Thor's Fishing Trip

The tale goes a bit like this:

Thor and Tyr travelled east to the hall of Hymir, seeking the giant’s vast brewing cauldron, an iron-bellied vessel no hearth could humble. Hymir welcomed them with a stare that felt colder than his stone walls, yet duty forced him to offer food. Thor ate until the benches trembled, and Hymir, mourning his vanished stores, declared they would go to sea at dawn to restock what the God of Thunder had devoured.

Morning rose pale and metallic as they walked to the shore. Hymir gathered his gear but refused Thor any bait, muttering that a guest should fend for himself. Thor wandered to the pasture and returned with the severed head of Hymir’s best ox balanced politely between his hands. The giant’s face darkened like an approaching squall, but he spoke no protest.

They rowed far past the last whisper of land until the sea lay open and indifferent beneath them. Hymir hauled up whales with the dreary practice of one long resigned to abundance. Thor, however, lowered the ox head into a deeper blue, a depth that seemed to brood on ancient grudges. 
The line shivered. Then roared. It heaved against him as if the sea itself had grown a spine. From below, coils older than memory surged upward, shedding darkness: Jörmungandr, the world-encircling serpent, rising in a swell that bent the daylight.

Thor braced so hard his feet punched through the planks. God and serpent locked into a grim debate of strength, the ocean trembling around them as though waiting for a verdict. The serpent writhed, its girth stirring tides, its eyes like slow lightning. Thor dragged it higher, teeth bared, reaching for his hammer to finish what prophecy had postponed. 
But Hymir, terrified of the world’s ending taking place in his own boat, slashed the line. Jörmungandr sank, coils rolling away like vast, offended thoughts. The sea stilled, pretending nothing had happened.

Thor regarded the cut rope, then calmly seized the trembling giant and cast him into the water with a motion as tidy as closing a door. He rowed back alone, the sky brightening around him, still intent on claiming the cauldron that set this strange voyage in motion.