A Tale of Two Worlds

Chapters

A Ponyville Tradition
A Day in Canterlot, Part 1
Some Re-Assembly Required
The Life of an Archivist.
Say The Word
Best Laid Plans, Part 1
Best Laid Plans, Part 2
Escape
Loki's Arrival
A Day in Canterlot, Part 2
An Unexpected Arrival, Part 1

A Ponyville Tradition

Applejack looked back at the saddlebags draped over her body. The covers bulged upward as the contents strained to get out. Apples, of course. She'd been asked to bring a gift to the party, and what better gift for the guest of honor than a taste of Ponyville's finest fruit harvest, freshly picked from its best farmland?

Trotting into her home, she kicked the door shut behind her and tilted her head back with a jerk. Her hat flew off her mane and, with a practiced roll, hooked itself onto one of the hangers by the door. With a shake of her mane, she walked through her family's living room and up the stairs toward her bedroom.

"Applebloom," she called as she walked by her little sister's room. "Y'all need to be ready in 'bout ten minutes! We're not gonna be late for this party like we were with the last one!"

"Ah'm ready, sis!" Applebloom opened up her door, smiling up at her sister. The little filly's hair was done up in her bow, pretty as it always was. She grinned to show off her pearly white teeth, knowing that the next question her sister would ask would be if she had brushed them like she'd been asked to do.

Applejack had to fight the urge to reach down and ruffle her sister's mane, instead settling for nod of approval. "Now go on downstairs and wait fer yer brother an' me. I gotta get mah mane straightened up, then we'll be down lickety split." Applejack turned to head to her room, nearly running into her big brother Big Macintosh. The red-coated stallion had an uncanny knack for appearing out of nowhere whenever his name was mentioned. Applejack smiled and looked her brother up and down, noticing that he'd taken a shower like she'd asked.

"Ah, Big Mac! Ya'll ready for the big party tonight?"

"Eeyup." Applejack had expected nothing more from her brother, the big stallion moving past her with Applebloom hot on his heels. The filly began going on and on about how excited she was to meet the guest of honor and checking out his cutie mark and asking him questions and so on and so forth. Big Mac only smiled and nodded, patient and silent as he always was, as they both descended the staircase.

Applejack grinned, turning to trot into her bedroom. Rearing up on her hind legs, she let her saddlebags slide off gently onto the floor and made her way into her bathroom. Grabbing the water knob of her shower with her teeth, she turned on the hot water and sighed as steam began to fill the small room. With a deft twirl of her manetail, she pulled her scrunchie off the end and shook her mane out, her blonde mane falling about her face in flat, sweat-soaked strands. Dipping her head underneath the flow of the shower, Applejack allowed herself a few moment to savor the warmth of the water washing over her scalp. For a hardworking farmpony like her, such moments came few and far between.

Ten minutes later, a dry and happy Applejack came trotting down to meet her kin. Her mane glistened softly with what little water was left, though it was most likely dry on the way to their destination. Regarding her brother and sister, she looked back to check if her saddlebags were sitting correctly on her body.

"Well, I guess I'm ready. Let's get on the road, gang."

Rarity sang to herself as she combed out her mane with her most expensive, gemstone-studded comb. Staring at herself in the mirror, she batted her eyelashes a few times, pursing her lips into a gentle pout. Turning her head left and right, she made sure that her mane was correct from any angle she could conceive.

Setting her mane comb down, her horn glowed once again as she picked up her mascara brush and popped it out of its small, round holster. Leaning close to the mirror, she brought the rounded brush close to her right eyelash. She needed to do this just right, or the whole night could be ruined.

"Rarity!"

Rarity jerked and nearly thrust the mascara brush into her eye. Leaning back with an exaggerated sigh, she turned to see her little sister, Sweetie Belle, standing at the entrance of her room. The filly's hair was done up according to Rarity's exacting standards, an absolutely adorable frilly collar wrapped around her neck. Sweetie had a pouty, indignant look on her face.

"Rarity, we're gonna be late!" Sweetie Belle's voice cracked as she almost hopped into the air, the emphasis she'd put on the word 'late' almost too much for her young body to contain. She put on that adorable pout once again, and Rarity heaved a sigh.

"Sweetie Belle, you know I must be as prepared as possible for tonight's party!" The fashionista huffed and marched over to her little sister, raising a hoof and pointing toward her living room. "Wait downstairs and I shall be with you as soon as I possibly can! I cannot leave one detail amiss, or I shall embarrass myself in front of the guest of honor!"

Sweetie Belle looked as if she were prepared to throw a tantrum, but finally she sighed and turned to trot downstairs, her head hung down. Rarity didn't particularly enjoy arguing with her sister, but Sweetie Belle just never understood the importance of making a good first impression.

Turning to march back to her makeup table, Rarity sat back down on her haunches and resumed her preparations. Her mascara applied with the slow, deliberate perfectionism that was her trademark, she ran through the rest of her necessities with what she considered to be irresponsible speed. A bit of perfume to enhance her presence in close conversation; a small hair clip with a gemstone representation of her cutie mark, to catch the eye; and finally the tiniest bit of lip balm.

Regarding herself in the mirror, she grinned in satisfaction with her appearance. She was sure she would make a great impression with the guest of honor.

"I'm ready!" Rarity sing-songed as she proudly walked down the stairs, ignoring Sweetie Belle's childish yell of 'Finally!'.

“Yo, Fluttershy. You ready to go?” Rainbow Dash gently knocked on her friend's front door, her wings tucked against her sides, body covered with a thin sheen of sweat from the flight over.

From inside, Rainbow could hear the gentle shuffling of hooves on a wooden floor. Slowly the front door opened, and Fluttershy peeked her head out to look up at Rainbow from behind her mane.

“Oh...um...is it time for the party already?” Fluttershy opened the door fully and meekly stepped out onto her front porch. The wing she had dislocated lay in a sling at her side, the doctor having told her to keep from flying unaided for at least a week. Rainbow Dash didn't have any idea how Flutters could stand it; when her wings were disabled, she'd nearly gone crazy with boredom.

“It's gonna start really soon. I'm here to make sure you get there in time. You are one big part of the party, after all.” Rainbow smiled, before moving up to her friend's side. Dash hated to walk when she could fly, but trying to help Fluttershy fly the whole way to the library didn't sound like an enjoyable task.

Fluttershy looked sidelong at Rainbow Dash, then dipped her head down and mumbled something too inaudible for her friend to make out. Dash sighed softly and gave her friend a gentle nudge on her shoulder.

“C'mon, Fluttershy,” she said, reaching up to gently drape one of her forelimbs across Fluttershy's neck. “You're not still scared of Loki, are you? He told all of us that what you saw was just an illusion, a trick of his teleportation spell.”

Fluttershy sighed and worried on her bottom lip, gently stamping one of her hooves in frustration.

