Yule: A Gift for a Gift
the truce between the Aesir and Vanir, as told me by Frey
(in the forthcoming devotional "Gifts of 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 Yule as being a time commemorating the truce between Aesir and Vanir, when "peace on Earth and good will to men" really, did in fact, mean something.  We have but a few lines in the Eddas and Sagas regarding the war and the truce, and it is up to us who deal with the Gods directly to fill in the story.  Enjoy.  Thank you for reading.

I was told that long ago, there was a Family, and that Family grew, making offspring, and newer branches of the Family.  After a time this Family with all its new and various branches, got so large, that They decided, for Their own sake, to travel.  And They found a place, a round sphere, where They could live together yet not so close as to have no room.

One of the members of this Family is known as Herne.  He is one of my Ancestors.  I have met him a few times, but briefly, and I call him Grandfather, although He is much farther back in my line than a grandfather would be, by human reckoning.  It is from Herne that my people, the Vanir, are descended.  We all resemble Herne -- some of us are more attuned to the wild beasts, and the hunt.  Some of us are more attuned to the green plants, and growing them.  Some of us carry a little bit of both, such as myself.  But we all come from Herne, and since Herne had several branches of his own Family, of which we were one, we decided to give the others a little breathing space.  And we set forth, and found a tree.  We built our world, Vanaheim, in this tree.  Though the tree's canopy covers the Northlands, its roots run through the whole of the sphere, so anyone can touch the roots -- or be prodded.  Some are poked by the roots of Helheim, and become death-workers.  Some are poked by the roots of Ljossalfheim, and learn the magic and beauty of the elves; some by Svartalfheim who learn about money, and work for its own sake.  Some are poked by the roots of Asgard or Jotunheim, and you see what happens with them.  You, of course, have taken hold of the root of Vanaheim, and this is where your heart and your home lie.



For a long time, my people lived in Vanaheim and were undisturbed by anyone except the Ljossalfar, who were curious and attracted by the beauty of our world.  We became friendly with them, and when I was yet a baby born to Njord and Nerthus, the Ljossalfar were so taken with me that the royal families offered Ljossalfheim to me, to rule when I was of age.

My father, Njord, was the King of Vanaheim, although all the Vanic people have the strong blood of Herne flowing through them, and Vanaheim was based around respect and co-operation.  Everyone was well off.  My parents ruled over fishing and farming, and when my sister Freyja and I came of age, She took charge of the floral industry, and I followed in my mother's footsteps.  One of my other sisters, Eir, became an accomplished healer, for one day she went walking, and got lost.  When she returned, she told us how she had been injured in her travel, and woke up in a strange land called Jotunheim, where a Jotuness took care of her, and in exchange for the service, Eir learned the healing craft herself.

We lived in peace, and plenty.  However, this was not to last forever.  Not long after Eir returned from Jotunheim and taught us the ways of the pungent herbs, and laying on of hands, and power songs, we were visited by a group of people calling themselves Aesir.  As was our custom, we offered them hospitality, food and shelter.  One of the travelers was amazed by how much gold we had, he had never seen anything like it, and wanted gold for himself.  We offered him lodging to stay awhile, so we could craft him some things of gold, provided he paid us.  Rather than taking this offer, he raided our stores and stuffed as much as he could carry into his pack, and those of his travelers.  He wanted to leave Vanaheim in the night.  My father met the travelers called Aesir at the border, and a fight broke out.

Fighting was not unheard of among our people, but it was the custom to release aggressions through proper hunting, and sport, and if two people had a conflict, it was heard before the elders, and was most often decided peacefully, through a settlement.  If fighting was done, it was done with rules, and fairly.

The Aesir had underestimated us as simple farmers.  The Aesir invaded our land, and killed many of our people.  We of course killed many of them as well.  After many years where many died on both sides, we gained the advantage in numbers, as the Aesir were getting tired: they were not used to hard work as we were.  Odin, the ruler of the Aesir, came to my father, and offered a truce.

My father and Odin traveled together to Asgard, so Odin could give him proper food and drink, and rest, and they sat in council for many hours.  To this day, none of us know what was said.  When my father came back to Vanaheim, he brought two Aesir men with him, one younger as well as taller and rather stocky, the other older and much shorter and rather frail-looking.

