The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles
AUTHOR NOTE: A retelling of the Nordic myth of Iduna, an excerpt from Tapestry of Dark and Light, Book One of The Warrior Queen Chronicles, a novel written with Kellianna Girouard.
Iduna walked softly through the wildwood, gathering berries from the bushes and trees growing beside the stream. She filled her basket with cranberries, blackberries, raspberries, lingonberries, blueberries, and strawberries, a feast for the Gods and Goddesses of Asgard.
The sun moved past the mid-point of the sky, and Iduna sat for a while with her feet in the deliciously cold water. Birds flew down from the trees to rest near her, and from the forest strutted an elk, crowned with six-tined antlers. Iduna offered the elk a palm full of lingonberries and threw blackberries to the birds. Her allotted task was to feed the Gods and Goddesses, but what were the birds and animals if not Gods of the forest?
Iduna left the stream and walked slowly back to Asgard, singing the spells that filled the berries with the spirit of Nature, the life force that kept the Gods and Goddesses young and strong. She had learned the spells from her mother, who had them from her mother, words of power passed down from mother to daughter since the beginning. Iduna’s long hair coiled around her body like golden snakes as she sang, and flowers bloomed where her feet touched the ground. So it had been since the dawn of Time, and so it might have continued except for the heedless greed and anger of three Gods.
Óðin, Loki, and Hoenir left Asgard and traveled far in search of adventure and riches. Their journey took them into a barren mountain range where Iduna had never walked.
“My life force is weakening,” said Óðin. “We must return to Iduna and her life-giving berries.”
“Just a little further,” said Hoenir. “I want more to show for our travels.” His bag already bulged with gold and precious gems, but Hoenir always lusted for the next treasure.
“We can slaughter an ox for our next meal,” said Loki, who never troubled with matters of property or ownership of herds.
Óðin let it be, so they killed an ox, prepared the meat for cooking, and sat around the fire waiting to eat. Strangely the meat did not crisp and sizzle; no succulent smells arose from the fire.
“It must be spelled,” said Hoenir, looking around warily.
“It is I who, by my magic, prevent your meat from cooking!”
They looked up. Perched in the tree was a huge eagle. Óðin muttered something about Loki and his thieving ways.
“Give me my fill of your meat, and I shall release the rest for you,” said the eagle.
Loki objected, but Óðin invited the eagle to eat his fill. The great bird glided down and took the choicest parts of the ox with his sharp talons and fierce beak.
“That is enough!” cried Loki. “All the best meat is gone!” He grabbed a fallen branch and lunged at the eagle.
The eagle moved faster than light and took the branch in its talons, carrying Loki into the sky. Loki screamed and cursed, but the eagle spiraled higher and higher.
Loki threatened and begged, and finally the eagle offered Loki a choice.
“Bring me the life-giving service of Iduna, or I will carry you to my children who will strip the flesh from your bones.”
Loki agreed.
The three travelers returned to Asgard, inventing glorious songs and stories about their journey. The longest story was about Loki’s encounter with the eagle and his escape, but only he knew the bargain he had made with the creature; only he knew that the eagle was the giant Thjazi in his bird form.
When the travelers had been welcomed home, all the songs sung, the stories told, and the mead drunk, Loki crept away to the wildwood to find Iduna. He knew the way to her bower; her mother’s mothers had always welcomed him, feeding him the ripest berries, the sweetest nuts, the most succulent fruits.
“Ah, Loki, you are returned safely. I dreamt of a giant who carried you away. I am glad to see you well.” Iduna smiled, and the World grew brighter.
Loki ate some berries and spoke of his travels, offering to show Iduna a place he had found where cloudberries grew all year round.
They left Asgard the next day, Iduna carrying her basket to fetch cloudberries for the Gods and Goddesses. They journeyed for three days and came to a barren mountain range.
“Where is this place?” Iduna asked, but Loki had disappeared.
A rush of wings, and Iduna was snatched up in Thjazi’s talons and carried to the giant’s lair; Thrymheim, he called it – Thunder Home – for the sound of the wind in the mountain peaks and the pounding avalanches that covered the World below with snow.
“Feed me the elixir of Life,” demanded Thjazi.
Iduna offered Thjazi berries from her basket, but he flung them away.
“I can gather berries myself,” he growled. “I want the magic you give the Gods! I want to live forever!”
Iduna spoke of the life-giving power she carried, but Thjazi was bellowing too loudly to hear. He locked her in a stone cell and left her alone on the mountain.
Asgard was quiet. Without Iduna’s life-giving berries, nuts, and fruits, Time moved through the halls of the Gods, wrinkling skin, bending backs, turning hair grey. The Gods and Goddesses grew frail and old.
“What is this?” asked Freya, her once golden hair hanging limp and grey, her breasts sagging.
“Ask Loki,” said Óðin. “Ask him how he escaped from Thjazi.”
Loki was summoned. He arrived without his usual jauntiness; even he had become old and bent.
“What have you done with Iduna?” asked Óðin.
“Why does everyone always think it’s me?” asked Loki.
“You were seen leaving with Iduna,” said Óðin. “Where is she?”
Loki denied his guilt until the other Gods and Goddesses threatened him with all the combined pain and torment they could muster.
He confessed.
“Bring her back,” said Óðin. “Or you will be the first of us to die.”
Loki crept away, wondering how in the Nine Worlds an aging God could stand against a giant in the peak of his strength. Then he thought of Freya’s hawk feathers and did what came naturally to him; he stole one. The feather allowed him to become a hawk, and he flew to Jotunheim, the land of the giants. He crept into Thrymheim.
Loki being Loki, he was lucky enough to find Thjazi away from home, and he turned Iduna into a nut and carried her away in his talons.
From behind them came a great, thundering cry.
“Fee-fi-fo-fod, I smell the blood of a lying God, Be he live, or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.”
Thjazi was coming.
The deafening beats of massive eagle wings filled the air.
Loki flew faster, the Iduna nut clasped in his talons.
Thjazi’s eagle form filled the sky, blocking the sun.
Loki sped towards Asgard.
A ring of fire burst to life around Asgard.
Loki crossed the flames.
Thjazi followed.
The flames exploded upwards like the violent birth of a volcano.
“Thjazi is dead,” said Óðin. Charred eagle feathers spiraled to the ground.
Loki limped in with Iduna, whose basket overflowed with berries. The Gods and Goddesses ate the life-giving fruit and rejoiced.
“Blessed be Iduna, the life-giving power of Nature.”
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