Before the beginning of times in the Norse cosmos, there were but two worlds and a yawning void in between. The world of ice, Niflheim, stretching to the North and the world of flame, Muspelheim, in the South which was guarded by the fire giant Surt with his flaming sword. These worlds were parted by a giant void called Ginnungagap. Twelve rivers that came from a cauldron called Hvergelmir were pouring down this slope into blackness. One day Surt was wielding his flaming sword and sparks of fire reached to Niflheim. The freezing cold and the sparks of his sword collided and exploded. Out of it came the primeval frost giant Ymir and with him a giant cow named Audhumla (the nourisher). Ymir was fed from her milk and out of his sweat emerged other giants – one of them Thrudgelmir. Audhumla fed herself by licking the salty ice of Niflheim. After some time, the shape of a man appeared through the ice where she licked. This man was the first one of the gods, Buri (the producer). He is the father of Bor. Bor took the giantess Bestla for his wife and fathered the first of the Æsir: Odin, Vili and Ve.

The ice giant Thrudgelmir, who has always been hateful towards the gods, evil in nature, fought a lengthy war with the three brothers. When they saw that none would win this war they sneaked up to the primeval Ymir and killed him in his sleep. His blood drowned all his kin but one couple of giants who then fled to Jotunheim, which can be translated to the home of the giants.

From Ymir’s body the gods then shaped the world of men – Midgard. His blood became the rivers and seas, his flesh the lands and soil, his bones were made the mountains and his skull the sky.

There are countless of versions to be found of the creation of the world of men in the Norse cosmos. For a long time, the Vikings did not have a literary tradition; the mythology has been carried on in their culture as songs and poems from generation to generation. Changes of form and content are therefore inevitable. The traditions of the old Norse myths have been written down much later even after Christianisation.

Unwanted Union | Closed

It was as though Laufey never learned. First there had been the war with Asgard that had decimated the realm. And now, the Jötnar of Jötunheim were engaged in a bloody conflict with the Jötnar of Muspellheim.

The war had been going on for a decade, and by now Jötunheim was desperate for peace. So finally, a peace treaty was made– the terms, the joining of the firstborn of both Laufey and Surtr in marriage.

Loki was furious. For the first time ever, his father recognized him as a son. He had spent his life as a doormat, the lowest of the low. When he wasn’t locked away in a tower he was being forced to fetch and carry, treated like a common slave– but even the slaves bullied him. Loki couldn’t help his birth. He couldn’t help whatever defect had made him small and weak. But it was easier to blame an innocent child than the king of the realm.

And so now he had to be married to the muspell Princess (at least he hoped it was a princess, he really wasn’t familiar with the marriage customs of the eldjotnar). Someone he had never ever met, and one of a race he’d been taught to fear and despise.

He cringed at the amount of gold bangles and jewelry hung on his body in an effort to prove to Muspellheim that Jötunheim was less destitute than she appeared to be. He bit back sobs as the tribal ridges were cut into and rubbed with a black powder to make them more prominent. The one thing he didn’t mind, though, were the tightly woven clothes draped around his body. Because they kept him insulated, so that his low body heat kept him at least slightly colder in the heat of Muspellheim.

Laufey brought him to the palace, where the union would take place. The jewelry clinked like chains… Seemed they’d be more fitting, quite honestly. Subconsciously, he reached up to tug at an uncomfortable piercing in his ear– Loki had never been dressed up so, so all of the piercings and scarifications were brand new and sore. If this was any indication as to how things would be from then on, Loki began thinking that perhaps death by heat would be a relief.

How to Train your Dragon // yddrasil-dragon-muspellheim-drake


Thor finally had enough. He just couldn’t watch Loki waste away to nothingness anymore. He hadn’t wrested him out of his prison just for him to die of depression. And so, he opened the doors to Loki’s chambers– his eternal home for several months now– and announced loudly, “We are going on a hunting trip. You are coming with us, Loki.”

He couldn’t even protest to that. How could he, really? When Thor made up his mind like that… he just couldn’t. And so, Loki got dressed in more than his nightclothes, shouldered the pack Thor gave him– it was a light pack, but felt horribly heavy– and they started off. Thor and the warriors three laughed and joked loudly as they rode into the forests. Sif merely watched him distrustfully out of the corner of her eye. Loki didn’t see how this would make anything better. He was still the outsider. Sigyn wasn’t here. Neither were his little sons. 

He said nothing though. Thor halted the company, and they made camp. Loki attempted to help, but really proved to be more of a hindrance– his health was terrible. He hadn’t been taking care of himself well at all. But once the camp was made, and the fire was lit, and Thor’s goats slaughtered for supper, it got a little better. Thor tucked his younger brother up against him, making sure Loki was wrapped cozily in a blanket and, while he wasn’t exactly included in the conversations about glory in battle, he wasn’t shoved aside either. 

Once the fire died to embers, Loki slipped into the camping-bed inside the tent, then tilted his head upward, watching the stars. The slight bit of warming of his cold heart seemed to fade with the glowing of the embers. Now, in the silence, he was left to his own thoughts again.

The Nine Worlds: Muspellheim [1/9]

The first world to exist, however, was Muspell in the southern hemisphere, it is light and hot and that region flames and burns so that those who do not belong to it and whose native land it is not, cannot endure it. The one who sits there at land’s end to guard it is called Surt; he has a flaming sword, and at the end of the world, he will come and harry and will vanquish all the gods and burn the whole world with fire.”

Muspellheim is a realm perilously close to its sun, but the currents of Yggdrasill flow through it and so life arose, life had to arise, had to cope. Its people are large, their bodies wrinkled and webbed to lose heat, and dancing in fire is nothing to them. They are kin to the jotnar in some ways, in their temperature-formed blades of blistering, terrible heat rather than ice, and their cities are melted together with the heat of a thousand furnaces. As a civilisation, they are young, but restless and hungry, burning through their world and its resources and soon looking outward. Fear of Asgard held them, but there is a new leader who sees the shape of the universe, sees the worlds they could conquer. They do not intend to bring destruction, but bring it they will once they learn how to sear through spacetime.