So I need everyone to keep in mind that I did my best researching each of the Nine Realms, and all the contradictory information that's out there about them. From that, I did the best I could to give life to each of these places. I hope you enjoy them.
Traveling between realms without the aid of the Bifrost wasn't something that everyone could do. Not even every mage could do it. However, it was a skill that Tony had perfected long before he'd ever left Asgard, and it was one that he hadn't forgotten during his time on earth.
It seemed like he had forgotten just how amazing it felt, though.
That amazing sensation of his seidr all around him, the feel of slipping between the branches of Yggdrasil, the rush of the travel – and the beauty of the places he could travel to.
Tony had always found Niðavellir to be a beautiful place. He knew plenty didn't agree with him – they saw only the mountains, high and sharp and dangerous, and were rightly cowed by them. But Tony had always seen more.
The realm wasn't all mountain ranges. Niðavellir was a rounded realm, just like Earth, though quite a bit smaller. Closer in size to Earth's moon, actually. But, while it was primarily made up of mountains, there were beautiful forests and lakes, too, where a person could wander for days. The mountains themselves formed a perfect circle, making a protected canyon inside that no outside was allowed into. In there was the dwarven village Hamarrknǫttr. There was where they farmed, where some of them lived outside the mountain, where they practiced and played and lived. And, it was said that this was where their greatest magic was protected. The mountains around them were there to keep outsiders from getting in.
Dwarves had something similar to the four cardinal directions that earth had – North, South, East, and West – only theirs were more magical by nature. In the dwarven language, they were Duc, Loc, Nec, and Roc, and they marked the four points of the strongest magic on Niðavellir.
At each of those points, there was a stronghold set up in the mountains. Each one of those strongholds was defended by a dwarven clan who'd proved themselves strong in magic, able to harness the magic at that point that allowed them to keep the world's magic balanced, and keep the protection in their mountain ring and over the valley inside. The last time Tony had been here, as Einn, he had stayed with Brynjar, of the Runerok Clan, and they'd been in charge defending Nec. The Shadowfinger Clan had held Roc, the Burningeye Clan had held Loc, and the Stonefist Clan – King Eitri's clan – had held Duc.
Duc was their true North, where their castle sat. The first defense against the world, and the largest they had. It was where the King resided and was always controlled by the King's clan. In front of it were the forests of Logabjǫð – the burning fields. The trees were burnt orange and red that made them look like they were on fire when the sun shone overhead. Tony had always loved them, and he'd looked forward to his walk through them to get to the mountains and the Castle.
Of course, Tony got just a brief moment to admire the landscape before he realized that his aim might not have been all that perfect.
He'd landed in the forests – that wasn't wrong. He just hadn't landed alone.
Tony blinked a few times in surprise as if that might clear his vision somehow. When it didn't, he found himself gaping at the group of fucking trolls that were standing around him. Rock Trolls. They were all in the seven-foot range, which put them a lot above Tony, and they were dressed for war.
"Oh," The laugh Tony let out was low and just a bit nervous. "Hey there, fellas. I swear, this isn't what it looks like." This was not good. This was so not good. In a quick scan, Tony counted at least twelve different trolls. A hunting party. What the hell was a hunting party of trolls doing so close to the castle? "Would you believe me if I said this was just a giant accident?" Tony tried out his best, most charming smile, and he kept his hands out in a gesture of peace. "It's been a long time since I've Sky Walked and, well, I think either my aim was off, or, well, I may have forgotten to take a good look at where I was landing before I just let myself land here. I really should work on that, actually. That could be a huge problem coming up soon. Not right now, though! Right now, I'd really like to just be on my way to that great city over there. Think there's a chance we might come to some sort of an arrangement? One that doesn't involve one of us bleeding or dying?"
One of the nearby trolls gripped tightly to his club and glared down at Tony. "Elf."
The disgust in that single word was enough to tell Tony that, yeah, diplomacy wasn't going to happen here. "Ah, well, can't say I didn't try, right?" His grin shifted into something a whole lot more dangerous. While Tony had never carried the bloodlust of other Asgardians or felt Thor's need to destroy everything in sight, he'd taken out plenty of trolls in his time. They were an intelligent species, capable of quite a bit, but they were often power-hungry, and they had absolutely no respect for life outside of their own. They, for the most part, believed that their race was supreme, and they wanted the magic that others possessed for their own. They weren't afraid to take it by force, either.
