Loki’s Cutting of Sif’s Hair

At a Glance

Central figures: Loki, the trickster god; Sif, wife of Thor and goddess associated with the earth’s harvest; Thor, god of thunder; and the dwarven smiths Ivaldi’s Sons, Sindri, and Brokkr.
Setting: Asgard, home of the Aesir, and Svartalfheim, the underground realm of the dwarves; drawn from Norse mythological tradition preserved in the Prose Edda.
The turn: Loki cuts off all of Sif’s golden hair while she sleeps, then - cornered by an enraged Thor - travels to Svartalfheim to have it replaced, and bets his own head against the skill of two rival dwarven brothers.
The outcome: The dwarves produce six treasures in total, including Sif’s new hair of living gold, Odin’s spear Gungnir, Freyr’s ship Skidbladnir and boar Gullinbursti, Odin’s ring Draupnir, and the hammer Mjolnir; Loki loses the bet but escapes beheading on a technicality, and Brokkr sews his lips shut.
The legacy: Mjolnir passes to Thor and becomes Asgard’s greatest weapon and defense; Sif’s golden hair is restored and grows as her own, more radiant than before.

Loki crept into Sif’s chamber one night while Thor was away. She was asleep. He drew his blade and cut away every strand of her hair - gold as ripe grain, every lock of it - and left her bare-headed on the pillow. That was all. No reason beyond the pleasure of the act.

When Sif woke and found what he had done, she screamed. When Thor came home and heard what had happened, the sky answered him. He hunted Loki down, closed a hand around him, and made the situation plain. Restore the hair - or every bone in that clever body would be powder.

Loki, who valued his bones, swore he would fix it. More than fix it. He would give Sif hair finer than what he had taken. Thor let him go, hammer ready, and Loki went.

The Work of Ivaldi’s Sons

Svartalfheim lies under the roots of the world, lit by forge-fire rather than sun. The dwarves who live there are the best smiths in any of the nine realms, and Loki knew it. He went to the workshop of Ivaldi’s Sons, the finest craftsmen among them, and told them what he needed.

They set to work. From pure gold they drew strands finer than silk thread, each one alive with magic, so that when laid on Sif’s head the hair would take root and grow as flesh, as natural as what had been cut away.

But dwarves do not stop at one piece when they have the forge hot and a task in hand. While the hair cooled, Ivaldi’s Sons kept working. They forged Gungnir, a spear for Odin - balanced so perfectly that it never missed, and bound by an oath so that any promise sworn on its point could not be broken. Then they forged Skidbladnir for Freyr, a ship large enough to carry all the Aesir armed for war, yet able to fold down small enough to fit in a belt pouch, and guaranteed by its nature to always find favorable wind.

Three gifts. Loki took them, thanked the smiths, and should have gone straight back to Asgard.

Loki’s Bet

He did not go straight back. On his way out of Svartalfheim, he passed the forge of two brothers, Sindri and Brokkr, and could not help himself. He told them what Ivaldi’s Sons had made. He said that no dwarves alive could match that work. He said it with the particular tone he used when he wanted someone to do something.

Sindri took the bait. He and Brokkr could forge three treasures to surpass the first three. The brothers were certain of it.

Loki made them an offer: if the treasures proved greater, they could have his head. He said the words carefully - his head, not his neck. Sindri and Brokkr did not notice the distinction. They accepted.

Sindri took the forge, and Brokkr worked the bellows. The fire had to stay perfectly even; if the bellows stopped even for a moment, the magic would fail. Loki watched them set up, thought the whole thing over, and transformed himself into a fly.

Gullinbursti and Draupnir

The first piece was Gullinbursti, a boar. Sindri put a pig’s hide into the forge and chanted, and Brokkr pumped the bellows in a steady rhythm. Loki landed on Brokkr’s hand and bit. Brokkr grunted but did not stop. The hide folded and shifted and solidified, and from the coals came a boar with bristles of solid gold that threw light like a torch. Gullinbursti could run across sky or sea faster than any horse, and the light from its coat meant it could drive back darkness anywhere it ran. Loki acknowledged this was impressive and said nothing.

Then Sindri laid a block of gold in the fire for the second piece. Brokkr pumped. Loki, as a fly, bit Brokkr’s neck this time. Harder. Brokkr’s rhythm faltered for half a breath but did not stop. The gold ran into a ring, Draupnir, a band so perfectly made that every ninth night it would multiply - eight new rings dropping from it, each identical to the first. Odin’s treasury would never empty while Draupnir sat in it. Loki said nothing.

Mjolnir

For the third piece, Sindri took iron - raw, heavy iron - and placed it in the forge. He spoke over it and then stepped back. Whatever happened next, Brokkr had to keep the bellows going. He could not stop for any reason.

Loki bit Brokkr’s eyelid. He drove in as deep as he could, and blood ran into Brokkr’s eye, half blinding him. For one moment the bellows slowed. Only one moment. Brokkr shook his head and pumped again, but the moment was enough.

From the forge came Mjolnir - a hammer of unbreakable iron, able to hit any target, able to level mountains, storm-forged so that thunder and lightning answered to it, and made so that no matter how far it was thrown it would always return to the hand that threw it. In every way it was the most formidable weapon any smith had ever made.

Except for the handle. The handle was too short. Brokkr’s moment of blindness had done it.

Asgard’s Judgment and Loki’s Lips

The gods weighed all six gifts. Gungnir to Odin, Skidbladnir to Freyr, Sif’s hair to Sif - where it settled onto her scalp and began at once to grow, living gold rooting like seed in earth. Then Gullinbursti to Freyr, Draupnir to Odin, and finally Mjolnir laid in Thor’s hands.

The short handle was noted. But Mjolnir had no other flaw, and its power was unlike anything else in Asgard. The gods ruled it the greatest of all the gifts. Sindri and Brokkr had won the bet.

Brokkr came forward to take Loki’s head.

Loki said: the bet was his head. Not his neck. Brokkr could not touch the neck.

There was no angle at which a head could be removed without touching the neck. Brokkr stood there with the problem and no answer to it. He had lost the use of Loki’s head, and Loki knew it.

What he could reach was Loki’s lips. Brokkr drew a leather cord and sewed them shut, stitch by stitch. Loki pulled them open himself not long after - he was Loki - but for a while Asgard was quiet.

Thor got Mjolnir. Sif got her hair back. The trickster went home with a bleeding mouth and called the whole thing a success.