Her
The earliest memories I have are of Her gentle touch and of being curled against her, my tiny fingers woven in strands of Her hair as I tried to flee from someone thundering at me. I do not remember what for, all I recall is the fear and Her warmth, Her calm, and the feeling of Her lips on the top of my head as She held me and we waited for the tirade to pass. There were other days like this as I grew older, but this first one stayed with me so clearly as She sheltered me. I knew She would always be a safe refuge.
She defended me always, even when kindness was undeserved. Her wrath was something marvellous to behold and she unleashed it more than once on my behalf, once while I clung to her chest, sobbing. I had done nothing wrong intentionally, but my attempts to hide how badly that I had damaged a precious manuscript had only made things worse and my efforts to fix the pages had only caused more damage. I was sobbing when She found me, Odin rampaging about what he had discovered. I was trembling, knowing that his rage would soon be turned against me. I explained the best I could to Her. She tried to tell him. He would not listen- or perhaps he did and rejected my sincerity. And so I buried my face in Her dress and prayed for it to be over. When he finished, though, She tucked me in Her soft bed and then turned on him; I was but a small child and could not know better. I tried to help. I did my best and he ought to be ashamed to make me cower; he would not do so to his other son. She was my hero. She was even to Her death and it pains me to think on how I repaid Her.
This is one of my regrets- that all I have done hurt Her so and that I rejected Her love to spite Odin. That I had then realised that I did not have to deny Her, even if I wished to deny him. That I could not save Her because of my actions.
Enough, though. She is dead and shortly I will also.