Freyr and Gerðr
From Odin’s high seat, Hlidskjalf, in Valhalla, one could look out over all the worlds and see everything that happened. For this, a very wise man was required, and therefore none of the other gods were allowed to be there. But one day, the young Freyr sneaked in without permission and sat down in Hlidskjalf.
When Freyr turned his gaze towards Jotunheim, the land of the giants in the north, he saw a mighty abode. There, a maiden walked across a cobbled courtyard towards a door. When she raised her hands to open the door, a shimmering light appeared around her figure. Earth, sea, and sky were then seen more clearly. Her name was Gerðr, and despite being of giant ancestry, she radiated all this beauty.
Freyr, sick with love, staggered away from Odin’s throne and locked himself in his castle. He couldn’t eat, speak, or sleep for days. This was very serious because even nature suffered with the tormented god. Withered leaves sailed down sadly outside the window while Freyr lay listless and empty-eyed in his bed.
His childhood friend Skírnir was sent to find out what was going on. Skírnir prayed and begged to know what tormented Freyr. To Skírnir, Freyr confided, “No one can help me,” said Freyr. “For not only Odin but also the elves will oppose what I want. I want the giantess Gerðr, the daughter of Angrboda and Gymir, as my wife. Ever since I saw her from Odin’s throne I feel that I cannot live without her.”
Skírnir wanted to help his friend and was also worried about the dying nature. He decided to head to Jotunheim to propose to Gerðr on Freyr’s behalf. In order to succeed in the mission, Skírnir requested to borrow Freyr’s horse and his magic sword. That night, Skírnir traveled through space to Jotunheim. He traveled over the mountains to get to the world of the giants and managed to pass the magical wall of fire that surrounded the peak of Hindarfjall, where the valkyrie Brynhild lay fast asleep. Hooves clattered loudly against the giant Gymir’s cobbled castle yard as he finally reached his goal.
“Who comes through space?” roared a voice. The giant Gymir stood with his hands resting on his hips, watching him. “Are you of the Aesir, or a descendant of the Vanir and elves?” “Neither. My name is Skírnir and I come with an offer from Freyr for Gerðr’s hand.”
“What does Freyr offer for my hand?” asked Gerðr, who stood in the window of her chamber. Light streamed from the room over the clinging vine, and her beautiful figure stood out even clearer in the dim, heavy courtyard.
“Eleven golden apples and a magic ring,” Skírnir replied. But his offer did not impress Gerðr. Neither the ring Draupnir, which gave off eight gold rings every ninth night, nor any other gifts impressed Gerðr. She proved difficult to persuade, and said she already had enough gold and things. The only bridal gift that could possibly suffice was Freyr’s sword. Skírnir was distressed, for to leave the sword in the hands of the giants meant great danger to them all. In sheer desperation, Skírnir now resorted to violence and threatened to chop off her head if she did not do as he said and agreed to marry Freyr. He also resorted to his worst threats in the form of magical curses that would lead to the most terrible fates. But Gerðr was not easily intimidated and resisted all the threats that Skírnir shouted out. She stood her ground. “The bridal gift remains Freyr’s sword!”
Skírnir was defeated and finally surrendered the sword to Gerðr and returned to Vanaheim, where Freyr was waiting. “Gerðr says yes to marry you,” Skírnir announced. “In three days you will both meet on the island of Barre. Your union will take place there. But your sword is now in the hands of the giants.”
This was how Freyr lost the sword that could have saved him in Ragnarök, and instead, he was killed by his own blade. But that’s another story.