On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads
Enigmaris
Chapter 45: Idunn of Asgard
Summary:
Idunn agrees to leave her home in the mountains and meet with Odin and his family. She doubts that she'll give them what they really want.
Notes:
Hey! Important notice! In the past few chapters I've mixed up Eir and Idunn in my writing. Eir is a healer and Idunn is the goddess who grows the golden apples. Idunn is the soul magic user that Harry and Loki need the help from. I've fixed that flub in the past chapter for future readers but just for all of you, here's some clarification!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
If there was one thing anyone should know about Idunn, it was that she was old
She was very, very old.
Perhaps even the oldest Aesir living today.
Most people knew she was old, but they did not really know how old. If you asked any Aesir how old she was they'd get a disconcerted look on their face, shrug, and then explain that they didn't know, Idunn had always been there. To ask how old she was, was to ask how old the stones of their mountains were. Granted, if it were a human that had asked, there was quite a good chance the human would want to know how old the mountain was too.
Aesir thought that humans were very silly for asking questions like that.
But then again, perhaps it was the gods for being so silly as to have all this time on their hands and no answers to show for it.
Still. Idunn was old.
She didn't look old.
That was trick of it at the end of the day. That she was old, ancient and weary, but she looked young and spring-like. She had many names and had been given many titles through her illustrious life, all of which she'd done her best to cast away with. She'd been called the goddess of spring, of rejuvenation, of life, of youth, of…well of lots of things.
She looked like all of those things too. Her face was perfect, her cheeks rounded, and her body soft always on the cusp of adulthood but never quite reaching it. She had eyes that reminded one of buds on a fruiting tree, but you could not say if they were brown or green. She had lips the color of flowers, delicate and soft. She had hair the color of a spring sun, crisp and bright but not quite warm. Her skin was like tilled earth, rich and dark, waiting for planting. Her hands were tender and her feet small. She walked with a presence about her, something that most gods could not even claim, the kind that made a soul stop and listen.
When Idunn had been young, truly young, her father had called her Iduna. Called her his 'Little Love'. She could not remember his face, nor could she recall his voice. She only knew of his absence. It had happened around her 15th birthday. You see back then the Aesir were mortal. Strong and durable but mortal still. The giants lived long in their lands, their lifeforce tied to the realms they called home. A fire giant was born of a mountain of fire and lived as long as the mountain would, a frost giant was born of ice and glaciers and was just as enduring.
The elves were able to enchant themselves longer lifespans, they claimed it was part of their make-up and only Idunn knew that truth anymore.
It was just the humans, the Aesir and the Vanir who lived short lives.
Idunn hadn't minded that as a young girl, it was all she'd known.
Then the sickness had come. It had been this debilitating thing. It started with a cough, light and almost a little annoying in its painlessness. Then there were shivers and night sweats then the strange dreams. Then the spots would appear, yellow ugly things that would bring with them vomiting and blood and hallucinations. Once the spots appeared death occurred within days.
It had taken her father from her. It had taken many fathers from many people.
It ravaged Asgard; once, twice, thrice.
The first time it took her mother, she had been a babe at the time. The second time it took her grandparents.
The third time it took her father.
She had no one left in all the world. She'd been forced to marry a man much older than her, Bragi. He was cruel and old and ugly. He'd bothered before, when her father had been there to protect her from his unwanted advances. But without her father, there had been nothing left for her. It was not the law of the time to allow a woman to be on her own, and with no family, she had to be married into one. Bragi threatened any other potential suitors. She'd married Bragi against her will and took nothing with her into his home except a bag of apples from her father's trees.
He'd tried to take her that night and she'd burnt his face with purple flame.
She hadn't even known she had magic, no one had. But there it was bright and powerful and the flames burnt on the man's face for days afterwards.
He never tried to touch her again.
When the sickness came again, Bragi was taken and Idunn was spared. She left her home in Asgard, using what little magic she'd managed to learn, and she ran to Alfheim. Those who'd known her in Asgard believed her dead which was good because she refused to marry again.
