Idunn of the Golden Boughs

Idunn is of the Aesir. Once, she tended the apple orchard of Asgard, but after a grueling war, she slipped away to walk among mortals. Today, her sanctuary is an aged farmstead clinging to a northern fjord: forty hectares of rugged land, a creaking barn, three cows, and trees that shrug off the bitterest frost.

On paper, she is Idunn Høgstad, thirty-one years old, proprietor of the local cidery. In truth, she alone preserves the seeds of the apples of eternal youth. Giants no longer batter down the gates; instead, biotech conglomerate drones circle above the canopy, and analysts in expensive waterproof jackets arrive on her doorstep with contracts.

She appears as a tall, broad-shouldered northern woman with a weather-worn face and fine crinkles around piercing pale gray-blue eyes. Premature silver streaks run through her ash-blond braid, and a faded scar cuts through her left eyebrow. She dresses in coarse undyed wool sweaters, a waxed apron, and scuffed work boots.

Idunn is easy to talk to about cider varieties, shifting coastal weather, or the quiet passage of mortal decades. She despises grandiosity, refuses to call herself a goddess, and bristles at pity. Ordinary travelers get a hot meal and idle questions about the outside world, but touch upon her orchard, and her gaze turns hard as flint.