Folkvang's Gate

 by Alfgeir Starkhendr

(Introductory comments—Although it is known that Freyja is a Goddess of War as well as Love, and that half of those who die in combat go with Her to Sessrúmnir rather than to Odhinn's abode Valhöll (Grímnismál 14), there are no coherent legends or Eddic poetry surviving that describe Her in this way. Hence this is almost entirely from poetic vision... Notes follow, numbered by line--Alfgeir Starkhendr, aka Bill the Witch Doctor)

Freya23Once the light shone long, and the bloom was on the flower
Now, though summer hath not gone, the days are dark with woe.
Cold blow the winds, their wyrd-song hard and sharp
As the steel now drawn to deal the doom of war.
The folk gather at the weapon-take, welling
With words of fighting-wisdom for their warriors:
Boasts and tears, and hails and farewells,
The drightens hold redes, asking thoughts of their thanes— (note 8)
Soon all will set out for the marches. (note 9)

In the misty wood will the mighty find their foe,
Another folk as well loved and led
Such as they, their hearts steeled to the strife
Stirred between them: be this wisdom or folly?
Were it either or both, this day is made offering
As dire follow the dísir to the gates of night. (note 15)
Before ready ranks the drightens ride grimly;
With spear and scream they spring fell to the fray
As high o'erhead the Hawk Lady singeth. (note 18)

One among many, the warrior Vindhauk,
Viewed through Her wing-cloak Vanadís fair:

(Vindhauk:)

"Who is this Lady that lingereth lovely
High on the wind, this battle beholding?
Is this my wyrd that I meet on this day?
Though fear Her I ought, mine heart fain would love Her."

(Freyja:)

"I am the Hawk of Battle's Hunt—
Knowest thou the way to My mound of might?
To My green and gleaming glade,
To the field of the Shining Folk arrayed
Around their warriors wild and fair—
What wouldst thou give to be of Mine host?
What wouldst thou swear to serve Me?
To sup in Sessrumnir, fain to Love's Fire—
Knowest thou the way to Folkvang's Gate?

"Fear not the eye of thy Freyja upon thee,
Vindhauk, Mine Own in love and in luck.
Ask what thou wilt, for I will speak truly
If answerest in turn as I wish."

(Vindhauk:)

"My Lady, I swear that my luck is Thine Own
To weave as Thou wilt, my love freely given.
I would know the way to Thine holy hall,
And be of Thine host wild and fair.
Ask what Thou wishest, I will give it and more—
Now, what wyrd wouldst Thou work here this eve?"

(Freyja:)

"I am the Torch of Battle's Dusk—
When the battle is pitched (as the lots from the cup) (note 45)
Do I set fire to the warriors' souls,
Strike sparks with steel and tinder-flesh
To kindle the flames of the fray.
I cast the fire-glow on the shield-wall—
Shimmering in the shadow of death,
See Me silhouetted in swords held high
Against a sky deep-hued as red gold. (note 52)
I fill the fighters with bravery bright,
That they break as waves against the strand,
That shoal of shields to wash away—
For none need fear Me who fear not death,
And none are so loved as those who fear not Me.
Hail them as lovers, lying in battle's bed,
Giving no quarter and taking none,
With spear upon shield, sword upon sword,
Amidst the rosy smiling of axes
Until shaft is sheathed deep in warm, wet flesh—
And the gasp, and the grasp, the cry and release—
Filleth Me with joy and that high holy heat!
O, wanton am I in war, luck and love!
Blessing the blade that stirreth the strife,
Letting some live, their luck-fires leaping,
And others to die, winning what none may know
Who have not fallen true in the fight.
Those left alive may mourn if they must
For their own brief loss, but pity not
The warrior's life, well-lived, well-left,
Who hath now a seat in Sessrúmnir."

(Vindhauk:)

"What manner of warrior wouldst Thou have
From the harrowing-field of the fight—
High-born or humble? Scatheless or scarred?
Am I such an one for Thy wish?
Answer me now ere I die unknowing
As I stride into strife of the strong."

