The Mystery of Fenris and Tyr
by Kenaz Filan
In Jotunheim, the children say "The
Hag of the Iron Wood had three children, and the daughter was Death, the son
was Destruction, and the third encircled the world." This is the story of
the son, and his binding in Niflheim, and of the cost of that binding.
Today we know very little about Tyr. Other than a few scraps of lore, a rune, and the myth of the binding of Fenris, most of his legends and tales have been forgotten. Yet we know that once he was among the most important of the deities. The heathens named one of the days of their week after him, and Tacitus tells us that he was very important among the Goths and many of the Germanic tribes they encountered. The Romans equated Tyr with their warrior god Mars, which tells us that he was a very powerful and widely honored deity indeed. We also know from Tacitus that Tyr was occasionally given human sacrifice. But we also know that some tribes gave great honor to a deity whom the Romans identified with Mercury - a wandering runemaster and magician whom we know better as Odin.
Some linguists believe that the word "Tiu" or "Tyr" comes from the same root as the Sanskrit "Dayus" or the Latin "Deus" - the chief god. Before Odin was ruler of the Aesir, they surmise, Tyr was the leader. Others point out that Tyr was closely connected to the "Thing," the place where people came together to discuss ideas. If he was ruler of the Thing, it would only be reasonable to surmise that he was at one time the master of order at the assemblies of the gods.
We also know that Tyr was known for his honesty. An Old English Rune Poem equates Tyr with Polaris, the Pole Star, and states:
Honor's a star that holds very true
With ones elevated. Always on course
Through darkest of dark-times and never the noble deceives.
And so this is not only the story of how Fenrir was bound: it is also the story of how Odin claimed the rulership which was once held by Tyr.
After the Aesir had cast Jormungandr into the sea and sent Hela to Helheim, they brought Fenrir to Asgard to be raised among them. They knew the Norns had spoken. They knew that if Fenrir were allowed to run free he would finally devour the world. But just as men often try to escape their destiny, so the gods sometimes try to thwart their omens. They knew the proud pup would grow into a mighty beast, and hoped that maybe they could domesticate Fenrir and make a guardian of him.
And
so Tyr took the young Fenrir in and raised him. Of all the Aesir, Tyr
understood how to subdue savagery. The blood of Jotunheim ran pure through his
veins - he was child of the frost giant Hymir and the mountain giantess
Fjörgyn. Tyr knew better than anyone what it took to hold passions in check,
and he did everything he could to teach this to Fenrir.
Anyone who has ever had a dog knows the emotional bond which arises between canines and their keepers. Tyr was known for being loyal and fearless; he loved his kin and his tribe and protected them against any who would harm them. How could he not love Fenrir? As pack predators, the wolf encompasses all of these traits... and Fenrir was the mightiest of wolves, the quintessence of wolfhood. Some say that Tyr was the only Aesir brave enough to feed the mighty wolf. I believe that Tyr loved Fenrir because he understood him -- and vice versa.
But as Fenrir grew it became clear that the prophecies were not to be denied. And so the gods tried to bind him, but the mighty wolf broke every chain they laid upon him.
At last the gods sent Skirnir, the one who brought Freya his wife Gerda, to the dwarves. They had called on their usual intercessor between the dwarves and Aesir, but this time Loki refused to help. He knew as well as anybody - and better than most - that Fenrir had to be bound, but that didn't mean that he was going to play any role in in the betrayal of his son.
The dwarves answered Skirnir's challenge. They made a chain from the sound of a cat's footfall, the beard of a woman, the roots of a mountain, bear's sinews, fish's breath, and bird's spittle. They named this chain Gleipnir - "Deceiver."
The Aesir challenged Fenrir to break Gleipnir, but Fenrir was no fool: he knew there was magic to the chain. And so he said that he would do so only if one of the gods would place his right hand in Fenrir's muzzle as a pledge to free him if he failed to break the chain. In Germanic culture, your right hand was used to swear an oath, and oaths were very serious business indeed. There were few insults more deadly than "oathbreaker" and few crimes more base than breaking an oath. It was not fear of Fenrir that stopped the gods from offering their hands; it was fear of dishonor. For a long second the assembly of gods stood silent. Finally Tyr, the leader of the Aesir-Thing, the one who loved Fenrir best, the one whose very word was oath, stepped up and placed his hand in Fenrir's muzzle. He was honorable, yes; among the Nine Worlds you would find none more honorable than Tyr. But he was also lord and chieftain over gods and men, and sworn to protect their realms. Fenrir, who loved Tyr and trusted him, allowed the other gods to lay Deceiver upon him. And so Fenrir was bound, and so Tyr sacrificed his hand - and his word, and his honor - to do what had to be done.
Snorri Sturluson says all the gods but Tyr laughed as Fenris struggled against Deceiver. He should have said that Tyr wept for the friend he loved, and for the burden which had been laid upon them both.
In a small clan, the rulership of Tyr works best. When everyone knows they can trust the absolute honor of their leader, when everyone knows that their leader will never lie to them, they can function as a powerful and effective unit. But in a larger clan, sometimes it becomes necessary to do things which aren't "honorable." Machiavellian manipulations and unspoken nastiness are required on occasion; double- and even multiple-dealing may be called for if the ruler's people face danger. Tyr could not understand that. He was an straightforward god, not a cunning one. He was no nimble-tongued trickster like Loki, no wily strategist like Odin. And Odin knew that, and knew that the gods needed a leader capable of both honor and cunning. Some say Odin did what had to be done for gods and men. Others say that Odin coveted Tyr's position as ruler and plotted to overthrow him. Perhaps both are right, perhaps both are wrong. On this neither the One-Eyed nor the One-Handed God will say yea or nay.
