Sing, oh Muse, Sing

Hnoss giggled happily as she trodden along the many halls of Fólkvangr.

Hnoss was in a good mood, and for a good reason. Her mother: Freya was at home at last.

Freya would travel the realms; aiding the weak and victimized, which is why she rarely saw her daughters, whom she begat with Óðr-Hayden-Christensen. These days: Hnoss and her sister: Gersemi were both cared for by Heimdal, Jörmungandr, Fenrir, and Ratatoskr.

Hnoss stood before the door to her mother's room.

She knew that Freya was within; so Hnoss took a step forward, then abruptly halted, as clanging echoed from within the room.

Hnoss opened the door gently, peeking inside, where she saw the source of the clanging.

Pearls.

Pearls were hitting the floor.

Hnoss' heart shattered when she saw the source of the pearls.

It was her mother.

Freya was looking out the window, crying pearls.

Óðr had been kind and good towards her.

The years they had spent together were some of Freya's happiest memories.

But it was not meant to last…

They simply grew apart. Losing interest in one another.

Freya did not cry out of sorrow, but out of joy.

Joy that she had experienced such love and happiness.

She had never loved anyone like she had loved Óðr.

Hnoss did not seem to realize the difference between love and sorrow. All she saw was that her mother was crying. Hnoss so desperately wanted to help, but there was only one thing which could possibly cheer her mother up.

Singing.

Problem was… Hnoss could not sing, her sister could.

Hnoss was not about to let her sister get all the credit, so she had decided on a cause of action.

Hnoss had decided to pay the local Fossegrim a visit, and ask him to teach her how to sing.

Hnoss was outside, unsure where to begin.

The Fossegrim was known, but he only made himself known on his own terms.

Hnoss herself started crying pearls; she truly wished to cheer her mother up…

Hnoss couldn't help but listen to the wind. There was a melody to the breeze.

Hnoss started following the singing air.

She found the source of the music; it was the Fossegrim, moved by the child's plight.

Hnoss approached the trollish creature.

The Fossegrim was covered in moss, and held itself up with the help of his staff.

Fossegrim looked down at Hnoss with his warm and welcoming eyes.

" Child, what ails you? "

" I can't bear my mother's sorrow… "

Fossegrim was moved.

" How may I help? "

" I wish to cheer her up by singing! But I know not how… "

The Fossegrim was moved once more.

" I will teach you. "

What should have taken days and years, was condensed into a few lessons.

Hnoss returned to Fólkvangr, to a Freya asking: where have you been?

The wily child did not answer her mother, she merely sang.

Freya could not believe her ears. Her daughter had never displayed such a skill.

Hnoss had not only moved her mother's heart, but she too moved the whole of Fólkvangr.

(She made her teacher proud.)

Child and mother embraced.

Each crying pearls of joy.

Hnoss' song was echoing throughout the halls.