No, Tony wasn't going to lose sleep over what was about to happen. In fact, he found it surprisingly easy to slip into the persona of Einn, which wasn't too different than Tony Stark, at least in personality. Both had the same, 'kiss my ass' grin when faced with trouble like he was right now. They also both had the tendency to run off at the mouth at all the wrong times. "What do you say we have ourselves a little fun, boys, eh? I mean, I'm no Ron Weasley, but I'm sure I can take down a few of you."
One of the trolls roared, loud and clear, and that was it, there was no more waiting. The magic that Tony had been gathering in his palms went flying as he thrust his hands out. Two of the trolls were blasted backward to crash through the trees.
It'd been way too long since Tony had fought without his suit. Even longer since he'd been in a fight where he didn't have to hold back his natural strength, or his magic. Letting go of that iron control that he kept over himself was both strange and fantastic.
A backhanded blow sent Tony soaring back to crash through one tree and land against another. He groaned as he shoved himself up to his feet; yeah, he'd feel that one for a little while. It wasn't enough to stop him, though. "So, you guys wanna play like that, do you?" His body shifted into a defensive crouch at the same time that he brought his hands together and called up his seidr. It began to glow as the trolls advanced on him. Tony grinned wildly at them and slowly began to draw his hands apart. Golden light crackled between his palms and was gradually forced into shape as Tony brought his hands apart. When he let go, he had a long, golden staff of pure seidr, which stood a lot better chance of damaging a rock troll than his swords would.
Tony caught the staff in one hand and twirled it, settling it firmly into his grip. "Okay, boys. Now the party's really getting started."
He leapt straight towards them in a move none of the trolls seemed to expect. Tony used the staff to brace with and spun himself around it, kicking up off his feet and holding on to the staff tight as he twisted and planted his feet against the chest of one troll, knocking it back and taking another one down with it. As soon as Tony landed, he had the staff up again and was swinging it around to jam it straight into the chest of another troll.
Tony didn't give himself time to pause or think. Fighting against this many trolls, alone? No easy task. There was no way he was going to be able to take them all down without risking some pretty severe injuries for himself – not without breaking and using the kind of magic that would call the attention of Heimdall or the Allfather. What Tony needed to do was take down as many as he could, distract the others, and make a break for it.
That was his plan, at least. But Tony's luck seemed to have turned itself around. Just as he felled the third troll, bringing their numbers down to nine, the crash of metal and loud war cries filled the air. Tony's grin grew. Reinforcements have arrived. Oh, thank the fucking Norns!
Dwarves burst into the area, seemingly coming up from the very ground itself - a distinct possibility. There was no telling how many underground tunnels they had around here. They came pouring up from the ground with axes and hammers and swords in hand, and they didn't hesitate to attack the trolls.
Tony couldn't pay them any more focus as he was attacked once more. He twisted his staff to crash against the arm that was coming down on him, then turned it again to send a weighty blow against the troll's head. It wasn't enough to take it down, but the axe blow that severed its head was. The troll fell to the ground, and Tony found himself looking down into familiar silver eyes. A dwarf stood there, one hand firm on his battle axe, blood already staining the reddish-blond hair of his beard. "Why do I always find you in some sort of trouble, boy?" Brynjar demanded.
Amusement crinkled Tony's eyes and he couldn't help but laugh. The last time he'd come here, as Einn, he'd met Brynjar during a fight inside the castle against a few dwarves who'd thought they could take a weak little elf with a smart mouth. Brynjar had saved him, and then taken him under his wing and helped him work to get the chip off his shoulder. "It's good to see you too, old man!"
Another troll came up to them, and the two twisted at the same time, Tony's staff going for a blow to the throat, while Brynjar's axe smashed tip first into the troll's chest.
The last few trolls were being handled by the remaining dwarves. It left Tony free to turn and properly greet Brynjar. Despite the fact that it'd been over a hundred years since the two had last seen one another - closer to a hundred and fifty, give or take some - the two smiled at each other like the old friends they were. Tony planted one end of the staff in the ground and held it with his left hand while he extended his right. Brynjar grasped his forearm in the greeting of warriors everywhere and grinned up at him. "Well met again, Einn. Somehow, I'm not really surprised to find you out here in the midst of chaos, grinning at me like that."
