Several years ago I was gifted with a story regarding the early meeting, and subsequent marriage, of Thor and Sif. I have included this story below because I believe that it is a beautiful piece of modern mythology that should live on. I have given credit to the author at the end of the story.

Northern Mysteries Protogrove, ADF
Loaf-fest August 2016

Initiating the Rite –

Readying the folk by talking about the season and the purpose of our rite.

o Signal the folk by the blowing of a Horn to process in (If available and/or necessary)

Purification – Censing and Aspersing the folk as they enter the Nemeton

Once the folk have arrived, the horn was blown again three times

Opening Prayer/Statement of Purpose – Snow

Outdwellers –

“Ancient dark ones,
You who dwell in the outer dark,
You cold of heart and dim of mind.
Trouble not our working, for we leave behind,
Our weakness and perversity,
Our hatred and spite,
Our cowardice and ignorance.
We offer this (??) for being the keepers of these
energies, so we may continue our rite in peace and harmony.”

Honoring the Earth Mother – Jörð

Jörð, Great Earth,
Mother of Þór, lover of Odin
Daughter of Annar and Nótt
Beauteous goddess of land, we honor you.
Bountiful one, plentiful one, we honor you.
Lady of the soil, of the growing green, we call to you
Join us at our hearth and rite
Be one with us as we honor the traditions of old in new ways
Grant us your blessings that we may carry forward on our paths the sturdiness of your strength.
Jörð, accept our offering
Hail Jörð!

Bardic Inspiration – honoring Kvasir. –

Kvasir, Wise One,
Treaty of the Aesir and Vanir
Kettle-born, War’s End
Sage one, traveler, teacher
From your lips come honeyed-words to those that listen
From your blood bursts forth the mead-fire from which inspiration springs
Essence of Poetry, join us at our fire,
Ward well our words that they inspire, not incite,
That frith is held for those gathered here today.
Kvasir, creative muse, accept our offering.
Hail Kvasir!

(Re)Creating the Cosmos – Snow

Gatekeeper – Mani –

Mani, Silver Wanderer of the Skies,
Son of time-reckoner,
Brother of Ever-glow and Shining-star
Stirrer of the tides, counter of the year
We, the children of Earth, call out to you.
As you ride the heavens it is you that sees the turning of the wheel
Reflecting the brilliance of your sister, Sunna, you bring hope and peace to those that turn their faces to you.
Heavenly body of all nine realms we ask that you stand between the worlds.
Blend your magic with ours that the gates will be opened and warded by your ever-present light.
Mani, Bright Moon, accept our offering.
Hail Mani!

Opening the Gate(s) – Snow

Inviting the Three Kindreds –

Landvaettir:

Brothers and Sisters of the land, seen and unseen
Take heed our call, oh heart kin and guides.

You of stone, stream, and fertile soil,
Spirits of every water; both moving and still
Earth-kins, we welcome you

You of the growing green,
Herb and flower, shrub, and mighty trees,
Green-kins, we welcome you

You of fur, feather, scale, or fin,
All who walk, or fly, or swim, or crawl
Animal-kins, we welcome you.

Nobel Ones, we call to you as our allies,
Join us at our hearth and rite this day.
Spirits of land and place accept our offering
Hail the Landvaettir!

Ancestors:

Mothers and Fathers of Old, Grandmothers and Grandfathers,
Those that have gone before us
For your sacrifices and your tears, we honor you
For your joys and your laughter, we honor you

Ancestors of hearth, of heart, of home, of land, of blood
Whether gone for centuries or a mere moment’s breathe
We, the Children of the Earth, call to you
For that which is remembered lives on forever.
Stand with us and help us that we may be better than we were,
Stronger than we are,
And wiser for what may be.

Be welcome at our fire and our rite this day
Beloved dead, accept our offering.
Hail the Ancestors!

Shining Ones:

To the powerful beings of the Shining Ones
Deities old and new
The wanderers, the healers, the powers of hearth, the powers of inspiration
The warriors, the lovers, the powers of family, the oath-keepers, the guardians
The seekers, the finders, the hunters, the seers

All of you named and un-named
We honor you and give you your due.
For the gifts of ghosti, the lessons in humility
For the wisdom, and the light, we hail you.

