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Once upon a time it happened that Thor's hammer fell into the possession of the giant Thrym, who buried it eight fathoms deep under the rocks of Jotunheim. Thor sent Loki to negotiate with Thrym, but he could only prevail so far as to get the giant's promise to restore the weapon if Freya would consent to be his bride.
Let me stay in Asgard. I will strive to win Iduna back." "The judgment of the Gods," said Thor, "is that thou, the cunning one, shouldst go to Jötunheim, and by thy craft win Iduna back from the Giants. Go or else I shall hurl thee into a chasm and crush thee with my thunder." "I will go," said Loki. From Frigga, the wife of Odin, Loki borrowed the dress of falcon feathers that she owned.
He met and he spoke with the Gods also, with one who lived far away from Asgard and with others who came to Midgard and to Jötunheim. The one who lived far away from Asgard was Vidar, Odin's silent son. Far within a wilderness, with branches and tall grass growing around him, Vidar sat. And near by him a horse grazed with a saddle upon it, a horse that was ever ready for the speedy journey.
They went to see fair Freyja, spoke to her first of all these words: "Bind on the bridal veil, Freyja, we two must drive to Jötunheim." Angry then was Freyja; she panted, so that all the hall of the Aesir trembled, and the great Brising necklace fell: "Eager indeed for marriage wouldst thou think me, if I should drive with thee to Jötunheim."
It was under the great root of Ygdrassil the root that grew out of Jötunheim. And there sat Mimir, the Guardian of the Well of Wisdom, with his deep eyes bent upon the deep water. And Mimir, who had drunk every day from the Well of Wisdom, knew who it was that stood before him. "Hail, Odin, Eldest of the Gods," he said. Then Odin made reverence to Mimir, the wisest of the world's beings.
The chilly Hoifjeld rolls away, a rugged, rocky plain, with great patches of snow in all the deeper hollows, and the distance blocked by snowy peaks that rise and roll and whiter gleam, till, dim and dazzling in the north, uplifts the Jotunheim, the home of spirits, of glaciers, and of the lasting snow. The treeless stretch is one vast attest to the force of heat.
But Loki, the waiting maid, whispered to him softly, "The truth is, great Thrym, that my dear mistress was almost starved. For eight days Freia has eaten nothing at all, so eager was she for Jotunheim." Then Thrym was delighted, you may be sure. He forgave his hungry bride, and loved her with all his heart.
That crow was the hag Thaukt transformed, and the hag Thaukt was Loki. He flew to the North and came into the wastes of Jötunheim. As a crow he lived there, hiding himself from the wrath of the Gods.
Ægir the Old groaned from under the deep, and sent his daughters up to mourn around the dead. Frost-giants and mountain-giants came crowding round the rimy shores of Jötunheim to look across the sea upon the funeral of an Asa. Nanna came, Baldur's fair young wife; but when she saw the dead body of her husband, her own heart broke with grief, and the gods laid her beside him on the stately ship.
He spoke to none until he came to Frigga's palace. To Frigga he said, "You must lend me your falcon dress until I fly to Thrym's dwelling and find out if he knows where Miölnir is." "If every feather was silver I would give it to you to go on such an errand," Frigga said. So Loki put on the falcon dress and flew to Jötunheim and came near Thrym's dwelling.
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