Frey did not speak, but he thought the day of Ragnarök was far off. "I cannot live without Gerda," he said, as he turned away.
There was one in Asgard who was called Skirnir. He was a venturesome being who never cared what he said or did. To no one else but Skirnir could Frey bring himself to tell of the trouble that had fallen on him—the trouble that was the punishment for his placing himself on the seat of the All-Father.
Skirnir laughed when he heard Frey's tale. "Thou, a Van, in love with a maid of Jötunheim! This is fun indeed! Will ye make a marriage of it?"
"Would that I might even speak to her or send a message of love to her," said Frey. "But I may not leave my watch over the Elves."
"And if I should take a message to Gerda," said Skirnir the Venturesome, "what would my reward be?"
"My boat Skidbladnir or my boar Golden Bristle," said Frey.
"No, no," said Skirnir. "I want something to go by my side. I want something to use in my hand. Give me the magic sword you own."
Frey thought upon what his father said, that he would be left weaponless on the day of Ragnarök, when the Giants would make war upon the Gods and when Asgard would be endangered. He thought upon this, and drew back from Skirnir, and for a while he remained in thought. And all the time thick-set Skirnir was laughing at him out of his wide mouth and his blue eyes. Then Frey said to himself, "The day of Ragnarök is far off, and I cannot live without Gerda."
He drew the magic sword from his belt and he placed it in Skirnir's hand. "I give you my sword, Skirnir," he said. "Take my message to Gerda, Gymer's daughter. Show her this gold and these precious jewels, and say I love her, and that I claim her love."
"I shall bring the maid to you," said Skirnir the Venturesome.