You who walk with us, lead us, help us, we call to you
Be welcome at our fire and our rite this day
Bright and Shining Ones, accept our offering
Hail the Gods! Hail the Goddesses!

Kindred Praise Offerings –

Deities of the Occasion: Þór and Sif

Story:

In the days before the forging of Mjolnir, Thor was renowned as a slayer of Jottun, unmatched by Vanir, Ettin or troll in battle or in duel. He was ever alone. While Odin had sweet Frigga for his own, and Loki the seducer had two wives and many mistresses, Thor himself had found no goddess, elf, or mortal to win his heart. In those days none was more traveled than Loki, for he alone ranged at will in places held by god or Jottuns both. When Thor sat in his hall brooding over his troubles, Loki teased him, seeking to learn his troubles.

“What gives you the black look, red-beard?” Loki asked.

“Your brow gets any lower it will be lost in your beard” When Loki’s jibes got no answer, he sat upon the bench with his kinsmen and asked in seriousness,

“Come Thunderer, what trouble has left you so quiet?”

In a rush Thor spoke of his failure to find a wife who would fill his heart with joy, his hall with strong sons and proud daughters. When he was finished, Thor looked hard at Loki, as if daring him to laugh.

After a few moments, Loki seemed to have a thought. He began to speak of a maiden in far of Jottunheim, named Sif. Daughter of a mighty father, and a wise-woman mother, she was of the ancient Jottun blood but fair beyond all words. Loki spoke of her hair soft as corn silk, golden as summer wheat that fell in braids like streams of honey. Loki spoke of her snow-like skin, her ice blue eyes, and her proud yet gentle bearing, and as he wove his word-spell the fire lit within the eyes of the Thunderer, until his eyes blazed like his beard.

With a shout he was off around his hall Bilskirnir, shouting for his servants to ready his cart and his mighty goats. In his finest raiment, filling a chest with the finest of his treasures as guest gifts and promise of richer bride tokens, Thor set out at once for Jotunheim.

At the hall of Sif, Thor found that he was not alone in wooing her, for Utgard-Loki also sought her fair hand. When Thor offered to fight for her, Sif said that her kinsmen had been driven from the fertile fields and into the rocky mountain fastness by endless battle that she could not be won by more of the same. Sif demanded that each suitor prove his worth and commitment by a contest. In a voice soft and calm as the wind in the tall grain, she spoke thus to her suitors:

“I am a maiden alone, without household. As my mother taught me to cook for my mighty father, I have prepared a feast. To no lesser god or ettin could I wed myself, so to he who can eat my fathers portion, and drain my fathers cup, shall have me to wife”

Utgard-Loki towered above Thor, his massive thews coiled with golden arm rings, his cloak of seamless soft fur thrown back to reveal a chest the size of a bear. He laughed at the test and boasted, “I am best of Jottun, rich chieftain of famed table. All the nine worlds know that my feasts know no equal. You will find me a mightier man at the table than this red bearded stripling”

Thor scowled, ill pleased he could not settle this with hard strokes, but in no way willing to be bested by any ettin.

“Second to no ettin, god or wight at table or battle both, I will win thee for my own fair Sif!” he vowed.

In the central firepit hung two roasting giant auroch, easily seven feet at the shoulder. The sweet smell of their sizzling fat hung heavy in the hall, and with a right good will did Utgard-Loki step up and seize the first. Biting with his bearsized jaws, he swore as his strong teeth failed.

“Too long we waited for this boasting Aesir to come. This meat has gone tough as old bone!” He threw the auroch aside and laughed, “In my hall you will never cook, for I have full hundred thralls.”

Sifs eyes looked coldly upon the discarded auroch, and upon the smirking Jottun. She turned to Thor to see how he would respond.

“In Bilskirnir hall right gladly will I eat any fare from your hand, and at your call will be servants of better mettle than his whipped thralls” answered Thor as he stepped to his auroch.

With his matchless arms he raised his auroch, although it weighed more than a ship. With iron jaws he chewed the auroch, although for so fair a maiden and so famed a cook, the meat was hard as stone! Bite after bite did Thor chew, gnawing here and there upon the beast until he could eat no more. For all that Thor staggered backwards with the beast only showing a few meager holes, Sif smiled full fair upon him.