Later in her life, when her adventures were done and her garden planted, she would reflect on her distaste of marriage and wonder if it was men she disliked so or the entire concept. It would not be until a young, lusty goddess of beauty attempted to woo her in exchange for eternal perfection, that things became clear. There were many pleasures in life that a body could partake in and Idunn would happily leave the wetter ones to everyone else.
When Idunn arrived in Alfheim, the elves saw her violet flames and they welcomed her in without question. It didn't matter where she was from or even what her name was, if she had soul magic she was wanted amongst the elves. Their magic was white and beautiful and they taught her much.
She learnt about the nature of a soul amongst the forests of Alfheim. She learnt what it meant to enhance, to limit, and to change a soul. How it could be a violation on the unwilling, and a salvation to the needy. How it could be a curse and a blessing rolled up into one. She did not learn to fear her power.
That came later.
The elves blessed her with an elongated life, singing youth back into her skin with the explanation that powers like her's should be preserved. Idunn likely would have remained in Alfheim for the rest of her days, living well into old age and passing away with honor, if the sickness had not followed her to Alfheim. It was then that she learnt that even the elves had limits.
Death came and Idunn had had enough.
She went to her home, an apple tree grown from one of her father's fruits. She looked at the bright red skins of the fruits she so loved the taste of and decided enough was enough. She picked an apple from a branch, checked it for rot or imperfections, and then let the magic free. The magic that poured out of her was unlike anything the realms had ever before seen or would likely ever see again. She took it from deep down in the Yggdrasil, deeper than anyone had ever dared to go before, she took magic almost from the roots themselves, dragging it up from Hel and letting it flood the apple in her hand.
It lasted a thousand lifetimes. Idunn had now lived closer to a million lifetimes still considered that moment to be the longest in her life. The magic poured into the apple in her hand, she transformed the very soul of the thing from a seed meant to give life to a new tree to something else entirely. A change so deep and so true that the apple in her hand could no longer be fairly called such.
There was so much magic that it spread from the apple in her hand to all the apples on her tree. When she opened her eyes, her sight was filled with gold, the most perfect lustrous gold anyone had ever seen.
She had not known then that these apples would make one immortal. She had only wanted to protect everyone she could from the disease that had taken everything from her. She'd picked every single one of the golden apples, put them in a bag and rushed to the infected Elven city. She did not notice in her rush to leave, that the apple tree withered and died with every step she took away from it. The soul of that tree had been mangled by her work and could no longer sustain itself without the presence of the apples on its branches.
She would never know she had killed the last of her father's trees.
It did not take long to use juice a part of the apples and give each elf the needed drink to save them from disease. The disease was gone. The Elves celebrated but Idunn could not. She remembered her father then, remembered all she had lost, and knew she could not leave Asgard to suffer. She left Alfheim during the celebration, unaware she had gifted the elves with immortality. Something they had been close enough too in the first place that they didn't notice it themselves either.
Asgard certainly noticed.
Idunn returned to her father's home. The wooden structure rotten with age and the apple grove overrun with weeds and brambles. She planted the remaining golden apples in a clear spot and used the magic the elves had taught her to sing the sprouts up through the earth.
Things spiraled out of her control after that.
She destroyed the plague that had taken her family from her and she had somehow managed to banish death from all of Asgard. Immortality for every being who ate of the apple. Well near immortality, the apple kept away disease and weakness, but it would not stop serious wounds from doing a god in.
She did not fear her gift then.
No. She feared it when the Vanir-Aesir war began.
Vanaheim wanted immortality. Asgard wanted power.
Blood was spilt and it was all Idunn's doing.
The horrors of the war would stay with her all through the rest of her days. In fact, every war Asgard would wage would weigh on her. The destruction of the dark elves, the ravaging of countless mortal realms, the enslavement of the dwarves, the gutting of Jontunheim. Idunn would remember each and every one. Well aware that it was her power, her gift, that gave Asgard the ability to do what it did.
