Title: Princes of Air
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst, violence, lovelorn stupidity.

Summary: As a prince of the Aesir, the godlike beings that ruled over the Nine Realms from above, Kurogane Stormcaller should have little enough to worry him besides hunting, feasting, and calling down lightning to smite his unlucky foes. But Kurogane has to deal with not one, but two Gods of Mischief, and that's enough of a headache for even a god...


That night, a page came to Kurogane's room bearing a note. The lines in it were simple and unembellished - his presence was requested that evening in one of the library's study halls, alone. It was unsigned, and the handwriting was unfamiliar to Kurogane; by the expedient of questioning the poor page boy, he learned that it had been sent from the suite of rooms belonging to the twins. The note had passed hands since then, so the servant boy could not tell him precisely which of the brothers had written it.

Kurogane couldn't think of any reason for either of the hrimthurs twins to call him out, at this hour, to a part of the castle that was bound to be deserted. The whole set-up made him wildly suspicious - not of any threat to his life or health, of course, but he wouldn't put it past either of them to make him the butt of some prank. It would be damn shortsighted of him not to expect just such a thing, in fact.

Still, if this was the lead-up to a practical joke, there was nothing to be gained by ducking the summons. Kurogane knew perfectly well that the twins' dubious sense of humor could not be avoided in such a manner - if anything, doing so was only likely to provoke their spite, and whatever prank came after it would be that much the worse. No, it was best just to go and get it over with.

The library wing was dim and hushed at this hour; not completely deserted, for a few late-night librarians and other devoted researchers still perused the shelves. But the side-chambers which branched off from the library were deserted, their lights quenched and doors barred. Kurogane avoided the librarians and their inevitable questions and let himself into the designated study-hall quietly; as the King's son, he damn well had the right to go where he pleased in his own castle without needing a bevy of servants or bodyguards to chaperone him.

As soon as he entered, letting the heavy gold-chased wooden doors fall to behind him, he saw faint light ahead of him. It shifted in response to the echoes, casting tenebrous shadows against the wood-strapped stone walls. "Who's there?" Kurogane called out, bracing himself with a hand against Ginryuu's haft.

"Kuro-punctual! You came," a happy voice floated out of the dimness. The light shifted, and a silhouette came into view against it at the far end of the small hallway. The golden glow resolved itself into a small hand-held lantern, and as his visitor raised it to the level of his head the light shone off of bright-blond hair and gleaming silver eyes. Fai.

"Yeah, I came," Kurogane said, scoffing at Fai's restatement of the obvious. "Though I'm damned if I know why I bothered. At this hour I ought to be asleep."

Fai laughed softly and raised his free hand, and the light of the lantern surged and then split into a half-dozen tiny golden orbs, which scattered and flew to alight on the lamp-sconces lining the walls. The light caught and grew as each lamp lit, bringing illumination to the room, though still only half that of what it would normally be in the day. "Oh, is Kuro-cranky getting old?" Fai sang. "I'm so sorry to have disturbed your rest. How can I possibly make it up to you?"

Kurogane snorted. "You can start by telling me what we're doing down here," he said. If this was the start of some kind of joke, the punchline was eluding him. He didn't think Fai would have called him down here to play any kind of games of court politics or intrigue; the pale frost giant twins had never shown much interest or inclination for such games. But Kurogane wasn't sure what that left.

"Well, what does one normally do in a dimly lit, secluded area like this one?" Fai purred, gliding across the floor towards him. "The possibilities, they boggle the mind. Lovelorn teenagers would sell their own mothers for such a perfect spot to hide away and neck, don't you think, Kuro-teen?"

Kurogane opened his mouth to reply, then left it hanging open as everything clicked into place. Oh. Oh. The late-night summons, the strange venue, Fai's flirty attitude (all right, so that wasn't too different from normal.) He hadn't been called down here for a prank or ann assassination attempt or anything else like that, this was a tryst. And it wasn't that Kurogane hadn't engaged in such things before, but always with women, and never with Fai.

