The supreme god, Óðinn, was exploring the nine realms with his travel companions
Hœnir, and the notoriously mischievous Loki.
After a long journey, the three reached a waterfall in Niðavellir,
the subterranean land of the dwarves, and stopped for water.
Óðinn and Hœnir were eager to meet Hreiðmarr, the king of the dwarves,
but Loki was bored and hungry.
Spotting an otter nearby, Loki tossed a stone at its head,
killing the animal.
He kept its pelt and slouched after the others.
When they greeted Hreiðmarr, the king paled,
for the pelt belonged to none other than his shapeshifting son.
Hreiðmarr summoned his two surviving sons, Fáfnir and Regin,
and bound the gods.
He decided he would let them go in exchange for gold, as was the custom,
but only if they could fill the otter pelt with the finest gold
until not even a hair was visible.
Because of how the otter skin stretched,
this meant procuring a nearly impossible amount—
but Loki had an idea.
The dwarves were master craftspeople.
One of them, Andvari, was said to forge marvelous creations.
Andvari often took the form of a fish and, one day,
he dove deeper than ever before—
so deep he reached the land of the water nymphs,
who guarded mounds of gold.
At first, Andvari merely wanted to see their treasures for himself.
But when the nymphs laughed at his awkward appearance,
Andvari grew infuriated and seized their gold.
With it, he crafted himself a special ring.
As long as he wore it, Andvari’s wealth would grow and grow.
Loki saw Andvari’s riches as the perfect solution to their problem.
He returned to the waterfall, conjured a huge net,
and extracted a wriggling fish.
As Andvari squirmed, Loki jeered that he’d kill him
unless he handed over his treasure.
Andvari directed Loki to his lair.
Satisfied with the heaps of gold he saw there,
Loki freed Andvari—
but a sudden glint off of one of the dwarf’s fingers
alerted Loki that he’d missed the most powerful treasure of all.
Despite Andvari’s pleas, Loki tore the ring away.
Seething, Andvari cursed the ring,
declaring that it would be the doom of all its subsequent owners.
Back at the palace,
Andvari’s gold appeared to completely cover the otter skin.
But as Hreiðmarr inspected the pelt,
he saw a single, bare whisker peeking out.
So, the gods relinquished the ring.
As Hreiðmarr slipped it onto his finger,
Regin shuddered at the greed in his father’s eyes,
while his brother, Fáfnir, looked on in envy.
Later, when Fáfnir demanded that the king share the wealth,
Hreiðmarr refused.
So, Fáfnir killed his father,
pried the coveted ring from his finger, and fled the palace with the treasure.
He came to rest in a cave where he curled around his new possessions.
The ring warped him inside and out, and over time,
Fáfnir morphed into a gruesome dragon.
Meanwhile, Fáfnir’s betrayal and guarded treasure bore into Regin’s mind.
He finally enlisted the help of his loyal foster son, a warrior named Sigurd,
to slay the monster his brother had become.
Sigurd did as instructed.
Afterwards, Regin asked Sigurd to roast the beast’s heart so he could consume it.
Sigurd obeyed and tasted the heart’s blood before serving him.
But as soon as the liquid met Sigurd’s tongue,
he understood the chatter of the surrounding birds.
They were singing of but one thing: Regin was going to kill him.
So, Sigurd slayed Regin and seized the wealth for himself.
This was only the beginning.
Over the coming years, the ring would tear families apart, doom lovers,
and empower, then ultimately destroy, any who had it in their possession.
Andvari’s curse set a vicious cycle in motion that would consume many lives—
and inspire some of the most influential works of the 19th and 20th centuries.
