Although he was not long kept waiting, Thor had time to imagine all
sorts of unpleasant things—even to fancy that perhaps the Sly-One was
playing another of his tricks and would not return at all. The instant
Loki in the feather-dress appeared upon the threshold, he called out
sternly:
“Have you succeeded in doing your errand? Then give me the message
before you sit down. What one tells after he has had time to sit down
and think up fibs, is often of little value.”
As Loki happened to be acting honestly for once, he felt somewhat
aggrieved at this.
“Well have I succeeded in doing my errand,” he answered; “Thrym the King
of Giants has your hammer. No man brings it back unless he gives him
Freyja as bride.”
Thor snorted so that his red beard streamed far out, and down on the
earth people thought they had seen the fiery northern lights streak
across the sky.
“Is it to win her that he has made all this trouble? Ride we to Freyja
without delay.”
They mounted the chariot, and in an astonishingly short time the
lightning-swift goats had drawn them to Folkvang.
Freyja the Lovely sat in her high-seat playing with her wonderful
necklace, whose beads sparkled and flashed like water-drops in the sun.
When she heard wheels, she guessed that the Strong-One was approaching
and came out into the courtyard to meet him.
“I give you good greeting,” she said, smiling kindly as Loki flew to her
and dropped the feather-dress at her feet.
But she did not smile so sweetly when Thor had reined in the goats
before her and told her of the giant’s demand.
“Dress yourself, Freyja, in bridal robes,” he finished, “together we
will ride to Jotunheim.”
The Lovely One straightened up so quickly that her hand caught in her
necklace and broke it into a shower of sparkling balls.
“Sooner will I die than put on bridal robes for such a monster,” she
declared.
The Strong-One looked at her in surprise. The hammer was so important to
him and to them all that he thought any one ought to be willing to do
anything to recover it.
“It is likely that you will die if I do not get The Crusher back,” he
said at last. “If the giants should invade the sky, I would have nothing
to fight them with and they could get the victory over us.”
Freyja answered nothing whatever, but she put back her beautiful shining
hair from her beautiful rosy face and looked at him sorrowfully. All at
once it occurred to Thor that she was much too lovely to be given to
such a wicked old creature. He made only one more very faint attempt.
“I am told for certain that Thrym has got great riches,” he said, “he
has a herd of all-black oxen and all his cows have gold horns.”
Then Freyja stamped her foot.
“I would be a love-sick maid indeed if with you I would ride to
Jotunheim!” she said severely. And with that she left them and ran into
the house—and I am not sure that she did not close the door pretty hard
behind her.
Thor scratched his head thoughtfully.
“Much goes worse than is expected,” he said at last. “We will see now
what advice my kinsmen have to offer.”
Again he puffed and snorted so that the trees on the earth below were
stirred and swayed as by a rushing wind.
“Certainly there is going to be a great storm,” the earth-people said to
each other. And as they heard the chariot-wheels rumbling along above
the clouds, they added, “Hark! Do you hear the thunder?”
They must have thought it a very long storm for before he stopped, Thor
had driven to almost every palace in the sky. Odin the All-wise Ruler,
Balder the Bright, and Heimdal the White One, Tyr, Brage, Vale—he
visited each of them. Soon they were all gathered together at their
meeting-place on the plains of Ida.
They consulted long and earnestly. At last Heimdal the White One, who
had the gift of fore-knowledge, gave them this counsel:
“It is my advice that we play a trick upon the King of the Giants and
allow him to believe that we have done as he asked. We will dress Thor
in bridal robes and send him to Thrym.”
At this, loud laughter went up from the others. You remember that Thor
was not only stronger than any man on earth, but he was also mightier
than any being in the sky. Imagine dressing him up for a beautiful
graceful woman!
“That is cleverly devised!” cried Loki. “With a bridal veil will we hide
the red beard, and Thrym shall not know him until the Strong-One has got
his hand on his hammer. Then will he know him to his sorrow!”
They all laughed again; but the mighty Thor frowned angrily.
“Never will I submit to it,” he growled. “Every living thing would mock
at me, should I go dressed in bridal robes.”
Perhaps Loki wished to revenge himself on the Strong-One for having
spoken so sternly to him when he first brought the message from
Jotunheim. Now in his turn he said sternly:
“Be silent, Thor. Stop such talk. Soon will the giants build in the sky
if you do not bring your hammer back.”
Because he knew this to be true, Thor could say nothing more. He stood
frowning and stamping and growling in his beard while they brought
Freyja’s jewels and her beautiful robes to dress him in.
They put on him a very long gown that trailed about his feet so that he
was certain that it would trip him up when he should try to walk. They
hung sparkling necklaces around his neck, and placed a bunch of jingling
keys at his belt to show that he was a good house-keeper. Broad gold
brooches they pinned on his breast, and then they braided his red-gold
hair into two beautiful wavy braids.
How the Mighty-One did stamp and fume at all this! And how the others
laughed at him! The more they laughed, the angrier he grew—and the
angrier he became, the funnier he looked in his bridal robes. The whole
vault of the sky echoed and re-echoed with their mirth.
At last he was all dressed and they dropped the bridal veil over his
furious face.
Then Loki said, with a slim grimace, that such a lovely bride could not
be allowed to travel without at least one serving-maid. So he took the
dress of one of Freyja’s attendants and put it on himself. As he was
young and handsome and with no more beard than either you or I, he made
a very pretty waiting-damsel.
He got into the chariot beside Thor, the lightning-swift goats were
hitched to the car, and away they went to Jotunheim.