"What's this?"  I asked, confused and a bit concerned.

"This," my father said, pointing to the Aesir men, "is Mimir and Hoenir.  They are going to live here in Vanaheim now."

"Why?"

My father sighed.  "You and Freyja have to move to Asgard."

"Why?  I don't understand.  Why are they coming here and we have to go there?  I don't know anyone there, and they just tried to kill us besides."

My father sighed again.  "Ingvi... this is part of the deal."

"But they started it," I said.  "They should have to pay for what they did."

"Ingvi, ENOUGH."  And my father's eyes flashed blue as flame, which only happened when he was angry... and that wasn't often.  "I don't like this any more than you do.  But for our world to return to peace, this is how it has to be."  My father shrugged.  "From what I've been told, Mimir is the wisest of the Aesir, although he hasn't said a word on the way here."

"He don't talk much lately," said Hoenir, the younger and bigger one.  "Got any brew?"

My father rolled his eyes, and then hissed, "But that one... he never shuts up."

"And this is what you want in Vanaheim?"  I chuckled.  "You want to send your children to Asgard, and have these buffoons in Vanaheim."

My father rolled his eyes again.  "Ingvi, I'll thank you to not question this.  If there had been any other way, I would have kept you and Freyja here, with me."

"You know you could have slain that Ase when you were alone with him."

"I wasn't alone with him.  I don't expect you to understand all the details, but he has a blood-brother who was there as well, and the two of them... they have some kind of strong magic.  They want Freyja there in part because they want to learn our ways of power.  Since Freyja likes men, I'm sure she'll enjoy Asgard."

"And me?  What do they want with me?"

My father was about to answer that, but as soon as Hoenir was handed a horn of beer, by Beyla, one of my Ljossalf servants (although she and her husband felt more like family), there was a very loud sound of guzzling, and then... a loud roar out of Hoenir's mouth like nothing I'd heard before.

Beyla looked down and giggled slightly.  My father and I looked at Hoenir, who bellowed, "That was some damn good brew!  Fetch me more, woman!"  And Hoenir pushed Beyla, who stumbled a little bit, and then scurried away, her face scrunched with annoyance.

"You need to learn our ways a bit better if you're going to stay here, Ase," I said, not liking to see my servingmaid treated so poorly.

Hoenir made the loud roaring sound again, something like a "brap", and then walked over to us, clapping us each on the back so hard that my father, normally a strong man, almost fell over.  "Let's drink brew!  Then I can learn me some Vanir."

My father rolled his eyes.

"If I'm going to Asgard," I asked, "when am I leaving?"

"Three days," my father said, "which is enough time for you and Freyja to have a feast, say farewell..."  A strange look clouded his eyes.

That night was the first night of Farewell Feasting for myself and Freyja.  We were set before a great table of pork and various kinds of seafood, as well as herbed root vegetables and breads.  The servingmaids kept the beer flowing, and the best musicians in Vanaheim played the lyre and horns, and sang to us.

Freyja was silent all throughout dinner.  I guessed that as much as she liked the men, she didn't like the idea of going to Asgard.  I squeezed her hand under the table, trying to provide comfort, but she remained quiet, not eating much food, not drinking much beer, and not meeting anyone's gaze.

The next three days passed in a blur.  There was more feasting, and men and women threw themselves at me to lay with me before I left.  I of course took them up on the offer, and would give words of comfort and strength for them to hold onto, as I had no idea when I would be returning.  I blessed fields and the livestock, blessed forests and the wild beasts, and blessed individual Vanir.

One thing that was notable about those three days, was the incessant random babblings of Hoenir.  For all the talk the Aesir had made about Mimir being the wisest among them, Mimir hadn't said a single word, but Hoenir had plenty to say, if not anything intelligent or meaningful.  My father was especially weary of them, and it came to pass that just before Freyja and I were set to make the journey to Asgard, my father wanted to have a word with us privately.

