Heartcleft road – Gna’s Story part 11

Part 11 – A Great Hitch –

I was still pacing when I heard her steps. I turned and saw Grisella in the doorway, hands clasped and looking down.

“Sundered spirals!” I exclaimed, “What did Hela do to you?”

Brows wrinkling, I rushed to my companion’s side to lead her in.

The dead woman looked away. “She… she made me the age of my death, old and ugly.” Her hair had turned to a dirty blonde, its straggled edges laying limp on the green of her dress.

Eyebrows lowered in confusion, I asked: “What are you talking about?”

“I be fourty-two when I died,” she said with a frown. “You met me looking the way I was at twenty-two. I’m not the pretty thing you wanted to share a bed with anymore.”

Taken aback by her words, I then leaned in to inspect her more closely. Sure enough, there were more wisdom lines on her face, the kind that came from loss and anger.

“Oh, that,” I said. “I suppose you’re right. I hadn’t noticed.”

Heartcleft road – Gna’s Story part 10

Part 10 –A Slight Hitch

I took Grisella by the hand as we walked back to the castle. There were curious gazes upon us, especially when I led her through the resident’s entrance.

While her eyes darted about in the corridors – her first sight of these parts no doubt – she said nothing. A small smile graced her lips all the way to my room.

As she followed me through my doorway, I noticed her demeanor change and I paused. She scanned the room as if she might find another exit. Her gaze stopped at the bed’s quilted blanket. Lowering her eyes, she started pulling on the front lacing of her green kirtle dress.

“Grisella,” I asked, “is something wrong?”

“Ah, no Milady,” she shrugged. “It just be my first time with a woman. It all be fine.”

Suddenly uncomfortable, I shifted my weight.

“Why do you think I brought you to my room?”

Gna : Messenger of the Spirits

Norse Goddess
Name means “Towering”

‘The fourteenth is Gná; Frigg sends her on her errands. She has a horse that runs through the air and over the sea called Hoof-Tosser (Hofvarpnir). Once when she was riding, some Vanir saw her riding in the air and one said: “What is flying there, faring there and gliding through the air?”

She answers, “I fly not though I fare, gliding through the air, on Hófvarpnir whom Hamskerpir, gat with Garðrófva.”(1)

From Gná’s name it is said that anything that fares high in the air gnas.’ (from gnæfa, “towering above” ) (2)

 Who is Gna?

Messenger, errand girl for Frigga, what sort of lowly job is that for a Goddess? Certainly, pray to her if you need a letter to arrive quickly and safely, an email to be read and given consideration, or a package to reach you unscathed. If you’re running late, needing to get somewhere on time quickly and safely, she can help you find the best path through traffic. All good things, but do you not also want your prayers heard? Do you need an understandable answers from your Gods and Goddesses, with good “signal clarity” and minimal interference from your ego? She rules communication, both mundane and divine, and that is no small matter! Certainly, the other Handmaidens command great powers in granting love and healing, success and safety, clarity and learning. Yet when you need someone to hear you, understand and respond meaningfully, she is best. If you want her to carry a message, hand write it, pray to her, make an offering and then burn it. 

Heartcleft road – Gna’s Story part 9

Part 9 – Looking Up From The Mud –

Calm yourself Grisella, I told myself, don’t be giving them the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

Face down in the dirt, I took a breath. I’d been so intent on ignoring Bertha that I had not seen her trying to trip me. Whatever heaven you be in Father, I prayed, please give me strength, send me help.

“Go back to your mound,” she said with scorn. “We don’t want your kind touching our food.”

I gathered the onions, avoiding eye contact with my tormentors. It had been getting worse of late, since they’d seen my mark on the Day of Bathing.

The old gods were little good to me here, and the new god was no better. Maybe I’ll try being a good Christian when born again to Midgard, I thought, then made a sour face. There be little difference between the followers of either faith, I reminded myself. No matter what I did, I’d be alone if I could not mould myself to be like them.

Brooding in misery, that was when my dark angel appeared.

She was the first in a long while to take interest. Clearly a goddess, yet she was awkward, with a haunted look in her eyes. Like me, she seemed lost, alone.

Then to my surprise she acted like lads did – the ones who found my looks pleasing. Well, this at least I understood. It was something I could give, in a place where none wanted anything to do with me.

I’d not lain with a woman as one does a man – it being a sin and all – but then none had asked. Being already as damned as I could get, there be nowhere lower for me to sink. So, I thrust my chest out and put on my best smile for the lady. Being a whore for a goddess, that be better than what I had so far. Well, until she found someone prettier, less boyish, as the lads always did.

“Perhaps we can be friends? I am Gna, messenger of Asgard, or was until recently.”

Friends? Is that what they be calling unnatural relations these days? I can do that…

Heartcleft road – Gna’s Story part 8

Part 8: Little Friends –

I rolled out of bed and shambled to the window. Pulling the curtains, I was greeted by the sun peeking over a forested horizon. Except it was too red – had I slept through the day? Blinking a few times, I realized it was merely a painting of sunset covered with curtains. It wasn’t even on the outside wall.

“Funny, very funny,” I muttered, remembering this was my room in Helheim. Crypts did not have windows.

I ambled to the wooden water basin near the door and gave it a sniff. I was wary of what might pass for hygiene around here, but the liquid was clear and without a suspicious odor. Come to think of it, I hadn’t really noticed much in the way of smells since I’d died. After splashing water on my face to wake up, I went to find a towel, washcloth and soap.

Thoughts of the previous day brought me a smile, and I marveled at the improvement of my mood. I had to see her again, I decided. Being alone wasn’t good for me, and I’d do almost anything to avoid returning to that frozen state of Silence.

Once dressed, I stood at the mirror. My skin had more color, looking less dead than yesterday. I whistled an old wind summoning tune as I redid my braid. From there I practically flew down the stairs to the outer doors.

She was leaning against the garden fence, fidgeting with the drooping end of her belt as I stepped out, and she wore a green kirtle dress today.

“Greetings Grisella,” I said.