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Loki and the Golden Hair Once upon a time in Asgard, the Norse kingdom of the gods and goddesses, there was a great wedding.
Thor, the god of thunder, married Sif, the goddess of growth.
The marriage surprised many, as the pair were such opposites.
Thor liked storms and feasting and fighting.
He was happiest with a warhammer in his hand and a foe before him, living by the might of his muscles and the sight of his lightning.
Sif, on the other hand, loved life and growth.
She was the goddess of growing plants and growing babies and growing families.
Where Thor destroyed, she created.
But even in ancient Asgard, it seems that opposites attract.
Let the heavens show their love for my bride, Thor bellowed, and a beautiful display of lightning danced on the horizon.
And let the earth show its love for my husband, Sif said, and next to Thor grew a mighty rowan tree.
All the gods and goddesses seemed to be happy about the marriage.
All but Loki, the trickster god.
Loki was slender and cunning with a weaselly face, and his favorite thing in the world was pulling pranks.
He was always stealing things from Thor or changing into animals and scaring people.
It drove the others crazy, but there was nothing they could do.
Now, most pranksters live to be the center of attention, and Loki was no exception.
He loved when people were talking about him, even if they weren't saying anything nice.
After Thor and Sif's wedding, though, all anyone was talking about was the bride, especially her hair.
Sif had hair that was long, flowing, and the natural gold of ripe wheat, ready to be harvested.
Once a year, she would brush it out with a special comb, and on Earth, all of the wheat would turn from green to gold.
The farmers would harvest it and make flour and bread and cake and all the rest, and Sif would smile down at them, her hair shining all the brighter.
And the day she married Thor, her hair was so bright and golden that Odin, the father of all, proclaimed it more fair than the sun.
Loki sat in a corner and stewed, his jealousy souring his stomach like spoiled milk.
A few nights later, he used his magic to transform into a bird and fly into Sif and Thor's home in Asgard.
They were sound asleep, the thunder god's snores echoing through the home like an angry bear's.
Loki flapped into their bedroom and then slipped back into his own body.
Sif's golden hair was splayed across her pillow, stirring slightly in the breeze of Thor's breath.
Oh, little center of attention, are we?
Loki whispered to himself, pulling scissors from his pocket.
Let's see how you like all the stares when you're bald.
His scissors went snip, snip, snip, and golden strand by golden strand, Sif's hair was stolen from her head.
Loki left it there on the floor, shifted back into a bird, and flew out into the night.
The next morning, Thor's bellow could be heard all across Asgard.
It shook buildings and shattered stone like an earthquake, and even the celebrated dead in the halls of Valhalla felt his fury.
"'Your hair!'
He said to Sif when the initial squall of his anger had passed.
My hair!
Sif moaned weakly.
Someone cut my hair!
Without my hair!
Oh!
She struggled to rise from bed and couldn't.
The goddess's golden locks were where she kept her power, and without them, she felt as sick and tired as if she had the flu.
I'll get you your hair, my love, Thor said.
Thank you.
Oh, please hurry.
Sif coughed.
Like a summer storm, Thor blew from his home to the halls of Odin, who is the father of all the Norse gods and goddesses.
Father, roared Thor.
Father, someone has cut Sif's hair.
Oh, what is this?
Said Odin, springing from his throne.
This cannot be.
The Allfather rushed to his magic window that looked down on Earth.
What he saw there made his face twist red with a fury that rivaled Thor's.
What, Father?
What have you seen?
Sif's hair, connected to the wheat, to the plants.
Now that it's been cut, nothing is growing on Earth, and the humans will starve.
Outrageous, bellowed Thor.
Who would do this?
Who would dare?
The two gods looked at each other.
Loki, they roared together.
Soon enough, Odin's guards wrestled the trickster god into the throne room in Valhalla.
Hundreds of warriors watched as Loki was dragged the length of the hall and then dumped unceremoniously in front of Thor and his father.
Oh, uh, you wanted to see me?
Loki said, always joking, even when he was in trouble.
Really, Thor, you could just send an invitation.
Enough of your jokes, Thor snarled, angry spit flecking from his angry lips.
I'm going to smash you for this.
Give me your best shot, Loki replied.
I've never been hit by a big bag of hot air before.
You insolent little- Odin put out his hand and stopped Thor from knocking Loki into next week.
This is serious, Loki, he said.
We know you're the one who cut Sif's hair.
Me?
Last I checked, I'm no barber.
Loki, I am the Allfather and I know what you did.
Now listen.
Without her hair, Sif can't make the plants grow on Earth.
The human world is barren and cold.
They will starve and die.
At this, even Loki paled a little.
Well, I'd hate that, he admitted.
If the humans died, I couldn't play pranks on them anymore.
That's what you're worried about?
Bellowed Thor, raising his warhammer again.
