Balder's Fall Pt. 2

Balder's Fall

" Such a weak little thing, so easily overlooked. How fitting,” Loki mused. The flame-haired god had just returned with his prize: a small sprig of mistletoe. He stood on the far edge of the crowd of Aesir, swiftly fashioning a small dart from the tiny plant with his dagger.

Raucous laughter still rang in the courtyard, and Balder appeared resigned to his role as a weapons dummy. The ground at his feet was littered with all manner of steel weapons and projectiles.

One member of the Aesir stood off to the side, arms crossed and looking as bored with the revelry as Balder. Loki casually sauntered over to Hod’s side, a devilish smile flickering across his face.

“Sitting out this round, Hod?” Loki asked, watching as yet another Aesir pelted Balder with an axe.

“Uh, yeah. It’s a bit hard to hit targets when you’re blind, you know. Plus, my brother’s receiving plenty of abuse as it is,” Hod replied.

“Oh, come on, Hod. If being blind is all that’s holding you back, come. I’ll help you.”

“What’s the point? This is a ridiculous game, one we should probably stop. It’s not right to tempt fate.”

“You may be right. But it's just one throw. Surely you must want to be able use weapons like the rest of us, right? Doesn’t get any easier than throwing a dart at a stationary target.”

Hod sighed, exasperated with Loki’s prodding. "Fine. I’ll do it, but we’re putting a stop to this stupidity afterwards, deal?”

Loki grinned. "Deal.”

Loki led Hod into the center of the circle, handing him the mistletoe dart. Balder and his attackers looked at each other in confusion.

“I’m greatly disappointed in you all!” Loki announced, taking a position behind Hod. “During all of this fun, none of you thought to ask Hod if he would like a turn. Shame on you.”

A few of the Aesir chuckled uncomfortably. Balder sighed, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Alright, brother, let me have it. Everyone else has.”

Loki leaned over Hod’s shoulder, holding the Aesir’s hand and the dart at eye level. Sighting the target, he drew the dart back a foot. “Now…release!” Loki ordered.

The mistletoe sliced through the air, its path straight and true. All eyes followed it as it drew closer to its mark...

Smack. The dart sank into Balder’s chest, finding the heart. His blue eyes bulged in shock, and he crumpled to the ground.

“NO! What have you DONE!!?” a voice screamed from the distance. Frigg raced to her son’s side, roughly shoving the shocked crowd out of her way, Odin right behind her.

Odin had returned from his quest to speak to the oracle. The misery in his eyes had told me all I needed to know as he yanked me outside. But we were too late.

The light was already fading from my son’s eyes when I gathered him into my arms. “Oh, my son. Please forgive me,” I whispered, stroking his cheek. I felt Odin’s hand on my shoulder, felt his tears fall with mine onto my son’s face. Balder’s eyes closed, and he was still.

As my son passed from this life, all light vanished from the Nine Worlds. Clouds rolled across the sky, and all became pitch black.

Hod’s anguished scream filled the night as he felt his brother die. Nanna, Freya, and the other female Aesir, drawn outside by the unnatural darkness, joined the crowd. Upon seeing Balder’s fallen form, Freya sank to the ground, her beautiful face filling with tears. Nanna stumbled to my side, taking her husband from me and weeping uncontrollably.

Joy died in Asgard that day. Balder, the light and spirit in our lives, was gone. And Ragnarok’s storm was rolling in…

The next few days were a blur of sorrow. Nanna would not stop crying and refused to eat or sleep. She died a few days later, not having the will to live without her husband.

We began preparations for Balder’s and Nanna’s funeral. I wandered the halls of Valhalla, thinking that any minute I would hear my son's laughter. It never came.

One morning it dawned on me that I might be able to get Balder back. The Aesir had been immortal, and gods were not supposed to dwell in Hel’s kingdom. There might be a way we could ransom him back.

I explained my wishes to Hermod, and that morning he rode for Niflheim…

Hermod journeyed for nine days and nights. The valleys and forests were dark, and Sleipnir’s hooves echoed like thunderclaps on the bridges into Niflheim. Rushing past the wandering shades and sorrowful spirits, Hermod reached the goddess's palace. He quickly dismounted and threw open the heavy door.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight before him. Hel sat upon her white throne, icy eyes regarding the intruder. On either side of her sat Balder and Nanna, pale as snow, looking upon him with haunted eyes.

“So…what brings Balder’s brother to my kingdom? Paying someone a visit?” Hel asked, a touch of amusement in her cold voice.

Hermod's anger flared. “Release Balder! Your kingdom is filled with subjects, but Asgard is empty without my brother. There is not a face in all of the Nine Worlds without tears streaking it. Send him back to us!”

Hermod's heart pounded in his ears as Hel coldly regarded him.

“Everyone weeps for Balder, eh? Very well; you can have your brother back if all truly mourn him. But if even one eye is dry, he stays here with me.”

My hopes lifted when Hermod returned with the news. The funeral was planned for that evening, so we decided to have messengers spead word of it. Every eye would cry during his funeral; I had no doubt.

As the boat bearing Balder and Nanna sailed flaming into the sea, the messengers travelled everywhere. Tears were falling from every man, Aesir, and beast. The messengers' spirits lifted and hope filled their hearts; Balder was going to return to them.

But somewhere in Jotunheim, one heart was sinking. Skirner had mounted his horse, preparing to return to Asgard, when he came across a lone giantess with dry eyes. He jumped from his horse, his insides turning to ice.

“You will weep for Balder!!” he roared.

“I won't shed a single tear for him. Dead or alive, he matters not to me,” she smirked.

Skirner froze in shock as the giantess began laughing. The voice had turned masculine, and it was a voice he recognized.

“LOKI!” he screamed, lunging at the giantess.

“Too late,” Loki spat,“Balder is gone forever.”

“That murderous, evil, good for nothing little—"

“Peace, Fulla. Loki would pay for his treachery. He would pay well indeed…

To Be Continued...

Bibliography Information:

Story retold from: "The Death of Balder," found in "Norse Stories Retold from the Eddas" by Hamilton Wright Mabie (1901). Original text.
Image: "Loki 'assists' Hod" by Tudor Humphries. Original picture.

Author's Note: Balder’s story, as I mentioned before, is one of the longest and most vital of the Ragnarok saga. In order to focus more on the exciting parts (Balder’s death, Hermod’s journey to Hel, and Loki’s treachery at the end), I omitted a lot of unnecessary details and descriptions about Balder’s funeral and the massive grieving of the Aesir. The details are heart-wrenching, but slight overkill for understanding how the Aesir felt about their fallen brother.

Skirner was not specifically mentioned as the messenger who encounters giantess-Loki, but I felt it would be more personal if someone who knew Loki well bore witness to his cruelty. I also omitted a short encounter Hermod had with a giant guarding Hel, since it interrupted the flow of the story a bit.

I hope you enjoyed Balder's story. Next week, Loki will get his due.