Fai moved in with a swiftness he hadn't prepared for - brought slim white hands up to either side of his neck and held him there, pulling him gently but inexorably downwards. Kurogane took a breath - to speak, to push Fai away, to pull him forward - but opening his mouth had been a tactical mistake; in a moment Fai's lips had sealed over his own, and Fai's tongue quested gently between his parted teeth.

Fai's mouth was cool, tasting of apples and with a faint wild bite like snow in the air. His eyes had fluttered closed and Kurogane kept his own open, studying the way the fine gold lashes lay across his high-boned cheeks. Felt the way his breath rose and fell in his narrow chest, the fluttering of his fingers and palms as they danced across the width of Kurogane's shoulders to grip at the top of his arms.

That one soft moment hung like it could go on for hours - or years - and for one aching moment Kurogane allowed it. With Fai's face so peaceful, his eyes so softly closed, Kurogane could almost imagine...

But it was his lapse of self-control that had led them to this pass in the first place, if Fai had noticed enough of his preoccupation and oblique glances to come to this conclusion. So Kurogane sighed - he felt the warmth of his own breath, gusting reflected back from Fai's cheek - and reached up to push the other man away.

Fai's eyes flew open, and quicksilver glittered in their depths for a moment before they narrowed in cunning. A smirk twisted the edges of those pale lips upwards, crinkling his eyes with laughter. "Oh, come now, Kuro-shy," Fai laughed. "Now I know you're inexperienced, but you're surely not that new to the art of love. Does Teacher Fai need to give you all the extra-special lessons?"

"No," Kurogane said seriously. He kept his hands on Fai's shoulders, to hold him back so that he could not dart in again. "This won't work."

Fai's eyes widened in comic innocence. "Such pessimism from such a brave, fearless warrior!" he squealed. "I can't imagine why would you say such a terrible thing! Is it because we're kin - not technically, of course, as there's no blood between us! - or because you don't know how it's done with two warriors? That's no problem at all, I can assure you; let Mommy take care of everything -"

"Fai," Kurogane said, and fended off a sly hand sneaking towards of the waistband of his trousers. "Look, I don't want to upset you, but this just isn't going to happen?"

Fai paused, and retreated a few inches. "Whyever not?" he said, wariness creeping into his expression and voice.

"Because," Kurogane said, and he had to put force into the next words to keep them from cracking. "I don't love you. I'm sorry if you thought I did, or if I gave you the wrong idea, but - look. I'm in love with Yuui."

"What?" Fai cried out, and he fell back two full paces as he recoiled. Shocked horror washed over his expression, and he staggered as though he had been struck. "What, no! What do you mean? That's impossible!"

Kurogane shrugged, helpless and bereft of words in the face of Fai's exaggerated response. It was too much to hope for that Fai would take it calmly - would anyone really, on being told that your crush loved your sibling instead of you? But to back down, to soften it now, would only draw the pain out further. And so Kurogane repeated in a clear, quiet voice: "I love Yuui. Not you."

Fai began to laugh, a discordant and unsteady sound. "That - that's ridiculous," he said uneasily. "You can't - you can't possibly love him and not me. We have the same body!"

"You may have the same body, but not the same heart," Kurogane corrected him. "I've known you two all my life and I've always known that you're each your own person. You know it perfectly as well, so don't pretend otherwise to me."

"But if you only loved one of us - if you only loved one..." Fai broke off and shook his head, sending wisps of ashen-colored hair flying. "You should love me. You should love me, not him! Why aren't you in love with me?"

Kurogane shrugged again. "Why does the sun rise in the east, and not the west?" he said rhetorically. "You are a true companion, Fai, and I'd stand by you in any ring. I don't make the mistake others do of seeing you for less than you are. But what I feel for you, in my heart, is not love. I don't know why or why not. I just don't."

