Brisingamen (a story of Amber)

How Freya got the Brisingamen.

If a giant ash tree holds together 9 worlds that together make up the known universe, then in one of these worlds is a mountain where four dwarf brothers lived.  They called themselves the Brisings and they lived alone under the mountain where they’d eat, sleep and make beautiful things from gold and jewels.  For a long time they had been working on a particularly special necklace made of gold and something even more rare and beautiful: amber.

This was before all of the amber that we have today was made – before the bugs that are sometimes trapped inside it lived and nobody knows where they got it from – maybe they invented it.  If you like orange, you’d love this necklace!  The dwarves had poured their heart and soul into this necklace (their best yet) and perhaps they knew that gold wasn’t enough but none of the gemstones they knew would be right.  So they made amber. It had taken years of work but finally the necklace was finished.

Three dwarves watched anxiously, heads craned forward as Alfrik finished polishing the piece and held it up to the light where it looked like golden sunlight in the dark.  Suddenly, all four heads snapped to the cave entrace where they heard a quiet gasp!  There was Freyja herself, godess of love and war and not even trying to disguise her rudeness at intruding, though it was forgiven by how taken she obviously was for the necklace.

She rushed forward but found herself unable to finish the movement by grabbing the necklace.  She oohed and aahed like only a woman can. “Ooh, that’s so amazing!  It looks like melted light!  And what is this stone it’s made from?  Such craftsmanship!”  If I wore this necklace nobody would be able to take their eyes off of me!

The dwarves didn’t know what to say and Dvalin, Berling and Grer hung their heads down but Alfrik held the necklace up possessively.

“How much?”  I have to own this!

They looked at her, confused. “How much what?”  Grer finally ventured.

“How much does it cost?  I can give you gold, or silver, or both.”

“It’s not for sale.”

“Ok, I know, of course it’s not for sale.  How could you want to sell it?  It’s the most perfect piece of jewellery I’ve ever seen!  I’ll give you these rings and this necklace I’m wearing now and these earrings and this bracelet…” she began taking off all of her jewellery and held it out to them in her hands.  There was about three times as much gold there as in the dwarves’ necklace.

“It’s still not for sale,” Grer insisted.  “We have spent years pouring our life into this necklace – it would be like selling a part of ourselves.  How can you sell yourself?”

“Ok, ok, I’ll give you all of my silver and gold, that’s surely worth a lot more!”

“We wouldn’t sell it for all the gold and silver in the world.”  Alfrik said quietly, still gazing at the marvel in his hands.

“It is not about the metals in the necklace.  We can always get more gold but there will never be another necklace like this!”  Grer was getting angry now.  How dare she!  Spoilt bitch!

“I know and that’s why I have to have it!  Can’t I at least try it on?”  She said, pleading now.   Did she really think that if they saw her in it they’d be so impressed by how well it looked on her that they’d give it to her?

“No!”  Alfrik snapped.  If he were a dog he’d be growling.

“Can’t I at least stay here and look at it for a while?”  Freyja asked, already making herself comfortable on a stone chair between the necklace and the entrance.

Alfrik grunted – which she took as acceptance – and stood waiting for one of the others to provide some soft leather so he could put it down.

Freyja sighed and lowered her head in order to look up at them through her long lashes.  “Isn’t there anything you’d sell the necklace for?”

Silence hung as the four Brisings looked at each other, at her, at the necklace.  They hadn’t seen anyone else almost since they starting working on the necklace, their Brisingamen.

They knew each other well and didn’t need to speak to reach a conclusion.

“Well…”  Berling began… “we poured our souls into this necklace…”

“…So we’ll need a piece of your soul in exchange.”  Dvalin finished, saying what Berling couldn’t.  “You must give each of us your love, must marry each of us for a night and a day.  Then maybe you can have the necklace.”

If Freyja was outraged by their audacity the beautiful necklace Brisingamen was still shining in front of her and somehow that seemed like the only thing of any importance.  If I say yes, who would ever know? She kept looking at the necklace, imagining touching it, holding it, wearing it, owning it. She knew she’d do anything.  Still focussed on the Brisingamen, she heard her own voice agree and then say, “Who’s first?”

Afterwards she was ashamed that at the time she had felt nothing.  Nothing but obsession and lust for a pretty jewel.  They wouldn’t let her touch the necklace yet but for four days it was still there and she could see it whenever she closed her eyes.  When she had spent a night and a day in turn with each of them, they gave her the necklace, carefully wrapped in the softest of leathers.  She couldn’t resist putting it on straight away but the further she got from their cave the more real her life at the palace with her husband Odin seemed.

Did I really sleep with dwarves? she wondered, but she had only to pull the Brisingamen out of its packaging to know that it was true.

She didn’t look at the necklace again until she was safely alone in her rooms.  Then she could take it out and play with it, hold it up to the light and watch it dance around the room.  She put it on and admired herself, finally falling asleep finally content in the soft glow of the warm amber and gold on her skin.

What happened after that was a bit of a blur…

When Freyja woke up the necklace was gone, that much was clear.  It wasn’t on her neck or with her other jewels, neither was it on her bed or on the floor.  After a careful – but frantic – search she checked with her ladies outside who confirmed that nobody had been into her rooms.  She would have known, anyway, if they had.  So what could have happened?  She went to find her husband, hoping that he had not somehow found out about the Brisingamen and especially hoping that he did not know how she obtained it…

But Odur seemed to be missing too.  She asked everywhere but nobody seemed to have found him.  She went to the throne room but it was empty.  She sat down and considered weeping when in walked Loki, whistling.  He stopped when he saw her and said pointedly (and with barely concealed glee):

“Oh, hello, Frejya!  How are you this morning?”

In return she glared at him.  “Have you seen Odur?”

“Your husband?  Big guy, red hair?  Sure, I’ve seen him.”

“Today, Loki,” she sighed at his deliberate ambiguity.  “Have you seen him today?  Do you know where he is?”

“He’s gone, my Lady.  He knows what you’ve done and he’s gone.”

“What I’ve done?”  Her face showed confused but they both knew that she knew this was about the dwarves and the brisingamen.

Then Loki produced the amber-gold gem from his pockets and held it up to the light.  “You know,”  he said.  “How you sold yourself for this trinket.”

He held it out to her in disgust but when she went to snatch it out of his hands he whipped it back, up and out of her reach.  She stood up fully then – taller than Loki – and stalked out of the room to where he couldn’t see her desperate tears.  She hated herself, then!  She resolved to wait for a while, wait until Odur came home and she could explain – no, not explain, she would apologise – throw herself at his feet and beg for forgiveness.  He would have to forgve her; she would have forgiven him, of course she would!  Wouldn’t she?  What if he wouldn’t listen to her?  What if he wouldn’t see her?  What if he wouldn’t even come home, what would she do, what would she say – what could she do or say?

After less than ten minutes of patience she couldn’t stand it any longer and hurriedly left to appeal to the father god Odin.

Arriving at Valhalla she wept publically before Odin and told him her story.  Odin had always had a soft spot for the beautiful Freyja and he pitied her so he forgave her and returned the brisingamen necklace to her from Loki’s greedy hands.  By this stage she hardly wanted it.

But even Odin could not restore her lost husband to her – Odur was lost and they both knew it was her fault, so Freyja was condemned to wear the Brisingamen and to go down to earth to find him.  Maybe he didn’t want to be found or maybe he died from grief and can’t be found, but Odur was lost to Freyja forever, in exchange for the amber and gold necklace that she wore.  And so she wanders the world looking for him and she weeps, her tears falling and turning to gold if they land on the land or amber if they land in the water or green leaves.