Who: Thor, with mentions of Frigga and Loki What: Thor has his own plans to enact. When: Current Where: Asgard, then Nidavellir Rating: Worksafe
A fight with Loki was always a guarantee that Thor would be in a truly foul mood after. Even when they had been children, he would storm around the Citadel until he found some way to make up for whatever he'd done to Loki. On the off chance that it had been something that Loki had done and not talked his way out of, Thor was usually quick to forgive so they could eagerly get back to the fun things.
Whatever slight he'd given his brother this time was as large and deep as the space between stars and he had no idea how to reconcile it. And reconcile it he would for the only thing possibly more important to him than Asgard was his family.
The fight had made one thing sure though. He'd been debating on what to do about his brother and now he knew. He said nothing to his mother on his return to Asgard, only told her the strict recounting of what he knew that Loki had done. Though he hoped between the two of them they might talk some sense into his brother, Thor understood that he couldn't rely on that. Whatever madness Loki was experiencing was far beyond appeal.
For so long, Thor had relied on his brother to be the tactician. Before the battle, where to go to wait, what to do. In battle he was left to his own devices and that worked out fine for the both of them, but now with Loki gone, Thor had to make those decisions himself. He knew the same tales Loki did, knew how to do the same things, but he'd relied on Loki for it so he could think of other things.
What he considered though... It was low, underhanded. If you took away the strength of an army, such as a prolonged siege on an enemy fortress, you could win in that way but it was hardly fitting. It was no glorious battle, only a brutal reality of war. He could think of no other way to neutralize his brother for any length of time without hurting him and so once he was finished speaking with his mother, he headed directly to Nidavellir.
The dwarves had no love of his brother and they had, once long ago, forged Gleipnir as they had forged the hammer that hung from his hand: Mjolnir. If anyone could create what he needed, it would be they. Though he was discomforted going beneath the ground and losing sight of the sky, Thor ventured deeper into their tunnels until the air became heated with their bellows and filled with the noise of the forges.
"I would speak to King Eitri," Thor said to the first dwarf he found. With a grunt he was led to the audience chamber for the King. When he had first thought of this, he had told Benji of it. Who knew what the King would want for him to create what Thor wanted, or how long it would take to complete the task. It was better for him to simply leave it open ended, promising Ben his time with Lizzy. Thor would get him back as soon as he could and even now he could feel the warm flush of Ben's thanks for the evening.
It had cost Thor nothing to wait then, but now he knew that he must do something. Bowing respectfully once he was before Eitri, he quickly and efficiently outlined what he desired. Their small eyes lit up with pleasure at the prospect of the binding Thor wanted. The dwarves had no love for Loki and to create a binding that would nullify his seiðr* was both a welcome challenge and a gleeful recompense for the Trickster.
"For you, we will do these things Thor, but our countryside is plagued by Mountain Giants," Eitri said, to the nods of Brok and Buri. That would be the cost then and Thor nodded. Mountain Giants were a common enemy on Asgard and they often tried to cross to other worlds.
"Then they shall plague your home no longer," Thor said with a deep bow of respect. Mountain Giants were not easy foes, but a chance to settle into the rhythm of a fight was a welcome one. They were hardly cunning, more brutish than their Frost cousins, but they did not go down easily. And, under the slate gray skies of Nidavellir, lightning did not come so easily.
It was a good place to lose himself for a few days. He hunted the small groups down, Mjolnir ringing. Time was easy to ignore and he had only the return to Las Vegas to remind him that time passed. The days blended easily and another time he would worry about how so many of the giants ended up here, on Nidavellir, but that was all placed aside for later, when the giants weren't hurtling boulders at his head.
Given their number, the damned things must have been breeding amongst the mountains. With his task complete, he laid down to sleep under the blackened slate of Nidavellir's sky. When he woke, he would find Eitri, but for now, sleep called to him, as irresistible as any siren's song.
In old Norse, this is a magic that includes shape-shifting, spell casting, and prophecy. More information can be found here: viking answer lady and Essays in Medieval Studies after page 140. In Marvel, seiðr is a blanket term for magic, regardless of the practitioner.