When the Aesir-Vanir war ended it did so with a peace treaty guaranteeing apples for each newborn Vanir and Aesir citizen. She refused to give the gift out to any others, couldn't bring herself to cause more harm, to destroy more of the balance of the Yggdrasil than she already had. She felt weary and old. There was so much people wanted from her.
They all wanted her to change some part of their souls.
Make me beautiful.
Make me strong.
Give me magic.
Take away my magic.
Make me charming.
Make me good.
Change this.
Change that.
Fix this.
Fix that.
It felt repugnant to change a soul for anything so simple, so selfish.
She went home, far up and into the mountains of Asgard, she settled down in her father's lands, surrounded by great thriving trees that grew apples of gold. She sent the apples on request to the families who had new babies and she remained alone.
She preferred it that way.
When Odin had sent her the first message explaining that he had a grandson, a demi-god, who might require an apple but certainly required her presence she had scoffed. What would this half-human need of her?
His magic is like yours.
Bile had risen in her throat at the idea of another being who could do what she had done. She has spent millennia carrying the knowledge that soul magic, once done, could not be undone. It was a harsh lesson, something that only witnessing genocide after genocide could teach her. She had comforted herself with the knowledge that no one else could do what she had done. But now that comfort was gone.
She did not respond to Odin's message.
Then the second came.
A mortal monster, Voldemort, has spilt his soul purposefully into things called horcruxes. They are objects that give him immunity to death. One of these soul pieces was inserted into my grandson's forehead as an infant. If it is not removed or destroyed, he will die.
Please help him. Please.
Idunn had sat with that message for a few minutes, her ancient mind racing. She had known of these soul containers before. There was very little soul magic she did not know, if any at all. She had not known them as horcruxes, but names held little meaning to her, language changed faster than she did these days after all. She had never seen one of these things herself of course, why would anyone search after such evil?
But she knew the theory.
The theory was not promising.
She considered writing a letter to Odin, telling the King to begin the funeral preparations because there was nothing anyone could do for a cursed soul such as this. But then. Oh, then she had just a glimpse of her father, a kind face frowning at her with disapproval.
I didn't teach you to be so selfish, Iduna
Fine. She sighed, her bones creaking despite their eternal youth, and she began the journey to the capital city of Asgard. She donned robes of violet and gold and mounted on a steed as black as night. She road down overgrown paths and barely visible dirt roads down the side of the steep mountain. Behind her, the golden apple grove was shrouded from view, a strong magic keeping anyone, even Heimdall, from viewing it.
Within a day she entered the royal city for the first time in millennia. It looked different. The air tasted sweet instead of like rot and blood. No one knew her face she had been away for so long. She looked at the gold of the streets and frowned at the sight, she knew the cost of that gold and wondered how Odin could display it so proudly. No one stopped her as she led her horse to the stable and placed it inside and empty stall. She took her time removing the saddle and ensuring her ride had water and hay to eat.
She knew Odin was waiting for her. She may never have actually met the man but she knew him, knew his crimes. She had actually met his daughter once. The powerful magic user had tracked her down and begged for power, Idunn had shown her what true power was and banished her with little effort.
She knew Odin's grandson, the soul magic user in training, was waiting too.
She didn't know what to say to him.
She left the stables and walked through the palace, it looked nothing like she recalled, much larger, much grander. Everything sparkled with magic and might. All because of her. She knew the blood that stained these gilded floors. She saw Tyr, a man she'd met once long ago, training young Aesir men to fight. And fight what? Why even now did her people crave blood and violence so? Had that been part of the apple's gift?
"Lokison!" Tyr shouted. "To the front!"
She stopped and stood in the shadows as a young man with messy dark hair stepped forward. He had a sword in hand and was wearing a leather tunic. His pale skin was a near opposite to her own, his hair was the opposite of her's too.
Yet she knew.
She saw.
This was the boy she'd come to see.
She could feel the horcrux. It's dark energy, the wrongness in it wafting towards her like the worst sort of stench.
