To deny Thor’s request, could be punished as treason.
Loki knows giants, of which Thor is the slayer,
to help find the hammer, Loki visits…”
Ari points at the girl who had interrupted earlier, snapping her out from her trance.
“Freya,” she says, making Ari nod.
“The goddess of beauty, but also of war,
the goddess of magic, and life, ancient lore.
Freya is also the goddess of death,
she will be holding your hand,
when you draw your last breath.”
Ari’s eyes flicker to mine. My mouth is agape. I correct myself, but I’m not even embarrassed. I just want him to continue. His manner of telling, the words he uses—Ari is mesmerizing. I crack a smile, which he returns before turning back to the group.
“Loki speaks thus?—
Help me on my mission, you most humble and fair,
For I must find the giants, but cannot travel there.
Freya answers?—
You stand here before me, as you struggle to hearken
You may borrow my cloak, to fly like a falcon.
Now fuck off!”
The girls cackle at the skald’s altered rendition of the well-known tale. Ari is changing it to amuse them, empowering Freya to inspire the ladies and strengthen their feminine power. Freya does of course refuse Thor, but adding that little extra is genius. He’s… a master. Is he retelling it as he goes along? Improvising rhymes as he goes?
A girl burps in the back, visibly embarrassed as she tries to suppress the next one. All the thralls laugh at the interruption.
“Sorry,” she says, glancing around.
“No worry,” says Ari. “In fact, most fitting for the rest of the story. Thor would be proud of you.”
“Loki arrives, flies to the troll Thrym,
To ask if the hammer had been spotted by him.
He answered, the Jotnar, I know where it’s buried,
And I will return it, if Freya gets married.”
“Married to you?!” shouts Ari, as Loki. Some girls gasp, others laugh nervously.
“Loki returns, giving Thor the good news,
And Thor thinks it’s fine, to see Freya abused,
But when he asks Freya, she is not amused.