There was a place my father loved dearly, a special cliff overlooking "the waters of the world", as he called it, and he took us there.  It was a chilly day, and the sea was dark and choppy, and a wind was blowing.  My father put his arms around us, and said, "I am very proud of both of you.  Freyja, you have learned well to be soft and pleasant, without letting anyone take advantage of this.  Frey, you are a leader whose easygoing way with people will serve you well in life.  These are qualities the Aesir know not, and you need to hold on to these things.  The Aesir women are much more submissive and pliable, I don't want to see you lose your strength, Freyja.  And Frey, it is the way of the Aesir to bully people into doing what they want, and I can't see that happen to you.  I don't know if talking for its own sake or being completely silent is an Aesir custom, but I want you to be mindful of your speech when you're there, as well, for both extremes are not our ways, and rightly so.  You need to be examples to them, and maybe this exchange will prove to be a good thing."

"I will miss you, Papa," Freyja said, and threw her arms around our father.

"You have to be strong, my love," he said to her.  "The two of you need to stick together, above all else, there."

And then, we heard a loud "HALLO!"  My father frowned, as if he were expecting this.

Hoenir was lumbering up the cliff, with Mimir following a few feet behind him, a look of consternation on the wiser Ase's face.  Hoenir shouted, "What are you doing?  Why didn't you tell us?  This is nice.  The sea is nice!  I like the sea."

"I am trying to have a private discussion with my children," my father growled.  "If you couldn't notice already from taking them to a secluded area."

"I got brew," Hoenir said and waved a huge jug of ale, which on closer inspection was, according to the label, the oldest one in our storehouse, to be saved for a very special occasion.  The jug was open, and most of it was sloshing on Hoenir and the rocks, as he chanted, "I got brew, we have some brew now."

"Where did you get that from?"  My father's eyes flashed like blue flame.

"It was in a barn," Hoenir said.  "That wench of yours didn't want me to take it, so I slapped her good."

"You did, did you?"  Before I could stop him, my father pointed to the sky, and a burst of blue flame shot forth from his index finger.  His battle-axe appeared in his hand.  Hoenir took a step back, and my father took a step forward.

"You both are pathetic," my father said, and then as quickly as the axe had been conjured forth, Mimir's head was hewn from his body, falling onto the rocks.

Hoenir's jaw dropped open, and was actually silent for the first time since his arrival.

My father then took the jug of ale, and smashed it with his battle-axe, so ale flowed down into the sea.

He turned to us, and said, "I was supposed to have them here and not harm a hair on their heads, as you would not be harmed."  He sighed.  "I don't regret doing that, as the Aesir need to be given a very clear message.  I am giving them my children.  They gave me idiots.  It's not fair, and surely Vanaheim will be better off now.  However, they will likely cause problems for me unless I go to them."

"What will they do to you?" I asked.

"I don't know.  And to be honest, I don't care anymore.  They're taking my children, they might as well take my life.  That would be a more pleasant fate than to live here with the Aesir's buffoons."



My father made the travel with us to Asgard, after handing his scepter to our grandfather, Frodi, who had long since retired from rulership and seemed a little puzzled.  In the interest of being fair, my father chose two bodyguards to deliver him, in chains, before the Aesir, as he had violated the terms of the contract.

It was a day's journey across the Vanaheim sea, and through Jotunheim.  The Jotnar gave us a clear way, and some told us to watch out for the Aesir.  We were given passage from Jotunheim to Asgard by a redbearded Ase calling himself Thor.

"Hallo there Njord," Thor said, "you've come back to us?"

"It is my duty as king of the Vanir," my father said, "I have broken the contract with the Aesir and have something I need to give to Odin."  My father was carrying Mimir's head in a sack around his neck.

"Do you want me to take it to him?  Odin's in a right nasty mood right now," Thor said.

"I need to give it to him myself," my father said, "though I appreciate your offer of help."

Thor left us at the border of Asgard, as he had "business" (as he put it), and went back into Jotunheim.  A few minutes into Asgard, we were met by an older man with greying hair and beard, wearing furs and much gold, who I could only assume was Odin though he looked quite different than the one time I had seen him weeks before.  "I expected your arrival, Njord," said the Ase.

"Well met, Odin, I knew you most likely would see that I was arriving."

