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.

Thor banged on the heavy wooden door, and a shout echoed from inside.

"Hang on, hang on to your damn pants!" grumbled a low, rough voice as it got closer.

The door swung open and Brokkr stood there. He blinked a couple of times at seeing us and then a smile cracked his ugly face.

"Well! I'll be a spent chunk of coal! Asgardians at my door on this fine afternoon! Welcome!" he said as he stepped aside to let us come in.

When we walked past him, we entered the main workshop. It was a large open space with multiple forges along one wall and benches, tools, and materials in the centre. Another wall held shelves with weapons' moulds as well as finished weapons. The third wall had doors that I knew led to a couple of smaller workshops, several bedrooms, a bathroom, a lounge, and a kitchen.

Closing the door with a thump, Brokkr brushed his large bulk past us and opened the door to the corridor leading to the lounge and kitchen. We followed him and found Eitri sitting at a table with a mug of ale, eating stew while drawing a design. He looked up at our entrance, then smiled with delight.

"Asgardians! Thor! Loki! It is so good to see you! Nothing wrong with Mjolnir, is there?" he asked in his deep but surprisingly pleasant voice.

Thor swung Mjolnir around. "Nope, it's as good as the day you made it, Eitri!" 

"Ale?" asked Brokkr.

"Yes," Thor replied. "Oh, sorry. Introductions. This is Kara, Mist, and the twins Thjalfi and Roskva."

"I'm Brokkr," he said, pointing to himself. "This ugly face is Eitri," he pointed with his thumb.

"Hey! If I'm ugly, so are you, Brother!" Eitri complained good-naturedly.

Brokkr filled mugs with ale and set them down in front of each of us as we sat at the large table with Eitri.

"So what brings Asgardians to our door? Are you commissioning more weapons?" Eitri asked, one heavy eyebrow quirking up.

"Nothing that pleasant," I growled, before taking a big gulp of ale. I didn't want to be rude to Eitri and Brokkr, but my fury every time I considered what Shannon was suffering had me grasping for control of my powers.

"Loki's consort, Princess Shannon, has been taken. First by the Wild Hunt, then by a dwarf named Galar," Thor explained. "Do you know of him?"

Brokkr swore. "Yes. He's a slimy journeyman for the chemsmith guild. Never could get his master's rank. You'd have to be desperate to buy or trade anything with that piece of spent coal. He's got a buddy he hangs with... Oh, what's his name?"

"Fjalar," Eitri said, looking equally disgusted as his brother. "What a worthless hunk of basalt. That murderer spent time in the lowest coal mines after killing another dwarf. And he's also a journeyman chemsmith. Useless, the pair of them."

"Do you know where their workshop is?" asked Mist.

"Yes. It's two, two and a half hours from here, down on one of the lowest residence levels, I think," Eitri answered. "What in the five hells are Galar and Fjalar doing with your consort, Loki?"

My throat tightened and I couldn't respond. Instead, I projected Suttung's memory and our finding of the casks of mead for Eitri and Brokkr.

Both of them had their mouths hanging open in shock when I was done. Brokkr was the first to recover.

"Those foul lava-licking fools! I'll fucking kill them!" He got up and strode out towards the main workshop.

"Dead. Dead fucking dwarves walking," muttered Eitri as he followed his brother.

We looked at each other in surprise. I hadn't expected them to be almost as furious as I was. They didn't even know Shannon. Getting up, we rejoined them in the workshop.

Eitri picked up a heavy warhammer and Brokkr reached up to a top shelf to pull down a double-bladed axe.

"Do any of you need weapons?" Eitri asked.

"No, we're good. We came prepared," Thor said.

"Thank you for the offer, though. We appreciate it," I answered with a respectful nod. Dwarves did not offer their weapons lightly. Especially master weaponsmiths who'd crafted every weapon here themselves. It was a sign of great respect and trust.

Eitri grunted. "Least we can do. Right. Let's go get this done, then," he said, heading towards the door.

He opened it and headed out. We followed, with Brokkr bringing up the rear.

Back down the steps, we returned along the shoreline of the Sea of Lantia until we reached the Howling Falls wharves. Retracing our steps, we walked up the tunnel with the numerous heavily laden wagons to the Obsidian market cavern.

We wove our way through the busy market and through to the other side, but instead of the corridor that led back towards the next market cavern and the reception chamber, Eitri took a passageway that turned to the right.

Although less busy, we still passed other dwarves heading in the opposite direction. They gave us a curious look, but the scowl on Eitri and Brokkr's face didn't invite conversation. 

After another hour of walking, Eitri led us to an air chute. It was a long, long way down, much farther than I'd taken one of the chutes previously. When we exited the chute, the air was hotter with more of a sulphur stench.