Enough, said Odin, and he radiated power.
Loki, you have to fix this right now.
I don't care how you do it.
I don't care what it takes.
You fix what you have done.
Perhaps, uh, said Loki, perhaps I could glue it back on.
Would that work?
Perhaps I could glue your arms back on after I tear them off.
Would that work?
Thor growled.
No more fighting, Odin said.
Loki, go and fix this.
Thor, go home and take care of Sif.
But, said Loki.
But, said Thor.
No buts, roared Odin.
Go now.
Thor stormed home and Loki retreated to his own hall.
What do I do?
What do I do?
The trickster muttered to himself, pacing back and forth.
The hair was already cut.
There was no putting it back.
He'd have to replace it, but how could he replace such a treasure as Sif's flowing golden locks?
It was simple.
He couldn't.
But he knew who could.
Deep below the surface of the world, in an endless maze of fiery tunnels, lived the dwarves.
They were master craftsmen, able to shape metal into magic, and Loki knew that if anyone could fix Sif's hair, it had to be them.
Specifically, a family named the Sons of Ivaldi were legendary for their working of gold.
The trickster transformed into a mole and burrowed into the earth, deeper and deeper, until he found the home of the dwarves, called Skardalfheim.
They greeted him warmly, for they knew Loki was from Asgard, but they didn't know about his love of mischief.
Oh, hello, friend, they said cheerily in their little bearded voices.
Oh, what has brought you to our realm?
My friends, said Loki, giving a wide, fake smile.
I'm looking for the dwarves known as the Sons of Ivaldi.
I've heard they're the finest craftsmen.
The dwarves nodded and led Loki through tunnels, passing by underground lakes of pale white fish and flowing walls of lava that parted like curtains as they walked through.
Finally, they came to a great forge where a handful of burly, ruddy dwarves were working.
Sons of Ivaldi, Loki cried.
Look at you working.
Truly, you live up to the stories I've heard.
This was a cunning start from Loki, as the dwarves are very, very proud of their work and are easily swayed by compliments and flattery.
Yeah, it's true, grunted one of the sons.
No finer craftsman in Asgard or Earth or any other realm.
That's good, said Loki, because I have an order from Odin himself.
From Odin, the Allfather?
They asked.
Oh, of course.
What do you need?
Loki explained about Sif losing her golden hair and the wheat and other plants all dying on Earth.
Of course, he left out the part about how it was all his fault.
This is an emergency indeed, said the sons, leaping into action.
You've come to the right place.
All right, gang, let's get going.
Loki watched, stunned, as the sons of Ivaldi charged to work.
They took the largest piece of pure gold that Loki had ever seen and dropped it into their crucible, which is a sturdy pot for melting metal.
Some dwarves pumped billows to make the fires roar, and others poured the gold until it flowed like a shining bowl of liquid sun.
They pulled long metal strands and hammered until the sound of steel on gold filled the cave like music.
Loki watched, trying to learn the secrets of their spells, but the magic of the dwarves was beyond him.
It required study and hard work, which the trickster had never much cared for.
But even he had to admit the results were beyond belief.
After a day and a night of work, the sons came to him, holding a golden headband.
It was so thin and fine, Loki was afraid to touch it.
But when he picked it up, it was as solid as stone in his hands.
Magic in every ounce, a son said seriously.
Maybe our finest work in ages.
You have Sif put this on, and her hair will be as golden as it ever was.
Oh, thank you, dwarves, Loki said.
Odin will be in your debt.
Ha, the Allfather owing us a favor.
Now that sounds good.
Loki took the golden headband and prepared to head back to Asgard, but found himself lingering instead.
The dwarves made treasures of such power.
The greedy little trickster couldn't help but want more.
Knowing the dwarves were proud to a fault, he asked around to see if any others could equal the sons of Ivaldi, and soon heard of Broker and Eitri, a pair of brothers who claimed to be the masters of metal magic.
Loki soon found them and showed them the headband the sons of Ivaldi had made.
Oh, hello there, he said to the pair.
Look at what the sons have forged for me.
Surely they're the best craftsmen in all of the Dwarven realm.
Odin will be sure to reward them above all others.
Broker snatched the headband and turned it over in his thick, burn-scarred hands.
It's good work, but it's nothing like Eitri and I can make.
Is that so?
Asked Loki with a smile.
Oh, it's so, roared Eitri.
You give us a day, and we'll make a real treasure for Rodan, and then we'll see who the Allfather likes best, huh?
Oh, well, if you insist.
Said Loki, magicking himself a lounge chair and settling back.
The brothers got busy, and soon the fires were roaring and the hammers pounding and strange metals imbued with magic began to flow.
After just a few hours of work, they came to Loki holding a small golden ring.
Yeah, here, give this to Odin with our, uh, thanks.