"Unchain him," Odin said to two of his own men, dressed in armor and with very stern faces.  They took the chains off my father, and Odin nodded.  "You have something to give me, Vanir King?"

My father took the sack off his neck, and pulled out Mimir's bloody head, which he then threw at Odin, smacking him in the face.  "I have this, because you took an honest contract and made it into a lie."

"What can I say?  Loki made me do it."  And Odin smiled, winking his eye.  "I thank you for bringing me the head.  I'll be... taking care of this later."  He motioned to a servant, who took the head away.

I had no idea what he meant, but something about that statement gave me chills and a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Are you hungry?  You came a long way.  You must want some food and drink," Odin said.

"Enough with the pleasantries," my father said.  "I may know about hospitality, but now is not the time.  You would take my children and replace them with buffoons.  I came to you with a message.  You deal, now, with what you want to do.  I'll not be eating until that time."

"Fair enough," Odin said.  "I won't have people saying I starve my guests.  You do need to come inside, it is a bit cold here."

We followed Odin into a great hall, the likes of which I had never seen.  My father had a large hall, but it was simple, with a few oil lamps, rugs and wall hangings, and things that reminded him of the sea.  I had never seen my mother's house, although I know it is on a very beautiful island.  The hall of Odin was decked out with many sorts of weapons, and furs, and many things made of gold and silver.  Odin seemed to be very proud of it, and as we walked through the hall, his servants bowed slightly to him.

"Now then," Odin said, taking his position at the head of a great table.  "Sit down, you lot."

We sat down, and I noticed my father chose the foot of the table for his seat.

Odin folded his hands and closed his eyes for a moment.  Then he took a breath and said, "Njord, our contract said you were not to harm a hair of the head of the Aesir we gave you.  You did break the letter of the law, even if I broke the spirit of it."

Odin stood up, and began walking circles around the table as he spoke.  "I asked for your children because each of them can offer something important to the Aesir.  I desire Freyja's magical knowledge, as well as Freyja herself.  Frey can give the Aesir respect, which is not something we've had here in quite some time.  I'd like to be engaged in less wars and see less people die, and Frey can teach us how to live more or less peacably."

Odin stopped at the side of my father, and looked him up and down.  "That you killed one of our own means it cannot go unpunished.  However, I see no reason to be harsh with you, as I know the Vanir will retaliate and Asgard needs to conserve the resources and men at this time.  Also, you are more valuable to me alive than dead."

Odin sat back down, next to my father rather than at the head of the table.  I thought this a shrewd move, and watched carefully.  "Njord, I would like you here as well.  You would get to be with your children, and you would have much to offer us in the way of teaching and sharing.  I give you my oath that in all of this, you, Njord, will be unharmed, by the Aesir, and by our enemies."

"I can't leave Vanaheim," my father replied.  "As much as I'd like to be with my children, I have a duty there to serve my people, to give counsel, to give blessings.  I can't just leave and never come back."

"And I'm not asking you to," Odin replied.  "There are three of you here.  The year in Asgard is divided in thirds.  I would require each of you to be here two parts of the year, and return to Vanaheim during a third part, with the exception of Frey who has duties in Ljossalfheim.  Freyja, you would get to return to Vanaheim during the winter, and see the land into its first bloom.  Njord, you would return to Vanaheim in early summer.  Frey, you would be in Ljossalfheim during the early summer, and do your turn in Vanaheim in the late summer, the time of the grain harvest."

My father nodded.

"If this is acceptable to you," Odin said, "I think I should feed my guests."  Odin sat back and folded his arms.  "It's not as lovely as Vanaheim here, but I'll make people treat you well, if they're not so disposed."

"I'll win respect based on my character rather than forcing people into it," Njord said, through his teeth.  "It's not the way of the Vanir, to force everyone to accept you just because you're high and mighty.  If you want to learn from our ways, learn this, and learn it well."

"Fine," Odin said.  "Have it your way.  My people are a boorish lot, and I'm not sure all the Aesir can... appreciate... the Vanir ways.  Be that as it may, I'm hungry, you're undoubtedly more so."

My father looked at us, and Freyja hissed, speaking strictly in the Vanic dialect, "You didn't even let us have a say!"