Sif held forth a great horn, almost an amphora. “This is my father’s mead horn and he who drains it dry shall find my favour”

Utgard-Loki again seized first chance, and raised the cup in his two great hands and began to guzzle. With a startled oath he spat on the floor crying, “Too salty! In my hall have I sisters thrice who brew fine mead that never will you have to drink such a bitter cup!”

Utgard-Loki’s boasts again left Sif unmoved. Sif turned to Thor as if daring him to do better. With a right good will the Stormbringer raised the cup to his beard and manfully drew deep. In truth it was bitter with salt, but with her soft eyes upon him the Aesirman would not yield and swallowed full until his blood hammered in his ears like the breaking surf, and he could no more wait for breath. With a gasp he handed back the horn, and lay panting upon the floor of the great hall.

Utgard-Loki laughed to see the Jottun-bane laid low, and demanded since each suitor had failed the tests that she find another way to choose between them.

Sif’s blue eyes blazed like lightning in a summer storm and her voice rang hard and bold as a sword upon a shield boss. “Not so,” she proclaimed, “For the auroch each were given were the mountains my Jottun kinsmen have been driven into. Thor alone had the will to chew great fjords to bring my people safe harbours, swift travel, and bountiful catches. For this gift he has found my favour.”

Utgard-Loki scowled as he saw the son of Jord swell with rising hope. The Jottun sought to win back the favour he had lost by a matching offer.

“My halls overflow with gold, and were you mine would I send great ships of wealth to your kinsmen’s harbours.”

Sif was unmoved by this offer and she replied, “My kinsmen are no beggars, and no one can feast on gold. While you found the horn I brought too bitter, Thor alone had the will to drink deep until he could hold no more. This horn holds not beer or mead but Ran’s own ocean. Where Thor has drained the seas do my kinsmen find rich lands now fertile that in the summer will hang heavy with golden grain. For this he will find my favour, and my hand”

With right good will did Thor and Sif make their pledges, and no Aesir, Vanir or Jottun could claim aught but that his bride gifts were rich and fair, and that his oaths to Sif were so fairly pledged and firmly held that ages later would bride-grooms place a hammer in their bride’s lap as a token that they would be as true as Thor. For all that Loki was not always welcome in the halls of his kinsmen, ever would Sif treat him fair as the one who sent her bridegroom to her.

Utgard-Loki neither forgot nor forgave Thor’s winning of the fair Sif, and indeed there would come a time when he would seek to challenge the matchless Aesir to another battle of wits, but that is a story for another day.
(Written by John T. Mainer)

Þór –

Þór, Mighty Thunderer,
Donar, Thunar, Vingþorr
Son of Jörð and Oðin,
Father of Magni, Moði, and Þruðr
Husband of Sif
Wielder of Mjöllnir
Guardian of Ásgarð, we honor you,
You who shield the world of Midgarð from the Etin-kind
Protector, Defender, Champion of the Æsir, we honor you
In tales of old you use your hammer not only in battle but in blessing and rebirth.
Red-beard, join us at our hearth and rite this day
Revel with us as we honor the ways of old with new traditions.
Hlórriði, accept our offering.
Hail Þór!

Sif –

Sif, you of the golden hair,
Mother of Þruðr and Ullr,
Bride of Þór,
Goddess of connection, of relation, of the golden harvest
Lady of dwarven-locks, we honor you,
Keeper of the grains, we honor you,
Wise weaver of binding ties, bow-mistress,
Sparker of treasure-forging we call to you.
Gilt-clad, join us at our hearth and rite this day
Celebrate with us as we honor the ways of old with new traditions.
Sif, accept our offering.
Hail Sif!

Praise offerings for Þór and Sif

Final offerings

Omen –

Do the folk accept the omen?

Waters of Life –

Working – Energy raising for harmony, healing, and good fortune for the community

Thanking the Beings (Þór and Sif)

Thank the Kindreds –

Shining Ones:
Ancestors:
Landvaettir:

Closing the Gate(s) –

Thanking the Gatekeeper –

Thanking Bardic Inspiration –

Thanking the Earth Mother

Blow the horn to signal the end