"Tyr." She called stepping into the sun. "I require the boy."
The old trainer, who managed to look older than she ever would despite her out aging him by thousands of years, startled at the sight of her.
"Lady Idunn." He greeted, his voice hushed. "You honor us with your presence."
"The boy." She said. "Lokison was it? Come here."
The young man looked over at Tyr, who nodded, and then left the group of trainees to walk to her side. They were as different as the moon and the sun, the only thing similar between them was their magic, the youthfulness of their faces, and the age in their eyes.
"Come with me." She said turning on her booted heel and going back into the palace. Lokison followed her without complaint saying nothing until she found an empty room that would work for their purposes. She turned to look at the pale boy, at the mark on his forehead that held such unwanted evil, and then spoke. "What do you know of soul magic?"
"It's um…from the part of the Yggdrasil near Hel."
"Yes. And?"
"It affects the soul." He said. "I mean, like in a real way. It's deep and it doesn't…it's permanent isn't it? At least the real powerful stuff is. The sort of stuff you can do."
"If you know all of that then why ask for my help at all? Surely you know your cause is hopeless."
"Just because something hasn't been done doesn't mean it won't be." He said. "Besides, if you thought it was hopeless you wouldn't have come."
She narrowed her eyes at the boy, trying not to smile at his cheek. She focused a bit more on him, filtering out the interference from the horcrux and looking at the boy himself.
"You've a prophecy on your shoulders, a destiny to fulfill." She noted. "I can see it, it wraps around your soul like a heavy coat."
"Yeah." He said. "I hope I get to take that off someday."
"Hmm." She said. "What do you want, Lokison?"
What do you want from me? What part of your glorious, weighted soul do you want me to disfigure for your pleasure?
"Uhm, for you to try and help me figure out how to remove this horcrux?" He said, almost confused.
"No. What do you want?" She asked again, causing him to scrunch his eyebrows together in confusion.
"I just said."
"No. You said what you thought I wanted to hear." She said. "Everyone wants something from me so what is it? The secrets of soul magic? Power? Immortality? Strength? Endurance? Tell me what you truly desire."
He blinked at her for a moment, stunned. Good. At least she'd cut through all of the lies quickly enough. It took a few minutes before he was ready to speak. When he did, he looked quite somber and serious.
"The only thing I really want you can't give me." He said slowly. "No one can."
"Oh?"
"I want my mum back." He said. "She died protecting me the night I got this. That's my greatest wish but it's not ever happening so I'm just going to settle with the whole getting the horcrux out of my head."
And she could see, the truth in his very soul. He didn't want her to change his soul.
"Oh."
How fascinating.
How new.
How glorious.
"What do you want?" The boy asked.
"Dear boy. I've made my choices and I must live with them." She said, everything she'd wanted had turned to dust a long time ago. "Now let's see what we can do for you."
Over the next hour she began to scan and test the horcrux. The soul shard had attached itself firmly to Harry's, that was the boy's name, soul. That was how horcrux formation worked after all. The shredded piece of soul would be attached to the soul of another object, thus creating a near indestructible unholy abomination that would offer the original being protection against mortal wounds. This horcrux, however unintentionally made, was well anchored with Harry's soul. So much so that some of the soul's original characteristics like the ability to speak Parseltongue had bled into Harry.
It was just as well anchored as the changes her apples made to an Aesir soul.
Despite this the horcrux was still distinct from Harry's soul. This surprised her of course, a horcrux of this age, the two souls should have merged completely into something horrific. Yet the boy's soul remained mostly untouched, yes there was bleed through, but he had been protected from the worst of it by his mother.
"This is absolutely fascinating." She said. "I never thought I'd see this magic again."
"You've seen it before?"
"Once or twice when I was young." She said. "It's a love spell of sorts."
"What is it?" He asked.
"Well you see, it's… oh it's difficult to explain. It requires a great love on the part of the caster, powerful and unshakable. The caster sacrifices their heart, both physically and metaphorically, for a being that they love. It can be another person, it can be a thing, or a place. It just has to be something worthy of that love. We used to sing great songs about these sacrifices and the wonders that came from it."
