The Origins of Lammas
as told to me by Frey
(in forthcoming devotional "Gifts for the Golden God")

Disclaimer: what follows here is UPG, or rather PCPG (Peer-Corroborated Personal Gnosis -- through several people who work closely with these specific Deities) and I believe they are the words of Frey, regarding the origins of Lammas or "Loaf-Fest" a harvest festival specifically involving grain.  I am not trying to "rewrite the Eddas", especially as there is no story within the Eddas of Frey's sacrifice.  That being said, He is a harvest God and the harvest Deities of other pantheons are sacrificed and reborn each year.  Much of the lore in the Eddas was obfuscated, and there is much that was not put in -- the Eddas were written from the perspective of Snorri Sturluson, a Christian scholar writing 200 years after the official conversion of Iceland.  Ergo, we have to piece together what has been lost or destroyed.  Enjoy.  Thank you for reading.

Many eons ago, the Great World Tree known as Yggdrasil sprouted, took root, and grew tall and wide and strong enough to be a home for all peoples.  The doors to Yggdrasil opened one at a time.  It is said by my grandfather Frodi that the Vanir came to Yggdrasil as seeds of light, those seeds took form, and created a realm made from Ymir's pelvis, full of life: the richest soil, the freshest fruits, vegetables, and grains, the loveliest flowers, the best of beasts.  The seeds of light that became the Vanir people made a beautiful place, and maintained that beauty with hard work and rules of hospitality so that hard work could be done in merriment and all could share the goodness of the land.

My people were aware of the Light Elves, and when I was a baby and had my first tooth, I was given Ljossalfheim as a present.  The elves were so taken with my cuteness both in appearance and behavior that they swore fealty to me.  The son of the Elf King and a human woman, named Skirnir, was my best friend, and later on as I became a hostage at Asgard, he became my servant and, as I like to call it, "reality advisor".

The Aesir envied the land my people rightly owned, and after their rude, disrespectful, and disruptive behavior, there was a war between us.  I was your equivalent of a teenager at the time, hormonal and horny, and I fought in the war.  Many of my friends died, young and old.  To preserve a truce, our sides exchanged hostages, and I was sent to Asgard.  Because my father Njord was the speaker for our people and I had not yet come of age, I was not allowed to speak for what I wanted to do with my life and my freedom.  It was determined that I would spend a third of the year in Asgard, a third in Alfheim, and a third in Vanaheim.  In fact I am only allowed to return to Vanaheim just before the Ing festival and stay until the winter comes.

The Ing festival started when there was a great famine throughout the Nine Worlds.  The people of Midgard who had turned to the Vanir for help with agriculture were returning to the old ways of theft and murder.  They cried out to us desperately but had nothing to offer.  And then Nerthus, my mother, who rarely speaks, said "Your blood holds the fertility of the worlds within it."

"Then they can have my blood," I said, and I cut my wrist with the sword I had at the time.

"You think that tiny amount of blood is going to help even Vanaheim, let alone everyone else?"  My mother was quite upset.  "They need all of your blood.  They need your body decomposing into the soil.  They need your spirit."

I didn't want to give myself, I liked my life just fine.  I had my pick of any woman or man I wanted to lay with, and spent my time fucking, drinking, eating, dancing, and laughing, occasionally officiating at some event at Asgard.  I liked being treated well, I liked the company of the Gods, Alfar, and others I encountered, mostly I just liked having fun.

My mother sighed and said, "Very well, but if you won't do it, I wonder who will."

I remember returning to my cottage that night with a special lust for one of the cooks, but she was unhappy, and when I saw her stirring a thin gruel, I was concerned.  I held her close, trying to grind my erection into her, and she said, "I am too weak from hunger to lay with you, my lord.  My apologies."

So for the first time in my life, I had to masturbate, and I needed privacy, but every commoner in Vanaheim had taken up residence at my home because they were always guaranteed food there.  I went out into the backyard and sat against a tree.  As I reached my hand down my pants, I felt the tree "poke" me... with its roots.  And then I felt the roots of the World Tree itself, looked down and saw my manhood turn into a serpent, and I fainted.  And whilst I was unconscious, I travelled Yggdrasil, seeing each world, and the hungry people, good people, humans, elves, dwarves, giants, Gods, calling to me and crying because they were hungry, their children were hungry, their land was parched, their beasts were dying, everything was dying.  I saw the Tree itself shrivel up, and crumple up much like the boat Loki gave me.  It crumpled up and rolled back into the Ginnungagap, and the few surviving Vanir opened the door of the Tree, and floated out as seeds of darkness, to roam the great void forever in bitterness and wailing, shrieking sorrow.