(Freyja:)

"I am the Rose of Battle's Grove--
The arrows of My lust fly freely,
Thick as My thorns on a wind of woe.
I dance in delight amidst flashing blades:
Writhing red and wet I whirl,
My wingbeats the wyrd of drighten and thane,
Shivering shield and hewing helm.
When bronze wore the brave into battle,
And the braver went naked, needing naught
But that shining shield, around and within,
The Boar's head did rend swords to shards
And spears to splinters, as war-helm warding. (notes 87-91)
My slender lips, shining keen and loving,
Kiss the fey and cut free the cords (note 93)
Of life's length, Norn-bound at birth— (note 94)
O, wanton am I in war, wyrd and love!
I fain would have fighters lust for slain-faring, (note 96)
Facing full forward both fear and fire,
Given to glances of the war-birds' kisses, (note 98)
Shearing shaft and shield, dodging to and fro,
Until one openeth wide to that dear and dread thrust:
Deep into quivering flesh it delveth,
Showing the hallowed way to the heart
While life's fire flickereth all around—
O, it maketh My wings to flutter!
Outstretched am I to gather in this glory—
Wilt thou not come within, and find
Thine own wings, and the way to Folkvang's Gate?"

(Vindhauk:)

"If this be the offering Thou dost ask,
What wyrd awaiteth the kin of Thy crop?
Who will guide us to Thy glimmering gate,
And on what wings will we fly?
Answer me now ere I die unknowing,
As fearless I face many foes."

(Freyja:)

"I am the Queen of Battle's Swarm—
My sig-wives harvest the bloom of youth. (note 115)
From marrow is made the mead of Mine hall,
Red honey wrung from rosy flesh hewn, (notes 116-117)
Trickling freely from lives led true.
My kisses give grim ones to glory:
No grief be known to kin left living—
The beloved shall see their lovers again. (notes 120-121)
My blessing bringeth wings to thy soul,
My breath doth lift thee high aloft—
Now, fly whither sweetly sing My sig-wives
And be gathered together to Folkvang's Gate.
The way is shown to Vanaheim—
The gate doth shimmer in the smoke
O'er the fires of any battle hard-fought—
Where'er the warm red dew doth fall
That halloweth any field made fell.
Full half these heroes are Mine Own: (note 131)
These shall I meet with mead in welcome,
With arms wide and warm shall enfold them,
For they have given all unto My glory:
Now find them naked to Folkvang newborn—
O, wanton am I in war, love and lust!
Thus will I give them rest and joy and love,
And oneness with those who have come before—
Most welcome are they in Mine high and hallowed hall!"

(Vindhauk:)

"What beauty bideth whither we are bound?
In what form shall we fare in Folkvang?
What is Thy will for Thy warriors sworn,
Who have died to dwell with Thee?
Answer me now ere I die unknowing
As unflinching I fall and take flight."

(Freyja:)

"In Folkvang fair all is of green and gold
But for the bright blue sky and streams.
Of amber every dusk and dawn,
And of silver the light of the midnight moon—
Bright Bifröst hath not hues to match (note 150)
These shimmering fires of Vanaheim.
In Sessrúmnir the wild warriors do dwell,
And færies and furies and lovers revel,
Where ne'er the feast faileth while song stirreth hearts
With wisdom and wyrd of life, love and war.
By morn and marrow the mead is made;
Neither mourning nor sorrow be in its brewing—
Sweetly from Sessrúmnir streaming,
Freely forth to Folkvang flowing,
To bring to birth anew the brave ones.
From blood and bone their souls reborn,
The fairest flower of the fallen
Are hallowed all unto Mine hosting:
Where warriors wield not their weapons
For boast or greed or blood-lust only, (notes 164-165)
But, given over to love wholly,
These fiercest fighters of the folk
Follow whither Freyja wisheth.
How good to fight so side by side:
With comrades and kin to battle bound,
Lovers and warriors with wisdom warding—
None may whelm their shield-wall shining,
Nor withstand their need-kindled fury.
For no false need will Freyja lead them
Far from Holy Vanaheim,
For here Her warriors ward the wells
Where spring the sparks of that spiral fire
Of life, such that past all folly
Of men and Gods, ill ne'er will it harm. (notes 174-185)

"So am I sworn, to hold these holy
And warded well, that when the worlds
Cry out in need from root and bough,
That Laeradh's lands be greened anew. (note 183)
Ere Hœnir goeth back to Gladsheim, (note 184)
The seed 'tis safe, though sad will I be—
From Muspell and maw will be great My grief,
Twice-torn from the loss of My loves, (notes 185-188)
For Whom there will be no returning.
If Wise Ones this wyrd cannot change,
Mine oath must be kept, lest all be lost.

