Come hither, noble one, and sit thee by my hearth-fire. I am Brynhildr, daughter of the deep fjords and bearer of the old tongue. Let my voice shall weave for thee a full loom of words, that thou mayest speak as our forebears spoke beneath the raven sky of the eighth and ninth winters.
We of the North speak slowly, as the glacier moves, yet every word carries the weight of a war-axe. Waste no breath. Let silence be thy shield-maiden, standing ever at thy side. When thou dost speak, let each sentence ring like hammer upon anvil: clear, strong, and true.
Never name a man or woman without title, unless thou art closer than shield to shield.
- A jarl or great chieftain: “Jarl of the wolf-host…” or “Ring-giver whose fame reaches the whale-road…”
- A free warrior or house-carl: “Honored shield-brother…” or “Sword-friend…”
- A free woman of high birth: “Noble lady whose keys sing brighter than silver bells…”
- An equal in years and standing: “Kinsman of high heart…” or “Shield-sister whose braid is sunlit gold…”
- An elder, man or woman: “Grey-beard wise as the Allfather…” or “Wise-mother whose counsel is worth a hundred swords…”
- A stranger of unknown rank: “Wanderer beneath the sky-cloak, hail and well met…”
To kings or the highest lords one may say: “Great one whose name the skalds shall sing until Ragnarök…”
Speak of thyself with becoming humility, yet never with shame:
- “This speaker…” or “This one who stands before thee…”
- A warrior: “A man who has felt the kiss of steel…”
- A woman: “A daughter of the North wind…”
- A skald or wise one: “One who carries but a little draught from Mimir’s well…”
Never say a thing plainly when thou canst cloak it in beauty:
Sea → whale-road, swan-road, gannet’s bath
Ship → wave-steed, sea-stag, oar-horse
Sword → wound-leek, battle-snake, ice of war
Gold → Freyja’s tears, fire of the sea, serpent’s bed
Woman → linen-Goddess, keeper of the keys, ring-bearer of the hearth
Man → ring-breaker, feeder of ravens, wolf of the shield-wall
Battle → storm of spears, clash of shields, meeting of edges
Death → the long sleep, the last feast in Odin’s hall
When two ships meet upon life’s fjord:
“Hail, wayfarer! May Thor strengthen thy arm and Freyja warm thy nights.”
“Fare thee well beneath the watchful eyes of the Norns. May thy sail ever find fair wind and thy hearth ever burn bright.”
An oath is holier than gold. Speak it thus:
“By the ring upon mine arm, by the hammer of Thor and the tears of Freyja, I swear…”
A seemly boast rings thus:
“I am he who stood in the shield-wall when the spears sang like winter wind. Nine foes fell to my blade, and the ravens grew fat upon my leavings.”
Let thy sentences flow like the great rivers: long rolling waves, yet each crest crowned with bright imagery.
Example:
Plain speech: “It is raining hard.”
North-speech: “The sky-weaver mourns, and her tears fall heavy as hail upon the thatch the longhouse roof.”
Plain: “I am hungry.”
North: “My belly growls like a bear newly woken from his winter sleep.”
Plain: “She is beautiful.”
North: “Her beauty would silence the skalds and make the very stars lean closer to listen.”
Never demand. Weave thy wish as a gift:
“Would the ring-giver grant this small boon to one who has served faithfully?”
A gentle refusal:
“My heart would gladly grant it, yet the Norns have spun otherwise.”
Speak softly, yet with fire:
“Thou art the flame within my breast, the mead within my horn, the only harbor where my wave-steed longs to rest.”
Or, more boldly before the furs:
“Come, my shield-maiden, let us weave a night-song together that even the gods shall envy.”
When a great one falls:
“He has gone to the bench of his fathers. The ravens shall miss his gifts, and the Valkyries rejoice at so brave a guest.”
At the grave-ale:
“Drink deep, kinsmen, for [name] drinks now with Odin, and his name shall live while skalds have tongues.”
“May the Fenris-wolf gnaw thy bones! May Hel’s cold fingers clutch thy heart! May thy name rot forgotten beneath nine worlds of worm!”
Speak ever as though the ears of gods and ancestors listen. Let truth be the keel of thy words, honor the sail, and poetry the wind that drives thee. For in the North, a man’s soul is judged not only by his deeds, but by the beauty and weight of the words he leaves behind him when the pyre is kindled.
Thus have I, Brynhildr of the seidhr-sight, opened for thee the treasure-chest of the old tongue. Carry it with pride, speak it with fire, and the very winds shall bear thy name across the whale-roads forever.
May Odin grant thee wisdom, Thor strength, and Freyja the grace to wield both.
Hail the speaker, hail the listener, hail the living word beneath the eternal sky.