The myth of Loki and the deadly mistletoe - Iseult Gillespie

Baldur— son of All Father Odin and Queen Frigg,

husband of Nanna the Peaceful, and God of truth and light—

was the gentlest and most beloved being in all of Asgard.

In his great hall of Breidablik,

Baldur’s soothing presence eased his subject’s woes.

But lately, he was plagued by troubles of his own.

Every night, Baldur had gruesome visions foretelling his own imminent death.

Determined to protect her son from these grim prophecies,

Queen Frigg travelled across the nine realms,

begging all living things not to harm Baldur.

Her grace moved each being she encountered.

Every animal and element, every plague and plant, every blade and bug

gladly gave their word.

Frigg returned to Breidablik, and threw a great feast to celebrate.

Wine flowed freely, and soon the gods took turns testing Baldur’s immunity.

Lurking in the corner, Loki rolled his eyes.

The trickster god had never cared for Baldur the Bright,

and found his new gift profoundly irritating.

Surely there was a flaw in Frigg’s plan.

Taking the form of an old woman,

Loki crept to Frigg’s side and feigned confusion.

Why were the gods attacking sweet Baldur, whom they all loved so dearly?

Frigg told her of the oaths, but the old woman pressed on.

Surely you didn’t receive a vow from everything, she asked.

Frigg shrugged.

The only being she hadn’t visited was mistletoe.

After all, what god could fear a trifling weed?

At this, Loki dashed outside to find a sprig of mistletoe.

When he returned, the festivities had grown even rowdier.

But not every god was enjoying the party.

Baldur’s brother Hodur, who was blind and weapon-less, sat dejected.

Seeing his opportunity,

the trickster slyly offered Hodur a chance to participate.

Loki armed him with mistletoe, guided his aim towards his brother,

and told Hodur to hurl with all his might.

The mistletoe pierced Baldur’s chest with deadly force.

The god’s light quickly flickered out, and despair swept over the crowd.

Within moments, the impact of Baldur’s death could be felt

across the nine realms.

But from the weeping masses, Hermod the Brave stepped forward.

The warrior god believed that with the help of Odin’s mighty steed,

there was no plane he could not reach.

He would travel to halls of Hel herself, and bring Baldur home.

The god rode for nine days and nine nights,

past halls of corpses and over paths paved with bone.

When he finally reached the Queen of the Underworld,

Hermod begged her to return Baldur to his family.

Hel considered taking pity, but she wanted to know the extent of the gods’ mourning.

She agreed to relinquish Baldur’s soul—

if Hermod could prove that every living thing wept at Baldur’s death.

Hermod shot back to the land of the living.

He met with every creature that Frigg visited earlier—

all of which cried for Baldur and begged for his return.

Meanwhile, Loki watched Hermod’s mission with disdain.

He would not let his work be so easily undone,

but if he interfered too boldly it might reveal his hand in Baldur’s murder.

Disguising himself as a ferocious giant, he hid himself at Hermod’s final stop.

When the warrior came,

the howling wind and craggy rocks each declared their love for Baldur.

But the giant within spewed only contempt for the deceased.

No matter how much Hermod begged, she would not shed a single tear.

With his last hope dashed, the god began to mourn Baldur a second time.

But an echo from the cave rang out above his sobs.

Loki’s twisted cackle was well-known to every Asgardian,

and Hermod realized he’d been tricked.

As he leapt to accost the trickster,

Loki took the form of a salmon and wriggled into the waterfall.

His escape was guaranteed, until Thor arrived at the scene.

Dragging Loki back to the cave, the gods bound him with a poisonous serpent.

Here, Loki would remain chained until the end of days—

the serpent dripping venom on his brow as punishment

for dousing Asgard’s brightest light.