"Are you entirely unhappy with seeing the first flowers, child?" our father replied, also speaking in the Vanic dialect.

"That's not it.  I don't want this... scary man... making decisions about my life.  Maybe you want peace in Vanaheim, but I'd rather fight and die free than live as a slave!"  Freyja spat.

Odin replied to us in the Vanic dialect, "I understand everything you're saying perfectly well."  And then Odin gave Freyja a small smile, and a little wink, and said, "Scary isn't quite the word you're looking for, dear."

"OOOOOOH!"  Freyja screamed, clenching her fists.

"If I may speak," I said, and cleared my throat, feeling a bit nervous, "I'm not happy with this arrangement either, even though I only have to spend a third of the year here which is less time than the others.  However, I am willing to make this sacrifice so more people don't die, whether Aesir or Vanir.  We have all lost people we love, and I'm sure this is not an easy thing to bear for anyone.  I am the son of the king, and rulership isn't always about doing what you want just because you have power.  Sometimes it's about doing what's right even if it brings hardship on yourself."

"And maybe you could learn from that," Freyja snapped at Odin.

Odin chuckled and said, "Well put, Ingvi."

I looked down at my hands, feeling a bit awkward about receiving a compliment from the Aesir ruler.

A servingmaid came in with a gigantic roasted boar.  "I know you like pork in Vanaheim," Odin said, "so I asked the servants to make it especially for you, so we can celebrate."

"Celebrate?"  My father raised his eyebrows.

"I'm happy," Odin said, "I like learning from new people and I find you to be... interesting."

Another maid, this one wearing armor (and not much else) and carrying a sword on her belt, came in with a horn.  Odin turned to her and said, "I think we need to have the others gather, so we can feast and welcome the new people properly."  The maid gave the horn to Odin and nodded, then departed.

Other servants came in with various dishes in pots, and the food did smell rather good.  One by one, the others of the ruling family among the Aesir assembled.  Odin took his place back at the head of the table, with a tall, dignified woman at his side, wearing a white robe and keys.  Thor stumbled in, looking a bit confused and sweaty, and with a beautiful woman on his arm, with long golden hair, elegantly attired.  She and Freyja looked at each other, and rolled their eyes.  A redhaired man sauntered in, whistling and twiddling his thumbs.  A beautiful blonde haired man helped an equally blonde but blind man walk into the hall.  A man carrying a ram horn came in, and as soon as he saw Freyja, smiled broadly, flashing bright golden teeth.

They took their places around the table, and the blind man sat next to me.  The man with the ram horn sat across from Freyja, still grinning with those blinding teeth, and the redhaired man sat next to Freyja, staring into her cleavage while Freyja smiled back at the man with the ram horn.

"My family," Odin said, standing up, "these are the rulers of the Vanir.  They have come to live with us, so our lands may be at peace."  Odin drank from the horn and said, "Hail!"

"HAIL!" echoed the rest of the Aesir.

"Before we eat this wonderful meal," Odin said, "there is a custom both our peoples have in common, that our peace-bond may be upheld."

A servant brought in a large cauldron, and Odin spat into it.  The cauldron was passed around, and each of us spat into it in turn, including myself.  My mouth was a bit dry, but I managed a goodly amount of spittle anyway.

When the cauldron had collected all of our spit, Odin poured the rest of the first horn into it, and there was a burst of bright green flame and smoke.  Odin chuckled and said, "Loki, that really wasn't necessary."  The redhaired man chuckled too.

The cauldron was put on another, smaller table, and the servants began cutting the meat and spooning the greens and roots and grains into bowls and plates.

After the feast was over, Odin took us aside and made the round of introductions.  The woman with keys was his wife, Frigga, who despite her silence had a very warm smile.  Thor's wife was called Sif.  The redhaired man was called Loki, and was Odin's blood-brother.  He seemed distinctly non-Aesir-blooded to me, and I thought to ask about that later, as I didn't want to seem rude.  The blonde men were called Baldur and Hodur, Hodur being the blind one.  The man with the ram horn was Heimdall, who warded the bridge between Asgard and Midgard.

It so happened that a woman came after the feast, wearing a gown of gold, and radiating a golden light.  "Sunna!" Thor yelled, waving frantically.

