Retold by S.K. AKin
Detail from Odin Graving Runes
by Von Stassensource
Silence again consumed us after his story had finished. He looked at me briefly, perhaps hoping for some measure of reassurance. But I was still as stone.
Dwarfs are not necessarily known for their insight but I could see through his fulsome idea of himself. Whatever the giant had done to deserve this must have been great. These small crimes that he glossed over were obviously just the beginning. By his own word, he had escaped them without much punishment. And now he was chained or eternity in this horrible place. The curiosity burned in my chest and when I could resist it no longer I spoke.
“Why are you now chained,” I asked humble, without shame or pride.
The giant smiled and seemed to be surprised but pleased.
“You wish to know ‘why.’
In short, it was something that I lacked not something that I had that finally drove me to this pitiable fate. The boorish gods held me responsible for the death of one of their own but that was not why I am here and I will not tell that terrible story of my misfortune.
No, the real reason I am here is because I lacked their certain silly disposition to weep and regret for things past.
After the death of the god for which I held their blame, I found myself ostracized. I was at a great feast held by the sea-god where all the deities sat and consoled each other with the hollow praise and empty camaraderie that was their primary sustenance. All attened save Thor who had business far away.
But no one offered praise to Loke. No one sought to console the one who they blamed for Balders, the missing gods, death.
I sat alone, without friend or kindness. Alone in my anger I sat until I heard a guest admire the servants with beautiful words.
‘Oh’ these servants are wonderful,’ he said. ‘Oh’ how gloriously they fulfill their duties.’
I could take no more. I was to be slighted. I, Loke, whose majestic deeds had for many years guided and strengthened the gods, was sitting unappreciated and unloved while mere servants, carriers or plates, were glorified by gods themselves.
I could take no more and in my madness I struck down the servant. I was met with silence and then driven from the hall by the gods. I was pushed out into the cold now, could I do nothing right? I did not protest, I knew I had behaved poorly. If only one of them had soothed me with friendship I would not be here now.
I wandered the cold night for a long time, alone with my regret. I longed to be accepted into their fair halls again but my nature was too brilliant for them to understand.
When I could no longer contain my curiosity any longer I made my way back to the hall and found a servant outside.
I asked him what the gods were doing. His reply still rings in my ears each night when the silence of this place accosts me like an avalanche of stillness.
“They are telling of their great deeds,” he said. “But no one mentions your name.”
In that moment all the wounds they arrogant gods had inflicted on me were opened. I was possessed by an unquenchable fury and I burst through the doors.
I do not recall well what happened, such was by passion but I do recall calling the gods by name.
I went, one by one, and told each of them about their thoughtless lives. I revealed to them their arrogance and opened their eyes to their true nature, as stupid and jealous children. Their divine gifts were only as great as their juvenile characters were little and embarrassing.
My words rang clear and terrible and must have shaken the world if not all of Asgard
I
finished with Thor’s wife, Sif,
and immediately heard a low rumble from far off, as if the world itself
were
hungry.
Everyone in the room lost their tongues and no one spoke. We all set in silence except for the horrible crashing of thunder that seemed to approach.
The last thing I recall is a dreadful roar as the roof was torn off the hall. I believe it was Thor’s face I saw at last in the gathering clouds above my head but it was distorted with rage. So horrible a mask of anger it was, all the other gods trembled in fear of it as well.
I awoke here. That was ages beyond ages ago.
I have tried to escape but with no luck. When the gods bound me they had given a thought to permanence. Now I sit in cold and hunger.
To deal with the cold I tell my stories over and over again. My breath fills these crags and makes it almost pleasant.
To deal with hunger is more difficult.
I have to wait for things to wander into my…”
My stubby legs had gone asleep on me as I had sat listening to him and before I could even attempt to stand he had me in his grasp.
His hand was astoundingly swift and before I could protest I was in his mouth.
His tongue was like a great marsh and before I could struggle I was swallowed.
So, it is from his great belly that I now write to you, dear wife. My rations have run out and tomorrow I will make my attempt at escape. I can not possibly climb up his great throat so there is only one other option. The path is hideous but I must try.
If this letter should ever find you know that I loved you with all my little dwarven heart.
Author's note:
I wanted to include the Balder story, the one in which Loke is responsible for the death of the god, as well but did not have time. I certainly wanted to end with this little explanation of why Loke was punished and since it did not directly involve the Balder story I decided to only mention it briefly. If I had gone into detail I would have certainly gone over on my word count.
In this story I wanted to give a small hint at what I think really seems to drive Loke into doing the things that he does. I do not know if the original myths were created giving characters motivation but I think that it is likely that any story being passed on and given a cultural life would have characters that, a least eventually, would develop recognizable real personalities. I think Loke craved attention and wished to be accepted by the gods as one of their own. Since this is a feeling that almost everyone can identify with, I think this is why Loke deserves the reputation that he enjoys and why he is the easiest of all the Norse deities to understand even though is actions might be the most erratic.
Retold from:
Norse Stories Retold from the Eddas. by Hamilton Wright Mabie (1923)
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