"But... why him?" Fai's face twisted, taking on an ugly sneer. "Of all the people in Asgard - of all the people in the Nine Realms to choose from, why him? Everyone knows that he's the evil one, wicked and heartless. No one loves him, no one even likes him. No one except me."

A growl rumbled in Kurogane's throat as his temper flared to life. He could understand surprise, even heartbreak at being rejected - but this was just vicious, petty and cruel. "That's not true," he snapped out. "Not even close to it. Maybe you've forgotten because you've been away from him for so long -" that was the most generous he could afford to be, to Yuui's brother - "but I see him every day, so I know. He has a sharp tongue and a brusque manner, it's true - but so is his heart, even if he hides it."

"But he's cruel!" Fai protested. "And bloodthirsty! He likes to fight, he kills for fun -"

"So do I!" Kurogane snarled, and he surged to his feet and turned away, beginning to pace from one side of the low stone room to the other. The restless frustration filled him with the need to move, as though he could physically strike the words from the air somehow. "I am Kurogane Stormcaller, and I wield Ginryuu, the giant's bane. That's no mere fancy title, in case you've forgotten. I love the thrill of battle, the contest of strength and the promise of glory - " he wheeled back to face Fai, his arms sweeping out before him as though describing the arc of his blade. "- But I won't pretend that a part of me doesn't love the taste of hot blood in my mouth or the satisfaction of seeing my enemy fallen before me!"

Fai stood frozen, tense and trapped as though snared on the edge of flight. Kurogane forced himself to take a step back, turn away, tamp down his dangerous aura. "It's not pretty, but it's who I am," he said quietly, "and it's that very same darkness in him that calls to the darkness in me. I love him not in spite of his 'wickedness,' as you call it, but because of it."

Fai was breathing heavily, Kurogane noticed - not with lust but exertion, deep gulps of air as though he'd just run a racecourse. The break in the rhythm when his chest hitched, and he swallowed hard, was loud as a blow in the silent chamber. "You had best leave the lying to the experts, Kurogane," he said in a faint voice.

Kurogane stepped forward, getting right up into Fai's space - Fai backed away, but not fast enough to avoid Kurogane catching his hands on his shoulders and leaning into his face. "I am," he growled. He didn't need Fai's approval to be in love with his brother - not that he planned to wait on it - but he didn't intend to leave any ambiguity in the situation if he could possibly help it. It would be better for all three of them in the long run - Yuui, Fai, and Kurogane - if everything was laid plainly out in the open. "And you'd best not get in the way."

Fai broke the moment, casting his gaze to the side and shuddering - a full-body movement that somehow shook him loose from Kurogane's grip and placed him a stride away, out of reach. "You're a fool, then, Prince of the Aesir," he murmured, "and I just hope we'll both survive for you to regret this."

He took a deep breath and tipped his chin up, his eyes sliding up in his head even as they slipped closed.

The twins greatly disliked having such unguarded moments witnessed by others, so they usually tried to keep them to their private chambers. But Kurogane had known them for years, and so he'd unwittingly been a witness to this process a number of times; it never ceased to be unnerving.

First came the shuttering, a closed and empty look that fell across the twin's face and body as his eyes closed and his expression went blank. Then, for the briefest of moments, a terrifying emptiness in the presence before him - as though the body before him were no more than a lifeless stone. Then - the same process in reverse. The newly wakened twin would shiver all over, as though shaking off a layer of dust or frost. Now the chin went up, and the lids flew wide...

Over silver eyes.

"Fai?" Kurogane blurted out in confusion. The silver-eyed twin looked over at him, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Why, Kuro-tan," he said, giving a surprised laugh. "Whatever are you doing down here at this time of night?"

Kurogane stared at the blond man, his brain feeling like a blade that had stuck in a cleft of its own cutting - no matter how he strained and pulled, he could not seem to make his thoughts move forward. What was going on here? If this was Fai - if this was Fai - then who had Kurogane just been talking to?

"Didn't you ask me to meet you down here?" he said, feeling uncommonly stupid for the question.

