Vetrnætr Colouring Page and Story

 

The Promise in the Winter: A Heathen Tale for Winter Nights

Long, long ago, in the shining halls of Asgard, there lived the God, Freyr. He was the God of sunshine, rain, and all the green things that grow. Wherever Freyr went flowers bloomed, and fields grew heavy with grain.

One day, Freyr climbed into Odin’s high seat, the magical throne from which one could see all the worlds. His eyes wandered far, beyond the homes of the Gods, until they rested on Jötunheim, the land of the Frost Giants.

There, walking in a garden of gold, was a maiden so radiant that the ice itself seemed to glitter with warmth. Her name was Gerðr. The moment Freyr saw her, his heart was captured like sunlight in a drop of dew.

---

Freyr could not eat.

Freyr could not sleep.

Even the sound of the wind in the fields seemed to whisper her name.

At last, he sent his loyal servant Skírnir to find Gerðr and tell her of his love. But Gerðr was cautious. She was of the Frost Giants, and Freyr was a God of the Vanir, living in Asgard with the Æsir. Their worlds were far apart.

Skírnir told her of Freyr’s kindness, his care for the land, and the joy he brought to both Gods and humans. He gave her gifts—precious apples from Iðunn’s orchard and a golden ring that produced more rings—and spoke of how life could bloom between them.

Still, Gerðr was hesitant to leave her home. Skírnir became impatient and angry and threatened Gerðr and her family with his sword. He threatened her with magic. 

Gerðr could see that Skírnir was not very wise, and that Freyr had been foolish to send him. However, she realized he was not as powerful as he was claiming to be. She could tell he was as scared of failing in his quest, as she was about leaving her home. She knew her life would be beautiful in Freyr’s lands, and that she was the one who had the power to decide what future she wanted.

At last, Gerðr agreed. She would meet Freyr… but not right away. She loved her home and wanted to properly bid it farewell.

She said, “In nine nights, in the green grove called Barri, we shall meet.”

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Nine nights! To Freyr, it felt like forever. The snow was already beginning to fall, and the fields lay sleeping beneath their white blankets. But Freyr waited with hope, for he knew that Gerðr’s coming meant the return of warmth to his lovesick heart, and also the promise of a new growing season on Midgard.

When the ninth night came, Freyr and Gerðr met in the grove. Frost was melted away by the sun in Midgard. When they joined hands, the land was blessed with the promise of life returning after the long winter.

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So, every year at Winter Nights, when the fields are bare and the days grow short, the people remember Freyr and Gerðr. They give thanks for the harvest just gathered, honour the ancestors who came before, and look ahead to the coming Summer season.

They say:

“To Freyr, for frith and plenty!

To Gerðr, for the promise of growth!

To the Earth, for life anew.

Til árs ok friðar.!”

And though the snow may lie deep, Winter Nights reminds us that even in the coldest season, the seeds of Summer are already waiting below our feet.

The End.

Midsommar Colouring Page and Story

 

The Day Thor Got Married… Sort Of: A Heathen Tale for Midsummer

Long, long ago, when the days were long and the Sun hardly seemed to set, trouble came to the Gods.

One morning, Thor, the God of the Midsummer storms, reached for his mighty hammer Mjölnir—only to find it was gone! Without his hammer, the mountains would not shake, the storms would not roll, and the Jotunn might dare to attack.

Thor stormed into the hall of Freyja, the beautiful Goddess whose amber necklace shone light sunlight on summer fields. 

“Freyja! Lend me your feather cloak so I can fly to find my hammer!” he demanded.

But after some back and forth about if that would indeed work, it was Loki, clever and sly, who flew off to search. He soon returned with news:

“The giant Thrym has stolen Mjölnir. He will give it back… only if Freyja marries him.”

---

Freyja’s eyes blazed like fire.

“Marry that lout? Never!” she roared. Brisingamen rattled with anger about her neck.

The Gods gathered to plan. Heimdall, the watchman of the Gods, spoke up with a twinkle in his eye:

“If Thrym wants a bride, we shall give him one… Thor, you will be the bride!”

Thor’s jaw dropped. “Me?!”

But without his hammer, the land would not be safe—so eventually he agreed.

---

They dressed Thor in a bridal gown, draped him with Freyja’s shining necklace, and placed a bridal veil over his red beard. Loki, grinning from ear to ear, dressed as his bridesmaid.

Together they rode in a grand cart pulled by Thor’s goats, all the way to Jötunheim.

When Thrym saw “Freyja” arrive, he boasted of the treasures he had prepared. At the wedding feast, Thor ate an entire ox, eight salmon, and drank three barrels of mead.

“Such an appetite!” Thrym whispered.

“She has not eaten in eight days, so eager was she for the wedding,” Loki replied smoothly.

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At last, Thrym brought forth Mjölnir to bless the “bride.” He placed it in Thor’s lap.

The thunder god seized the hammer, tore off the veil, and leapt to his feet. Lightning flashed, and with a roar, Thor sent the Jotunn running.

---

When Thor returned to Ásgard with his hammer, the Gods celebrated with a great feast under the Midsummer sun. They laughed, sang, and told the story of the day Thor wore a wedding dress to save the world.

---

So, at Midsummer, when the days are longest and the sun shines late into the night, we remember Thor’s “wedding.”

We feast, we laugh, we tell tales, we play games, and we celebrate the strength, cleverness, and joy that keep our world safe and bright.

We say:

“Hail Thor, protector of Midgard,

Mjolnir’s master, and good of the Midsummer storms!