Laughing, Tony drew his hand back. "You know me. Can't resist a little fun."
"Fun." Brynjar scoffed and shook his head. His eyes were sharp as they ran over Tony and took in the dirt and bit of blood that showed on him. He gave another shake of his head. "Come on, let's get you inside and looked at. Hopefully, you didn't rattle that fool head of yours any worse than it already was."
"Aw, Bryn! You say the sweetest things."
Tony laughed again at the scowl that got him. He banished his staff and fell into step at Brynjar's side and let the dwarf lead him to one of the many hidden tunnels under a nearby outcropping of rocks.
Only when they were inside and away from the forests did Tony finally speak the question on his mind. "Since when are Rock Trolls so brave as to come this close to the Castle?" The last that Tony had known, Dwarves and Trolls were still enemies, but no Troll had dared come this close to the city.
Brynjar conjured up a globe of glowing blue light to guide their way through the dark tunnel. In its light, he looked suddenly older. Even with his helm on it was easy to see the furrow building in his brow. "Where've you been hiding at, boy? With the Bifrost still under repair, nowhere's safe right now. What fear do our enemies have without the might of Asgard to back its allies?"
The words were enough to have Tony stumbling. Just barely did he manage to catch himself before he fell. The Bifrost was under repair? What the hell had happened that could damage that? He'd known something was going on since Thor had used the power of the Tesseract to get back home, but with everything else going on Tony had pushed that thought to the back of his mind and forgotten about it. Now, though...
His surprise didn't go unnoticed. When Tony recovered himself, he found that Brynjar was sneaking looks up at him as they walked. Tony tried to push his shock down enough to focus; this changed things, and he needed to adjust his plans accordingly. "It seems we have much to talk about," he finally said.
"Hm." Brynjar gave him one last, heavy look. "It does. For now, let's get you in an cleaned up. Then you can tell me what's going on."
Cleaning up was probably a good idea. As for telling Brynjar what was going on, well, "I wish this were a social visit, Bryn, but I need to beg an audience with the King if he'll see me."
This time it was Brynjar who almost stumbled. He shot a quick look behind them to make sure that no other dwarves were close enough to hear them. Then his eyes slanted back to Tony. The small shake of his head was enough to tell Tony that now wasn't the time to speak. Tony gave a slight nod in return. He knew what he was asking - going in to see the King wasn't something easily done, especially for someone who wasn't a dwarf. Tony might be allowed to visit, and as Einn he'd only been in the presence of the King once, just to stand at Brynjar's side as Brynjar requested permission to apprentice Einn, but he wasn't a dwarf. He couldn't simply speak to the King. Not without giving away secrets that he'd been keeping for a long time. Not without good reason.
Unfortunately, Tony had a reason, but by no means was anything about it good.
The tunnels eventually led them up and through another passageway before bringing them inside the mountains themselves. Tony stepped through the door and found himself standing in the halls of Nec.
The beauty around him hadn't changed at all.
Tony had grown up calling the great golden halls of Asgard's palace his home, yet he'd always privately enjoyed the Halls of Niðavellir or Alfheim more. In Alfheim, their castle looked as if it'd been grown from the earth around, trees shaped to make their home without ever uprooting them from the ground. While in Niðavellir, their homes, their great halls, were carved from the mountain itself. Great, open rooms, with high ceilings and grand pillars and doorways, and paths set into the stone walls that traveled up or down. Pillars were carved into to create rooms, homes, without breaking them away from the mountain itself, leaving them free to still act as support and keep it from caving in on them all.
Every bit of these halls had been lovingly carved and hollowed out by dwarven hands and tools, shaped to fit them while still leaving the greatness of the mountain clear for all to see.
The halls of Nec took up four floors. At the top stood the sorcerers, placed so to monitor the mountain. The next two levels were private rooms, libraries, a kitchen, and a Meeting Hall for Council matters. While the King ruled the dwarves, each clan had a Council member. That Council member was responsible for watching over their clan, fixing minor problems, and taking the greater ones to the King. The Council also sat in with the King on matters of war and other big things, to provide him with advice if needed.
The very bottom floor held the entrances to the Great Forge, as well as all the smaller smithies.