“He did look like a monster, Rainbow Dash!” Fluttershy's voice barely rose above her usual two decibels, and she looked up at her friend, frustration playing across her face. “He was tall and blue and he had these big, scary-looking red eyes and he stood on two legs! It was as real as you are right now!” She reached out and gave Rainbow's chest a gentle push, a blush rising to her face before she mumbled a small, squeaky apology. Rainbow could only smile and give her friend's neck a one-armed hug.

“Aww, c'mon, Fluttershy,” Rainbow smiled, giving her a gentle push forward to get her walking. “He saved your life, remember? He can't be all bad. Besides, this party isn't just about him; this is a Get-Well-Soon Party for you, too, remember? Think about how disappointed Pinkie'd be if you didn't show up.”

The thought of disappointing Pinkie Pie made Fluttershy dip her head down and count at the ground, heaving a small sigh and nodding her head. “A-All right, Rainbow Dash. I'll go.” She took another sidelong look at her friend, raising her head a bit as she noticed the thin sheen of sweat that stood out on Rainbow Dash's coat.

“Are you sure you're ready to go, Rainbow? Maybe you should come in an--” Rainbow Dash cut off Fluttershy's offer for a shower with a small laugh. She shook her head and winked.

“Ready? I'm always ready for a Pinkie Pie Party!”

Pinkie Pie's mind was not something for mere mortals to understand; it worked in mysterious and often self-contradictory ways, flitting from one subject to the next with the speed of a hyper-advanced supercomputer. Never was her mind more keyed up and in tune with the fabric of the Universe than when she was going through the preparations for her latest party.

The pink party pony stood in the middle of Twilight's library home, craning her head every which way to check out the decorations. Tilting her head back, she observed the triple-tiered banner she'd made especially for this party. From top to bottom, the banners read:

WELCOME TO PONYVILLE, LOKI!

THANKS FOR SAVING FLUTTERSHY, LOKI!

GET WELL SOON, FLUTTERSHY!

Each banner was decorated with drawings of cakes, balloons, pies, and any other things Pinkie Pie thought would be cheerful and welcoming. She still felt slightly disappointed in herself that she hadn't been able to put this party on the day Loki had arrived; however, she was more forgiving than usual. She'd never attempted a Triple-Party before! A welcoming party, a thank-you party, and a get-well-soon party? She was going to outdo herself without even trying!

Zipping over to the food buffet, she had to fight with every ounce of willpower not to take a little nibble of each of the succulent treats on display. A tall, wide cake topped with a hastily-thrown-together representation of Loki saving Fluttershy on its crown dominated the long table, surrounded by small plates containing tasty appetizers ranging from fried hay sticks to tiny cupcakes, perfect for dipping in the chocolate fountain she'd brought over.

She finally just had to give in to her nature and dipped herself some of her specially-made punch, an ice-blue concoction she'd whipped up with their guest-of-honor in mind. A knock at the door almost made her fumble with the ladle, but she recovered and finished doling herself a measure of punch. Taking a sip as she trotted across the room, she opened the door and grinned.

“Vinyl! I'm so super-excited you could make it on such short notice!” She reached out and hugged her best-good DJ friend, pulling her inside with a grin. The DJ grinned in the laid-back way she was known for, reaching back outside to grab her portable turntable and wheel it into the library.

“No prob, Pinks,” Vinyl Scratch spoke cheerfully, anticipating another great party and a hefty pile of bits in return for a job well done. “Always happy to scratch some discs at a Pinkie Pie Party.” Giving her turntable a good, swift kick with a rear leg, the machine sped into a corner where it hit a bookcase and unfolded itself. Two large speakers popped out from its inner workings and settled on either side of the contraption, the white-furred DJ grinning as she trotted over to begin her sound check.

Pinkie Pie gave a giggle at Vinyl's hilarious means of unpacking, before the sounds of voices at the doorway instantly switched her mind to the task of welcoming the party's guests. With a speed that would give an Faster-Than-Light drive a run for its money, she was at the doorway in a nanosecond, putting on her best grin and waving at the gaggle of ponies who had arrived early.

“Hiya! Welcome to the Triple Party! I hope all of you ponies are ready to par-tay!”

The noise from downstairs was beginning to grow. Twilight looked up to check the clock on her wall. Yikes, she was going to be late to the party! Time always flew when she was finishing up the last few tasks on her checklist.

Levitating the checklist in front of her, she pulled her favorite quill from its inkpot and began triple-check the steps necessary to prepare for a Pinkie Pie Party:

RSVP? Triple-check. She'd done that the day before, when the party had been announced.

Avoid sweets for the day? Triple-check. She didn't need to get sick, and she certainly didn't want to refuse any food at the party.

Cancel her plans for the next day? Triple-check. This was a party like none the pink pony had ever thrown before, and Twilight knew she wasn't going to be getting any amount of sleep tonight.

Bring the guest of honor to the party? Well, no triple-checking for that, because you could only do it once. Curling up her list and settling her quill back into its inkpot, Twilight hopped off her pillow-seat and trotted to her doorway, turning right to walk down the small hallway to the guest room.

Finding a place for Loki to stay had been tricky, but in the end she and her friends had decided on the library. It was the closest to the hospital, and as Princess Celestia's best student, Twilight thought of it as her duty to look after a new visitor in Equestria. Reaching up, she knocked on the door. A sound behind her caught her attention, and she turned to regard her assistant Spike with a smile.

“Hey, Spike. How's the party?” Spike already had a small party hat on his head, and a glass of punch in his hand. He grinned up at her and downed the punch.

“It's great! There's so much good food and punch and the music is awesome! But everyone's wondering where Loki is; matter of fact, I've been wondering that myself. You know he hasn't come out of that room at all?” Twilight tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. She'd spent most of her day out of the library, trying to get her chores and affairs in order in preparation for the massive bash Pinkie Pie had planned; she hadn't had the time to come in and check on her guest.

She was about to knock again when the doorknob turned. The door opened, and Loki appeared. His helmet missing, his black mane gave off a soft sheen from the light of the candles in his room. His armor had also been removed, leaving him only with his green shirt and his cape. He looked down at Twilight with those magenta eyes, and Twilight smiled back.

"Hello, Loki. I just wanted to let you know that the party has begun." Twilight moved out of the way for Loki to join her, keeping that welcoming smile. Loki stood at the doorway, his face unreadable. As the seconds ticked by, Twilight finally coughed softly and raised a hoof to her mouth.

"Um, Loki? We kind of need to get going. You're the guest of honor, after all." Twilight tilted her head, looking up at the stallion, her purple eyes searching his face to try to detect any reason why he would hesitate. Loki turned his head to look down the hallway, his magenta eyes narrowing at the sight of a balloon floating up the stairway to bob against the floor.

"I am..." He spoke slowly, carefully picking his words, "unsure that I wish to attend such an event, Twilight Sparkle." Twilight raised her eyebrows and turned herself so that she fully faced her houseguest. Spike shrugged his shoulders and walked back to the party; if Loki wanted to be stubborn, that was his business. All that food wasn't going to eat itself. Loki continued, looking down at Twilight with that same unreadable face.

