Prologue:
"They have returned sire" informed the dwarf to the man sitting on the chair. The man or as they referred to him 'the elder' was a simple dwarf but one whose wisdom lay beyond the measures of time. "These adamant Asgardians! just tell them to return" he whispered in a commanding voice.
As the informer was about to relay the message the elder stopped him. "Wait! who is that dwarf with them? Let them in." he said and a faint smile glowed on his face.
1.
It was a normal day in King’s Landing. Flea Bottom witnessed misery as the royalty rested in their lavishly humble abodes. It had been a decade since Bran the broken had been crowned the Protector of the Realm and under his governance things had changed, at least for the initial days. Now, however, things had come back to normal, governance had become much like its ruler broken.
Losing all hope from his earthly counterparts Tyrion Lannister had resorted to his modest quarters prioritizing the fulfillment of his carnal desires and the pleasures of wine above everything and everyone. As he saw the night sky decorated by the cornucopia of stars, each one with its own story, he could not help but notice a shooting star. It reminded him of the old days, of Jaime and of Bronn. The prior's demise and the latter’s departure had left him reclusive. Most of his time went by the solitary confines of his chambers fulfilling his earthly desires. He was walking along one of the hallways of the citadel as he felt a compelling need to drown in the pleasures of more wine. His mind struggled to choose between the latest imports of Essos and Winterfell and so, he decided to ponder about it over his regular gallon of wine.
Sensing someone's gaze he turned around and saw a set of green eyes, the urge for mischief clearly visible in them. The man’s sleek frame and clean-shaven face sported a cunning smile that had the uncanny ability to make anyone uncomfortable. A second later he saw nothing but darkness and a sudden pain throbbing at the back of his head.
2.
“What kind of blasphemy is this?” Tyrion growled as he looked at his captors. They were inside his lavish quarters now. The green-eyed seemingly cunning man and the broad-shoulder muscular man with a hammer and blonde hair looked at him. He would have tried to break free from his bonds but he knew better. “I would appreciate knowing the reason for this hospitality. If it is money you seek, I have plenty, I am a Lannister goddammit!”.
"It is you we seek little man," said Thor gently. A certain nod towards Loki made it clear that Tyrion did not require to be bound.
As Loki freed Tyrion from his bonds the latter spoke, his words resonating a calm demeanor "If it is me who you seek, I am here. Now, if you impudent clowns could be so kind as to introduce yourselves we could come to an arrangement."
Not one to remain silent for long Loki claimed with a smirk "Well, it would be mind-boggling to introduce my brother owing to his ... overall lack of flair, however, I would be glad to introduce myself. I am Loki, the god of mischief. A misfit at the place I was born, had a father I despised who considered my brother as the favourable child, a mad sister who is now dead, and my home was burnt by a fire monster. "
"Sounds familiar, hateful father-the favourable brother-a mad sister-home burnt by a fire monster, familiar indeed," Tyrion remarked. " The god of mischief!" He laughed. "If I were to describe you in a word it would be 'shenanigan'. Your brother seems more reasonable though ".
"And if I were to describe you in a word I would rather choose to remain silent" replied Loki. "What makes you mortals talk so highly of yourself ?”. A sudden glance from Thor made him alter the course of the conversation “ anyways we have work to do. Besides knowing things and being a consistent drunkard, is there anything you are good at? Maybe, like negotiation?" asked Loki.
A sangfroid Tyrion replied mockingly "As for me, I most certainly am the tallest Lannister as of now. And, as for you both, I am not exactly certain if you deserve my services, Gods".
“Do you question our status as gods?” questioned Loki.
“ I most certainly did not mean to question it. I am simply denying its very existence.” laughed Tyrion to their faces.
“Enough of these shenanigans, both of you!” exclaimed Thor. “Our people are in trouble. They have just lost their home and we have to rebuild. We need resources from Nidavellir- the home of the dwarves. The dwarves are reclusive and avoid contact with those not of their own kin but they surely are amenable and would listen to you. Will you be willing to help us, little man? ”
“I most certainly am amused by this out-of-the-world kerfuffle. Let’s say I no longer question the authenticity of your claims and play along, what do I get?” replied a drunken Tyrion.
“Bragging rights !” wittingly answered Loki.
“Touche! my friend. If you really think you can play on my vanity to be a part of your play, then…” he paused, “you are absolutely right! I have got nothing amusing happening around me since last year when a broken battlement fell on one of my cousins to claim his life!”.
"We need you to come with us right now!" said Thor as the Norse duo moved forward to hold Tyrion and the god of thunder proceeded to summon the bifrost.
"Where exactly is the stage? I hope not Flea Bottom at least" a drunk Tyrion enquired.
The brothers smiled at him as the rainbow bridge engulfed them and took them to Nidavellir in a sudden swoosh; beyond the measures of time and the technology of man.
3.
Nidavellir was not just a megastructure forge centered by a neutron star, it was home to 300 dwarves. This part of the nine realms forged the most powerful weapons the universe had ever witnessed. The dwarves were expert forgers and were held in high regard by the universe for their capabilities which had spread their word far and wide, either by the means of gratitude or by the means of destruction caused by their creations.
Sight of the multi-ringed structure encompassing the neutron star left Tyrion shocked to the very core. He no longer seemed to be in a drunken stupor.
"So you guys weren't fooling around. Oh god! Oh good lord! What are you guys up to ?" he astonishingly asked.
"That varies from moment to moment," Loki replied, starting to walk towards the forge.
Tyrion's eyes clearly revealed panic for new surroundings and joy for upcoming adventure. They wanted to consume all of what was happening around them. The commotion at the very heart of the forge caught the trio's attention. A couple of gigantic 'dwarves' were forging something that was beyond the universe's cognitive abilities. An elderly dwarf dressed in a long Blue plaid cloak, seemingly as old as the universe, greeted them.
" A minute you two," he said, his fingers pointing towards the brothers. As they followed the elderly dwarf Tyrion wondered about all the secrets and miracles that were present in this
place. He was in the presence of a dimension that was completely different from what he had imagined. For once he felt as if his life had a purpose. He felt a sense of belonging.
Soon the duo returned. Thor's face featured a stern expression while Loki's face sported mischief, the usual.
" So, what do you want me to do?" Tyrion enquired.
" I am afraid, nothing. They have agreed to help us out," answered Thor and then he paused.
" Shouldn't we be drinking then?" Tyrion took out a small bottle of wine and presented it to everyone. " Just two sips from this will take you to another world and unlike you my friend I don't mean that literally".
As Tyrion proceeded to drown amidst the pleasures of wine, Loki spoke " they want you. The elderly dwarf says you have a prophecy to fulfill. That is your destiny. Something about saving the world. And we don't have a choice."
Before Tyrion could reply he felt a sudden pain throbbing at the back of his head and all he saw was darkness.
Epilogue:
Eitri looked at the departing spaceship. Deep inside something told him that Thor had what it would take to stop the mad Titan’s bidding. He was glad to have made sure that Thor parted with the weapon fit for a king- The Stormbreaker. As he looked back at the forge his heart sank on the very notion that all of his kin had perished. Just like his previous family. As he looked at a broken piece of glass he realised he and it were quite alike- both shattered and bereft of their own kind. For a moment he felt as if he saw Tyrion in it, but no, Tyrion had died the very day he had accepted Nidavellir as his home and now it was his duty as its king to rebuild it. He shot another glance at the same piece of glass, and this time, he saw Eitri and a faint smile glowed on his face.