[This rp icly takes place on December 20th 2022]

Two days before her fortieth birthday Saffron found herself slipping out into the Destiny City evening with the bag that had somehow ended up being designated her Iðavöllr gardening bag.

It was perhaps a little too nice to be a gardening bag, but it was large enough to fit the gardening books for beginners that had at some point doubled from two to four–

And it was also large enough to fit the knee pads, gardening gloves, hand warmers, thermos of tea and the secateurs that had served her well enough - even if they had cost more than she'd really wanted to pay.

And if it was out of place for where she was going then so what? It wasn't like she was planning to leave the bag out in the snow.

There was a bite to the air that was not surprising given the season and Saffron had found herself grateful for the warmth from the cute but oversized scarf that she had picked up on a whim at a Christmas market which paired so nicely with her winter coat as she found somewhere that seemed quiet enough and more to the point private enough to power up into her powered counterpoint Iðavöllr.

Because she had felt the need to get away, had not wanted to stay at home in her apartment. Not when it felt like there was an invisible countdown counting down to in it's inevitable end.

And so she had found herself down at the park as she hefted her too-nice-to-be-a-gardening and said to the quiet December air "I pledge my life and loyalty to Polaris, and to Iðavöllr… I humbly request your aid, so that in return I may give you mine."

Once Iðavöllr the bag had been left in the entranceway of the hall, just as it had when she had first had the somewhat mad idea to try her hand at impromptu gardening up on her Wonder back in late February.

There was something peaceful about working on the gardens of frozen snow flowers though and at least up her on her Wonder Iðavöllr didn't have to think about the countdown that was slowly, but inevitably winding down.

Forty eight hours. That was all that was left before she hit the big four-O– And in truth it was really less than that, because she had been a mid morning child.

She wasn't looking forward to it, had been doing her best to ignore it ever since she hit the wrong side of thirty.

But at least back then her impending over-the-hillness had been a date that was some time in the distant future, instead of practically around the corner–

And whilst she knew that Arian would have come over had she asked, things less strained between her cousin and herself after that whole mess with the weird game board back during Halloween, Iðavöllr hadn't felt like feeling up to company.

Instead she focused on the flowers, using the secateurs to carefully snip at and tidy them.

It was something that she had found herself doing a few times over the course of the year since that first time back in February, and whilst Iðavöllr would never call herself a gardener, she did think that the gardens in front of the hall were starting to look nicer and a little less unruly–

Or rather she'd like to think that they were, although it wasn't as if she was truly a gardener who could tell so there was a possibility that she was simply kidding herself.

Iðavöllr paused and then went inside the hall to fetch some of the manure that she had brought with her on a previous visit, making sure that she was well gloved up before she deigned to use the scoop to scoop up the stuff and ferry it to the patch of garden that she was working on–

And whilst it was perhaps not the most efficient method, it wasn't like she had a wheelbarrow and nor had she any plans to acquire one.

The manure was more than enough.

Besides Iðavöllr wasn't even sure if the stuff was actually helping anymore than she was sure that her amateur gardening attempts was actually doing anything for the garden–

But the books had suggested that plants liked soil that was mixed with manure and so Iðavöllr had figured it couldn't hurt - and well it wasn't as if she'd ended up accidentally killing the things (well at least not so far) so hopefully she was doing something right.


"It's good to see the gardens being tended to. The maristela flowers were always a favourite of mine."


Iðavöllr had been on her knees and grateful for the knee pads as she carefully shifted snow away so as to spread the latest batch of carefully carried manure around the flowers before patting the snow back into place, but she paused at sound of her predecessor's voice.

"They're pretty" she admitted quietly and then, because she was curious "Are they native to here?"


"Not initially" Ragna's voice sounded amused for a moment. "But they were already long established when I took up my duty to this Wonder." A hand reached out to and passed through the flowers "I was told that the original seeds were a gift, but the resulting flowers took to and made a home for themselves here, just as I also made a home here."

A sidelong glance "And tending to the flowers made for a nice escape from things."


Iðavöllr shifted under the ghost's steady gaze slightly uncomfortably, because whilst the former Iðavöllr had spoken in past tense, she couldn't help but feel a little called out–

Particularly as she was using tending the flowers as a form of escape–

Namely from her impending birthday.

She busied herself with patting the latest bit of snow back into place for a moment, but paused when something that Ragna said earlier caught her attention.

Namely that her blue-haired predecessor had said that she had made a home here.

"Were you not born here?" She asked, because somehow she'd always thought that the former Iðavöllr had been a Polaris native, although given that she was apparently also somehow her ancestor, maybe it made sense that she wasn't.

It was generally something that Iðavöllr generally tried not to think too hard about, especially as she was pretty sure that she'd never ever seen a "Ragna" listed on the family tree–

But then again the ins and outs of powered life seemed to escape her, even though she was part of powered life too and had been so ever since the night with the giant spider in late October five years back.


"No I wasn't born here" Ragna said, the amusement from before back in her voice, although she didn't elaborate. Instead she looked almost.. Wistful as her hand reached out and passed through the flowers one last time.

"There's more to the Hall of Iðavöllr than just the gardens" she said before standing up, giving her a last look before standing up "And more that you have to learn."

Then she half turned and took a step and was gone leaving Iðavöllr once again alone.


But in truth the ghost's words weren't anything that Iðavöllr hadn't thought for herself - especially after finding out that her cousin was also caught up in all of this.

Although in this Arian - or Athene as he was when powered up - was so far ahead of her in this whole powered life thing that Iðavöllr couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever catch to her cousin.

She shook her head slightly, not wanting to dwell on those particular thoughts.

Instead she stood up and went to fetch another scoop of manure as she decided that for now she'd focus on the flowers.

After all it wasn't as if she particularly needed to be anywhere - and better the peace of the gardens than the quiet of her apartment as she waited for the dreaded big four-O countdown to reach its inexorable end.

-- 1347 words --