When his worst fear comes true, Asgard's Dark Prince will stop at nothing to rescue his pregnant consort. Yet, not even the threat of Asgard's forces looming in the skies over Alfheim can force the Unseelie Winter Realm Elves to produce Shannon when...
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The dwarven reception chamber was a large cavernous space, with high carved pillars that depicted the line of previous kings. Although having a lifespan much longer than midgardians, dwarves had the shortest lives of the immortal races, living only about eight hundred years in Nidavellir. Sudri was the third king of this territory that I'd known in my years of visiting their realm.
"Welcome Prince Thor, Prince Loki, and companions. To what do we owe the visit?" asked Einhenda, the Dwarven Ambassador for King Sudri, as she gave a respectful nod.
"We come seeking my consort, Princess Shannon. She was taken. We have intelligence that she has been held here in Nidavellir by a dwarf named Galar," I answered. My usual patience with formalities was nonexistent, and I found myself having to still an unfamiliar urge to fidget. Politics was the last thing on my mind at present.
"I am not aware of a dwarf by that name. Is he or she in this territory?" Einhenda inquired. Her voice had turned cautious, eyes wide as she looked back and forth between Thor and I.
"We don't know, but we will seek him across all four territories if we must," Thor said. His expression was as dark as one of his storm clouds, with sparks of lightning in his eyes.
The ambassador swallowed, then asked, "You have proof that Galar has, or had, your consort?"
Fed up with the delay, I bit back my snarl as I projected the memory I had taken from Suttung and the casks of mead. When I finished, Einhenda was pale. Given the dark complexion of dwarves, it was an impressive feat.
Her voice trembled with suppressed outrage. "We do not abide by the twisted, depraved magic that has corrupted the Unseelie and some of the Jotun. I'll pass on the evidence to my king. We will not stop you from taking your revenge against this dwarf who has so clearly wronged you and your consort."
"Thank you, Ambassador Einhenda." I said.
She bowed deeply as we took our leave.
Exiting the chamber with impatient footsteps, we set off on the four-hour journey to Brokkr and Eitri's workshop. It was an easy walk through the wide dwarven tunnels. After taking one of their air chutes down to the correct level, we wove our way through the three bustling market caverns of Dumgan, Highrim, and Obsidian where they sold breads, grains, vegetables, livestock, preserved meats, metal ore, and other goods. Guild members sold products from the metalworkers, leatherworkers, gemworkers, artisans, builders, chemsmiths, and weaponsmiths. Ordinarily, we would have stopped to browse the selection of wares, but not today.
Upon leaving Obsidian, the last of the three markets, we followed the wide wagon trail tunnel until it reached the Howling Falls wharves on the Sea of Lantia. Workers busied themselves loading and unloading the numerous ships that travelled back and forth between dwarven kingdoms. After passing the bustling docks, we worked our way along the rocky shoreline path to finally climb the steps to Brokkr and Eitri's workshop.
