The binding of Fenrir is one of the most powerful stories in Norse mythology. It tells how the gods, afraid of a wolf that grew larger every day, tricked him into accepting a chain he could not break — and how the god Tyr placed his hand in the wolf’s mouth as a pledge of good faith, knowing he would lose it. The story is told most fully by Snorri Sturluson in the Gylfaginning section of his Prose Edda (c. 1220), and it touches every major theme of the mythology: fate, oaths, deception, sacrifice, and the coming of Ragnarök.
The Wolf-Child
Fenrir (also called Fenrisúlfr, “Fenris-wolf,” and Hróðvitnir, “fame-wolf”) was one of three monstrous children born to Loki and the giantess Angrboða in Jötunheim. His siblings were Jörmungandr, the serpent who would encircle the world, and Hel, the half-living, half-dead ruler of the underworld (see The Children of Loki).
The gods learned from prophecies that these children would bring great harm. Odin had the serpent cast into the ocean and sent Hel to rule the dead in Niflheim. But the wolf he decided to keep in Asgard, where the gods could watch him. Perhaps they hoped to tame him.
Fenrir grew enormous and savage. Only Tyr had the courage to go near him and give him his food.
The First Two Chains
When the gods saw how quickly Fenrir was growing, and remembered the prophecies that he would be their destruction, they decided to bind him. They could not simply kill him: in Snorri’s account, the gods “held their sanctuaries and places of peace in such respect” that they would not defile them with the wolf’s blood.
They forged a strong iron fetter called Leyding and brought it to the wolf, suggesting he test his strength against it. Fenrir looked at it, judged that it was not beyond him, and let them put it on. He kicked once, and Leyding broke.
The gods made a second fetter, twice as strong, called Drómi. They told Fenrir that if he could break this one, he would be famous for his strength. The wolf thought that although this chain was very strong, his own strength had grown since he broke Leyding, and that one must take risks to become famous. He let them put it on. He shook himself, dashed the fetter against the ground, and strained, and Drómi burst into pieces that flew far away.
From this, Snorri says, come the Icelandic expressions “to get loose from Leyding” and “to dash out of Drómi,” meaning to escape from great difficulty.
Gleipnir: The Impossible Chain
The gods now feared they would never be able to bind the wolf. Odin sent Skírnir, the servant of the god Freyr, to the land of the dark elves (the dwarves) to commission a fetter. The dwarves made Gleipnir (“open one” or “entangler”) from six things:
- The sound of a cat’s footfall
- The beard of a woman
- The roots of a mountain
- The sinews of a bear
- The breath of a fish
- The spittle of a bird
Snorri adds a wry explanation: this is why cats make no sound when they walk, women have no beards, mountains have no roots, fish do not breathe (as he understood it), and birds do not spit. The things were used up in making the chain. As for the sinews of a bear, he admits they do exist but says his readers must take the rest on trust.
The resulting fetter was as smooth and soft as a silken ribbon, but stronger than any chain of iron.
The Wolf’s Suspicion
The gods took Fenrir out to an island called Lyngvi in a lake named Amsvartnir. They showed him the silken band and challenged him to break it, passing it between themselves and pretending to test it, and saying that it was stronger than it looked.
Fenrir was suspicious. If it was really as thin as it looked, he said, there would be no fame in breaking it. And if it was made with guile and trickery, then, thin as it looked, he would not let it on his legs.
The gods replied that he would quickly snap such a thin silk band, since he had already broken great iron fetters. And if he could not break it, then the gods would have nothing to fear from him, and would set him free.
Fenrir answered: “If you bind me so that I cannot get free, you will be laughing, and it will be a long time before I get any help from you. I am unwilling to have this band put on me. But rather than have you question my courage, let one of you put his hand in my mouth as a pledge that this is done in good faith.”
Tyr’s Hand
Each of the gods looked at the others. No one wished to lose his hand. Then Tyr stepped forward and put his right hand in the wolf’s mouth.
The gods bound Fenrir with Gleipnir. When the wolf kicked against it, the band only grew tighter; the harder he struggled, the stronger it held. Then all the gods laughed — except Tyr. He lost his hand.
The contrast is devastating in its simplicity. Fenrir had predicted exactly what would happen: “you will be laughing.” And he was right. The gods’ laughter is the laughter of those who have won by a trick. Tyr’s silence is the silence of the one who paid for it.
Securing the Wolf
The gods took the end of the fetter, which was called Gelgja, passed it through a great stone slab called Gjöll, and drove the slab deep into the earth. They took a still larger rock, Thviti, and hammered it down further as an anchor. The wolf gaped horribly, snapping and trying to bite them, so they thrust a sword into his mouth: the hilt against his lower jaw and the point against his upper jaw, propping it open. He howled terribly, and saliva ran from his mouth and formed a river called Ván, “expectation” or “hope.”
There he lies until Ragnarök.
The Wolf Unbound
At the end of the world, Snorri says, all bonds will break. Fenrir will break free and advance with his jaws gaping so wide that the upper one touches the sky and the lower one the earth; he would open them wider if there were room. Fire will blaze from his eyes and nostrils. He will fight Odin and swallow him whole. Then Odin’s son Víðarr will avenge his father, placing one foot on the wolf’s lower jaw — wearing a great shoe made from all the scraps of leather people have ever cut from their shoes — and tearing the jaws apart.
Tyr himself will not face Fenrir at the end. He will fight the hound Garmr, and they will kill each other. See Ragnarök: The Twilight of the Gods.
Meaning of the Myth
The binding of Fenrir raises questions that the Norse themselves may have felt keenly.
- Can fate be avoided? The gods try to prevent the wolf’s destruction of Odin by binding him. The effort only delays it. In Norse myth, fate (wyrd) cannot be escaped, only faced.
- What is the cost of security? The gods achieve safety through deception, breaking faith with a creature they raised. The price is paid in Tyr’s flesh, and perhaps also in the wolf’s hatred, which will be terrible when he is freed.
- What is an oath worth? In a society built on pledges and hostages, the image of a hand given in pledge was deeply meaningful. Tyr honours the pledge even though the bargain is false.
Some scholars have compared the story to Indo-European myths of a sky-god or law-god who loses a hand or an eye: the Irish Nuada, king of the Tuatha Dé Danann, loses his arm in battle and receives a silver one; the Norse Odin gives an eye for wisdom. The French scholar Georges Dumézil argued that Tyr and Odin represent two aspects of sovereignty — the juridical and the magical — each maimed in the service of their function.
Depictions
A few images from the Viking Age and earlier may show the myth. A bracteate (a thin gold medallion) from Trollhättan in Sweden, from the Migration Period, shows a figure with his hand in the mouth of a wolf-like beast. Modern artists have depicted the scene often, and the image of the one-handed god has become a symbol of self-sacrifice and honour in modern Heathenry and popular culture.
Last reviewed: September 2026.