Retold by S.K. AKin
Thor and the Giants
by W.E. Winge, 1890
source
The beast spoke in such low tones that sometimes I could feel in my bones as much as hear them.
“I am Loke,” he began, “I am not quite god and not quite giant. But I am a little of both and have been ensnared here for ages. Sit with me and I will tell you of my cursed life. I couldn’t help myself. Something precocious stirred inside me since before there were gods or humans. So dwarf, what story should I begin with? It has been so long since I had someone to talk with. Do not worry that the night will get cold. My breath will keep us warm in this place as long as I have tales to tell.
I see you have noticed the scars around my lips. That is as good as a place as any to begin I suppose. In fact, you may appreciate the story because it has dwarfs in it.
One evening I was roaming the halls of Thor’s palace intent upon a joke. No one in Asgard was as much fun to upset than Thor who would explode in hilarious fury at the slightest affront. I came upon a room where Thor’s beloved Sif was napping quietly. Her golden locks spread out on the bed like beams of the most brilliant sunlight. I knew that, at that time, nothing prized by Thor could compare to the magnificent beauty of his wife and her gorgeous mane and before I could reconsider I had gently severed her hair from her scalp and shorn her head completely. I almost could not contain myself. I felt the most intoxicating laughter begin to percolate in my throat so before I would give myself away I fled.
Needless to say, Thor must have known immediately that I was the thief and he descended upon me like a fierce thunderhead. His mighty hands closed around my neck and just before the life was to be squeezed from my body I confessed. I knew Thor too well; he cared not for my destruction. What he really wanted from his prize back and no more. So I quickly promised to restore her beauty. I told him I would bargain with the dwarfs for a magnificent crown of golden hair for his wife, Sif. Taking my oath, he let me go and they ferocity of his eyes seemed to fade by a measure.
I wasted no time and swiftly raced into the deep caverns that served as the smithy for the dwarfs of old. I found Ivald’s sons, a group of smiths who were knwn to be great artists of metal.
I spoke to them saying, “Make me an astonishing crown of gold hair that will grow like natural hair and in return I will give you whatever you wish.”
Naturally they accepted. Not only did I promise them whatever they wished but I am also a giant as you see. I was staggered at the speed at which the little men worked. In no time they had completed their charge and had made the great spear Gunger as well.
I gathered my treasures and headed off back to Asgard. I was a boastful cad in those days and I couldn’t help myself. I was so proud of my amazing things that I was heard telling everyone I met.
“Look at the wonders that Ivald’s sons have made for me,” I was heard saying. “All the other dwarfs should bow their stupid, filthy heads before this uncanny craftsmanship.”
Hearing one such boast another dwarf smith named Brok could not contain himself.
“My brother Sindre is a finer craftsman of metal than the sons of Ivald could even imagine.”
Ever scornful, I laughed and replied. “I have never heard of your brother and for good reason. He must be of no account. If your brother can make two such amazing things as the two I now carry then he can have my head.”
Now word had spread and two days later the gods convened, anxious to see the winner, in the main hall in Asgard. It was agreed that Odin, Thor and Frey would judge. I must admit that I was getting very nervous. But I always found a way out of trouble so I set my mind to relax.
I showed them my spear. The great Gungner will never miss its mark. And I gave Sif the golden crown and immediately it began to grow beautifully just like natural hair.
My gifts were received well and the gods were impressed. I was confident then and couldn’t help my laughter.
Brok then stepped up. Out of his pocket he produced a magnificent ring. I started to worry then, such was its beauty.
“This ring,” he handed it to Odin, “will multiply every ninth night. It will become eight rings all as gorgeous and pure as this one.”
I was really sweating the outcome when I saw him reveal an awesome hammer. It was Mjolner. Brok handed it to Thor and explained that the hammer would never fail no matter the strength of the foe. It would also always return to the hand from which it was thrown, no matter how far.
Thor raised the hammer and with a swing brought great flashes of light and booming thunderclaps. At this the gods rejoiced saying. “This will be our savior and protector from the frost-giants and any other enemies.”
And with that they granted victory to Brok.
“I will give you whatever you wish if you spare my head,” I said to the pleased little dwarf but he would have none of it.
He wanted my head but I was unconcerned. I already had a plan. For all my lack of wisdom was made up for in guile.
“You may take my head but you may not touch my neck. For that was not in the bargain,” I cunningly said.
And since it was true and he could not remove my head without touching my neck he gave up his claim and returned to his cavern. Days later, I awoke to find my lips sewn together. A note by my bedside in a dwarven script warned against boastfulness.
That
is how I received these scars and that is how the
mighty Thor received his magnificent Mjolner.
Author's note:
Retold from:
Norse Stories Retold from the Eddas. by Hamilton Wright Mabie (1923)
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