"Are you sure you want to go to Nidavellir now?" Heimdall asked as he prepared the Bifrost with his sword.
Vidar watched his friend work the controls of the Rainbow Bridge. Heimdall was imposing—tall and powerfully built, with long dark hair falling over his shoulders and a well-groomed beard. His golden eyes shone with the power to see all the Nine Realms, and he wore heavy armor that made him look more like a warrior than a sentinel.
"The dwarves need to know that the change in Asgard is not a threat to them," Vidar replied. "And I need to make sure our alliances with the realms continue to prosper. The forges of Nidavellir are far too important."
Heimdall nodded, inserting his sword into the mechanism. But before activating it, he stopped and looked directly at Vidar.
"There's something else, isn't there? There's always something else with you, old friend."
Vidar smiled faintly. That was one of the reasons he valued Heimdall so much—his friend could see beyond words, both literally and metaphorically.
"The dwarves are forgers of objects of power," Vidar said carefully. "And there are certain objects that… concern me. Objects that could be used for dangerous purposes."
Heimdall studied him with those all-seeing eyes.
"The Gauntlet."
It wasn't a question.
Vidar nodded slowly.
"So you've seen it, then."
"I saw its creation, years ago," Heimdall confirmed. "Eitri forged it at the request of someone whose face I couldn't see clearly—he was shrouded in shadows even to my eyes. It always seemed… ominous to me."
He crossed his arms, his expression serious.
"Why now, Vidar? Why worry about a gauntlet forged many decades ago?"
Vidar considered how much to reveal. Heimdall was his friend, one of the few he trusted completely. But even to him, he couldn't tell the whole truth.
"Because the Infinity Stones won't remain hidden forever," he said at last. "And when someone decides to gather them, that gauntlet will be the tool they use."
Heimdall nodded slowly, accepting that.
"Then you're going to warn Eitri."
"I'm going to plant seeds," Vidar corrected. "To make sure that when the time comes, the dwarves are prepared to make informed decisions."
Heimdall smiled—a rare expression on his usually stoic face.
"Always playing the long game. That's why you're better at this than Odin ever was."
He activated the Bifrost before Vidar could respond.
"Go carefully, my friend. And remember—if you need anything, all you have to do is call. I'll always be watching."
Vidar nodded, grateful.
"I know, Heimdall. And thank you."
The Bifrost enveloped him in rainbow light, carrying him across the cosmos.
He landed on a metal platform that shimmered with residual heat. Nidavellir was a unique realm—built around a dying star, with massive rings of metal orbiting the celestial body. The dwarves' forges used the power of the star itself to create weapons and objects of incomparable power.
A group of dwarves awaited him. They were short but incredibly broad, pure muscle forged by centuries of labor in the forges. Their beards were braided with metal beads, and their eyes gleamed with the light of a thousand fires.
"Vidar Odinson," greeted the leader, a massive dwarf with a beard that reached his belt. "Or should I say… Vidar, the new king of Asgard. I heard you took Odin's power."
Vidar inclined his head respectfully.
"Eitri, King of the Dwarves. It is an honor to be here."
Eitri studied him with eyes that had seen thousands of weapons and millions of metals.
"Honor is questionable when Asgard is in such… change. Odin fallen. Hela freed. You wielding a new power that makes the cosmos tremble."
His expression was impossible to read.
"Tell me, young god—do you come as a friend, or as a conqueror?"