One night, near dawn, Freyja slipped out of Sessrumnir and away. She took nothing with Her. Her cats lay in Her hall sleeping and Her chariot remained waiting it’s next use. Only Loki saw Her leave, and the Sly One couldn’t help Himself. He slipped on a cloak and followed Her.
Freyja picked Her way across a plain, over a river, and around a glacier. Her mind was set on one thing–gold. She wanted it, lusted after it. She was searching everywhere for some. The Goddess found a twisting path that led in and down, and followed it. With each step She took through the cave, a tapping sound grew steadily louder. She followed the sound, stopping periodically to determine the direction the sound was coming from. Eventually she stepped into the sweltering smithy of the four dwarves Alfrigg, Dvalin, Berling, and Grerr. Her hands immediately landed on the gold necklace they were working on. It shimmered in the light of the fire, with gems and intertwining design.
“I’ll buy it from you,” Freyja said to the dwarves.
Three of them shook their heads. The fourth replied “it’s not for sale.”
“I can give you silver. And gold.”
“We have enough silver,” one of the dwarves replied.
But Freyja wouldn’t be deterred. She wanted that necklace like She had never wanted anything else before.
The dwarves huddled up and held a quick meeting. When they turned back to the Goddess, one of them said. “It is owned by all of us. So what one has, so must the other three.”
Freyja listened, nodded as the dwarf spoke.
“There is only one price that will satisfy all of us.”
Freyja swallowed. She never cared much for dwarves, but Her eye was continually drawn to the twisting intricate design of the necklace. She felt a hunger for it. She had to have it.
“For four nights you must lie with us, each one in turn.”
Four nights were only four nights. If she did this, the necklace would lie around Her neck for all time. “As you wish,” She said.
And for four nights she stayed with the dwarves. When Her end of the bargain had been fulfilled and the necklace of the Brisings laid around Her neck, Freyja made Her way back to Her hall. Loki, who had been watching everything, ran off to tell Odin of Freyja’s escapades.
When Odin heard Loki’s claims, He was outraged and filled with jealousy. Long had He lusted after Freyja and to hear She spent four nights with dwarves did not sit well with the Terrible One.
“Get me that necklace,” He ordered Loki.
“But no one can get in Her hall if She doesn’t want them to.”
“Do it. I do not want to see your face again until you have done as I say,” Odin said. His one eye was filled with anger. Loki recognized the danger and decided it best to do as Odin said.
He slipped out of Valaskjalf and over to Sessrumnir. He remembered slipping into Sif’s hall by turning into a fly. The Shapeshifter decided to try using the same method to enter Freyja’s hall. But Sessrumnir was so well sealed that even as a tiny fly Loki couldn’t find a way in through the windows or door. He tried the eaves with no success. Finally he tried around the gables and there, in the corner right under the roof, He found a tiny hole barely bigger than the eye of a needle. He squirmed and wriggled until He was through.
Loki flew through Sessrumnir and into Freyja’s chambers. The necklace lay around Her neck, the clasp beneath Her. So Loki changed shape again, this time taking the form of a flea. He amused Himself by climbing across Her breast and over the necklace until He reached Her cheek. A moment later He bit Her pale flesh.
Freyja woke with a start, but simply turned over and went back to sleep. Just as Loki wanted, though, the clasp to the necklace was exposed. Loki changed back to His normal form and, with light and nimble fingers, He undid the clasp and silently headed for Sessrumnir’s doors. He undid the bolts and ran from the hall.
The next morning when Freyja woke and touched Her neck, she discovered Her precious necklace was missing. Her eyes landed on the wide open doors which had obviously not been forced open. “Loki.” She murmured. She knew only He would have the power to get into Her hall this way. She also knew that even He wouldn’t commit a theft of this grandeur had Odin Himself not ordered it.
“Who are you to speak of debasement? You who sold your body to four foul dwarves to satisfy your greed have no room to speak of debasement,” said the Father of Battle.
“Where is it?” Freyja demanded again.
“You’ll never see it again. Unless…”
“You must stir up hatred and war. Find two mortal kinds and set them at each other’s throats. Only then will you have your necklace back. Those are my conditions. It doesn’t matter if mortals wish to fight or not. This is what I wish.”
“Alright. Then give me my necklace,” Freyja said and extended Her hand.
Odin smiled as He sat in Hlidsjalf, His one eye gleaming.