Marvel: Silver Hand

If you guys can pls drop some reviews for this fanfic.

A month had passed since Alexander arrived in Asgard.

In that time, he had grown stronger, faster, sharper. His mastery of Eldhringr had improved significantly, and so had his bond with the Asgardians—especially Thor and the Warriors Three.

But something was missing.

"You're fast, powerful, and skilled," Celebrimbor had told him, "but your body is still vulnerable. You need armor."

Alexander agreed.

The best warriors had protection, and if he wanted to stand among the gods, he needed more than just his natural durability.

So, he made a decision.

If he was going to forge armor, it wouldn't be just any armor—it would be made from one of the strongest materials in the universe.

Uru metal.

---

Standing before the golden gates of Asgard, Alexander gazed up at Heimdall, the all-seeing guardian of the Bifrost.

The massive, armored warrior looked down at him, his golden eyes gleaming with foresight.

"You wish to travel to Nidavellir," Heimdall stated, his voice like rolling thunder.

Alexander nodded. "I need Uru metal. I need to forge armor that will withstand even the strongest of blows."

Heimdall studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod of approval.

"Very well. Stand ready."

The guardian raised his massive sword, plunging it into the control mechanism of the Bifrost.

A second later—

BOOM!

The rainbow bridge of energy engulfed Alexander, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

---

Alexander landed in Nidavellir, his boots hitting the rocky terrain with a solid thud.

The realm was a sight to behold.

Massive forge-cities built into towering mountains, with rivers of molten metal flowing like veins through the land.

The air was thick with heat and smoke, the scent of burning ore filling his nostrils.

A group of Dwarves—short but powerfully built, with beards as thick as steel wool—stood at the entrance to the great forge.

One of them, a broad-shouldered warrior with a hammer strapped to his back, stepped forward.

"An Asgardian, eh? Here for a blade, or something more?"

Alexander gave a respectful nod. "I seek an audience with Eitri, King of Nidavellir."

The dwarf's eyes widened slightly at his directness but gave a grunt of approval. "Follow me, then."

As they walked, Celebrimbor spoke within his mind.

"These Dwarves are much like the Dwarves in Middle-earth," he mused. "Skilled craftsmen, stubborn, proud. But their forges burn hotter, and their reach extends beyond one world."

Alexander smirked. "You sound impressed."

"I am."

They soon entered the Royal Hall of Eitri, a grand chamber built of stone and inlaid with glowing runes.

At the center sat Eitri, King of Nidavellir, a massive dwarf clad in heavy armor, his beard adorned with rings of gold and Uru.

His piercing dark eyes studied Alexander as he approached.

"So, the God of Smithing finally comes to Nidavellir."

Alexander gave a slight bow. "I seek your aid, King Eitri. I wish to forge an armor set worthy of battle."

Eitri stroked his beard, his expression unreadable. "A worthy request. But before we discuss forging, there is a… problem."

Alexander's brows furrowed. "Problem?"

Eitri sighed. "A rebellion. My nephew, Sindri, has turned against me. He has allied with pirates and rogue dwarves, attacking my outposts across the realms. And worse… he possesses a weapon that makes him nearly invincible."

Alexander folded his arms. "If this is such a threat, why have you not called for Asgard's aid?"

"Because I thought we could handle it," Eitri admitted, his voice grim. "Nidavellir has always prided itself on its independence. But Sindri's power is… unnatural. I was preparing to send word to Odin when you arrived."

He met Alexander's gaze. "Would you deliver this message to Odin and bring Asgard's might to our aid?"

Alexander didn't hesitate.

"I will."

Eitri's face softened. "Then take this."

He handed Alexander a sealed scroll, its wax insignia glowing with magical enchantment.

"Go swiftly. Asgard must know of this threat before it is too late."

Alexander clenched his fist around the message. "Consider it done."

---

Back at the Bifrost, Heimdall summoned the bridge once more, and in an instant, Alexander was back in Asgard.

Without wasting time, he flew toward the Royal Hall, bursting through the great doors.

Odin, seated upon his throne, raised an eyebrow at his abrupt entrance.

"You return swiftly, Alexander. What news?"

Alexander approached and handed him Eitri's message.

Odin broke the seal, his lone eye scanning the words.

His expression darkened.

He looked up sharply. "Thor! Warriors Three! You are summoned!"

Within moments, Thor and his closest warriors—Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg—entered the hall.

Thor grinned. "Brother! I had not expected to see you again so soon! Have you come to drink more?"

Alexander shook his head, his tone serious. "No. We have a rebellion to crush."

Odin rose, gripping Gungnir, his spear of power.

"Sindri has betrayed Nidavellir. He possesses a weapon of unknown power and threatens the very balance of the realms. Asgard will not stand idle."

He turned to Thor. "You and the Warriors Three will join Alexander. Together, you will put down this rebellion before it spreads further."

Thor's grin turned into a smirk of anticipation.

"Finally! A true battle!"

Fandral twirled his rapier. "It shall be a glorious adventure."

Hogun merely nodded, his stern gaze unwavering.

Volstagg patted his belly. "A shame. I was enjoying a feast. But very well, let us fight!"

Alexander cracked his knuckles. "Then let's move. The sooner we leave, the sooner we put an end to this."

Odin raised his spear. "Go forth, and may Asgard's strength be with you."

The warriors turned, marching toward the Bifrost.

As Alexander walked beside Thor, the thunder god grinned at him.

"A rebellion to crush, an army to face, and a powerful enemy to defeat… Tell me, brother, is this not the best way to spend a day?"

Alexander chuckled. "As long as there's no drinking contest afterward."

Thor roared with laughter as they stepped onto the Bifrost.

A moment later—

They were gone.