It was mostly the same set-up for the other three posts. It was between them that the rest of the dwarves made their homes. Small townships, places where people lived and laughed and loved. But at each major post was the protection of their realm - their great cities.
Tony stepped into the Halls of Nec and took in the familiar feel of it all. He stared up at the high stone ceilings and let his gaze run over it all, admiring the carvings that the dwarves put into everything. Their skill with stone was unrivaled.
Brynjar led Tony exactly where he'd expected him to; through a set of great doors as big as any seen on Asgard, and downwards towards the bottom floor. Tony had once, while deep in his cups, made a joking comment about the short dwarves – who came only to his chest even at his natural, short height – overcompensating by making everything around them so large. He'd been Einn at the time, and stupid enough to actually dare say something like that. The fight that resulted had ended with quite a few bruises and an ache in his shoulder that had taken almost three weeks to heal, even with his magic to help him along.
The long staircase took them down, down, until finally, it opened up into a massive cavern. Here there wasn't just beauty - there was life.
The cavern was massive, lit by fires placed at various points in the walls, and the fires that rose up from down below. It was divided almost perfectly in two by the flow of water far, far down below. Nec was known for the river that ran through its middle, feeding into the valley inside and the lake that sat at its center. The smithies and homes here in Nec had been crafted into either side of this river, far up above it, with paths that crossed back and forth between the two. The entrance to the Great Forge was at the opposite end of the cavern from Tony and Brynjar, with the four smithies between them. Two on each side, set on two levels. Each level on each side carried a smithy on one end and their home on the other.
Torches marked the paths, but the cavern was lit by something far greater. Veins of glowing light bled through the walls where the dwarves had uncovered some of the great crystals, some of which Tony didn't even know the names for, which had then had been carefully carved around to give them a sort of fluid shape. The crystals were imbued with magic that kept them glowing brightly.
The whole place was hot, almost sweltering, and immediately Tony felt himself begin to sweat. There was the sound of running feet and shouting voices, the crash of metal on metal, and the roar of the forges. People and carts were running here and there from building to building, the pathways a constant bustle. Some were working, some were shopping. Others were soldiers simply drinking and chatting. Tony's grin grew as he followed Brynjar through it all, and he felt some of the tension fall off of him just being here. He loved it here. Here, his engineering heart was able to soar free.
Brynjar took him down over one of the paths that crossed to the other side, exchanging greetings with others as he went. Some of them recognized Tony, and they called out a cheerful "Welcome back, Einn!" as they went. Tony beamed at them and raised his own hand to wave back.
Eventually, they went up another path, this one taking them to the top level of the cavern. There, they made their way further down to the far end where Brynjar's smithy was tucked into the corner. It was larger than the others due to his status here. By comparison, his home was much smaller, yet it suited his needs. He'd told Tony once that two bedrooms were all he needed. Any apprentice of his slept at the smithy in the chamber built there. His home was for him and for any guest he might entertain.
Tony had stayed here in Brynjar's guestroom the last time he was here. Walking through the front door, it was like stepping into the past. Not a thing had changed. Brynjar still had the same ugly blue couch that he'd had last time, and the gold, green, and blue chair that Tony had made himself. The couch was the only thing separating the rooms - the kitchen and dining room were open to the rest of the place. The kitchen itself wasn't much, but it was enough for one man who cooked only for himself and his apprentices, and who often preferred to make them go get him food from the market anyways. Tony had done that duty often enough when he'd apprenticed.
To the right were two doors, the only doors in here, and they led to the two bedrooms. There was no bathroom or bathing chamber. Tony's time on earth had spoiled him towards that. Even on Asgard, he'd had his own bathing chamber in his rooms. But the dwarves were all about a quick wash in a water bucket for the day, and a bath every few days in the communal baths amongst the housing halls.
"Get in here," Brynjar growled at him, startling Tony out of his thoughts.
Tony hadn't realized he was just standing there in the door, staring. He gave Brynjar a sheepish grin and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
Brynjar was already stripping out of his helm and armor. His axe had been set in a stand in the corner of the room, and the helm followed after it, followed by the rest of his armor. Only when he was stripped down to breeches, boots, and vest did he turn around again.