And so Odin gifted Tyr with Fenrir and told him that he was the only one with the strength to care for the great beast. And Tyr, who had long admired the mighty wolves who follow Odin, accepted the gift gladly. He knew that Odin did not lie: he knew that no one else in Asgard or Vanaheim could be alpha to Fenrir. And Tyr took the wolfling as gift and loved him as Fenris grew to love him.
After Tyr was unhanded his power waned. He had followed his greater oath; he had protected his people even at the cost of his own defeat and his personal dishonour, even at the cost of pain to the wolf he loved as his own child, but in betraying Fenrir something had broken inside him. And so little by little power passed to the tree-hung one, just as Odin had foreseen. In time Tyr was almost forgotten and Odin was hailed as the All-Father who commanded the gods.
They say that Tyr still visits Fenrir and brings him the treats he loved when they walked together unbound. He sits by the side of his mighty wolf and strokes his fur and together they weep for the things that must be. And Fenrir knows that Odin was the mastermind behind this, and so he has sworn that on the day of Ragnarok he will be the one who brings Odin death. Fenrir has sworn this not for the binding which Odin brought upon him, but because of the suffering which Odin brought to the master he loved and loves still.
For myself, I say only that the ways of gods are not the ways of man, and their truths are not mine to understand.
A Moment With Fenrir
By Elizabeth Vongvisith
I had been a Northern-Tradition spirit-worker for a couple of years, but I had not encountered Fenrir until I witnessed two spirit-possessions by this son of Loki and Angrboda within the space of a few days. It wasn't until then that I began to understand the great Wolf and appreciate both his power and the wisdom of those who bound him.
When Fenrir was horsed by a man who had been chained up for the purpose, I saw him clearly. It was as if my Sight telescoped out between the worlds, through and past the man horsing him and into the realm where Fenrir is chained. I could see a great brindled wolf, yellow of eye and sharp of fang, teeth bared and every muscle and sinew tense with unimaginable, tortured strength. During the next few minutes, I saw what Sky-treader's most terrible offspring really is...and that was surprisingly difficult to endure.
At first I was overcome with a strong desire to run away, but though I took one or two steps back, I found myself unable to move further. Fenrir's enormous rage overwhelmed me, even bound and controlled as he was. And while some of his rage is directed at those who fettered him thus, much of it is simply the savage desire to tear apart whoever and whatever stands in his path, the ecstasy of dealing out pain and death. I understood right away that were he given the chance, Fenrir would most likely devour me without a second thought. I doubt it would matter that I am not his enemy, that I am beloved of Loki his father, or that I also serve his sister, Hela. The knowledge was sobering, because while I had held it in my head for some time before that, this was the first time I had felt it with my heart.
It's a humbling thing to really know for the first time that for all your imagined gifts, "higher purpose" and self-importance, you are merely meat to be flayed from your bones before being swallowed in pieces. Those who believe that the beings of the Nine Worlds are all at their disposal or command would do well to avoid contact with Fenrir lest their illusions be very painfully stripped away - though that might just be the best thing for them. There is no mortal alive who can subdue Fenrir or calm his fury if he were to break his chain. To see him is to know, totally and completely, that there is no turning the Powers That Be on and off at will, despite what humans like to tell themselves. "Nature red in tooth and claw" doesn't even come close to describing him.
For all Fenrir's wildness, though, he has a shrewd mind that knows full well why he is there and why he was chained, though he deeply resents it. He has given himself over to bloodlust, yet he is willing to bide his time, to wait patiently until the day comes when he can once more run amok and have his revenge on those who bound him. And because of all this, there is a sort of strange dignity about Fenrir, a majesty that utterly belies his reputation as a mere indiscriminating beast. That realization broke my terror apart and allowed it to give way to a sudden pain that pierced me to the core and literally took my breath away. I tried once more to tear myself away from the scene and leave, and again I found that I could not.
In those moments, thought it was painful, I began to understand the Mystery of the great wolf, bound until the end of the Nine Worlds. I stood there distraught, weeping as Fenrir's snarls and growls came to my ears from both this world and the other, and all the time I remained aware that were he not chained, he could easily kill those of us within his reach. I watched as Fenrir was quieted by a divine hand and gradually put to sleep, to dream things I'm not certain I want to know about. When it was over and the man horsing him slowly sat up, dazed and himself again, in my mind's eye I could still see Fenrir, restless in his slumber in a world far away. In the wake of his departure, I experienced a rush of mingled and confusing emotions - relief, sadness, anger, sympathy and a profound respect too - the kind of respect I'd have for an erupting volcano. I can appreciate it and even love it, but I have no illusions that either my appreciation or my love will protect me from its hot magma and choking ash.
To know and understand Fenrir is to know and understand that destruction sometimes comes for no purpose other than destruction itself, and that this is as much a part of a functioning universe as life, love and rebirth. Ragnarok or no, I fear there will be no happy ending to Fenrir's story - but I likewise suspect that it doesn't matter to him either way. He is what he is and neither cares to appear otherwise, nor tries to. He is unapologetic in his lusts, a hunter and a killer without conscience or shame. Fenrir is the mightiest of sorrows, chaos uncontrollable - bound for the present, but never truly tamed, and his Mystery is that this is both tragedy and cause for reverence.