Anthony Howardson was a genius. That was commonly acknowledged. Of all the weapons on Asgard, his creations were considered not merely the best but works of art. Due to his advancements in the science of war, the edges of his swords never blunted, the metal never rusted, the blades never bent. His shields could take the brunt of any onslaught without shattering, yet they were light enough for a child to lift easily. His spears whistled through the air with such speed that they were nearly invisible, their aim invariably true. Arrows launched from his bows reached their targets with such accuracy that even an archer of modest skill could hit a single cherry still hanging from a tree at the distance of half a mile. Beyond this, the products of his labor were stunningly beautiful, and the detail he lavished on each piece showed both his skill and his pride in his work. Anyone who had the remarkably good fortune to wield a Howardson weapon emblazoned with his maker's mark was assured the best advantage in any battle.
That was the reason Loki was currently standing in Howardson's shop, weighing a particularly sumptuous dagger in his hand, carefully inspecting its balance. Its handle, made of a copper-colored metal unknown on Asgard, was inlaid with onyx. He held it almost with reverence, then in a blink hurled it towards a wooden post. It quivered, its blade impaled into the wood to the depth of a man's hand.
"I have never seen its like before," Loki said, turning to the beaming smith. "This is superb."
"Thank you, Prince Loki," Anthony replied, reveling in the appreciation of his work.
"Superb enough that, on my father's behalf, I would commission you to produce enough of these to outfit each member of the Einherjar," Loki said, pulling the dagger from the post with some difficulty. He examined it by the light of the forge. "It's still perfect. Not the smallest nick. Extraordinary."
"I am very gratified that it pleases you," Anthony said, "and I am honored by your request. I will begin tomorrow morning, giving the royal order top priority over my other commissions."
"Where did you train?" Loki asked.
The man had piqued his curiosity. While it was his reputation that had brought Loki here, he had not be prepared for the man to be not only talented but handsome.
"My father was a weaponsmith, and he taught me since I was five years old. He died when I was still only a youth, though, so I travelled to Vanaheim and Alfheim to study," Anthony said.
"Both?" Loki said, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, it's unusual," Anthony admitted.
"It's unheard of," Loki said, sounding impressed. "Once a craftsman finishes an apprenticeship in Vanaheim, Alfheim will refuse to train him out of spite, and vice versa."
"That is true," Anthony said.
"How did you manage it, then?" Loki asked.
"I apprenticed in Alfheim first. At one point, an ambassador from Vanaheim was visiting and happened to stop in front of my old master's shop. It was past nightfall, and a group of ruffians noticed the richness of his saddle and bridle and attempted to relieve him of the burden of owning them," Anthony said with a grin.
"And you stopped them, earning a recommendation from him to apprentice in Vanaheim," Loki concluded.
Anthony nodded, his grin getting wider.
Loki returned to examining the dagger, then let his eye wander around the interior of the shop, being met with example after example of the fine work that blended the teaching of Asgard, Vanaheim, and Alfheim into stunning and lethal weaponry. An idea struck him, and the more he considered it, the wiser it seemed.
The weaponsmith had wandered back near the ample fireplace in the room that was blazing away in the evening air, polishing the blade of a sword that was so bright it almost hurt to look at it. While the sword was impressive, it wasn't the only thing drawing the prince's attention. The firelight painted Howardson's features to good advantage, making his brown eyes sparkle with intelligence and what Loki hoped was more than a bit of mischief. He was, to his surprise, smitten.
"I have a proposition for you," Loki said, breaking the silence.
"What is that, my prince?"
"I believe an inclusion of magic might be compatible with this design," he said, examining the original dagger and regarding his own reflection in the blade.
"Magic?"
"Indeed," Loki said, putting the dagger down on the table. "I think that, good as this is, I may be able to introduce some small improvement to it."
"What sort of improvement?" Howardson asked, and Loki saw a shadow of suspicion cloud the man's eyes.
It was a reaction that was all too familiar from the other Aesir whenever Loki mentioned magic, but it still stung. Loki felt a moment of anger, and whatever expression came over his face must have made it obvious he was displeased as Howardson took an automatic step backwards. Loki sighed. He really had no desire to use fear as an inspiration with this man. Glancing around the room, he checked that they were alone before deciding to entrust him with the basic idea of the spell. After all, it was the craftsman's creation; why shouldn't he be averse to a change he neither thought of nor understood?
"Onyx can be used in a spell to reveal deceit," Loki said. "These blades could be made to glow red in the hands of anyone who is lying. It might prevent treachery."
"You can do that?" Howardson asked, looking surprised.
"I believe so, yes," Loki said. "I have already done it once or twice on a smaller scale with excellent success. This would be more taxing, but it should be feasible. And, obviously, as the originator of the design, you would have full control of approving or rejecting the result."
"If I find it unsatisfactory, I can simply say so without consequences?" Howardson asked.
"I give you my word," Loki said, and while he was certain that his word wasn't given much weight in some circles, Howardson considered it for a moment, then nodded.
"Agreed," he said.
"Excellent," Loki said. "I would rather keep the details we have been discussing private. Completely private."
Loki gave him a meaningful look.
"If that's what you wish, I can do that," Howardson said.
"Fine, then," Loki said. "I shall return tomorrow."
"I will look forward to it," Howardson said, bowing.
The weaponsmith's features were arranged in an artless smile, one that edged into excitement, probably at the thought of creating something new, but the effect was enough to steal Loki's breath. Yes, all sorts of lovely possibilities were in the offing.
"As will I," Loki said, turning with only a slightly overly-dramatic twirl of his cloak as he opened the door and went off into the early evening starlight, still dazzled by Howardson's smile.