It was about fifteen minutes of walking through various tunnels before we entered an enormous cavern with criss-crossing streams of lava. Eitri led us on a twisted path around and over stone bridges as we made our way through the cavern, turning to head towards a far wall. Looking at the writing above doorways, he stopped at a particular one and walked inside.

It was a workshop with several benches, forges on one side, and chemistry apparatus, casks, and cauldrons set up on the middle bench. Snarling, Eitri slammed his warhammer on the chemistry apparatus, shattering it. With another blow, he smashed the casks. The smell of mead and Shannon's blood filled the air.

Furious, I obliterated it all, including the workbench.

Eitri looked back at me and nodded. "Nicely done."

Thor and Brokkr disappeared into one of the rooms off of the workshop, while Thjalfi and Roskva took another, and Mist and Kara took a third. About to head to the fourth opening, I caught sight of something that had me halting dead in my tracks.

In the far corner, hanging on the wall by a small bed, iron chains with cuffs dangled. The chains were attached to a device on the wall that connected to the forges. I stopped Eitri, reaching up to put a hand on his shoulder, turning him towards the sight.

He sucked in a harsh breath. "No! They didn't!"

"Is this what I think it is?" I asked, horrified. Barely able to get the words out, nausea was a violent burn in my throat. By the Norns, I didn't want to accept what I was seeing.

"If you think it is one of the Unseelie's disgusting life force torture devices, then yes, it's exactly what you think it is," Eitri snarled with fury. He started ripping it apart.

"They have it connected to their forges?" I asked, before I roared, "They had my consort powering their fucking workshop like a gods-damned battery?"  

A turbulent storm of madness swept through me, wiping out rational thought. Only instinct remained. Swirling in the air around me, my power reflected the violent, chaotic inferno inside me.

Destroy.

Destroy it all.

Whatever my chaos power touched disintegrated in an ever-widening, churning black circle as primal rage tapped into the well of my Jotun heritage.

Gone. I wanted it all gone. Erased out of existence.

The others came racing back into the main workshop.

"Oh fuck," Mist said, her voice muffled to my ears.

Thor roared when he saw the device Eitri was dismantling, heedlessly striding around the edges of my swirling cloud of devastation to help Eitri rip it apart.

Seeing Thor almost in the path of my unleashed chaos jarred my brain from its animalistic destructive focus. 

As reason returned, the potential to accidentally kill my brother, another brother, had my fists clenched and body straining to rein it in. Chaos, once unleashed, wanted to grow on its own. With my chest heaving like I'd run the length of Asgard's plains, I clawed back control, bit by bit. Until finally, I got the last of the black tendrils of energy contained.

Two dwarves walked into the workshop, took one look and bolted back for the doorway. Like a leaping predator, I teleported in front of them, Laevateinn drawn and flaming, halting their flight. I wasn't about to let my prey escape.

Seconds later, the others had joined me, restraining the two dwarves.

"Galar and Fjalar, I presume?" I looked to Eitri when they stayed silent and he nodded.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but either way, you will tell me what I want to know." My voice was a lethal knife's edge, deceptively soft as I further reinforced control over my powers. A whisper in the back of my mind told me to just shred their brains, extracting what I wanted before obliterating them.

One dwarf looked defiant while the other flinched.

"Where is Shannon?"

"Don't know any Shannon," the defiant dwarf scoffed.

"The hard way it is, then," I said, smiling in delight. Restraining myself was getting harder by the second, especially after pulling back the chaos energy earlier.

The other dwarf started speaking, his words tumbling together in his rush to get them out. "We don't know! She got away the day before yesterday. We haven't been able to find her!"

Slapping my fingers to the dwarf's forehead, I sliced into his memories, uncaring at how it cut into his brain. Screams erupted, with blood bubbling out every orifice as I projected the memories for everyone. He told the truth.

Moving to the other dwarf, I tore into his mind, ignoring the horrific screeches he made as blood poured from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. I hacked and slashed through his brain, but I didn't get all the way through his memories of Shannon before black rage took over and his head was on the stone floor, Laevateinn in my hand. 

This fucker had been the one to cut into Shannon's arm, to steal her blood and make the mead. He'd hurt her! And I'd made his death too quick.

Muscles rigid, I howled my fury. By the Norns, I wanted to revive him just to kill him again, achingly slow. 

Furious, my telekinesis exploded the other dwarf's head as he begged, choking on blood.

"Gross Loki. Effective, but gross," complained Kara, wiping blood and brain matter from her face.

With a snarl, I kicked the severed head into the nearest forge.

"Two days! We missed her by two fucking days!" I roared, kicking and stomping the two headless bodies.