Fai tilted his head to the side, bemusement playing over his features. "Why, no! Did you need to talk to me for some reason? Or," he said, and his smile turned sly and knowing, "did you want to talk to Yuui? He's not here right now, I'm afraid - "

"No, I - no," Kurogane said, and cleared his throat gruffly. "It wasn't anything important. I'll - just go back to bed."

"Whatever you say, Kuro-somniac," Fai sing-songed, and he turned towards the dimly-glowing lanterns on the wall. He held up his hand, and the lights turned from yellow to white, then flew to his hand. Kurogane stared, and wondered how he had failed to notice the color of those uncanny lights before. Fai started towards the door, the bright cold light haloing the fringes of his hair as he turned away.

"Oh - I almost forgot," Fai said, turning suddenly back to face Kurogane. "Geo wanted me to warn you, if I saw you, if you didn't hear it from him first - apparently Yuui has been going around pretending to be me again. The silly-billy boy!"

"Again?" Kurogane said numbly. "This is something he's done before?"

"Oh, sure." Fai grinned and rolled his eyes. "We used to pretend to be each other all the time, way back before. It's easier now, I guess, when we only have to change the eyes - but that somehow just takes the fun out of it, don't you think? It's not sporting at all!"

Kurogane was left speechless, but Fai apparently expected no response, for after a moment more he shrugged and turned to go. "Good night, Kuro-turnal!" he sang out from the passageway, before the light disappeared with him.


Brother,

This evening I spoke with Prince Kurogane in the library. It may surprise you but what should be the topic of discussion, but you!

Prince Sparkypants told me that he admires you very much indeed, which should come as no surprise after all the staring! Indeed, I think perhaps everyone in Asgard is aware of the atmosphere that lies thick and heavy between you. You are, dear brother, the last to come to the party!

The Prince confided to me that he would not hesitate to take you as his consort and raise you above all others, but for one or two minor little details - that you might consider becoming just a tiny bit more serious, for example, and perhaps work just a little bit more on your combat skills. But those minor considerations aside, is it not a grand thing to have the love of a Prince?

Can you not see yourself in the years to come, sitting at the prince's right hand and presiding above the court, basking the reflected gleam of their respect and awe? All would love you, for you would bring joy and laughter to the throne of Asgard, the light to Kurogane's darkness, the day to his night, the clear sunny sky to his storm clouds. It is a balance that was written in the heavens, brother, a complement of order and chaos that brings new life to the world. And let's also not forget the benefits of Prince Musclebound himself.

Have you not dreamed of reaching out to that grim face, to smooth away the angry lines at his eyes and cover his frowning lips with your own? To bring a light to those crimson eyes, and a laugh to his throat, as so few have ever done before? Have you not wondered if he would taste, as he smells, like the sky split open? Have you not longed to run your fingers over those long, long limbs, and feel the lightning chained within?

Surely, surely that would be worth holding on for?

v^v

Dear Brother,

What are you going on about? Silly - you know I don't like Kuro-tan that way.

Father's audience will be tomorrow! I'm excited, so many interesting people are coming. Did you hear, the sons of Hreidmar will be in attendance - the brothers of Ótr, that shapeshifter we killed. Remember that time - wasn't it funny? He flopped around like a fish with his brains spilling everywhere!

There's also going to be an also an emissary from Muspelheim. I wonder where they'll put him? If they're not careful he'll set fire to the curtains...


Valaskjalf, the great golden-roofed hall was packed full today. It was the eve of one of the Allfather's open audiences, where anyone from the Nine Realms could demand audience with the King - either to beg a boon, or else claim an injury and demand recompense. Such sessions were infrequent - the last one had been ten years ago, by Kurogane's reckoning - and so people tended to come from far and wide to make their cases.