Unlike most other dwarves, Brynjar's head was shaved, and his beard only came to his chest. He had it done in thick braids that were marked with heavy, thick beads made of Uru, a sign of his status as a Master Smith, as well as that of a Master Mage, a rare combination. Sometimes, though, Tony couldn't help but think the dwarf's talent lay more in his ability to glare at anyone and make them feel like a small child barely out of their first century. "You get knocked on the head or something, boy? Get in here and get those weapons off while you're in my house. An either clean up them clothes or get 'em off, too. I aint having you covering my house with blood, or you'll be cleaning it all later."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Tony's grumbles held no real heat to them. He pulled off his cloak and, when Brynjar held his hands out, passed it over, as well as his belt. After a moment's deliberation, he added his vest and tunic, too, leaving him in just boots and breeches. It was hot enough for that, and his spells were strong enough to keep his arc reactor hidden from even Brynjar. "Good to see some things haven't changed around here. You're still as ornery as ever."
Brynjar snorted as he went to go dump Tony's stuff in the spare room. When he came back out, he had a bag in his hand, which he used to gesture towards the table. "An you're as stupid as ever. Sit your ass down and let me get a proper look at you."
Smirking, Tony made his way over to the table. "Gee, Bryn, if you wanted me naked, all you had to do was - hey!" Tony was cut off by his own yelp when Brynjar hit the back of his knee as he got close, then caught his arm and used the fall to plop him down in the chair. Tony caught himself against the table and glared up at his friend. "What the hell, Bryn?"
The old bastard just grinned at him. "You were taking too long."
It took everything Tony had not to roll his eyes. Yeah, he'd called it right. Some things never did change. Brynjar was just as ornery as he'd always been and completely unafraid to call Tony on his shit. It was better to just go along with him than to bother trying to argue with him. That was why Tony simply turned himself so that he could rest his arms on the table and leave his back open for Brynjar to look at. It was the place with the most damage right now. Tony knew his ribs were a bit bruised, but that'd take only a few hours to heal. His back, however, was deeply bruised, and he was pretty sure one of the trolls might've split skin a bit when they struck once.
Judging by the sound Brynjar made, Tony was pretty sure his guess was right.
The bag Brynjar had brought out with him was set down on the table near Tony's arms and opened up for the dwarf to rifle through. A minute later he pulled something out and moved behind Tony's back. "This is gonna sting."
Tony didn't make a sound as the salve was applied to his back. He just bowed his head and stayed still as Brynjar spread it on there for him. After a moment, he offered a low "Thanks, Bryn."
He got a grunt in answer. A second later, more salve was gathered and applied a little higher on his back. "You're lucky your back's not broken. As it is, I'm pretty sure you got a few broken ribs, an that bruise down on your hip looks pretty nasty."
"They sent me through a few trees."
Tony didn't have to look to know that Brynjar was shaking his head at him. "You got more tolerance for pain than any idiot I've ever met. Plenty'a dwarves would'a been carried back by their friends after something like that. How in Grogr's Caverns you managed to keep on walking is a mystery."
"I'm just that good," Tony said cheekily.
He was rewarded with a firm jab against his hip that had him snapping his jaws shut.
It took about fifteen minutes for Brynjar to finish up with him. Tony was grateful for that time. The quiet allowed him to sit and think and try to process the new information that he'd gained. Factoring in the broken Bifrost and what it meant for the other realms was going to take some readjusting of his plans. There was a chance that the dwarves weren't going to be the only ones in their potential allies that would be fighting a threat at their own front door. The trolls... they wouldn't take too much to deal with. He had faith the dwarves would be able to defeat them, and if not, Tony knew he could call on Loki at least to come and help him protect Niðavellir. Probably the other Avengers, too.
He needed to gather information about the other realms and find out what things were like for them. Unfortunately, the only real way to do that would be to go from realm to realm and see what he could see.
That, Tony put aside for later. For now, he needed to focus on handling Niðavellir. The rest would come when he could.
When he cleared his head and once more focused around him, it was to find that Brynjar was done with him and had put all his supplies away. The older dwarf was leaning against the table with his massive arms folded over his chest - arms that, it should be pointed out, were likely twice, if not three times the size of Tony's own - and those sharp silver eyes were staring right at Tony's face. Brynjar was observing him carefully and reading what he could from Tony's face. Whatever he saw there had him worried. It showed in the furrow in his brow and the downward tilt of his lips. "It's something serious that brought you to our doors this time, aint it?"