"What wonders?" The boy pushed again.
"In exchange for their sacrifice, the caster's being of choice, is given a protector of sorts." Idunn explained. "It's not the soul of the caster of course, but something like an imprint of it, a copy. The copy embeds itself like a protective shield around the being, coating their soul with love and strength and vitality. Beings who have been given this gift of sacrifice generally become great in some way. Artists, heroes, inventors, something like that. They are marked by a great love and they return that love to the world in some meaningful way."
"Oh."
"In your case, your mother's imprint has protected you from the horcrux, without it you would have been taken over by it within a year of having it. You likely would have become some deformed copy of this Dark Lord as an infant." Idunn said. "Your mother loved you very much for this to exist, I can feel that love even still. It's a great thing, this love, even if it comes from tragedy. It's a love that gives and grows and flourishes despite every hardship. It's a love that returns love to the world a 1000-fold."
She had a hand on his forehead, it was glowing purple as she used her magic to scan the horcrux. The boy sniffled and she pretended not to notice. Instead she returned to her work, trying to find any sort of weakness that would allow her to pry apart the two souls.
"If you can't remove it." The boy said after a long silence. "What happens when I die? Will I be…tied to this thing?"
"No." She said. "Your soul isn't meshed enough with his for that to happen fortunately. Your mother's protection will ensure that if you must die, you will be free of any trace of darkness when your soul leaves your body."
"I don't think I want to die." He said.
"I know this may seem hypocritical, coming from me." She said. "But death is nothing to fear."
"I'm not scared of it." He said. "Death just is. I know my soul will still be around, that I'll get to be move forward, that it's not and end or anything. But…I don't want to leave my dad and my friends behind. I don't want them to be sad."
"Hmm." Idunn said. "I wish I could offer you words of comfort Harry but I can't. I have been alive for far longer than you can comprehend and I still mourn those I've lost. All I can say is that I will try to find a way to remove a horcrux, I will try dear boy."
"We've already found one. An old cup." He said. "If you wanted to test on that one instead of on my face."
"That would be preferable." She said wryly. "Give me the cup before you leave here and I will stay in the royal palace until a solution has been found."
"Thank you." Harry said. "Seriously, Idunn. If anyone can do this, it's you."
That was the problem. Idunn feared that she couldn't.
But, there was one thing she could do.
"I've got a good read on the Dark Lord's soul. I know of a tracking spell that works on souls, it works beneath the most powerful of wards, even things like the fidelus."
"You know about that spell."
"There's very little magic I don't know these days." She said wryly. "I was alive when that spell was invented Harry. The tracking spell is soul magic, you'll be the one to cast it. But it will help you hunt down the other horcruxes on Midgard."
"Thank you." He said again, his bright green eyes glistening.
"Don't mention it." She said removing her hand. "Now sit still and let me teach you this spell."
It did not take him long to learn. Like her, he took to soul magic like a duck took to water. Once he knew it, she helped him use his own senses to manage to lock onto this Dark Lord's soul. Now with the spell he would be able to track and trace of the dark lord like a bloodhound across the nine realms if the need arose.
Once they were finished, Harry looked at her with a smile.
"Hey, do you want to play quidditch?"
"What?"
The boy did not know she was old, older than anything else in Asgard except for perhaps the mountains. He did not know why she had isolated herself from the world. He did not know any of the things one was meant to know about her.
What he did know with his still mostly untrained soul sense, was that she was alone.
That she ached.
"Quidditch. It's a fun game you play on flying brooms. I can teach you!" He said, holding out his hand. "We've got time for at least once game before dinner in the feasting hall, I'm sure."
"You're father…" She began.
"He won't mind! You've already given us more than we'd hoped. Come on. Just one game?"
And that was the first request she'd been given in the last 9000 years she was happy to fulfill.
Notes:
Remember Idunn and Eir are two different people that I mixed up because being a grad student is hard sometimes lol.