Bodies of all shapes and sizes filled the hall, muttering and shuffling for better footing and elbowing each other for room. A contingent of slim and fluttering Ljosalfar in one corner gave a wide berth to a lonely and looming storm giant, who had to bend his head carefully so as not to brush the smoke-darkened ceiling. Adding to the crowd, many supplicants came not alone but were accompanied by supporters to argue their case for them (or in many cases, their enemies, to argue against them.) There were also many who came only to watch, on top of those - like Kurogane - whose duties demanded they be here.

At the far end of the hall from the great doors, the air lightened. Most of the hall was dark, lit only from beneath by torches which sent soot up to blacken the heavy oak beams looming overhead and set the pillars to glow, but here above the throne the rafters became more widely spaced, the roof opening up to admit a hazy, filtered light from above. Directly behind the throne stood the great elm tree, its branches spreading to provide the canopy above; drooping curtains of leaves formed the walls on either side, whispering as the shifted with a wild and strange power that gave them the strength beyond that of any stone-walled castle. A spring bubbled from the foot of the throne, flowing cold and swiftly out of the hall; where, Kurogane knew, it would grow to form the river Hvergelmir that fed all the fertile lands of Asgard, and eventually tumbled over the edge of the world to rain on the realms below.

Ashura All-Father himself sat on the great golden throne from which he could see into any corner of his realm. His grand robes swept to either side of the dais, impeccably neat despite the heat of the hall, and a crown of twisted gold sat lightly upon his head. In this guise he had never looked more like the god of wisdom, scholars and poets which made up his gentler aspect; and his abstracted, benevolent look inspired a perhaps-unwarranted confidence in many of those who came to petition him.

Kurogane respected and honored his father, as did all of Asgard; but Kurogane was also wise enough to fear him, as well. King Ashura did not spend all his time on his throne, after all. He was as often in the fields of battle, riding the winds of howling gales down upon the armies and harrying the soldiers on the field, changing his allegiances from one army to another on a whim and laughing as his horse trampled the slain under his hoofs.. He bore an enchanted spear which never missed its mark, but he was just as likely to dismount and tear into foes with his bare hands, as well.

Ashura ruled over madness and chaos as well as order and strength - whether that was the beautiful turmoil of a poet's soul or the furious bedlam of the battlefield. All of his sons had inherited these traits, to a lesser or greater degree. They lined up today at Ashura's right side; sinister Seishirou, genial Fuuma, reserved Kazuhiko with his maimed right hand, and Kurogane himself. They each had their special realms of influence, but the strain of chaos ran true in each of them - Kurogane's domain was given over storms and thunder, the tumult and furor of the wind and water. He understood better than most how vital a healthy dose of unrest was in any given system - it kept things from getting too settled, too stale, brittle and weak with a lack of challenges. Change was good, for stagnation was death.

Perhaps that was why Ashura invited the frost giant twins to these audiences; Fai currently lounged at Ashura's left hand, leaning with one elbow against the arm of the gold-plated throne and careless of such niceties of chairs. Though he was not Ashura's son by blood, no one (dared to) dispute his place on the dais. Fai's suggestions, while always unorthodox, sometimes provided solutions that never would have occurred to the other Aesir. When the jotun Satsuki had come before Ashura, demanding recompense for the death of her father Thjazi, one of her demands had seemed impossible - that they should make her laugh. Satsuki was well-known throughout the realms for being grim and completely devoid of humor, yet it was Fai who had managed to fulfill the task of making her laugh. (Kurogane still wasn't sure exactly how he'd done it, only that it had involved a length of cord, an octopus, and fifteen minutes in a private room with her.)

Kurogane kept a wary eye on him, not sure quite what he expected. They hadn't spoken again since the night in the library - what was Fai thinking? Planning? Did he know about his brother's little trick? Was that even Fai at all, or Yuui in disguise? Yuui hated politicking, Kurogane knew - but then again maybe he'd never known either of the brothers as well as he'd thought.

The day was only half over and Kurogane was already inclined to throw the whole lot of them out on their heels and go back to bed; he couldn't blame his father for doing this only every ten years, if that meant less of this tedious clamor. At least the delay tended to weed out casual gawkers; only those with great determination to their causes would wait this long, come this far and fight their way through the crowd to plead their case.

