The Theft of Thor's Hammer

A roar shattered the quiet morning. It carried so far that even the clouds at the top of the sky gave a small shiver. It was the voice of Thor, the god of thunder and the strongest of all the gods. He had just woken up and reached for the spot where he always kept his magic hammer. The spot was empty.

The old Norse tales say that Thor had a hammer named Mjolnir. Its handle was a little short, but no one could stand against its power. As long as the hammer lay beside Thor, the giants of the cold land of Jotunheim did not dare come near Asgard, the home of the gods. Yet this morning the hammer had vanished without a trace. It meant that, at this very moment, all of Asgard had nothing left to protect it.

Thor stormed all over Asgard searching, but found nothing. He ran to Loki, a god both clever and mischievous, who always found a way when no one else could think of anything. Loki borrowed the goddess Freyja's magic cloak of falcon feathers. He put it on and flew straight to Jotunheim to gather news.

It did not take Loki long to find the answer. A giant named Thrym was the thief, and he had buried the hammer deep under the earth. Thrym set his terms. He would give the hammer back only if the goddess Freyja agreed to come and be his bride.

When Freyja heard this, she shook her head hard and flatly refused. All of Asgard was stuck. Then one of the gods came up with a plan so bold it was hard to believe. Thor would disguise himself as the bride and take the place of Freyja.

Thor turned red and protested. He was a burly god of thunder, more used to holding a hammer than a bridal veil. Now he was supposed to sit still and play a gentle bride. But there was no other way to win back the greatest treasure of his life. So Thor nodded at last, embarrassed and half laughing at himself.

In Asgard, everyone gathered around to dress Thor up. A long veil covered his bearded face. Then came a splendid wedding dress, glittering necklaces, and even a bunch of keys hanging at his hip, just like a proper bride. Loki put on a bridesmaid's dress too, ready to go along and keep an eye on everything. The biggest god in Asgard had to stand still while others tied up his hair and smoothed each fold of his dress. It was a rare sight.

The two gods climbed into Thor's chariot, pulled by his own two magic goats, and rattled off toward Jotunheim. Thrym stood waiting. He was overjoyed to see his bride arrive, and he hurried his servants to lay out the grandest wedding feast he had ever given.

At the table, the bride began to eat. First a whole ox disappeared, then eight salmon, then every dainty meant only for the women guests. And that was not all. The bride drained jar after jar of mead, the honey wine that should have been shared by the whole table. The giants stared wide-eyed. They whispered that in all of Jotunheim no one had ever seen a bride with such an appetite. Thrym froze too, and turned to look at Loki.

Loki just gave a small smile and answered, cool as anything, that the bride had eaten nothing for eight days, so eager was she to meet Thrym.

The whole hall went silent for a beat. Then Thrym threw back his head and laughed, plainly pleased. Here was a bride who longed for him so much that she forgot to eat and sleep. Nothing could be better than that. But then he grew curious. He wanted to see the face of his lovely bride, so he bent down and gently lifted the edge of the veil. The moment he looked, he jumped back in alarm. The eyes behind the veil were burning red, fierce as two sparks of fire, nothing like the eyes of a gentle bride.

Once more Loki quickly covered for her. He said the bride had not slept for eight nights in a row, again only because she was so impatient for this wedding day. Thrym stood dazed for a while, looking at the bride, then at Loki. At last he nodded slowly. Of course. Anyone who missed eight nights of sleep would have eyes that burned red like that.

Right after that, Thrym's sister stepped forward. She held out her hand and asked the bride for a ring as a welcome gift, just as the custom of the giants required. The bride slowly put out a hand. It was a big, broad, rough hand, nothing like the hand of a goddess. Luckily, at that very moment, Thrym jumped to his feet, impatient to hold the wedding right away.

To make the wedding complete, he ordered the magic hammer Mjolnir brought out. It was to be laid on the bride's lap to bless her, as was the custom in Jotunheim.

As soon as his familiar fingers touched the handle, Thor sprang up from his seat. The veil flew off, and the wedding dress was no longer needed. Thor swung the magic hammer high. Thunder roared through the hall, and lightning flashed into every corner. Thrym and the giants panicked. They shoved past each other and ran in every direction. Not one of them dared stay to look at the bride for another second.

The wedding feast broke apart in the thunder. Thor and Loki climbed back into the goat chariot and headed home to Asgard. The magic hammer sat firmly in Thor's hand again, as if it had never left.

That evening, the gates of Asgard closed as peacefully as ever, and the hammer Mjolnir was back in its proper place. As for the wedding dress, the veil and the bunch of keys, they were folded up and put carefully away. No one in Asgard ever spoke of the matter again. Yet each time Thor swings his hammer to call the thunder across the sky, a mischievous smile still hovers somewhere around Loki. It is as if he is waiting for the chance to tell once more the story of the biggest bride Jotunheim ever saw.