"I am grateful for your hospitality, as well as the access you have granted me to your library.” He looked down as that balloon floated close to his hoof. “However, not to sound egotistical, but it seems to me that the actions I took in defense of Fluttershy would call for something with a bit more pomp and circumstance." Levitating the balloon up with his horn, he raised an eyebrow.

"Such a celebration seems rather childish, in my opinion." He let the balloon fall and met Twilight's gaze again. He had worried that he would offend the purple unicorn mare, but found himself taken aback when she closed her eyes and started laughing. Raising a hoof to her face, Twilight opened one eye and looked up at Loki, her grin wide and genuine.

"Loki, trust me, I know exactly how you feel. But here in Ponyville, a Pinkie Pie Party is about as formal as you can get.” Twilight motioned for Loki to follow. “Every new pony gets a Welcoming party. It's practically a Ponyville tradition." When Loki continued to hesitate, Twilight had to stifle a sigh. She moved in closer and lowered her voice.

"Look, you need to at least make an appearance. If you don't show up, she'll get sad and possibly offended. If you offend Pinkie Pie, that's practically the same as offending the entire town." She turned and trotted to the head of the stairs, looking over her shoulder and smiling.

"You've gotta be hungry after being cooped up in your room all day. So come on down, have some cake and punch, and mingle a little bit!" Twilight looked down the stairs to see Pinkie Pie at the bottom, nearly hopping up and down with excitement. Twilight raised a hoof and made a gesture that meant 'wait just a second' and turned back to look at Loki, an expectant look on her face.

Loki breathed a slow, deep sigh. Closing his eyes, he allowed his armor to rematerialize across his body as he slowly walked to join Twilight Sparkle at the head of the stairs.

"Lead on, then, Twilight Sparkle," Loki spoke, looking down the stairs to see the pink pony whom he now knew to be Pinkie Pie, practically squeal in delight at the sight of him and trot off into the party.

"I am as ready as I shall ever be."

"Fillies and Gentlecolts!"

The entire party stopped and stared as their elected official, Mayor Mare, stepped up to stand at the base of the stairs. Regarding her constituency with a smile, the white-maned mare raised a hoof into the air and continued.

"Pinkie Pie and I would like to thank you all for attending this party on such short notice. It has been an exciting twenty-four hours in Ponyville, as I am sure you are all quite aware. Before we get to our newcomer and guest of honor, I would like to recognize the Element of Kindness, Fluttershy, and hope you'll join me in wishing her a speedy recovery."

The entire room rumbled with the beating of dozens of pairs of hooves against the ground, and Fluttershy wished both of her wings worked so she might better hide her face. She blushed and hung her head, gently kicking at the ground. As the applause died down, Mayor Mare continued.

"And now, for the guest of honor. For those ponies present who are not aware, our guest of honor appeared yesterday, seeking asylum in our lands. His sudden appearance frightened Fluttershy, who took refuge in the Everfree Forest. She might have died at the hands of a vicious quarlem had it not been for his intervention. Now, won't you all please give a great big Ponyville welcome to our guest: Loki!" Mayor Mare moved aside and raised a hoof to the stairs. The applause rang out in the room as the golden-armored unicorn descended the staircase, standing at its base to look out at the gathered crowd.

Twilight followed him and stood at his side, smiling out at the party. She could see her friends, the Elements of Harmony, gathered together in a small group amongst the partygoers. Her stomach rumbled as she gazed upon the gigantic cake.

"Thank you," Loki spoke. "Thank all of you for this wonderful welcome. I am sure that you all have questions to ask of me. Before this party begins and I become distracted by food, drink, and music, I suppose now would be the best time for me to answer any that you wish to ask." A grey-colored hoof shot into the air. Loki raised his own hoof in acknowledgement, and a blonde-maned, wall-eyed pegasus floated up above the crowd.

"Where didja come from, anyway?" Her ditzy voice gave the impression of absent-mindedness. Loki only had to think for half a second before he was able to come up with an answer that would suit his needs.

"I come from a realm known as Asgard. It is also known as the Realm Eternal. It is a land of wealth and plenty, and was at one time ruled over by an intelligent and benevolent king; myself. I--" Loki nearly lashed out as he found his personal space suddenly invaded by a familiar fashionista. Rarity smiled up at him, batting her eyelashes and leaning in slowly.

"Oh my goodness; strong, brave, and royalty." Rarity lowered her eyelids to half-mast, her smile taking on a tone better reserved for moments shared between two special someponies. "You simply must come by my shop sometime, Loki. I would dearly love to explore what sort of fashions I could create from your armor..." Rarity's sentence trailed off. Looking out at the party, she found herself being stared at by nearly the whole town. Smiling sheepishly and offering a nervous chuckle, she backed down and melted into the protective shell of her group of friends. Rainbow Dash was nearly crying, she was laughing so hard.

Loki recovered his composure quickly, and after Twilight had apologized for the behavior of her friend, he reiterated that he was willing to take any other questions about himself. Another hoof went into the air, this one belonging to the red-coated mare named Cheerilee. An intelligent mare, as one would have to be to teach children, she voiced the one question that almost everypony had on their mind.

"Why are you here, Loki?"

Loki raised an eyebrow. He had hoped that he might avoid this question, but such hoping was probably childish at best. These ponies might be soft and easily led, but they were not at all unintelligent. Still, he was not known as the God of Mischief among the human mortals for nothing. Letting out a slow, deliberate sigh, he let his head hang down as he started in on his tale.

"Because I failed. I failed to protect the ponies over which I ruled, and then I was banished." He allowed his words to sink into the audience, hearing the promising sound of murmuring amongst the ponies before he continued.

"I have a brother by the name of Thor. He was once a strong and stalwart stallion who was content to adventure amongst the universe with his friends while I ruled over our homeland.” He lowered his voice an octave, a grave expression crossing his face. “However, the power I wielded soon became too much for him, as jealousy clouded his simple mind. He tried to usurp my throne, but I easily repulsed his childish attempts. With a heavy heart, I was forced to banish him from Asgard. I sent him to a tiny world known as Midgard, and thought him lost to me."

Loki slowly moved into the midst of the crowd, turning to face each pony in turn, giving the proper inflection and weight to each word as he continued with his fabricated story.

"That is not the end of the story, however. While on Midgard, my brother's jealousy turned to rage. He sought out likeminded individuals and brought them over to his cause.” Loki's eyes locked with every other pony in turn, reading the crowd and adjusting his voice to gain the best reaction. “He called them the Avengers, and they were bloodthirsty mercenaries without peer.

"Seeking aid from a shadowy organization known as SHIELD, he found the help of two psychopathic killers known only as the Black Widow and Hawkeye. The Widow is a creature of disguise and manipulation, the Hawk preferring to use his bow and arrow to mercilessly cut down his foes.