A golden ring?
We call it Dropnir, and look what it can do.
Broker said, and then he spun the ring on a table.
It flashed with light as it twirled, and suddenly there were two rings spinning, and then three, and four, and by the time it stopped, there were eight new golden rings spinning around the original.
The magic we built in, it means the ring can copy itself, they said.
The Allfather will never want for gold, as long as he bears our ring.
Truly an amazing gift, said Loki.
Give Odin our esteem, they said.
Loki nodded and started to head for the surface, but then he had another idea.
Two treasures were good, but the gods and goddesses in Asgard were all very mad at him, and the cunning trickster suddenly had a plan to get himself out of trouble.
He went back to the sons of Ivaldi and showed them the magic ring the brothers Broker and Eitri had made.
Look at this masterwork, he said, barely hiding his weaselly smile.
I thought you were all good, but this is even better.
The gods and goddesses of Asgard will long sing of Broker and Eitri.
Even better, roared the sons of Ivaldi.
Better?
Oh, you just sit right there and we'll show you better.
The forges magically flared to life and the fires roared and the hammers rang, and soon they came back to Loki, holding another treasure in their hands.
Look at this and tell us who they'll be singing for.
In their hands, they held an elegant spear engraved with runes of power and ancient dwarven spells.
This spear will fit Odin's hand perfectly and it will never miss its target and never fail to strike like doom itself.
Truly a gift worthy of the All-Father, Loki said.
Sons of Ivaldi, you have proven your prowess.
Of course, Loki wasn't done there.
He brought the spear to Broker and Eitri and bragged to them about it.
The brothers couldn't let themselves be outdone, so they went back to their forge and created a golden riding boar, faster than any horse.
Loki showed this to the sons of Ivaldi, and they too returned to the forge, this time creating a boat that could hold all the gods and goddesses, but also fold down to the size of a playing card when not in use.
Back and forth Loki went from the sons to the brothers until his pack was bulging with magic items.
At last, he met Broker and Eitri again, and they showed him a hammer that seemed to rumble with thunder and glow with lightning, even just resting on a workbench.
This one is our finest work, Broker said.
It's called Mjolnir, and it's built for Thor, the god of thunder.
It's a weapon of strength and magic to match his own, and a finer hammer will never be built.
Loki looked at the hammer and saw that they were right.
It was a thing of absolute beauty and just what he needed to get out of trouble.
Truly, you brothers are the masters of all.
The dwarves beamed, happy to win the favor of Asgard.
Of course, Loki had said the same thing to the sons of Ivaldi, but they didn't need to know that.
Taking his treasures, Loki again turned to a mole and burrowed back to the surface before the dwarves could realize that they'd been tricked.
Once back in Asgard, he immediately went to Valhalla and the throne of Odin, where the gods and goddesses all waited.
Oh, Loki, Sif said weakly.
Have you found a way to fix my hair?
I'm so, so tired.
He better have, said Thor darkly, his big hands balling into big fists.
Relax, relax, said the trickster, and he pulled the golden headband from his pack.
Sif, please put this on.
The goddess looked at Loki warily, but Odin nodded for her to try it.
She slowly slid the golden headband into place, and immediately she began to glow.
A yellow light appeared on her head, growing brighter and brighter until it shone like the molten gold of the dwarven forges.
Hair began to grow, each strand fine metal woven bright and soft as any hair.
Sif smiled and stood, her power flowing back through her, amplified by the spells of the dwarves.
She walked over to Odin's magic window that looked down on Earth and smiled.
The wheat is golden once more, she said.
The plants are growing.
My power is returned.
The gods and goddesses and hundreds of assembled warriors all cheered, but Thor shouted them down.
So you fixed what you ruined, he said, picking up a warhammer.
But you still must be punished.
Before you punish me, Loki said with a sly smile, look what I've brought you all.
He reached into his pack and pulled out gift after gift from the dwarves, each one more magical than the last.
In the end, only Thor was still angry.
But then Loki pulled out Mjolnir and offered it to the God of Thunder.
A hammer worthy of the Storm Lord, he said.
Thor took up the hammer and was instantly struck by a blast of lightning.
He laughed a booming laugh, glowing and crackling with power.
He threw the hammer and it smashed apart a distant mountain with a peal of thunder and then flew back to Thor's hand and stuck there, glowing with magic.
Yes, Thor said, holding the hammer aloft.
Yes!
All the gods and goddesses cheered and they were so busy admiring their new treasures that they forgot all about punishing Loki.
And that's how it usually went for the trickster, always getting himself into and out of trouble with his schemes.
And while this was one of his more famous pranks, it certainly wasn't his last.
The End
Today's story, Loki and the Golden Hair, was an adaptation of a Norse myth written for you by Daniel Hines and performed for you by me, Amanda Weldon.
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