The golden age of the Aesir was brought to a shattering halt by the death of Baldur the Beautiful, the most beloved of all gods. While the gods mourned, it became increasingly clear that the architect of this tragedy was none other than Loki, the son of Farbauti. Loki had not only orchestrated the mistletoe dart that pierced Baldur’s heart but had also, in the guise of the giantess Thokk, refused to weep for the fallen god, thereby condemning him to remain in the underworld of Hel. The patience of Asgard was exhausted. No longer was Loki seen as a mischievous companion; he was now the ultimate adversary, a murderer of joy and light. Sensing the encroaching tide of divine wrath, Loki fled the halls of the gods, seeking sanctuary in the remote and desolate regions of Midgard.
Loki journeyed to the highest peaks, where the air was thin and the ground was scarred by ancient ice. He built for himself a peculiar dwelling on a mountain near a great waterfall. To ensure he could never be surprised, he fashioned the house with four doors, one facing each cardinal direction. This allowed him to scan the horizon at all times, watching for the flash of Thor’s hammer or the glint of Odin’s spear. During the long days of hiding, Loki spent his time contemplating the nature of capture. He sat by his fire and wondered how the gods might try to ensnare him. To pass the time, he took stalks of flax and twine and began weaving them together in a cross-hatched pattern, inadvertently inventing the first fishing net. He realized that if he were to take the form of a fish, such a device would be his undoing. However, his sharp ears soon caught the sound of approaching hoofbeats and the rhythmic clanging of celestial armor. The Aesir were upon him.
Panicked, Loki threw his woven net into the fire, determined to leave no clue of his inventions or his whereabouts, and immediately transformed himself into a sleek, silver salmon. He leapt into the churning waters of the nearby Fránangr Waterfall, hiding himself among the stones and the white foam. When the gods, led by Odin, Kvasir, and Thor, entered the four-doored house, they found it empty of life, but Kvasir, the wisest of all, noticed the white ash left by the burnt twine in the hearth. By examining the patterns of the ash, Kvasir deduced the shape and purpose of the net Loki had created. He instructed the Aesir to recreate the tool, and soon they had fashioned a great net to sweep the river.
Twice the gods dragged the net through the river, and twice Loki eluded them by pressing himself into the riverbed or leaping over the mesh. On the third attempt, the gods divided their strength; Thor waded into the middle of the stream while the others pulled the net from the banks. Loki realized he was trapped. He made a desperate leap to jump over the net and escape to the open sea, but Thor, with his lightning-fast reflexes, reached out and caught the salmon mid-air. The god of thunder squeezed so hard that the salmon’s body became tapered toward the tail, which is why, according to legend, salmon have had that shape ever since. With the trickster finally in their grasp, the gods forced him back into his giant form and marched him toward the darkest depths of the earth, to a cavernous void that would become his eternal prison.
They led him to the damp, echoing chambers of a cave—often identified in later lore with the volcanic reaches of Surtshellir. This was no ordinary dungeon. The Aesir intended a punishment that would match the gravity of Loki’s betrayal. They brought with them Loki’s two sons, Narfi and Vali. In a display of horrific justice, the gods transformed Vali into a ravening wolf. Driven by a divine frenzy, the wolf Vali turned upon his brother Narfi, tearing him asunder. The Aesir then took the cold, damp entrails of Narfi and used them to bind Loki to three massive, jagged slabs of rock. One stone was placed under his shoulders, one under his loins, and one under the hollows of his knees. As the bindings touched the stone, the gods performed a dark magic that transformed the soft viscera into unbreakable bands of iron, fusing Loki to the very bones of the earth.
To ensure his suffering was continuous, Skadi, the daughter of the giant Thjazi and the goddess of the hunt, stepped forward. She bore a deep grudge against Loki for his role in her father’s death and for his previous insults. She fastened a massive, venomous serpent to the ceiling of the cave, positioned directly above Loki’s face. From the serpent’s fangs, a thick, caustic venom began to drip, destined to fall drop by drop onto the trickster’s skin, burning like liquid fire. The gods then departed, leaving Loki to his fate, confident that he was secured until the coming of Ragnarok, the twilight of the gods.
Yet, Loki was not entirely abandoned. His wife, Sigyn, whose loyalty remained unshaken despite his many infidelities and crimes, chose to stay with him in the darkness. She took a large bronze bowl and held it up over her husband’s face to catch the falling venom. For hours and days, she stood motionless, her arms aching, as the bowl slowly filled with the serpent’s bile. While the venom fell into the bowl, Loki remained still, his breathing the only sound in the cavern. But eventually, the bowl would reach its brim. Sigyn would then have to turn away for a brief moment to empty the poison into a crevice in the cave floor.