Keep us safe and our lands fertile through the summer!”

And just as the Gods laughed together in the golden light, so do we, knowing the warmth will stay a little while longer before the Winter returns again.

The End.

Jól Colouring Page and Story

The Longest Night: A Heathen Tale for Jól

Long, long ago, when the world was young, the Gods watched that the Sol and Mani dance a circle through the sky, bringing Day and Night, Summer and Winter. But there was one night each year when darkness lingered longer than any other—the longest night.

The Gds knew this was a special time, for from that night onward, the Sun’s light would begin to grow again. And in that deep midwinter darkness, the worlds came closer together: the realm of the living, the realm of the dead, and the halls of the Gods.

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On that night, the Yule God, Odin, rode forth on Sleipnir, his eight-legged steed. He was joined by Freyja, the bright goddess of love, beauty, war, and magic.

Together, they led the Wild Hunt—a great host of riders and spirits that swept across the Winter sky. With them rode the honoured dead, our ancestors, who came to visit their kin by the flickering firelight, but there were also mischievous spirits who would play tricks on humankind if they were out after dark, and even malicious spirits who would chase humans through the night if they had the chance. It was easy to know when the Wild Hunt drew near because you could hear their shrieking on the wind. Humankind knew to stay inside. The honoured dead could always find their way around the hearth fire, but the other spirits could not come in out of the darkness unless someone foolish bade them.

---

In the roots of the great tree Yggdrasil, the three Norns—Urðr, Verðandi, and Skuld—sat at their well. They wove the threads of fate for Gods and mortals alike into a rich tapestry, memory, becoming, and what shall be. On Jól, they listened closely to the voices of the living, for this was a night when wishes, oaths, and memories could weave themselves more strongly into the great tapestry of the nine worlds.

---

So the people gathered in their homes. They lit bright fires to guide the ancestors’ way and set out food and drink to honour them. They left a little grain, hay, or bread for Sleipnir, and a strong cup of drink so Odin would bless their household with good fortune if he happened upon their home.

They sang songs to call the Sun back, told stories of the Gods, and spoke the names of those who had gone before them over the horn, so they would never be forgotten.

And when the night was darkest, they remembered:

“The sun will return.

The threads of fate are still being woven.

Our Kin, both living and dead, are with us still,

To keep us strong through the darkest time.”

---

From that longest night onward, each day grew a little brighter. Jól was not just the turning of the Sun—it was the turning of the heart, the weaving of love, memory, and hope through all the worlds.

And so it is to this day:

We honour Odin for his wisdom,

Freyja for her love and magic,

The Norns for their weaving of fate,

And the honoured dead who celebrate beside us in the firelight.

The End.

 

Sigrblót Colouring Page and Story

 

How Summer Returned: A Heathen Tale for Sigrblót

Long, long ago, before there were trees or flowers, birds or bumblebees, or even you and me, there was only a great emptiness called Ginnungagap. Imagine looking as far as your eyes could see in every direction and there being nothing to see at all except darkness. To the north of this emptiness was a world of ice and snow called Niflheim, and to the south was a land of fire and heat called Muspelheim.

Where the cold and heat met, they hissed and steamed—and from that mist came a giant named Ymir, and a great cow named Auðumbla. The cow licked salty ice blocks and uncovered a new being: Búri, the first of the Gods. From him came more Gods, and soon, the world was made!

The Gods shaped the Earth from Ymir’s body: his flesh became the soil, his bones the mountains, his teeth the rocks, and his skull the sky. They named the world Midgard, and it became the home of humankind. Above it sat the world of Asgard, the home of the Gods known as the Æsir

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But in the far reaches of the sky, two great forces still battled each year: Winter, strong and cold, and Summer, bright and bold.

Winter was the time of the Jötunn. They made the nights long and the ground hard. A white cloak of frost draped over the Earth. It was a time of sickness and death. People huddled in their homes to stay safe, telling stories, and dreaming of warmth. 

Summer was the time of the shining goddess, Sól, riding a chariot pulled by fiery steeds. Her hair was woven with wildflowers, and when she rode across the sky, the frost melted beneath her wheels.

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Each year, the people waited to see who would win the battle, Winter or Summer. If Winter stayed too long, crops wouldn’t grow and food would be scarce. But if Summer won, the sun would shine again, animals would return, and seeds could be planted.

So the people gathered at the time of Sigrblót, the Victory Blessing, around the first full moon after the new moon after the Vernal Equinox. They sang songs, gave thanks to the Gods—especially Sól, the brilliant goddess of the Sun—and made offerings for a good growing season. They lit fires to chase away Winter's chill and welcomed Summer with feasts, songs, and games.

They said:

“Hail Sól, for victory over the Winter!

Bless us with your radiant rays, for good crops!

May we feel your warmth and life here upon Midgard!”

They knew that Sigrblót was not just about warriors winning battles—it was also about the warmth of the Sun winning over cold, light winning over darkness, health winning over sickness, and hope winning over fear.

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So, each year, when the snow begins to melt and tiny buds appear on the trees, remember the story of Summer's ride and Winter’s retreat. Celebrate Sigrblót by spending time outside, making ready the ground for planting, or thanking the Sun and the Earth for all they give us.

For just like the Gods shaped the world from the old, we too shape the new season with our hopes, our songs, and our joy.

The End.

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 Welcome youth and families! This blog is meant for Heathen kids, to learn about all things Heathen and have fun, too!