Ok, caveat: I study literally zero Norse mythology. I’m really fairly embroiled with studying Greek stuff right now, for a hundred different reasons, and I still have a lot to do.

Nonetheless, Freya is apparently aware that I exist, and occasionally hovers. The Freya that hovers is strongly of the Valkyrie persuasion.

She was sitting by Hermes, as he and I were having a chat about why I don’t always get along with deities.

Me: It’s all in the introduction. You were honest with me about who you were, and what that meant. And then, and this is very important, you acted like a fully realized person with some social skills. That’s all I ask. Tell me what to expect and do that. Then, be an adult. At the very least.

To which Freya replied with the following:

I am Freya

I am War. I am Love.

To me, all is beauty: I behold the terrible majesty of all creation.

I am all beauty: The majesty of the world returns my adoration

I stand before you without judgment.

Holy is the blood of death – beautiful in its completeness

Holy is the blood of birth – beautiful in its potential

Mine is the dance of battle, danced to the beat of harsh-clanging metal

Mine is the dance of sex, danced out rhythmic and sweet, to a song voiced by lovers.

This is who I am.

I am all love, and love all.

Doubt not that I love you, also

The meager of heart have naught but hollow threats to defend their place

The frightened and childish shall storm up and take their baubles home when challenged.

But I am no frail and bitter tyrant, hoarding power without purpose;

I am no voiceless coward who stands before iniquity in silence.

I am Life. I am Death. I am the magic between.

I am Freya