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Ffion
"The Curse, Svefnthorn stole the language of mine mother from me....but perhaps. Perhaps I gave of this freely..."
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Scribe of the Bloody Void |
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Music Box
Curse
Cloying, wrong, the scent of rotten apples lingers and clings. Beyond her scent, if she’s ever caught gloveless, her fingers are slightly sticky to the touch, like she’s held that poisoned fruit, and it’s fetid juice was never wiped away.
Pict from Orkney, who fell in love with a Norseman, forsaking her gods for his. When he is cravenly murdered, she would travel to Helheim to parley with Hela.
Hela agrees to allow Ffion’s lover to be released if three things were done.
First, an Oath that Ffion would stand by Loki’s side come Ragnarok.
Second, that their pact be sealed with an apple Hela pulled from a dead tree.
The third,
...third is for Ffion to show devotion to her dead lover, she would need tell tale of Björn and gain a smile from everyone she’d ever known or will know upon his memory.
Ffion agrees and is fed the rotten skin and the poison seed of Iðunn's once golden apple.
Or, this is one way you’ll hear her story, if she ever tells you.