"In a land of fascistic totalitarianism, he found Captain America; a red-white-and-blue representation of everything that is sick and wrong with his country, bodily enhanced by fell science and fueled by a need to seize power over anypony he sees.

"From atop his tower of opulence and decadence, Tony Stark answered my brother's call. He is a viciously clever pony who created for himself an abominable suit of living armor, a golden and red menace that he uses to terrorize the timid populace of Midgard.

"Finally, he found a mad scientist by the name of Bruce Banner; a common-looking pony with a sick anger burning inside his body. He had found a way to give that anger form, and would transform into a vicious green brute known as the Hulk- a great muscled Earth stallion three times as big as myself.

"It is with these horrendous murderers and madponies that my brother assaulted Asgard. Try as I might, I was unable to keep them at bay, and my brother eventually toppled my armies and I was forced to flee. In my panic, I teleported away without any idea of where or even when I would end up. That's when I ended up on the outskirts of the Everfree Forest."

Loki stood in the center of the crowd, studying the faces of the ponies. He had been hoping for sympathy and fear, and from what he could tell, he had been able to induce just such a reaction in all those present. His eyes found Fluttershy; she looked absolutely horrified by the tale he had told. He offers a small bow of his head as he finished.

"The rest of the story I suppose you all know."

A heavy silence descended on the party, as the weight of the Loki's tale sunk into everypony present. Loki shifted his eyes from face to face, taking in their reactions and having to suppress a smile. Why, he swore he could even see some tears being worked up by a few of the ponies in the audience.

Fluttershy broke from the crowd and slowly approached Loki, her bottom lip quivering. Loki tilted his head back, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. He opened his mouth to say something, before he was almost bowled over by the force of the hug Fluttershy gave him.

"Oh Loki, I'm so sorry for you!" She cried out, hugging tightly to his neck and squeezing her eyes shut. Loki looked down at her, unable to truly comprehend what was occurring. Fighting back the urge to throw her away, he brought up a hoof and laid it gently across the back of her neck, giving her a soft hug in return.

This seemed to open the floodgates, for he felt himself assaulted on all sides by warm, soft arms. Fluttershy's friends joined in with her, Pinkie Pie foremost among them, grabbing Loki's neck and hugging him extra-tight to keep herself from crying. Twilight and Rarity took up stations on either side of Loki, raising their arms to embrace him and lean in to offer their apologies and condolences. Even Rainbow Dash flew into the group hug and wrapped her arms around Loki's neck, hugging him tight while keeping herself aloft with her wings.

Only Applejack remained outside of the group hug. She watched from the sidelines, her green eyes narrowed. Pinkie Pie shouted over the crowd, separating herself from the group hug to bounce up toward Vinyl's turntable.

"C'mon, everypony!" she said, putting on a great, big, Pinkie Pie grin. "Let's not all have saddy-sad faces! This is Ponyville, and we've got a new pony to welcome!" She stood on her hind legs and, with an overdramatic flourish, pointed a forehoof at Vinyl.

"Now let's drop all of the bass and get this party started!"

Vinyl grinned, using a forehoof to flip one of her records onto the turntable. "Aw, yeah! Time to lay down the beats, Ponyville style!" The record started up, and with a few scratches back and forth, Vinyl let the music play. The beat thrummed throughout the library, ponies grinning to each other and beginning to bob up and down in time with the music.

Loki closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

This was going to be a long night.

The music pounded against Loki's head. His stomach felt full to bursting with sweets multifarious. He had drunk enough punch to fill a lake. Still the party continued. If there were one accolade he would give to these ponies, they had an abundance of energy.

Twilight had made sure that Loki had been introduced to all of her friends. He had met her closest friends, the so-called 'Elements of Harmony', the day before in the hospital, so now he was meeting friends and acquaintances. The wall-eyed pony went by the name of Ditzy Doo, although she spoke of some friends calling her 'Derpy'; other ponies went by in a blur of brightly-colored fur with equally-garish manes: a bright blue pony, the residential dental hygienist; the red-colored pony with smiling flowers on her flank, a local schoolteacher; a plain-looking brown pony with an hourglass on his flank; the DJ with a brash, almost rude demeanor; and so many, many more. Loki could not bring himself to care enough to remember their names.

It was when Twilight was introducing Loki to what he suspected was the one-hundredth friend that night that he felt something tugging on his cape. He gave his shoulders a little jerk, thinking he might have caught it on a table edge. A squeak and another hard tug followed. Turning around, he found a small white-coated filly with a pink-and-purple mane attached to his cape by her teeth. He raised an eyebrow as she let go.

"Excuse me, Mr. Loki," she spoke, her voice cracking slightly. "My name is Sweetie Belle, and these are my friends!" As if from some pocket dimension, two more fillies popped out from behind Sweetie Belle; a yellow-furred earth pony with a big bow in her mane, and a orange-furred, pink-maned pegasus.

"Ah'm Applebloom!" The yellow-furred filly trotted out to Sweetie Belle's side, sitting down on her haunches and smiling up at Loki.

"My name's Scootaloo!" The orange pegasus' wings buzzed softly as she tried to achieve liftoff, but she settled with plopping down next to Sweetie Belle. The three of them looked at each other, then tilted their heads back and spoke in unison.

"And we're...The Cutie Mark Crusaders!"

Loki winced, the volume and sharpness of their youthful voices biting into his ears, making them lower against his head in reflex. Straightening himself up, he turned to face the young fillies, tilting his head to the side. The questioning look on his face made the three friends shuffle nervously before Scootaloo raised a hoof and pointed at Loki's flank.

"We wanna know what you got your cutie mark for, Loki! We've never seen anything like it!" At the pegasus' question, Loki turned his head around to regard the three ice-crystals on his flanks. Twilight's face scrunched into a look of disapproval at the Crusaders interrupting her introductions, but Loki cut her off before she could voice any objections.

"I am skilled in the use of ice magic," he said, turning back to face the three Crusaders. "My cutie mark shows that. When I was younger, I discovered that I could manipulate ice with a greater degree of control than my brother, or any other Asgardian for that matter. When I made that discovery, this appeared on my flank."

The three crusaders looked at each other, grins playing across their faces. Twilight rolled her eyes and braced for the inevitable, while Loki just regarded the three fillies with the same dispassion that had forced himself to display for the entire night. From across the party, Applejack separated from a small group to walk closer, sidling up beside Twilight.

"You can do ice magic?" Applebloom grinned and stood up, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo following suit. After a nod from Loki, Scootaloo began to hop up and down, her wings buzzing happily.

"Show us! Show us something awesome, Loki! We wanna see some super-cool ice magic!" Loki tilted his neck back a bit, surprise playing across his face. Twilight sighed softly.

Before she could say anything, she was interrupted as Applejack gently nudged her neck. Turning, Twilight furrowed her brows as Applejack raised a hoof, beckoning Twilight away from Loki with a look of worry on her face. Scrunching her face up, Twilight looked back to see Loki levitating his helmet off.

Another insistent nudge from Applejack made Twilight sigh softly and follow the farmpony a few feet away from the guest of honor.

