These proceedings had been watched by Loki with uneasiness, but by Thrym with open-mouthed dismay. Was this the usual appetite of this dainty maiden, who had eaten more than the company of giants? But Loki bent toward him and whispered in his ear that the thought of marrying had so excited Freya that she had eaten nothing for eight days, and had therefore been on the point of starvation.
This reassured the giant, and being now himself filled with mead he drew nearer and, lifting a corner of the veil, tried to kiss the cheek of his future bride.
But Thor, who was longing to be at close grips with him, threw him such a fiery glance that he drew quickly back, saying: “Why does fair Freya’s eye burn like a spark from a furnace?” “Pooh!” whispered Loki again, “that is nothing but her love for you, which for eight days has raged like a flaming fire.”
This news was still more pleasant to hear, and Thrym, in high good humor, cried: “Bring in the hammer, my wedding gift, wherewith to plight the maid. For when I have laid it on her lap she will be my own forever, and together we will work dire evil against the Asa folk, whom I hate with all my heart.”
What was that unmaidenly sound that issued from under the silken veil at these words? But though Loki turned pale to hear it, Thrym, busy sending for the hammer, did not pay any heed.
Back came the giant’s servants at length, bending under the weight of Miölnir. And as they bowed before the silent maiden, sitting with meekly bent head upon the throne, Thrym cried with a merry jest: “See, here is little Thor’s tiny plaything—a pretty toy truly for his feeble hands. Take it, fair Freya, as my wedding gift.”
“And take that as mine!” roared Thor, in a voice of thunder, as he flung off the veil and rose to his full height. And with the words he swung the hammer once—and ere the eye could follow its movement, it had crashed through Thrym’s skull, and had knocked over a round dozen of his guests. Yet again did it swing in the Asa’s hand, and this time it left not a giant standing in the hall.
A third time it was swung, and on this occasion the roof and walls of the palace came tumbling on every side, and only Thor and Loki were left alive amid the ruins.
“Ha! ha!” laughed Red Loki, “that was neatly done, fair Freya.”
Thor, who was now busily tearing off the hated robes and veil, stayed to look threateningly at his companion. “No more of that, Loki,” said he, “the thing had to be done, ’tis true, but talk not to me again of this woman’s work. We will remember only that I am the Thunderer, and that my hammer that was lost is found.”