"Yeah." No point in lying about it. He was here for a purpose, and there was no reason for him to hide it.
"You're safe?"
The fact that Brynjar asked that - before asking about anything else - warmed Tony like nothing else. His expression softened, and he smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm safe." Then, because he wasn't going to lie, he tacked on "For now. Pretty soon, we're all gonna be in danger. A whole lot more than a group of trolls banging on your doors." As much as Tony wanted nothing more than to stay here with Brynjar and talk and relax, just a little bit, there was a reason that Tony was here. One that was more important than his own personal wants. "I need to speak with the Council. I know I can't get in to see the King without their permission," that much, he remembered, "and I need to seek an audience with him, quickly. This is something he's going to want to hear."
It spoke of the trust between them that Brynjar didn't doubt Tony in the least bit. He didn't ask Tony to tell him what was going on or start demanding answers or pointing out just how foolish all this was.
What he did do was stroll over to the front door and open it wide so that he could stick his head out and bellow "Fizik!"
A few minutes later Brynjar was stepping back to allow in a dwarf that was a good few inches shorter than him, making the poor guy short even by dwarf standards, and who was dressed only in breeches, boots, and an apron. He had flaming red hair that had been shaved into one strip down the middle of his head, though that strip was long enough to be put into multiple braids that were held in a bunch by two large metal beads, coming to an end at the small of his back. Like Brynjar, this one's beard only hung to his chest. It was also done up in tiny braids just like the ones on his head, and those were gathered together as well with one large bead that marked him as both Runerok Clan, and as a journeyman, a step above an apprentice. The way he held himself suggested it was something new. Which was likely, because most journeymen take a pilgrimage to either another clan or another realm, to study further before coming back and setting up their own smithy.
"Grab a few runners and go pass along the message that we got an emergency Council meeting here in Nec in two hours," Brynjar said.
The guy - presumably Fizik - gave Brynjar a look of surprise. "Two hours, Uncle?"
Brynjar glared down at him. "Did I stutter? Move!"
It was almost amusing to watch someone else scramble under Brynjar's orders. Tony had definitely done it a time or two himself. Seeing Fizik hurry to race out of there was enough to make Tony's lips twitch.
His humor didn't last when Brynjar turned around to look at him. "All right, Einn. We got two hours till everyone's here. You got one to explain to me what you've gotten yourself into now, an maybe we can help you figure a way on out of it."
He wasn't going to let Tony out of here without Tony saying something. As little as Tony wanted to explain this multiple times, he knew he was going to have to. And maybe, in telling Brynjar, Tony might be able to get some information of his own. "Tell me," Tony said slowly, shifting himself to better face his friend. "What do you know about the Titans?"
No matter how long he'd had to get used to the idea, it never got any easier for Tony to explain this to someone else. It seemed somehow worse this time. Maybe because he didn't have to clarify just how bad it all really was. Brynjar was smart; he knew exactly how dangerous it was that Thanos was coming for them. He knew who Thanos was, and he knew the kind of damage he could cause.
The instant that Brynjar realized what it was that Tony was talking about, and what was coming for them, he was cursing up a blue streak and was heading for the door with only a sharp "Stay here!" to Tony.
What he did while out there, Tony had no idea. Brynjar was gone for twenty minutes at the most. When he came back, the only thing he said was "Get dressed. We're heading to Duc."
"Bryn?" Tony was already moving, calling up his clothes with just a thought, making sure they were clean as he did. His hair had already been re-braided and the blood cleaned off his skin. It'd only barely been enough to keep him occupied while he waited for his friend. Now he was glad he'd taken the time to do it. If they were going to Duc...
Brynjar hung his axe once more around his waist, though he didn't bother with his helm or any other armor. He just pulled on a vest, grabbed a staff, and gestured for Tony to follow after him. He started talking in a low voice as the two hurried out of the house. "Matters like this, it aint just Council business. Even on a rumor, this is the kind of thing we got to take straight to the King."