Ashura called for the next petitioner, and a mismatched pair of men stepped up before the dais. One of the men was tall and rangy, his head nearly brushing against the branches overhead. The other was short and stocky - he was actually not much shorter than the other Aesir, but his immense broadness and the contrast with his companion made him seem stumpy and squat. Despite the difference in height, there was a similarity between their features that made Kurogane sure they were related, and something about those features rang a faint warning in his head. He straightened up, frowning at them, as they made their bows.

"You stand before Hlidskjalf, the throne of the gods," Ashura proclaimed, his voice ringing clear and unwavering to the rafters despite how many times today he'd had to recite this line. "What would you have of them?"

"Justice, my lord king," the shorter of the men said, in a creaky voice that rumbled and buzzed in his stocky frame.

"State your name and your cause," Ashura said, settling back slightly and tilting Gungnir to his hand. His expression and voice remained mild, and Kurogane wondered how anyone could be fooled by it.

"I am Fafnir, and this is my brother Regin," the man explained, indicating his companion. "We are the sons of the dwarf-king Hreidmar, master of the mountain fastness. Alas, there should be three of his sons here today; but our brother Ótr is slain."

At the name Ótr, recognition finally clicked, and Kurogane nearly groaned aloud. He knew this family all too well. Hreidmar was one of Asgard's more obstreperous neighbors; he was a poor host and an unruly neighbor, letting his livestock (and his sons) wander heedlessly over the boundaries of his territory. His was not a large kingdom, but a dangerous one, since Hreidmar was a master of black magics and a crafter of fearsome weapons. Kurogane now recognized the axe Fafnir bore at his side from legends; it was Gram, Sigurd's bane. Forged through sorcery, it was said that the axe was so strong that it could cleave an anvil in twain, and so sharp that it could cut a man's soul from his body so that he fell dead without a mark.

Kurogane eyed the pair of them with increased suspicion, his hand creeping towards Ginryuu's hilt - although surely not even Hreidmar's son would be so brash and foolish as to start a quarrel in King Ashura's own hall?

"Six years ago, my brother was traveling in the mountains near our home," Fafnir continued. "He was engaged in that most peaceful of activities, fishing in the river streams, when he was set upon by a band of Aesir, bound, and murdered - without your command, great king, I am most sure."

That was one way to tell the story, Kurogane reflected sourly. He had been part of the band that had been dispatched, six years ago, to see to the murderous giant that was wreaking havoc on the fishermen and farmers of the northern mountains. Their enemy had proven himself a shapeshifter, and so for days confounded their attempts to either capture him or drive him away by taking on one fearsome form after another.

In the end it had been the twins who had finally defeated him; Fai had gone to him bare of sword and shield and persuaded the giant to sit with him by the side of the river, drink mead, and talk. Gradually Fai had persuaded Ótr to take the form of an otter, a river dog, in order to show off his skills at swimming.

The moment he had done so, Fai quickly whipped out a fishing net he had hidden under his clothes, and cast it about the shapeshifted body, dragging him from the river to the shore. There, Yuui had bashed his head open with a riverbank stone, accomplishing in one blow what all of the warriors of Asgard could not.

"My brother was tricked and deceived to his most heinous murder," the dwarf Fafnir was saying. "His murderer called him under a false flag of truce, which he then betrayed. On behalf of our father, we come to demand justice for my brother's death - either a suitable wergild paid, or his murderer's head returned to us."

The problem was, no matter how obnoxious Ótr had been making himself, he was still the son of a king - and the legendary black magics of dwarf-king Hreidmar could make trouble indeed for Ashura. Kurogane shot a quick look across the throne to see what Yuui was making of this - but the frost giant just stood there with a pleasantly blank expression, apparently finding nothing about this audience the slightest bit out of the usual.

