For the pagan Norse and other Germanic peoples, the concept of fate, known as Urðr or Örlög in Old Norse, Wyrd in Old English, Wurd in Old Saxon, Wurt in Old High German, and Proto-Germanic *Wurðiz, played a central role in determining the course of events in the universe. Much of what transpired, from the grand sweep of time to specific occurrences in the lives of individuals, was believed to be shaped by fate rather than random chance or the deliberate intentions of individuals. Even the mighty gods themselves were subject to the overpowering force of fate.
The only beings presumed not to be bound by fate were the Norns, who were responsible for shaping fate itself. The Norns were a group, sometimes described as a trio, of highly wise female entities with unparalleled magical abilities. They resided at the base of Yggdrasil, the cosmic tree at the center of the universe. Here, they etched the destinies of all beings in the cosmos onto the tree or, in another representation, wove them with threads, cutting the final strand at the end of an individual's life.
Understanding the sequence of events in the world and in one's own life required acknowledging the influence of fate, but fate itself remained inscrutable. Practitioners of the magical art of seidr could occasionally catch glimpses of what fate held in store, but there was no discernible reason why a particular outcome was fated while an alternative was not. Fate held no moral significance, and it operated without benevolent or malevolent motives. It represented the capricious whims of the Norns, which were entirely arbitrary in relation to human desires, as well as the desires of the gods and other beings. Fate and its creators were unyielding, and there was no action anyone could take to alter their fate. An Old Norse poem called Fáfnismál likened struggling against fate to rowing a boat against a powerful wind, emphasizing the futility of such efforts. The sentiment was echoed in the Old English poem The Wanderer, which stated, "Wyrd is wholly inexorable."
The senselessness of fate was to culminate in Ragnarok, the final destruction of the cosmos at some unknown point in the future. The Vikings believed that Ragnarok would happen because they believed that it was fated to happen; those who could see the shape of fate had prophesied it. At that time, the seers said, the gods would meet the giants, the forces of chaos, in battle – and the gods would lose. They would all die, and the universe whose life depended on theirs would die with them. Nothing would remain but nothingness itself.
Fate’s senselessness and Ragnarok’s inevitability imparted a prominent element of tragedy to the Vikings’ mythology and religion. One Old Norse poet directly stated a sentiment that was widespread in more implicit forms throughout his people’s literature when he wailed, “Evil is the decree of the Norns.”
If the Norse worldview had stopped there, it would have been quite nihilistic. But the Vikings found deep enchantment in the world just as it was for them, including much of what we today would call “nature” and “culture.” Indeed, part of what made fate “evil” is that it would one day utterly destroy all of this beauty and meaning that was native to the god-crafted world.
Furthermore, the Vikings believed that one’s fate was hardly more important than what one did with one’s fate – that is, the attitude with which one met whatever fate had in store. There was no honor in merely passively surrendering to fate. Instead, honor was to be found in approaching one’s fate as a battle to fight heroically – even if it was a battle one was ultimately doomed to lose.
The paradigmatic model for this attitude was the way the gods were to approach their own doom at Ragnarok. Rather than mope or curse their fate, they were said to stand and fight until the last. Odin even prepared by amassing an army of the finest human warriors in his hall Valhalla. This glorious host would fight alongside him and his divine companions during the final struggle, and all would go down together in what to Viking tastes was the most sublimely beautiful way to die: in battle, with a cry of ecstasy on one’s lips.