Straight to... oh, fuck. Tony swallowed down the nervous lump in his throat. He hadn't expected to go in front of King already! He'd figured that he'd have to meet with the Council, push and prod at them, and then he'd have an audience with the King. By that point, he would've already had the Council at his back to help support him and make his words carry more weight with Eitri. Getting dwarves to listen to an outsider wasn't easy. Brynjar was different; he and Tony had enough history and trust between them. There was no reason for Brynjar to doubt Tony. The others, though? They weren't going to want to just take him at his word.
Tony felt like he was panicking internally the whole way to Duc. It didn't give him long to panic; despite the distance between the various strongholds, they had a much more straightforward travel system for emergencies like this. Tony had helped to set it up when he'd been here as Prince Anto. At each stronghold was a special door that had been carefully shaped and prepared with Uru and crystals to help hold the traveling spell that Tony had placed there. The right touch to the crystals, a bit of magic, and the door turned into a gateway with one of the others. Because of that, they were able to travel a distance that would've taken them days, in just a few short minutes.
Any other time and Tony might've appreciated the beauty around him when he and Brynjar arrived in the halls of Duc. Right at that moment, Tony wasn't really in the mood to do it. He was mentally trying to prepare himself for the meeting ahead of him. This wasn't going to be just convincing the Council - this was going to be trying to convince the King at the same time. He was going to have to deal with the protests the Council gave, their arguments and doubts, and find a way to counter them all well enough to make sure that the King didn't take them too seriously. Dammit! I wish Brynjar had talked to me before doing this. I had a plan!
There was no point in freaking out about it now. It was done, and Tony was just going to have to deal with the hand dealt to him.
With a deep breath, somehow Tony managed to push his nerves down, put aside his fears, and draw on the training that had gotten him through countless meetings. It wasn't only his time as Prince Anto but his time as Tony Stark that helped him now. This wasn't just war talks, it was a negotiation, and there was a reason that Tony Stark was a huge name in the business world. What he wanted, he inevitably got. He always found a way.
Tony had been following after Brynjar as he calmed himself. Now, as his attention focused around him again, he saw that they were in a long hallway that he would bet led to the Great Hall. In there, they'd likely head to the meeting hall that Tony had only heard about. But before they did that - Tony reached a hand out and caught hold of Brynjar's arm, stopping him in his tracks.
Ignoring the curious look he got, Tony held still and focused on himself, calling up his seidr. The clothes he wore rippled and shifted into something a whole lot more appropriate for the meeting he was about to have. His breeches were better quality, the leather of his boots clean and comfortable - well worn and yet still quality. The tunic he wore was a deep, dark red, fitted at his waist and loose at his hands like his other, and done up with gold buttons up the front. Again, good quality, though with just enough wear to it that it looked comfortable and older while still looking good. All in all, it presented the image of someone with money and standing, but not too high. Not a commoner, but not a prince. Hopefully, that would help him.
"All right." Tony nodded his head and let go of Brynjar's arm. "Let's do this."
Brynjar gave him a once-over and then nodded. He clapped a hand on Tony's arm. "You'll do fine, boy. I'm not sending you in there alone."
One more deep breath and Tony nodded.
When the two started to move again, Tony loosened his gait and relaxed his posture, slipping more fully into the role of an elf. The image he was about to present to these people was very, very important, and he needed to do it just right, or he could screw them all before this even started.
The hall they were in opened up into a massive room. The ceilings were high enough a giant could've stood there, and the arches that supported most of it were some of the most exquisite that Tony had ever seen. Magic and runes were laid through most of them, and there were more of the crystals showing through the walls here, bathing everything in gold and blue light. Massive pillars helped to support the arches and marked a clear path to the grand stone staircase at the far end, atop which were massive doors that undoubtedly led to the throne room.
At the other end of that path were another set of doors, these ones leading outside. There were guards at each set of doors.
It wasn't to either of those that Tony was led, though. He followed Brynjar about halfway down the path until they suddenly veered to the left, where another set of doors was hidden behind an outcropping of rock.
The Council chambers. Their meeting room.
Any time that Tony had to prepare was done. As soon as he stepped beyond those doors, it was going to be time to get to work. He closed his eyes as he stopped behind Brynjar and waited for his friend to open the doors. You can do this. You've been in worse meetings. You can do this.
The doors scraped over the ground and Tony opened his eyes. There wasn't a single hint of his stress, not a quiver in his step, as he followed his friend inside.
