#modgud

[Location: Gjallarbrú, the glittering bridge to Helheim]

Modgud: "Well, well.. If it isn’t the queen herself, parading around like Helheim’s a garden party."

Hel: *carrying a bundled-up newborn, flanked by her wife Morrigan and husband Dyggvi, with their other weirdly-behaved children in tow* "It is my kingdom. I can parade wherever I like."

Modgud: *eyeing the baby* "You had another one? How many souls do you need?"

Hel: "At least one more than I had yesterday."

Morrigan: *Cooing at the baby* "She has my eyes. And your aura of doom darling.."

Dyggvi: *chiming in* "And my magnificent nose, dont question how we did it."

Modgud: *crossing her arms* “You should name her after me. It’s only fair, my lady..”

Hel: "...Modgud, she’s not dead like us, and she doesn’t hiss at sunlight either."

Modgud: *smirking* "She will eventually. Give her time my queen."

Morrigan: *thinking aloud* "...Actually, Morriel.. It's similar to my name!"

Dyggvi: “Sounds like a mushroom. I like it.”

Hel: *shrugging* “Morriel it is, I shall grant your wish dear old Modgud.”

Modgud: *stunned* “Wait, really?! You’re naming her after me?”

Hel: *starting to walk off, grinning* “No.. I just liked the drama in your face.”

Modgud: *yelling after them*

I know this will seem pedantic but as someone who understands the language, this error is linguistically meaningful and it zaps me in the brain every time I see it.

Some Norse heathens recognize a divine being mistakenly renamed "Mordgud" which means 'god of murder.' I don't know where that "r" came from because the actual name begins móð- 'fury', and this misspelling makes it morð- 'murder.'

The name is actually:

Móð-gunn-r > Móðguðr

The Old Icelandic Móðguðr (probably 'fury-battle', possibly 'weary-battle') is a little weird in that it has a hidden -nn- in it. The root is Móðgunn- and when you add an -r that -nn- becomes -ð-. I know, it's weird, it's really weird, but compare for example the word maðr 'man' (from *mann-az). This is also normal for valkyrie names like Guðr~Gunnr. If Móðguðr appeared more in Norse mythology, we'd see it written Móðgunnr. And when you drop the final -r, as in other declensions of her name, it's Móðgunn.

f/f series: hel & modgud

“i love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.” (x)

Tried to update my style a little and drew Hel, Narfi, Ganglot & Ganglati, as well as Modgud! :]

This is a chonky chapter. But it's kind of a favorite because a ... certain dragon and certain doggy make their debuts. :)

Chapter 7: The Abyss

Excerpt -

Hel and Modgud trek over the hard, unforgiving tundra, flanked by niflakkar. Modgud carries ice picks on her shoulders, a bundle of twigs on her belt, and many coils of rope all over. Hel carries only a satchel of food and a water flask Ganglöt insisted she bring. There’s no telling how long they will be gone, and even if Modgud doesn’t need sustenance, Hel should keep up her strength with cured meat and carrots. She also has a bag of saltlick lumps for the niflakkar.

The horned, shaggy escorts don’t look hungry, but Modgud can’t help eying them again and again. She speaks to Hel in a low voice. “You’re sure they won’t eat me?”

Hel knits her brows. “I’m … fairly sure.”

“Great. Has anyone tried to stab one of them?”

“Oh, yes. But nothing anyone brings with them among their grave goods is real. Well, solid in the way the living are.”

“Then the niflakkar are alive. But what do they eat? Really?”

“They seem satisfied with saltlick. We have plenty of deposits of it around this place. And I’ve told them they can’t eat any souls. So far, they’ve listened.”

“Why, though? No disrespect, but why do they listen to you?”

Hel smiles slightly. She remembers the forest and how she practically wagged her finger at the niflakkar until they submitted. “I told them who I was when I brought them out of the ice. That was enough.” She says this with composure, but she also glances at their escorts.

The niflakkr walking beside her turns its head. This one has green eyes and white hair. A few of the others have white or gray hair while most of the group has brown hair. None of them seem capable of making a pleasant expression. The folds of their leathery skin force their faces into perpetual scowls or snarls. The big, sharp teeth and tongues that often fall out and writhe like inquisitive snakes don’t help. Yet Hel, as a shiver catches her, regards the white-haired niflakkr.

“Do you have a name? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

The niflakkr squints. This doesn’t appear to be an answer. If it is, it suggests that the creature doesn’t understand the question.

Hel points to herself. “Hel.” She points to Modgud. “Modgud. These are our names.”

She points to the niflakkr. The creature touches its chest. Now Hel notices that, beneath the thick fur, there are bulges for breasts. Perhaps a female niflakkr. The creature still says nothing, but it, or she, gives a grunt that might be a question or a laugh.

“Yes. Your name?”

Another grunt. This time, it sounds amused.

“Then I would like to give you a name. I will give all your kin names, unless you tell me what names you use for yourselves.”

Now the niflakkr gives a long whine. It might be a complaint, but then it, or she, bends down a little more, and her ear twitches and angles toward Hel.

“Oh. Right now? Uh … Hjordis? Yes, you’ll be Hjordis.”