anything, feel free to like this/come talk to me/start a random thing in my askbox. Anything goes.
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Fields of Vanaheim.
She had been meaning to visit her homeland since she could remember, since she had left it. Perhaps in the beginning 'visiting' was not quite the verb. Freyja would not visit it, she would return to it, but her duties got in the way. Duties, responsabilities, life. She had left and while her heart would whisper reassurances about one day making it her home again, her mind, her rationality knew that the chance of that happening was slim, if it all existent.
Surely she had Sessrumnir and she had turned it into the closest thing to home as she possibly could. Surely she had her daughters, and she loved them. Once, she was even married to a man she loved, but that had changed. Odr had left. Was she fated to leave or be left? Such a gloomy way to see things, yet it often felt as the right way to see them too.
But somehow she made it. As soon as she had entered her realm, she had left her mean of transportation, the gib-cats, and walked barefoot. The ground beneath her feet, the plants, the very air that filled her lungs felt like home, and around every corner, hidden behind every rock, she had a feeling that Freyr would appear. She missed him, and what they had while living there. Freyja missed her father. If only she had managed to call them before leaving. Perhaps she could do that then.
The edges of her dresses was stained with dirt, with mud, and she could not care any less. Her smile shone brighter than her necklace. She was home.
∙ echounderneath
There were some days in which Freyja detested Midgard. She had her reasons. Jealousy was one of them. But she buried that deep down beneath. She had much to learn about the 'new' Midgard. She hadn't been there in so long, and much had changed. Its people, its cultures, the way they spoke and dressed.
That particular day, she decided to give the realm a chance. As the mortals would say, 'si fueris Romae, Romano vivito more'. So she walked, aimlessly through streets and avenues, up and down.
Carelessly, the goddess stumbled upon a woman. "Oh, do forgive me", she said, sounding truly apologetic.