"Go with her," said Thor. "Or we will make you go."
Surtr licked his lips. "Thadren, ready your men."
Thadren looked at Elle, then at Thor's family.
If Thadren decided to fight, Thor and his family might be injured, and someone could be killed permanently. Someone she cared about.
“Wait," Elle blurted.
All eyes turned to her. She licked her lips and looked straight at Thadren. "As heir to the throne, I will give you Muspelheim, all of it, if you do nothing."
"You have no right to offer that," said Surtr.
"I do. When you leave for Helheim, I will be in charge. And as your successor, I have the right to abdicate the throne and to give it to whomever I deem the strongest and best to lead your people. And I choose Thadren."
Thadren looked as if he were weighing his options. “You do not want the throne?”
“No,” said Elle.
He studied her for a moment and then looked at Thor. “You choose him?”
She nodded.
Thadren’s expression fell for a fraction of a moment, and Elle felt a pang of sadness for him.
“I would have been good to you, Princess,” he said low enough for only her ears. “I would have loved you.”
“I know you would have,” she said. “But, he’s mine. And I am already his.”
Thadren ran a gentle finger down her cheek before pulling his hand away. His expression hardened, and he looked at Surtr. "We will not fight."
Surtr bellowed a guttural roar that reverberated through the cavernous hall. His fiery eyes blazed with unrelenting fury. With a deafening crash, he launched himself at Thadren, the massive blade in his hand gleaming like liquid fire. The ground quaked beneath his weight as he closed the distance in two thunderous strides.
"Thadren! No!" Elle's voice rang out, hands trembling as she summoned her magic. Her chest heaved with exertion, her fingers tingling with raw energy that begged to be unleashed. Her power coursed through her veins, hot and wild. She raised her hands and thrust them forward, releasing a crackling surge of violent energy that illuminated the hall in an otherworldly glow.
But her aim faltered.
The magic seared through the air, missing Surtr by mere inches, and instead collided with her mother’s throne behind him.
Surtr froze. His lips curled back into a snarl as he turned to Elle, his eyes locking onto hers with a predatory intensity.
Her jaw tightened as she focused again. The air around her shimmered as she called forth another spell. But this time, she forced herself to breathe and steady her trembling hands. She envisioned what she needed: something strong enough to bind him, to hold him down.
A rope. No. A dozen ropes.
Elle dragged her arms back, then, with every ounce of strength and precision, she flung them forward.
The magic responded instantly.
Strands of glowing energy shot forth from Elle’s outstretched palms like serpents unleashed from their lair. They twisted and coiled before converging on their target- Surtr’s massive torso. The glowing ropes wrapped around him. First his arms, pinning them to his sides, then his chest, and his legs, until he was entangled in their luminous grip.
Surtr roared as he struggled against the magical bindings. His movements violent but futile. Each attempt to break free only tightened the ropes further. He stumbled under their weight before collapsing onto the cold floor with a crash.
Thadren staggered back, wide-eyed as he stared at Surtr's restrained form. He turned to Elle. "How did you-"
Sweat trickled down her temple as she fought to keep the ropes intact. Her legs trembled, threatening to give out at any moment.
Surtr glared up at her from where he lay bound on the floor, his molten eyes still burning with hatred, but something else too. A flicker of respect... or perhaps fear? He bared his teeth in a grimace that might have been a smile if it weren’t so filled with malice.
