The Heroes of Asgard: Tales from Scandinavian MythologyKeary, Annie
General
The Heroes of Asgard: Tales from Scandinavian Mythology
Keary, Annie
Mythology, Norse -- Juvenile literature
Time passed on. Tyr had reached the prime of his strength; but Fenrir
went on growing, not so rapidly as to awaken fear, as his brother
Jörmungand had done, but slowly, surely, continually--a little
stronger and a little fiercer every day.
The Æsir and the Asyniur had become accustomed to his presence; the
gentlest lady in Asgard no longer turned away from the sight of
his fierce mouth and fiery eye; they talked to each other about the
smallest things, and every daily event was commented on and wondered
about; but no one said anything of Fenrir, or noticed how gradually
he grew, or how the glad air and the strong food, which gave valour
and strength to an Asa, could only develope with greater rapidity
fierceness and cruelty in a wolf. And they would have gone on living
securely together while the monster grew and grew, if it had not been
that Asa Odin's one eye, enlightened as it was by the upspringing
well of wisdom within, saw more clearly than the eyes of his brothers
and children.
One evening, as he stood in the court of Valhalla watching Tyr as he
gave Fenrir his evening meal, a sudden cloud of care fell on the
placid face of All-Father, and when the wolf, having satisfied his
hunger, crouched back to his lair, he called together a council of
the heads of the Æsir--Thor, Tyr, Bragi, Hœnir, Frey, and Niörd;
and, after pointing out to them the evil which they had allowed to
grow up among them unnoticed, he asked their counsel as to the best
way of overcoming it before it became too strong to withstand.
Thor, always ready, was the first to answer. "One would think," he
said, "to hear the grave way in which you speak, Father Odin, that
there was no such thing as a smithy near Asgard, or that I, Asa Thor,
had no power to forge mighty weapons, and had never made my name
known in Jötunheim as the conqueror and binder of monsters. Set your
mind at rest. Before to-morrow evening at this time I will have
forged a chain with which you shall bind Fenrir; and, once bound in a
chain of my workmanship, there will be nothing further to fear from
him."
The assembled Æsir applauded Thor's speech; but the cloud did not
pass away from Odin's brow.
"You have done many mighty deeds, Son Thor," he said; "but, if I
mistake not, this binding of Fenrir will prove a task too difficult
even for you."
Thor made no answer; but he seized Miölnir, and, with sounding
steps, strode to the smithy. All night long the mighty blows of
Miölnir rang on the anvil, and the roaring bellows breathed a hot
blast over all the hill of Asgard. None of the Æsir slept that night;
but every now and then one or other of them came to cheer Thor at his
work. Sometimes Frey brought his bright face into the dusky smithy;
sometimes Tyr entreated permission to strike a stout blow; sometimes
Bragi seated himself among the workers, and, with his eyes fixed on
the glowing iron, poured forth a hero song, to which the ringing
blows kept time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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