"All right, Applejack," she said, looking at her friend's worried expression with a tilt of her head. "What did you need to talk to me about?" Applejack shifted her eyes over Twilight's shoulder, checking to see that Loki was sufficiently distracted, before letting out a slow sigh and speaking.

"Twilight, I'm sorry, I really am, but I just can't shake this feeling. I can't trust this Loki character at all." Applejack fidgeted nervously, reaching up to adjust her hat. She worried on her bottom lip some before she went on. “Ever since yesterday when we first saw him in the hospital, I’ve had a weird feeling about him. I’ve been watching him since then. Celestia help me, but he gives me the creeps, Twilight.”

Twilight had to fight to hide her surprise at Applejacks’s sudden confession. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again and brought a hoof up to her chin, scratching thoughtfully.

“What sort of feeling is this, Applejack?” She asked, concern lacing her voice. “I’ve never seen you so flustered by another pony before. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you looked almost terrified of Loki.”

“Applejack’s scared of Loki?” Rainbow Dash interjected, looking between her two friends as she floated down between them. “What for? He saved Fluttershy’s life. He’s cool in my book. Why in Equestria would you be afraid of him, Applejack?”

“Who’s afraid of who?” Like a gas particle, Pinkie Pie bounced into the scene, her bubbly voice toned down with curiosity and concern as she took up a place next to Twilight.

“Applejack’s scared of Loki.” Rainbow cut her friends off before they could explain the situation, earning a hat-slap to the head from Applejack. Pinkie Pie gasped softly and gave Applejack a reproachful look.

Applejack was nearly shouting. “Listen here now: what I’m tryin’ to tell y’all is that I’m not scared of--”

“Scared of whom, darling?” Rarity trotted into the small group of friends, a cup of punch held aloft at her side. Applejack sighed and hung her head, a low groan rumbling through her throat.

“Applejack’s scared of Loki!” Rainbow and Pinkie Pie said at the same time, causing Rarity to gasp melodramatically and look at Applejack, her eyes wide and a hoof pressed to her cheek.

“Applejack! For shame!” Rarity set her cup down on a nearby table. “Loki not only saved Fluttershy’s life, he’s a fugitive in from his homeland! Why, of all ponies, I should think that you would--”

Applejack brought a hoof down on the ground and whinnied, tossing her mane back and forth. Rarity and Pinkie Pie squeaked softly at her friend’s outburst, while Rainbow and Twilight shared a look of surprise and mild worry.

“I said,” Applejack spoke slowly and distinctly, so her friends would not miss a word, “that Loki gives me the creeps. And if y’all would be quiet...I’ll explain why.” She looked out at her friends, waiting to see if they had any more to say before she continued.

“Girls, I pride myself on being able to tell what anypony is thinking and feeling. Y’all know I’m able to sense when one of my friends is havin’ a problem that they need help with. I’m the Element of Honesty, and bein’ an honest pony means I can get a feel for when another pony is or is not tellin’ the truth. Loki...” She looked at the guest of honor, standing in front of the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Sweetie Belle wore his helmet, a few sizes too big, as he prepared his spell.

“Do you think he’s not telling the truth about himself, Applejack? About his past?” Twilight followed her gaze, lowering the volume of her voice for fear that Loki might be listening in on them.

“That’s just the thing, girls. I can’t tell! Usually I can read ponies really well. Loki, I can’t tell if he’s really sad or really lyin’ or nothin’! Lookin’ at him is like lookin’ at some kinda livin’ statue.” Applejack let a shiver crawl through her spine, a shiver she’d been holding back all day, and lowered her head slightly.

“Look, girls,” She said, her voice low and steady so only he fellow Elements could hear. “I’m not saying he’s a bad pony; he saved Fluttershy, so he’s gotta have some good in him. I just don’t think he’s on the level, either. We need to be welcoming, we need to be friendly, just like Princess Celestia would want us to be. We also need to exercise a bit’a caution.”

All of the gathered friends jumped as the room’s temperature took a dip and a loud rapport ricocheted off the book-ridden walls. The five friends looked in Loki’s direction to see him standing in front of a twinkling, gently-creaking ice sculpture, his horn still glowing from the effort of the spell. The sculpture depicted the three Cutie Mark Crusaders, standing on top of a small plinth, each of them raised up on their hindlegs as they appeared to be giving off their usual loud greeting.

The Crusaders hopped around the statue gleefully, praising Loki’s magic and arguing over whose statue was the most awesome. The crowd around the scene rumbled their hooves against the floor in applause. For his part, Loki simply looked on with the same impassive tone he’d had the whole party. Twilight hated to admit it, but looking at him now, with Applejack’s words playing in the back of her mind, she found it hard to suppress a shiver of her own.

“I agree with Applejack...” Came a soft voice from behind Twilight. The five friends turned to see Fluttershy walking up to their small circle, her head held down as she meekly looked out from underneath her mane. She joined her fellow Elements and slowly continued, softly kicking at the floor.

“I know he saved my life. And I’m really, really grateful! But I know he looked like a monster! I just know it! Everypony keeps telling me that it was some kind of illusion, but I know what I saw!” Fluttershy gently stamped a forehoof against the wooden floor before blushing and tilting her head down, trying to hide behind her mane.

“Ya know, ” Applejack said, turning to look at Twilight. “He might be one of them changelings.”

Twilight was taken aback by Applejack’s words, before her logical mind reasserted itself and she shook her head.

“Possible, but unlikely,” Twilight said, raising a hoof in her usual ‘speech-giving’ manner. “Changelings work by replacing ponies that we already know and sneaking into places of power, like the Canterlot Royal Guard. They don’t just appear out of nowhere disguised as a monster, then disguise as somepony we’ve never met. Plus, changelings are very much like insects, so they always travel in groups. It’s a kind of hive mind interaction between them.”

Having listened in on parts of the conversation from the buffet, Spike finally approached his friends, a plate teeming with confections held in one hand. He took a big gulp from the punch cup held in his other hand before he gave the group of friends a disapproving look.

“What is wrong with you ponies, anyway?” He scoffed and popped another piece of cake into his mouth, speaking through it and spitting crumbs everywhere. “He saves Fluttershy’s life, he does great sculptures, and he’s got that way-cool helmet. What’s not to like about him? I think you’re all being a bunch of worry-war--”

Spike’s entire body convulsed, his plate and cup slipping from his hands to splatter all over the floor. His stubby legs were lifted off the ground as a burst of green fire rocketed from his maw with a sickening belch. Twilight grinned as the green flame formed itself into a sealed roll of parchment, the Princess’ Royal Seal tied snug around its center.

“A letter from Princess Celestia!” Twilight levitated the parchment closer and pulled off the seal, unfurling it slowly. “She must have gotten the letter I sent to her about Loki this morning. I wonder why it took her so long to respond.” Outside, the sun was slowly setting in the distance, making way for Princess Luna’s dark night and large crescent moon.