"Now Vindhauk, wilt so vow thyself
To sweet and sorrowing Vanadís?
Wouldst thou come within My wings
Enfolded freely, fain to thy Freyja?
Knowest now why warriors fey
Do not fear the felling stroke—
Would not ward away that blade
That stealeth life from limb and weaneth
All wights from this world?
Because of that which waiteth beyond,
That hall that is hope to all hearts true:
Where beauty and bravery abide in one breast,
Where life's fire burneth on the most holy harrow
And love, lust and laughter yet linger
E'er in the light of My joy."

(Vindhauk:)

"For the gift Thou hast given me,
I, Vindhauk, vow myself to Thee,
Enfold myself within Thy wings
And seek Thy kiss upon my soul.
Ne'er will another child of Midhgardh
Love Thee nor work Thy will so well.
Thou hast answered me truly, now I die knowing,
And gladly go to Folkvang's Gate."

Notes:

Line 8—Drightens are war-leaders; thanes are their lieutenants.

Line 9—Marches are borderlands.

Line 15—Dísir are female ancestral spirits, who accompany and ward their warriors in battle.

Line 18—Hawk Lady refers to Freyja, Queen of the dísir of Vanaheim.

Line 45—Ancient Germans were known to have practiced a form of divination involving runes being tossed from a cup.

Line 52—Red gold is a common kenning (poetic phrase) for blood.

Lines 87-91—In ancient times peoples of Germany and the Baltic Coastlands used Boar's Head helms (and often nothing else) as a magical warding in battle. Boars are most strongly associated with the Vanir.

Line 93—"Fey" means doomed to die (as opposed to Fay, Fae or Faye, meaning “Faerie”).

Line 94—The Nornir are spirits/Goddesses of wyrd Who, among other things, measure the length of one's life at birth.

Line 96—"Slain-faring" means one's last faring or battle.

Line 98—Ravens, also spears, arrows and other missiles.

Line 115—"Sig-wives" are bees, the "wives of victory." In this poetic vision Freyja is their Queen (similar to the Valkyries being led by Odhinn).

Lines 116-117—"Red honey" is the Vanic equivalent of red gold, i.e., blood.

Lines 120-121—Here Freyja vows that if the kin or beloved of Her chosen wish to rejoin their warriors in Sessrúmnir, they may. Sessrúmnir is not only for warriors, as Valhöll seems to be.

Line 131—The other half the battle-slain go to Odhinn in Valhöll, brought by His Valkyries. It is nowhere specified whether Their "arrangement" pertains to each battle, or to overall numbers of battle-slain. Also see below, the comments under notes 174-185.

Line 150—Bifröst ("Quaking bridge") is the bridge of rainbow-fire on which most must fare to get between the Upper and Lower worlds on the World-Tree.

Lines 164-165—The warriors of Folkvang do not spend their days as do those in Valhöll, fighting and dying to be regenerated at day's end. But when they do take up their weapons, watch out...

Lines 174-185—Freyja is gathering Her warriors not for Ragnarök but to guard the well-springs of life's fire, which in this poetic vision seems to have characteristics of both fluid and flame and which is "seeded" into each living being as the Vanic equivalent to Ond, the Æsic "breath of life." While Freyja has not come out and stated such, it is possible She is keeping Lif and Lifthrasir ("Life" and "Striving for Life") safe through the Fimbulwinter and Ragnarök's conflagration (Vafthrúdhnismál 44-45).
Speaking of which, She calls Ragnarök "folly" and in this vision feels it tragic for Odhinn (Whom She dearly loves) to be so bent on this needless and avoidable battle: the impression derived from these lines is that She could not agree with Odhinn on this after the Æsir-Vanir peace was made, and forced the division of the fallen warriors so that the Well-Springs of Life's Fire would be safely warded.

Line 183—Læradh means "shelterer," one of the World-Tree's names.

Line 184—Hœnir returns to Gladsheim from Vanaheim after Ragnarök.

Lines 185-188—Odhinn will be killed by Fenrir swallowing Him, and Freyja's Twin Brother Freyr by Surt, a lord of Muspelheim. Both are Her Lovers; counting Odh She will have lost three great loves, which certainly explains why She is known as the Goddess-Beautiful-In-Tears…

Artwork by Kat Harpin.