It was too much for me to bear.  I woke up weeping, and as I wept, I saw clouds in the sky.  I wept with a rage I had never known before, and rains poured down from a dark, roaring sky.  I screamed and beat the ground with my fists, and the rain poured.  The commoners rushed out of my house and danced naked in the rain, leaping and shouting for joy.

I returned to my mother and told her, "I am willing to die for them, all of them.  To be alive when everyone else dies, and know I have caused it, is worse than to give my own life.  Maybe Hela will be merciful to me."

My mother nodded with a small smile at the corner of her lips.  "Maybe so."

Three days later I stood at the center of Vanaheim, and my mother held the sickle to my throat.  I was crowned with a sheaf of wheat, and the attendants sang a farewell song.  I was afraid.  I had never met Hela, I didn't know what Her realm would be like.

The sickle went into me, and I was aware of my falling to the ground as a great burning pain surged through my body.  I felt the blood gushing out of my throat, and saw darkness envelop me.

I was walking through the crowd, calling to them, but nobody could hear me.  I reached out to my sister, and my arms went through her.  I reached out to my father, and he passed through me.  I knew I was dead, and saw a path enveloped in shadows literally fold in front of me.  With each step I took, the path got longer, and soon I was completely out of my own world and on the shadow path.  I heard whispers, and I felt strangely empty.

At long last I came to a gate and a tall, muscular woman clad in black saw me and nodded.  "Greetings, my Lord."

"Is Her Ladyship here?"

"She is."

The gate opened, and I was escorted by a man and a woman to Hela, who was the most startling sight I ever laid eyes on.  (As well as the most rotten smell I ever had pleasure to inhale.)  Hela smiled at me, or half her face smiled, and she presented her living hand to me, so I knew I was really dead.  She had me sit down with her, and after she had stared at me awhile, unspeaking, she said, "You can go."

"Go?"

"Yes, you can go."  Hela nodded.  "Please go now."

"Go?"

"Yes, go back to your people."

"But I gave my life."

Hela smiled again.  "And you did the right thing.  For your willing sacrifice I am willing to grant you a reprieve.  For your selflessness I am willing to extend my compassion on the living.  You will walk my road before the first harvest, you will know the pangs of death so the living may not know the pangs of famine that brings on death."  She stood up, slowly, rocking a little bit, and pointed to the door with her skeletal hand.  "Go now, Ingvi Frey.  This is not your home.  You need to be with the living right now."

And I walked through the door of Hela's castle, and was aware as I stepped through Mordgud's gate, back onto the path, of great pain throughout my entire body, especially where I had been stabbed, and especially where the vultures had begun picking off my flesh.

I felt the pain surge through my body, and felt the numbness clear from my head, so that I was made fully aware of the emptiness of my disembodiment, the emptiness I felt totally separated from those I love, the emptiness of death.  I knew what it was like for people to die, and I knew I had to give myself every year to ensure the fertility of the soil, so they would not know that emptiness too soon; besides which, it is easier to enjoy life with a full stomach.  I felt Sunna's light on my face, and soon heard the familiar sounds of chirping birds.  I saw a procession up and down the path, greeting me with shouts and whistles, and song:

Gifts of the Golden God,
you have given us life in full,
we offer gifts to You now,
our love, our lives, our all.
Gifts of Ingvi Frey,
the Lord who heals the land,
we rejoice in gratitude
that You care and understand.

So it goes that once a year on the eve of the first harvest, I am cut down and my blood seeps into the soil of Vanaheim, and into the soil of other worlds, to make the soil fertile year-round.  In thanks for my sacrifice, upon my return from Hela's realm, I am given the first fruits of the harvest in a feast.  In my love of my adoring people, I give them light, the light of My soul, for them to be light to one another, and do the work that maintains the world.

(C) 2007 Sigrun Freyskona.