Her friends gathered around her, Twilight began to read the letter aloud.

“My dear Twilight Sparkle,

I apologize for the lateness of my correspondence, as royal duties of utmost importance have been stealing my attentions for most of the day.

Having read your letter and being informed of the events surrounding the arrival of Loki, I wish to extend to Fluttershy my most sincere condolences for her experience. She has my best wishes for a speedy recovery.

On the matter of Loki, I have decided that I wish to meet him and hear an explanation of his origins and intentions here in Equestria. I shall be sending two tickets for the Canterlot Express directly after this letter. I am requesting that you accompany Loki on the 8:15 train to Canterlot tomorrow morning.

I am sure you are giving Loki a warm reception in Ponyville. I hope you enjoy whatever party Pinkie Pie has thrown for him and are not too full from all of her delicious treats to share a luncheon with me after my meeting with Loki.

As always, yours in friendship,

Princess Celestia.”

“So...”

The Elements of Harmony looked up from the letter to see Loki standing before them.

“I am called by your Princess to this Canterlot, am I? Is that the city on a mountain I observed when I first arrived?” Loki raised a hoof and motioned out the window in the general direction of Canterlot. Pinkie Pie grinned and hopped up next to Loki, beaming up at him.

“Uh-huh! Oh, you’re gonna LOVE Canterlot, Loki! It’s so super-duper-cool! It’s got all these neat shops and tons of things to see and eat! Though you don’t want to eat everything you see, ‘cause some of them might hurt your teeth or scream at you or--”

Pinkie Pie’s outburst was stemmed when Twilight shoved a big piece of cake into her mouth. The purple unicorn grinned sheepishly, curling the letter back up and laying it down on a nearby table.

“Yes, Loki,” she said, looking down at the three Cutie Mark Crusaders trotted up beside Loki; Applebloom now sported Loki’s helmet, the lip cast down over her eyes adorably. “Princess Celestia is curious about where you’ve come from and what you’ve got planned now, and she wants to meet with you tomorrow morning.”

Loki bowed his head forward slowly, raising himself back up to his full height. “You may tell your Princess that I RSVP in the extremely positive. I look forward to meeting her, and I hope she is not as horrified by the tale of my past as my party patrons seemed to have been.”

He bowed once again and took his leave of the Elements of Harmony, the Cutie Mark Crusaders hot on his heels, asking a million questions about ice magic, the Avengers, Asgard, and anything else they could think of.

Twilight watched him fade back into the party before shifting about to face her friends. Applejack’s worries and Fluttershy’s confession still hung heavy in the air around them all. Each pony looked at the other, confusion and doubt playing across their faces, before all eyes turned to Twilight. The added weight of responsibility settled over Twilight's shoulders as she saw those expectant gazes.

“Oh no.” Spike groaned, holding his stomach in dismay. “Not again. Not so soo--” Twilight turned to look at her assistant as Spike’s body was wracked with another wave of magic-induced nausea, green flames shooting out of his mouth to materialize as a pair of small black-with-red-trim tickets. Catching them with her levitation spell, Twilight could see that one ticket had her name neatly inscribed upon it, while the other bore Loki’s name.

Applejack straightened her hat out and put on a small smile, walking up to press a hoof to Twilight’s shoulder. “Don’t get too worried over what I said, sugarcube,” she said, that smile widening as Twilight looked up at her. “I’m sure I’m just bein’ a worry-wart. But in case I’m not, Princess Celestia will be able to do somethin’ about Loki. Now c’mon, everypony! This is a party for Fluttershy, too! Let’s have some fun!”

Applejack trotted off into the crowd, heading for the Pin the Tail on the Pony board, which coincidentally was the game closest to her younger sister and Loki. Pinkie Pie hopped after her, while Rainbow Dash took wing and headed right for the punch bowl. Rarity made a beeline for Loki, hoping to strike up a conversation that might mitigate whatever damage she might have done earlier.

Twilight watched them all leave, emotions rumbling over one another inside her. She was about to take off for a slice of cake to calm herself before she heard a small cough from behind her. Fluttershy moved up beside Twilight, looking up at her from behind that soft pink mane. After a few seconds of stumbling over her words, the yellow pegasus was finally able to speak.

“Um, you believe me, right, Twilight? About Loki? Nopony will listen to me. They keep saying that I bumped my head and I became confused...” She sighed softly, kicking at the wooden floor. Twilight smiled softly and draped a forelimb over her friend’s neck, pulling her in close for a gentle hug.

“Don’t worry, Fluttershy,” she said. “Whatever’s going on with Loki, the Princess will be able to sort things out. He might have some kind of magic to disguise himself, but she’ll be able to see through it.” Despite her reassurances, Fluttershy let out another small sigh.

“She wasn’t able to see through Chrysalis’ disguise, or the changelings...” Fluttershy said. A hot blush ran through her cheeks and she brought a hoof up to her mouth as she realized exactly what she had said.

“Oh my, um, that was really mean of me. I’m so sorry, Twilight. I, um, I think I’m going to go eat some cake. Princess Celestia will take care of Loki.” Fluttershy bit her bottom lip and quickly ran back into the crowd, leaving Twilight all by herself.

Twilight Sparkle moved to one of the windows of her house, a window that faced toward Canterlot. Standing up on her hindlegs, she pressed herself against the window, staring out across the gulf of miles that separated her library from her hometown. Set into the mountainside, Canterlot gleamed softly in the twilight sun, barely visible through the haze of distance. For a time she just stood there, staring at the center of her nation, her mind puzzling over the events of the past few hours.

Twilight pushed herself off from the window and turned to rejoin the party. As Applejack had said, this was also a party for Fluttershy, and Twilight didn’t want to mope around on the edges when she could be somewhere inside, talking with her friends, playing games, and having a good time.

Whatever Loki’s intentions and nature were, Twilight thought to herself as she walked through the party toward the buffet, Princess Celestia will surely be able find a solution.

Twilight hoped she would be able to, anyway.

Author's Note

Revised Edition, 25/4/13

A Day in Canterlot, Part 1

"8:55 train from Ponyville now arriving at Deck C. I repeat: the 8:55 train from Ponyville is now arriving at Deck C." The soothing, feminine tones of the station announcer crackled through the speakers strewn about the train decks. Across the massive expanse, ponies young and old checked for directions, making their way toward their desired deck.

At one end of Canterlot Central Station, an array of tunnels were arranged in a line. Out of the darkness of one of the tunnels, the blast of a train whistle cuts through the low roar of a hundred conversations. Slowly, the Ponyville Express Train rumbles its away out of its tunnel, steam billowing around its pastel-colored engine.

Blasting forth air as pneumatic brake lines vented their excess pressure, the train finally came to rest at Deck C. With a call of 'end of the line', the conductor threw a switch, causing the sliding doors on each car to pull back. Bustling, chatting ponies spilled forth, pegasi taking wing as they were freed from their claustrophobic confines.

