Idun
Notes: This is a short background piece on Idun. I want to include this somewhere in the final product, but I'm not sure how it would fit in. She's an important character, especially her relationship with the apples. If you pay attention, you'll notice that while Frigg is a mother figure to her, Idun never actually calls her "mother". This is important.
Idun was never one for sitting around. Even as a baby, she ran well before she could walk, and spent most of her childhood running around the corner out of sight. She always seemed to be out of breath, hurrying from place to place. As she got older, Frigg tried to get her to settle down into the steady routine of the house. One time she tried to teach Idun weaving, and within fifteen minutes the thread was tangled beyond saving, the shuttle was cracked, and Idun’s legs were jittering as she clutched her chair with impatience.
“Can I go now?”
“Yes, please! Before you do any more damage!”
Idun leapt out of the chair and raced off of the patio, her bare feet slapping loudly against the slate.
“When was the last time she wore shoes?” Nanna asked Frigg.
“Maybe when she was four?”
“What changed?”
“She learned to take them off.”
Not wanting her to be idle, but too afraid of more broken things to keep her in the house, Frigg sent Idun out to the orchard.
“So what, I just have to pick apples?”
“Not just pick them. You have to make sure the trees are healthy.”
“The trees are always healthy around here.”
“Nurture the apples, and they will nurture you,” Frigg said firmly.
“Whatever,” Idun grumbled, snatching up the basket, and running off. She would have preferred running with herds of deer that passed through, or maybe chasing the shadows of birds as they flew through the azure sky. Stupid apples just sat there.
She threw the basket down and did a cartwheel. Well, at least it was outside.
Idun was never one for sitting around. Even as a baby, she ran well before she could walk, and spent most of her childhood running around the corner out of sight. She always seemed to be out of breath, hurrying from place to place. As she got older, Frigg tried to get her to settle down into the steady routine of the house. One time she tried to teach Idun weaving, and within fifteen minutes the thread was tangled beyond saving, the shuttle was cracked, and Idun’s legs were jittering as she clutched her chair with impatience.
“Can I go now?”
“Yes, please! Before you do any more damage!”
Idun leapt out of the chair and raced off of the patio, her bare feet slapping loudly against the slate.
“When was the last time she wore shoes?” Nanna asked Frigg.
“Maybe when she was four?”
“What changed?”
“She learned to take them off.”
Not wanting her to be idle, but too afraid of more broken things to keep her in the house, Frigg sent Idun out to the orchard.
“So what, I just have to pick apples?”
“Not just pick them. You have to make sure the trees are healthy.”
“The trees are always healthy around here.”
“Nurture the apples, and they will nurture you,” Frigg said firmly.
“Whatever,” Idun grumbled, snatching up the basket, and running off. She would have preferred running with herds of deer that passed through, or maybe chasing the shadows of birds as they flew through the azure sky. Stupid apples just sat there.
She threw the basket down and did a cartwheel. Well, at least it was outside.