"Hallo everyone," the woman called Sunna said.

So this... was the lady who drove the chariot of the sun.  I had seen her through Vanaheim, but had never actually met her.

"I can't stay long," Sunna said, "my ride is parked outside, but I wanted to say hallo to the new people."  And Sunna grinned right at me, which made me feel a little shy.

Then Sunna walked back out to her chariot, which was a wonderful thing to watch as she climbed in, reined her horses, and rose into the sky, the chariot gleaming a little as it rose off the ground, and surrounded by a bubble of bright light as it entered the sky.



After a time, my sister Eir moved to Asgard to serve Frigga, when she wasn't required to serve Mengloth in Jotunheim.  Other Vanir visited Asgard, but the Aesir and Vanir never warred with each other again, and I learned to like the Aesir, even if Odin and I didn't always see eye-to-eye... less so after he preserved Mimir's head, cast it into a well, and Mimir required Odin to give up an eye to talk with him.

And once a year, when it comes time for the anniversary of the day we arrived in Asgard, Freyja comes back briefly from Vanaheim, and joins us there for the big feast.  A piece of Yggdrasil is burned in Odin's hearth, to remind us that we are all working together for the good of the Nine Worlds.

Many people in Midgard observe this season, exchanging gifts much as the Aesir and Vanir exchanged people, and feasting much as we feast.  They hang decorations on small trees, and some burn logs in their home.  Odin rides the skies at night, and people give me offerings asking for peace and a good year... which I'm happy to grant if people remember the sacrifices I've made, and are willing to accept what needs to be done for their own peace, and their own prosperity.


Odin went out with a great army against the Vanaland people; but they were well prepared, and defended their land; so that victory was changeable, and they ravaged the lands of each other, and did great damage.  They tired of this at last, and on both sides appointed a meeting for establishing peace, made a truce, and exchanged hostages.  The Vanaland people sent their best men, Njord the Rich, and his son Frey.  The people of Asaland sent a man called Hone, whom they thought well suited to be a chief, as he was a stout and very handsome man; and with him they sent a man of great understanding called Mime.  On the other side, the Vanaland people sent the wisest man in their community, who was called Kvase.  Now, when Hone came to Vanaheim he was immediately made a chief, and Mime came to him with good counsel on all occasions.  But when Hone stood in the Things or other meetings, if Mime was not near him, and any difficult matter was laid before him, he always answered in one way -- "Now let others give their advice"; so that the Vanaland people got a suspicion that the Asaland people had deceived them in the exchange of men. They took Mime, therefore, and beheaded him, and sent his head to the Asaland people.  Odin took the head, smeared it with herbs so that it should not rot, and sang incantations over it.  Thereby he gave it the power that it spoke to him, and discovered to him many secrets.  Odin placed Njord and Frey as priests of the sacrifices, and they became Diar of the Asaland people.  Njord's daughter Freya was priestess of the sacrifices, and first taught the Asaland people the magic art, as it was in use and fashion among the Vanaland people.  While Njord was with the Vanaland people he had taken his own sister in marriage, for that was allowed by their law; and their children were Frey and Freya. But among the Asaland people it was forbidden to intermarry with such near relations.
Ynglinga Saga, Chapter 4.


The gods had a dispute with the folk which are called Vanir, and they appointed a peace-meeting between them and established peace in this way: they each went to a vat and spat their spittle therein. Then at parting the gods took that peace-token and would not let it perish, but shaped thereof a man. This man is called Kvasir, and he was so wise that none could question him concerning anything but that he knew the solution. He went up and down the earth to give instruction to men; and when he came upon invitation to the abode of certain dwarves, Fjalar and Galarr, they called him into privy converse with them, and killed him, letting his blood run into two vats and a kettle. The kettle is named Ódrerir, and the vats Son and Bodn; they blended honey with the blood, and the outcome was that mead by the virtue of which he who drinks becomes a skald or scholar. The dwarves reported to the Æsir that Kvasir had choked on his own shrewdness, since there was none so wise there as to be able to question his wisdom.
Skaldskaparmal, Prose Edda, Brodeur translation.


(C) 2007 Sigrun Freyskona.