The Death of Baldr

Loki, my dear blood-brother. Born of giants, I befriended him and swore an oath to him. I swore that I would always defend him, that he would be my brother until the very end.
It was never easy, with Loki. He played tricks on my children, on the other gods here in Asgard. Mean tricks, at that. He crossed the line far too often, angering them, giving away things that did not belong to him. It is his nature, you see, it is who he is; one of his sons is the wolf, Fenrir. When a wolf bites you because it is hungry, you don’t see it as malice — a wolf is a wolf. As Loki is Loki.
Loki resented, I think, that his nature meant that he did not fit in.
Odin chuckles, and you see him wipe his good eye.
I have sons, you see, many sons. Some from my wife, Frigg, and some not. The most blessed Frigg gave birth to our dearest son, Baldr. Baldr was a beautiful being. The most handsome, the most kind, the most generous. He was the funniest, the dearest. Every one and every thing loved him. Well, all, save for one. Loki.
My wife so loved her son that she entreated everything in the nine worlds to promise to do him no harm. She begged the rocks, she begged the minerals. She asked the birds and the giants and fire and air. Every single thing so loved our son that it agreed. She… my wife did not ask mistletoe, however, this favor.
We gods were so delighted when we learned that Baldr could not be harmed that we took turns testing it. This is our nature too, you see. We are a jovial bunch. My other son Thor swung his hammer, Mjolnir — remind me to tell you of its creation — and Thor was sent flying back. We fired arrows and threw rocks and each bounced off our son as he laughed and laughed.
Loki disguised himself, for that is his power, and he asked my wife of Baldr’s newfound invulnerability, and she explained it. And Loki, the trickster, was able to learn the boy’s one weakness.
He crafted a spear from mistletoe and found Baldr’s brother—
Again, Odin wipes a tear.
--his brother Hodr. Hodr was blind from birth, you see, and wanted to take part. So Loki tricked our boy, and handed him the mistletoe spear. He pointed Hodr the way and told him to throw it, for it would bounce off Baldr.
Hodr laughing threw the spear and it struck Baldr. It killed him instantly. We watched, griefstricken, as Loki’s daughter Hel ascended and took our son into her dark domain where the unworthy go upon death, where those who die of old age or sickness or accident and not through glorious battle go.
Hodr accepted responsibility.
Long ago, Baldr’s death was prophesized to me. And I was told that it would be my son, Vali, who would right this wrong. And so it was that Frigg birthed Vali, and Vali grew to adulthood in a single day, and executed our other son — his brother — Hodr. At the funeral pyre for Baldr, his wife threw herself into the flames, so consumed she was with grief, and I tell you that not another being there didn’t consider the same.
Odin pauses for a full minute, thinking.
My dear wife spoke with Hel, and Hel offered to return her son under one condition: that every being grieve for her son. And they did — she spoke with every being, and every being cried when they heard his death. All save for one — a most foul giantess. Alas, Hel refused to return Baldr.
Drunk one night, as Loki was known to drink, he confessed to his crime. Bitter and angry that even after the loss of Baldr, he was not the favourite. So he confessed. He had given Hodr the spear and, perhaps an even greater crime, he had transformed into the giantess. For, there was a single being in all of creation that did not grieve, and it was he.
He attempted to escape, and very nearly did, but he was captured by my sons, Vali and Thor. Thor so despised my blood-brother that he wished to destroy him there, but he did not.
We buried Loki deep beneath the ground. We bound him, using the entrails of his son that he could not move. And above him we suspended a viper, a most venomous snake, and allowed the snake to drip out venom upon him second by second. We allowed him one reprieve: his wife was permitted at his side, to hold but a single bowl. She would catch the drops as they fell; however, as the bowl filled, she would need to empty it. Thus, every time the bowl filled up, the venom would fall into his face, burning him. That was to be his fate for all of eternity, until his escape. Until Ragnarok.
This was my betrayal, you see. I swore to protect Loki as a brother -- a blood oath. Driven to such anger, I broke my oath -- as any would -- but it excuses it not. I shall pay for my betrayal and Loki for his.