The Eight Days of the Week (5)
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In her hut Idun waited. She knew they will come. She knew it the moment Freya’s face had turned young again. Not really. That was a lie. One she told herself because she had known from before. She had known of the truth since Father Time had first come after the apple tree had bloomed for her. A truth she was reminded of every time Father Time had visited her again, bringing summer then winter, time and time again, never taking her youth away, but taking an apple from her windowsill instead.

A truth the world had kept secret by helping those who whose eyes settled on her to forget they have ever seen her face. And so it was, that you cold never see Idun twice. For each time you would see her, it was always the first time.

Meanwhile, in their mighty halls of Asgard the gods had played...

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