They had done it. Loki didn't know how, and he didn't care. He'd seen marvels forged by the dwarfs and he had known that it was possible. The only thing they'd warned him of was that the one to receive the hair must be the first to wear it. It would take root on the first head it touched.

Now he was in the tunnels.

They had lead him, blindfolded once more, but this time, on the good-will of their chief, with bound hands before him. Loki supposed that that was a good thing, if he tripped on the blasted staircase, he'd have a prayer at catching himself.

Now he was unbound, and his vision was coming back to him. They'd released him while still underground, given him a series of directions, thrust the hair at him, and left him to find his way.

Needless to say, he didn't really remember most of the directions.

He'd been trying to repeat them to himself, but he knew he should have hit the air by now, and he hadn't, so he must have gone astray somewhere. There was no real way to retrace his steps, and no street-marker to let him know once he had, all the tunnels looked alike. The best road out was forward, so, forward he went. Eventually he would come to something.

Then he did.

"Odinson,"

The voice was familiar, and it wasn't friendly. Loki could just make him out in the gloom.

"Hello Brokk," he was in far too fine of spirits to revive old quarrels now, and the words came out almost a sing-song.

"Good eyes, over-worlder," the dwarf muttered, "What brings you here?"

"The Sons of Ivaldi have made me a marvel and I had come to claim it of them."

"A little far out of your way, aren't you?"

"I was enjoying the fine weather and the chance to stretch my legs," just because he didn't feel like quarreling didn't mean he wanted to ask Brokk, of all people, for assistance, "Since when did a little exercise hurt a man?"

"Since when did the Sons of Ivaldi craft marvels fit for Odin's house?"

"Oh, but they've revived their old talents, Brokk. Such things I've seen!"

"Of the Sons of Ivaldi?" the dwarf laughed scornfully.

"I bet my head the marvel I have now is more wondrous than any you or your brother could craft."

"Do you?" Brokk laughed again, "I'll take that bet. Maybe this time we'll actually get rid of you. Come then. Am I allowed to see it?"

Loki smirked, "No."

Brokk shrugged carelessly, "Have it as you will. But come. My brother and I will have your challenge met by nightfall."

Loki followed him. He hadn't intended to be further detained, but what could he stand to lose? Soon they came to the dwarf's apartments. Brokk poured Loki a drink and had him sit down with instructions to 'Wait there'. Then he vanished to seek after his brother.

~.~

"Sindri," Brokk came around the door-frame and into the forge. Sindri looked up from his work, pushing back the eye-shield and wiping the sweat off his face.

Brokk stopped before him. "I have made a wager of my head with the son of Odin on your skill."

"Brother," Sindri laid his tools aside wearily, "Again? Are you daft? Don't you remember the last time?"

"Your powers have only grown, my brother," Brokk countered, "Am I wrong to put my faith in your skill?"

"No," Sindri sighed, "But I wish you'd make more prudent wagers. Gold is not something we currently have in abundance, and you know how much it takes to ransom a head."

Brokk didn't have time for this, "I also know how much it takes to win a wager. Will you aid me, or am I to craft this marvel myself? I have only until nightfall."

"You know I'm the better smith," Sindri rose, stretched, "You work the bellows. Did he have the grace to show you what you're up against?"

"What do you expect?"

"Brokk, you make friends everywhere you go. Work the bellows."

~.~

Loki was thoroughly bored by the time Brokk and Sindri came out from their hole. He had long-since finished his drink, and was now wandering about the room, peering at things and tracing the carvings in the walls, trying to decipher the stories. He remembered Sif finding the entrance to the passage all those months ago and – sick with himself – he drew his hand from the wall. He would fix this.

Brokk was muttering under his breath, wiping blood out of his eye.

Loki turned and donned a toothy smile, "Why Brokk, whatever have you done?"

Sindri followed him, wiping his hands on a dirty cloth, "A fly got him as he worked the bellows."

Brokk muttered some choice words about the 'little beast'.

Loki and Sindri shared a look, "If we're lucky," Sindri said, "He'll be over it by the next moon," then to Brokk, "You have it, then?"

Not turning round, Brokk waved his hand.

"So be it," Sindri said, "Good speed."

Loki followed Brokk out into the main tunnels again, winding and twisting their way toward the surface. Neither one spoke. When they broke out into the air, it was just past sunset.

"Well, our timing at least is good,"

Brokk grunted and they headed out across the barren stones.