A witch dwells to the east of Midgard, in the forest called Ironwood. ◜—Gylfaginning◞
There is a hut in the Ironwoods, by a small hill that overlooks a clearing. It is where is a witch — and her familiar, a large hound with bloodstained fur — is said to live. Or so the people in the surrounding villages whisper, not that they have actually ever wandered close enough to the forest to truly catch a glimpse of her. Deep down, they know there's something else in there, and they know to stay clear of it; the few who had ever dared to wander into the woods had not returned with their minds and sanity intact.
But there is no witch, only a woman, though she looks like one anyway, which is perhaps the reason for the stories. Half of her body is covered in strange scars, as if her flesh had already started to rot though she was still living. But her eyes are a brilliant green, and her hair, braided and snaking all the way to her thighs, is a golden blonde.
That afternoon she's perched atop the hill, watching the sun set while she weaves a crown of flowers with her hands. Beside her, her dog lies contentedly. She places the crown on his head when she finishes, smiling quietly to herself.
Hel has never seen the world beyond the woods. She is afraid — of the people who would take up arms against her with just one look of her disfigured face; of Odin, who had decreed that terrible punishment will befall her and her family and their clan if they displease him in any way. She had only been a child back then, but she still remembers the way Odin had looked at her, how angry and repulsed and merciless he'd been.
You are a monster, Odin had said.
That is what she fears most of all. That they had been right all along, that she's going to do unspeakable, terrible things because she just can't help it.
Bucky has heard the rumors and stories about the Ironwoods Witch but given everything he’s lived through? It doesn’t seem like something to worry himself over very much. Mostly, it all sounds like cautionary tales that parents tell their children so they stay out of places they might get hurt.
He never might have guessed there was really anyone living out here, so deep into the forest. But he’d seen her himself. Not a witch as far as he could tell, but a woman who’s had a whole section of society turn their backs against her. He knows what that’s like. Maybe that’s what’s brought him back a second time.
She probably wouldn’t expect him to keep the promise of returning, “people never do.” she had told him, but she’ll find soon enough that Bucky is a man of his word, if he’s anything at all.
So as the sun begins to set, she’ll see the figure in the distance headed up the hill. He’s got a couple of bags in one hand and once he’s close enough it’s obvious it’s some sort of to-go packed meal from one of the cafes in town.
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◜—Gylfaginning◞
There is a hut in the Ironwoods, by a small hill that overlooks a clearing. It is where is a witch — and her familiar, a large hound with bloodstained fur — is said to live. Or so the people in the surrounding villages whisper, not that they have actually ever wandered close enough to the forest to truly catch a glimpse of her. Deep down, they know there's something else in there, and they know to stay clear of it; the few who had ever dared to wander into the woods had not returned with their minds and sanity intact.
But there is no witch, only a woman, though she looks like one anyway, which is perhaps the reason for the stories. Half of her body is covered in strange scars, as if her flesh had already started to rot though she was still living. But her eyes are a brilliant green, and her hair, braided and snaking all the way to her thighs, is a golden blonde.
That afternoon she's perched atop the hill, watching the sun set while she weaves a crown of flowers with her hands. Beside her, her dog lies contentedly. She places the crown on his head when she finishes, smiling quietly to herself.
Hel has never seen the world beyond the woods. She is afraid — of the people who would take up arms against her with just one look of her disfigured face; of Odin, who had decreed that terrible punishment will befall her and her family and their clan if they displease him in any way. She had only been a child back then, but she still remembers the way Odin had looked at her, how angry and repulsed and merciless he'd been.
You are a monster, Odin had said.
That is what she fears most of all. That they had been right all along, that she's going to do unspeakable, terrible things because she just can't help it.
Idk man. Just winging it lmaooo
He never might have guessed there was really anyone living out here, so deep into the forest. But he’d seen her himself. Not a witch as far as he could tell, but a woman who’s had a whole section of society turn their backs against her. He knows what that’s like. Maybe that’s what’s brought him back a second time.
She probably wouldn’t expect him to keep the promise of returning, “people never do.” she had told him, but she’ll find soon enough that Bucky is a man of his word, if he’s anything at all.
So as the sun begins to set, she’ll see the figure in the distance headed up the hill. He’s got a couple of bags in one hand and once he’s close enough it’s obvious it’s some sort of to-go packed meal from one of the cafes in town.