Gather around brothers and sisters for I have another tale. For this is the tale of a great loss that will affect us all. For this is the tale of a trick truly foul and a seemingly harmless plant. This is the tale of Baldr’s death.
For it seemed that Death could not touch Baldr. One day he chanced to be hit by an arrow; and, had another been in his place, the wound would’ve been fatal; but when the arrow touched it was blunt, and he was not hurt. Seeing this, some of the Gods begged him to stand as a mark, while they amused themselves by hurling things at him; stones, spears, arrows, and swords-nothing could harm him.
Loki passed by as the Aesir were enjoying this game, and fierce jealousy filled his heart when he saw Baldr so calm in a position that would have meant death to any other being. Taking the form of a decrepit older woman, Loki went to the mansion of Frigg and asked alms. Frigg gave the seeming beggar something and then asked what the gods were doing as she crossed the plains of Ida. The woman replied that they were throwing stones and weapons at Baldr, who stood there, unhurt. “Ah!” exclaimed the queen. “They cannot harm him now, whatever his dreams may be, for I have exacted an oath from all things!” “What!” said the woman, in a weak, shaky voice. “Have all things sworn not to harm him?” “Yes,” replied Frigg; “all things.”
Then she added carelessly. “There was one little shrub, the mistletoe, that grows on the eastern side of Valhalla, too weak to do any harm. I did not exact an oath from that.” Had Frigg been watching the older woman narrowly, she would have seen a look of triumph come into her face as she heard these words. But the queen of the gods scarcely noticed her, so absorbed was she in thinking of her dear son.
The beggar crept quietly out of the palace and disappeared behind a clump of bushes. In a few moments, Loki was talking gaily with the gods on the pains of Ida, and congratulating Baldr on his ability to stand unhurt amid a shower of weapons.
After dark, when all Asgard was asleep, a form might have been seen creeping stealthily towards the eastern side of Valhalla. It was Loki. When he found the slender mistletoe, he pulled it up by the roots and hid it in his bosom. From that time, it never left him; he was continually planning to get some skillful maker of weapons to form from it an arrow fatal to Baldr.
The next day the gods once again gathered to test Baldr’s might against all things. They threw fire, ice, stone, and steel at Baldr, but all things did not harm him. With an arrow made of mistletoe, Loki began his plan. Loki approached Hodr, the blind brother of Baldr, and presented him with the arrow. Hodr took the arrow and fired it at Baldr.
Where other things just blunted upon his chest, this arrow pierced his chest and hit his heart. Silence replaced the joyous sounds of the gods in their revelry. For before their eyes Baldr had fallen