"Very well," King Ashura replied. "Let it not be seen in all the Nine Realms that Asgard is unjust, or blind to a father's grief. We will offer suitable repayment for your brother's death."

Heads nodded all around the chamber, and there were a few awed or approving murmurs. The wergild for a death varied in amount depending on the station of the slain; for a peasant or thrall, a few coppers; for a freedman, a gold coin; for a noble or a man of station, the weight of the fallen man's head in gold. For the son of a neighboring king, the ransom would be weighty indeed, and it was no small concession for Ashura to agree to it.

"The barren void in our house, at our table, in my brother's saddle cannot be easily filled," Fafnir said warningly. "To recompense such a tragedy, my father asks no less than my brother's own weight in treasure."

Gasps at his audacity filled the hall, yet Ashura himself did not blink an eye. "Very well," he stated. He stood, and slammed the butt of Gungnir firmly against the dais. "Bring to our scribes the stones that approximate your brother's weight, and we will see the balance equaled in gold -"

"Oh, not gold," Fafnir interrupted.

Now Ashura did hesitate, the merest shiver of an eyelid reflecting the ripple of confusion that ran along the room. "Not gold?" the King repeated, his voice taken slightly aback.

"Of course." Smirking, Fafnir glanced around the room. "That the halls of Asgard drip with gold is well known. The dwarven kings tell legends of the enchanted golden ring Draupnir, which multiplies itself eightfold every fortnight. After so many centuries of this, it is no wonder that gold overflows from Asgard as abundantly as water flows from this spring.

"I have seen as I walked through your kingdom the buildings with their walls sheathed in it, the statues and columns wrought of gold, used in even the common man's tableware. So much gold have you, Princes of Air, that it is worth less even than the commonest brass. You spend it so freely, that the value of all the gold in all the lands is as nothing to it. How could we take as payment a metal so cheap and tarnished?"

The confused mutter among the crowd grew louder, with not a few people wondering if the magician's son was perhaps deranged. Kurogane could only echo the confusion. Gold was gold. Of course it had great worth and value; it was gold. Why would it be worth less just because they had a lot of it?

Fafnir spread his hand over his heart and gave a little bow towards the throne, and the mockery in it was plain to see. "So do not offer me gold, All-Father; my father demands treasure. Grant us the full measure of our brother's death, not in gold, but in silver." His eyes wandered across the room to light on Fai, and a cruel and cunning smile twisted his lips.

Kurogane's mouth fell open in dismay. Silver was a rare commodity in Asgard; indeed, what need had they of such a lesser, easily tarnished metal when all they needed could be polished of gold instead? Even if they gathered up all the silver from every corner of Asgard, it was unlikely that they could come close to filling Fafnir's ransom request.

And it was certain that he knew it. The All-Father had already agreed to pay Ótr's death-ransom; if he reneged on his debt now, his name would be sullied among all the Realms.

The mutter among the crowd was growing into a roar like the sound of the surf, and Ashura cut it off with a sweep of his arm and the ringing crash of Gungnir against the stone. "Enough!" he called out in a terrible voice. "The house of Ashura pays its debts, dwarf. Give us a month to gather a tribute, and you will have your silver."

The restless tumult settled to a murmur, and Fafnir bowed before the All-Father's throne, a satisfied smile fixed on his face.

But Kurogane's unease was not so easily settled. Even a month might not be enough time to gather all that was required, not even if they were forced to stoop to asking their neighbors for help. With Hreidmar on their flank, trade caravans were slow and difficult, especially bearing such a weight of metal.

Kurogane did not doubt that this delay was intended. Neither Hreidmar nor his sons could have any particular lust for silver; they had mines of it in their own country, if that was what was wanted. He suspected rather that it was a delaying tactic, a way to turn up the pressure on Ashura while concealing his real intention.

For when anyone spoke of silver in the halls of Asgard - quick and darting, pale and shining, mercury-shifting silver - there was usually only one thing they truly meant:

Fai.


~to be continued...