A particular pair of ponies brought up the rear of the exodus. Twilight Sparkle smiled and talked excitedly as she brought her hooves down on the familiar wooden planks of the deck. Her nostrils flared as she took in a deep draught, the Canterlot air tickling her senses. She could smell the exotic flowers of the gardens, baked treats being sold out in the markets, and that subtle, undefinable scent that marked one's birthplace. Her heart swelled in her chest, and she had the fight back the urge to dance in place.

Taking up a spot beside her was a pony whose presence garnered more than a fair share of second glances. Wearing what appeared to be a more angular, embellished version of the Royal Guard armor over a dark green shirt, the unicorn Loki stood beside Twilight, his magenta eyes slowly scanning the crowd milling about. As ever, his handsome face was set and impassive, lending the stallion an air of aristocracy from which not even his great horned helmet could detract.

Flicking his tail, that motion causing his green cape to flutter gently, he turned to look down at Twilight. "I believe you were saying something before we arrived, Twilight Sparkle. Something about that Discord character of which you spoke during our trip." Loki's stone-set face didn't move as Twilight jumped at his words, a blush lighting up her cheeks as her ears lay flat against her head.

"Sorry about that, Loki," she spoke, her voice low with embarrassment. Resolving to give in to her nostalgic tendencies at a later time, she took off across the deck, turning to Loki as he took up the stride beside her. "Well, where was I?" Pressing a hoof to her chin, she puzzled for a second before her face lit up with a smile. "Oh, yes! So, I was packing up to leave Ponyville forever. But then—"

Loki kept his attentions split between listening to Twilight's story and taking stock of his surroundings. The size and scope of the train station were made to be impressive, embellished with towering reliefs cut into the walls which depicted great moments in Equestrian history. Directly above the cavernous exit, the Elements of Harmony were shown in all their glory, directly opposing their three great villains: Discord, the God of Chaos, his odd form bent backwards as he cackled in manic glee; Chrysalis, Queen of the Changelings, her twisted, almost rotting form matching her black soul; and finally Nightmare Moon, reared up on her hind legs, mouth open to reveal great fangs. Upon closer inspection, Loki noticed two extra ponies carved into the relief behind the six Elements: what appeared to be a unicorn stallion in a suit of armor and an alicorn, the two of them contorted to appear as two halves of a stylized heart.

Twilight's story came to a swift end as they approached the exit, moving with the crowd of ponies streaming out on the right side. Warm sunlight washed over the pair as Twilight raised a forelimb, grinning with barely-contained pride. "Loki," she said, "welcome to Canterlot!" Now through the archway, the crush of bodies around them thinned out, allowing Loki to take in the fullness of his new surroundings. They had exited into a large, circular plaza through which what looked like thousands of ponies walked. Tall trees waved, their roots buried into small patches of grass allowed to grow in small islands throughout the hub. White stone covered the ground, its satin sheen reflecting the light of Celestia's sun. Vendors hawked their wares at the edges of the plaza, right next to performers showing off their tricks to happy foals and their parents. At the center of the plaza, a large fountain blasted jets of water into the sky, creating a humid mist that poured over the ponies milling about, keeping them cool even in the growing heat of the day.

Beyond the open space, towering high above the pointed roofs of Canterlot's many buildings, the Royal Palace dominated the skyline. Banners fluttered in the high breeze atop the massive edifice, its sheer smooth-stone walls decorated with fanciful, light-hearted embellishments. Even from this distance, the pair could observe the staircase leading to tall double doors, small specks of white and gold standing on either side of the palace entrance.

As Loki approached the fountain, Twilight by his side, his eyes came to rest on a curious statue standing at its center. It seemed to be a statue of Discord, yet the pose confused him; it looked as if the creature were in some sort of distress, its body contorted, his maw open in an eternal scream. Turning, he questioned Twilight with a raised eyebrow and a motion of his hoof. Catching his meaning, Twilight grinned. "Yes, that's him, frozen in stone by the Elements of Harmony. Princess Celestia decided it was a better idea to keep him closer to home, just in case."

A deep, resonant bell suddenly tolled throughout the kingdom, calling attention back to the train station. Twilight's ears laid back against her head as she stared at the gigantic clock face set into the station's outer stonework. Its arms indicated 9 AM. "Oh no, oh no," Twilight whispered, turning to Loki with a wild look in her eye. "We're gonna be late! Come on, Loki!" She took off without a second glance to her compatriot, her breath coming in short, quick gulps. Loki, never one to be slow on the uptake, shot after her, strong leg muscles propelling him the short distance he needed in order to take his place by her side once again.

Through the streets of Canterlot they raced, darting past ponies, carts, and outdoor restaurant tables alike in their haste. The streets twisted and turned with no real rhyme or reason, the modern cobblestone streets having been placed more or less in congruence with ancient paths that followed their own strange logic. At long last, the two of them passed by a clockmaker's corner store to find themselves only a few hundred yards from the palace. Panting, Twilight paused but a moment to check on her companion before darting across the castle's verdant gardens, Loki in tow.

Taking the steps two at a time, Twilight was a panting, sweating mess by the time she reached the imposing palace doors. The two white-furred pegasus guards closed in on the pair as they approached, faces set in a permanent scowl which softened fractionally when they saw who was standing before them. Twilight sucked in deep gasps, speaking breathlessly. "Twilight Sparkle and Loki to see Princess Celestia, please." The guard to her left raised his forehoof to knock twice, the sound magnified through the thick wooden door. The sound of metal against wood scraped against their ears as titanic internal locks pulled back, the doors slowly creaking open enough to reveal a single unicorn-shaped figure.

Stepping out from between the doors, Shining Armor smiled down at his baby sister. The white unicorn wore a specially-made version of the standard issue Royal Guard armor, its surface lacquered in a deep, royal purple with golden trim to accent its rich color. His messy blue mane fluttered in the wind as he raised a forehoof to Twilight's shoulder, giving her a playful nudge. "Hey, Twily. From the looks of things, you're still afraid of being tardy." Twilight smiled sheepishly in response, before tightly embracing her older brother in a warm hug. Loki observed coolly, a dissembling, impassive expression settling into his face like a well-worn garment.

Brother and sister finally pulled back from their loving embrace, Twilight's blush deepening at the memory of her traveling companion. "Sorry Loki." Twilight offered a weak laugh, turning to gesture between the two stallions. "Loki, meet my big brother Shining Armor, Captain of the Canterlot Royal Guard. Shining, this is Loki Odinson of Asgard, the visitor from the sky I wrote to Celestia about."

Shining smiled as he stepped forward, offering his forehoof to Loki. "Nice to meet you, Loki." Loki's face remained set in stone as he took in Shining Armor's gormless face, his downright stolid voice, and the naivete that seemed to come to ponies as natural as breathing.

