plumage, was bearing her swiftly away through the air to his desolate,
icy home in Thrymheim, where, after vainly trying to persuade her to
let him eat the Apples and be forever young like the gods, he kept her
a lonely prisoner.

Loki, after keeping his promise and delivering Idun into the hands of
the giant, strayed back into Asgard as if nothing had happened. The
next morning, when the gods assembled for their feast, there was no
Idun. Day after day went past, and still the beautiful goddess did not
come. Little by little the light of youth and beauty faded from the
home of the gods, and they themselves became old and haggard. Their
strong, young faces were lined with care and furrowed by age, their
raven locks passed from gray to white, and their flashing eyes became
dim and hollow. Bragi, the god of poetry, could make no music while
his beautiful wife was gone he knew not whither.

Morning after morning the faded light broke on paler and ever paler
faces, until even in heaven the eternal light of youth seemed to be
going out forever.

Finally the gods could bear the loss of power and joy no longer. They
made rigorous inquiry. They tracked Loki on that fair morning when he
led Idun beyond the gates; they seized him and brought him into solemn
council, and when he read in their haggard faces the deadly hate which
flamed in all their hearts against his treachery, his courage failed,
and he promised to bring Idun back to Asgard if the goddess Freyja
would lend him her falcon guise. No sooner said than done; and with
eager gaze the gods watched him as he flew away, becoming at last only
a dark moving speck against the sky.