Frey drove the chariot pulled by Gullinbursti back to his father’s hall. Frey spoke to nobody when they got there, neither his father, Njord, who is the master of all who sail the seas, nor his stepmother, Skadi, the lady of the mountains. He went to his room with a face as dark as midnight, and there he stayed.
On the third day, Njord sent for Skirnir.
“Frey has been here for three days and three nights,” Njord said. “He has not eaten, nor has he drunk anything.”
“This is true,” said Skirnir.
“What have we done to anger him so?” asked Njord. “My son, who was always so gentle and filled with kind, wise words, now says nothing, only looks at us with fury. What did we do to upset him so?”
“I do not know,” said Skirnir.
“Then,” said Njord, “you must go to him and ask him what is happening. Ask him why he is so angry he will not speak to any of us.”
“I would rather not,” said Skirnir. “But I cannot refuse you, lord. He is in such a strange, dark mood, I am afraid of what he will do if I ask him.”
“Ask him,” said Njord. “And do what you can for him. He is your master.”
Skirnir of the light elves went to where Frey stood looking out at the sea. Frey’s face was clouded and troubled, and Skirnir hesitated to approach him.
“Frey?” said Skirnir.
Frey said nothing.
“Frey? What has happened? You are angry. Or you are downcast. Something has happened. You have to tell me what is happening to you.”
“I am being punished,” said Frey, and his voice sounded hollow and distant. “I went to the All-father’s holy seat, and I looked out at the world. For my arrogance in believing I had a right to the observation place, my happiness has been taken from me forever. I have paid for my crime, and I am paying still.”
“My lord,” said Skirnir, “what did you see?”
Frey was silent, and Skirnir thought he had once again sunk into a troubled silence. But after some time he said, “I looked to the north. I saw a dwelling there, a splendid house. And I saw a woman walking up to the house. I have never seen a woman like her. Nobody who looks like her. Nobody who moves like her. As she raised her arms to unlock the door to her house, the light glanced off her arms, and it seemed to illuminate the air and to brighten the sea, and because she is in it, the whole world is a brighter and more beautiful place. And then I looked away and saw her no more, and my world became dark and hopeless and empty.”
“Who is she?” asked Skirnir.
“A giant. Her father is Gymir the earth giant, her mother a mountain giant, Aurboda.”
“And does this beautiful creature have a name?”
“Her name is Gerd.” Frey was silent once more.
Skirnir said, “Your father is worried about you. We are all worried. Is there something I can do?”
“If you will go to her and ask for her hand, I would give anything. I cannot live without her. Bring her back to me, to be my wife, whatever her father says. I will pay you so well.”
“You are asking a lot, my lord,” said Skirnir.
“I will give anything,” said Frey fervently, and he shivered.
Skirnir nodded. “I will do this thing, lord.” He hesitated. “Frey, may I look at your sword?”
Frey took out his sword and held it out for Skirnir to examine. “There is no other sword like this. It will fight by itself, without a hand holding it. It will always protect you. No other sword, no matter how powerful, can penetrate its defense. They say that this sword could even prevail against the flaming sword of Surtr, the fire demon.”
Skirnir shrugged. “It is a fine sword. If you wish me to bring you Gerd, this sword will be my wages.”
Frey nodded assent. He gave Skirnir his sword, and a horse to ride.
Skirnir traveled north until he reached the house of Gymir. He entered as a guest and explained who he was and who had sent him. He told the beautiful Gerd of his master, Frey. “He is the most splendid of all the gods,” he told her. “He has dominion over the rain and the weather and the sunshine, and he gives the folk of Midgard good harvests and peaceful days and nights. He watches over the prosperity and abundance of humanity. All people love and worship him.”
He told Gerd of the beauty of Frey, and of his power. He told her of the wisdom of Frey. And at the last he told her of the love Frey bore for her, how he had been heart-struck by a vision of her and now would no longer eat or sleep, drink or speak, until she agreed to be his bride.
Gerd smiled, and her eyes shone with joy. “Tell him yes,” she said. “I will meet him on the isle Barri for the wedding, nine days from now. Go and tell him.”
Skirnir returned to Njord’s hall.
Before he could even climb down from his horse, Frey was there, even more pale and even more wan than when he had left him. “What news?” he asked. “Do I rejoice, or do I despair?”