"A pleasure," Loki responded, reaching out his own hoof and touching it to Shining's. Pleasantries thus exchanged, Loki found he could not help himself. "It is rather interesting that you are Twilight Sparkle's brother, as you remind me so much of my own brother. Before he turned against me, of course." Shining's face lit up with a grin, and Loki returned it as the Captain thanked him for the compliment. The three trotted through the doors, some unseen doorkeeper swinging them shut behind them as they disappeared into the Royal Palace.

The enormity of the castle's foyer was enough to bring Loki pause. Great columns ran the length of the oval-shaped hall, colorful banners strung high between them. Across a large patch of plush-looking carpeting, a large staircase rose up half the length of the back wall before splitting off, turning into two smaller sets of stairs that lead off into other wings of the palace. Emblazoned on the wall across from the group of ponies was a mural depicting the sister Princesses which governed their realm, curled into each other in a facsimile of an ancient emblem of balance.

Their hooves padding mutely across the thick carpeting, Twilight turned a curious eye on her brother. "Where's Princess Celestia," she asked, brow creasing, her voice edged with anxiety. "We didn't miss her, did we?"

Shining chuckled, shaking his head as he began to ascend the staircase. "Nah, don't be silly, Twily. She'd never leave a guest of the kingdom hanging. She actually sent me down here to tell you two to wait here for a while. She's in a meeting with some envoy from Stalliongrad right now and it's taking longer than planned." Shining motioned up the left staircase, his smile turning apologetic. "I've got some duties of my own to check on, Twily. But hey, if you're still in town later, maybe we can grab a bite at Pony Joe's."

Twilight's face fell, her ears drooping. She ascended the staircase and grabbed her brother in a tight hug, her smile returning as he returned that warm embrace. Once released, Shining nodded at Loki, who returned the motion with a minimal incline of his head, before galloping up the stairs and out of sight. A strange quiet settled over the cavernous entry hall, Loki turning to observe the tall banners strung between the room's tall columns. Each banner depicted some scene from the history of Equestria, only a few of which Loki could name: the founding of Canterlot, the corruption of Princess Luna into Nightmare Moon, the discovery of the Elements of Harmony.

"Loki?" Twilight's voice cut across the silence, the god in disguise turning to face her. She shifted in place, pursing her lips and tossing her mane back absently. "I've been meaning to ask something for a while now: why did you wear your armor today? I mean, here in Equestria, we do wear clothes and armor, but only on special occasions or if we're in the military. I was just curious." It took only a split second for Loki to concoct a reason for wearing his armor, but before he could give that half-truth voice, another's radiant tones called their attention to staircase's apex.

"The same reason anypony dresses well in a new location, my faithful student." Princess Celestia's regal presence seemed to fill the room as much as her sun filled their world with warmth and light. Shining Armor's white fur seemed a dull grey compared with the luminous coat the Sun Goddess possessed. Multi-hued mane fluttered in a non-existent breeze, a portion covering her eye and gifting her with a mysterious quality. Descending the staircase on custom-made shoes as golden as her tiara, she directed a warm smile at Twilight, whose confused expression bade her continue with her answer. "In order to make a good first impression, of course."

"Princess!" Twilight's child-like joy at the sight of her mentor could have warmed any heart, the smaller pony galloping up to press herself against the taller, slimmer alicorn. Celestia bent her neck down, extending a wing to wrap around her student's body. "It's so good to see you, Princess Celestia," she continued, pulling back and beaming up at her matronly ruler before moving back and gesturing behind her. "As your faithful student and protege, I am honored to present to you the newest guest of Equestria: Loki Odinson of Asgard."

Bringing himself up to his full height, Loki approached Princess Celestia without fear. Bringing his neck back, he held his head back at an aristocratic angle before he bent his forelimbs down, bowing before the Princess while dipping his head low. "I can assure you, Princess, that the honor is entirely my own. Your student Twilight has given you much of which to be proud these past days. She and her friends have shown me the friendliness and grace of your nation." Rising back to a standing position, he forced a look of somber anxiety. "I am prepared to once again relate the story of my origins as you have requested, Princess Celestia."

Celestia's smile turned into a dazzling grin, her pink eyes twinkling with maternal empathy. "I thank you for coming to meet me, Loki of Asgard. Before we get to your story, let's adjourn to someplace other than my castle's drafty foyer. I don't want us catching a cold." She gave a small laugh, one which Twilight echoed. As one, the three ascended the stairs, Loki following behind teacher and student as the two led him deeper into the palace.

A long, thin hallway greeted Loki's eyes as he crested the top of the stairs, paintings lining the walls to his right while windows let in warm streams of sunlight to his left. At the midpoint of the hallway, warmly red double doors opened at the command of Celestia's glowing horn. Beyond the entrance, a comfortable, almost casual meeting hall had been arranged, with a low circular table in the center, as well as a small spread of tea and various snack cakes. Seating herself at the far end of the table, Celestia made to pour herself some tea before Twilight's horn glowed, the unicorn smiling happily as she poured.

Seating himself opposite the pair, Loki watched as his hosts settled down, working to keep his face as impassive as ever. Twilight fussed over Celestia as a loving daughter would her own mother, apologizing profusely for spilling a bit of the tea over the edge of Celestia's cup. The Princess simply laughed, telling Twilight not to worry about it. The small scene was over in a few seconds, and yet it was all Loki could do to keep from angrily digging a furrow in the floor with a forehoof. He smiled and nodded appreciatively when he was offered tea, activating his levitation spell to bring the cup closer and taking a sip of the surprisingly delicious liquid.

"Now then," Celestia sighed happily as she placed her empty cup down, the glow of her horn dying down. "I think we've settled in properly. Loki, you have the floor whenever you'd like to begin." Under the scrutiny of the eyes of not only the nation's ruler, but her prized student, Loki settled back fully on his haunches. His godly mind raced, swiftly recollecting and efficiently collating the lies he had told to Twilight and her partygoers less than twenty-four hours before.

The tale started as it had the night before, Loki's impervious mask melting as he slipped easily into the role of a deposed king. False memories were recalled and spilled forth, his inflection and tone shifting at the appropriate moments in the story. Throughout his recitation, he kept his eyes on Celestia, measuring her response as best he could. Sat down on her haunches with her strange mane flowing out beside her, the Princess of the Day never once changed her expression. Even as he began to expound on the nature of his banishment and exile, Celestia's face remained neutral as her statues scattered about the kingdom. At odd intervals, her long horn glowed and her cup levitated to her lips, her dainty sip barely audible over Loki's monologue.

"The strange beast slain, I tried to attend to Fluttershy's wounds." Loki lifted his own cup to take a sip, the fur on the back of his neck standing on end as the warm liquid met his parched throat. "However, skittish as I was having just barely escaped my brother's wrath, the arrival of her friends sent me into hiding. Once I saw that this realm also contained ponies, I made all haste to Ponyville in order to reveal myself." Turning his expression downcast, he pulled in a breath and let it out in a slow sigh. "I suppose it is rather foolish of me to be so naive as to reveal myself to ponies whom I did not know at the time. Despite recent events, I always try to hope for the best in any new person I meet, pony or otherwise." