Loki's Take on The Binding of Fenrir
Loki leans forward, fingers tapping rhythmically on the studio desk, eyes narrowing as if savoring the tale ahead. The mischief in his grin deepens as he speaks, his voice full of quiet glee.
"Ah, Fenrir. My dear son, the mighty wolf. He’s such a disappointment, isn’t he? Not in the way you might think—no, it’s far more entertaining than that. You see, I had such high hopes for him. He was supposed to be my partner in chaos, my wild creature in the night. But, alas, the gods just had to ruin it. Typical, isn’t it?
Let’s go back to the beginning. Fenrir was born—oh, he was so adorable back then. Big, wild eyes, so full of promise and potential. He was the kind of wolf a father could be proud of... if you’re into, you know, breaking the rules. But, of course, gods being what they are, they were terrified of him.
You’d think they’d be used to my wild antics by now, wouldn’t you? But no, Fenrir—my son—was destined to be something else entirely. The prophecy, they said. Oh, how the gods love a prophecy. They love to fret over those little things, don’t they? And this prophecy? It said that Fenrir would one day bring about the end of their precious little world. Can you believe that? My son—the end of everything they hold dear. I almost had to laugh.
But the gods? They didn’t find it funny. In fact, they were terrified. So terrified that they decided to chain up my sweet little wolf. Oh yes, they went all out. They created a series of chains, each one stronger than the last. They thought it would work. They thought they could control the beast that had so much potential to become their undoing.
What do they always forget about me? I always have a hand in it.
You think the gods could just trap my son without my help? Oh, please. You see, they made a mistake in all of their planning. They underestimated me. They didn’t realize that I wasn’t just going to sit back and watch their foolish attempt to chain up my progeny.
They thought the chains would hold him. The first two, maybe. But the third chain? That’s where the real fun begins. They brought in the dwarves—oh, what a wonderful bunch of tinkers they are—to craft a magical binding that no beast, no matter how strong, could break. And they called it Gleipnir.
Now, let me tell you about Gleipnir. It was so thin, so delicate, you could barely see it with the naked eye. But its power? Unmatched. Made from impossible things—sounds of a cat’s footsteps, the roots of mountains, the spittle of birds... all sorts of nonsense. But, oh, the best part? It was the only thing that could bind Fenrir.
And there I was, the ever-faithful father, sitting back and watching it all unfold. The gods? They thought they had it all figured out. They were so proud of themselves. They said, ‘Loki, come here. Help us tie your son up. It’s for the greater good.’ The greater good, they said. Hah!
So they dragged Fenrir into a hollow to chain him up, promising him that if he could break free of their chains, they’d let him go. They lured him in with their promises of freedom, knowing full well what they had planned. Fenrir, of course, being the proud beast that he was, didn’t want to back down from a challenge. But that’s where they had him.
They tried the first two chains. Fenrir broke them. But Gleipnir? Oh, Gleipnir was different. He could feel its power, its wicked magic, and he resisted. He didn’t trust it, as any smart wolf wouldn’t. But the gods, sly as ever, tried to convince him. They played on his pride. They told him, ‘You are mighty, Fenrir. This will be your victory.’ And Fenrir, like the fool he was, agreed to let them tie him up with it.
You know, in hindsight, I could have stopped it. I could have told him, ‘Son, do you really trust the gods?’ But where’s the fun in that? So, I let them go ahead.
Oh, the look on his face when they finally tied him up with that cursed chain. The betrayal, the realization that they had tricked him—it was priceless. And you know what else? The gods were so confident that Fenrir would never break Gleipnir, that they just left him there, chained to a rock. They thought they were safe. They thought they had beaten the prophecy, beaten the chaos. They thought they had won.
But do you know what? Fenrir never broke the chains. Not because he couldn’t—oh no, he could have—but because I, Loki, had a far more entertaining plan in mind. The gods didn’t realize that there was always more than one way to break free.
They say Fenrir was bound until Ragnarok. That’s a laugh. I’ll tell you this: no matter how tight the chains, there’s always a way out. And I will be the one to make sure that when the time is right, Fenrir will have his revenge. The gods think they’ve won? Oh, they’ve only delayed the inevitable."
Loki leans back, eyes flashing with the thrill of what’s to come.
🖋️✨📜🖤
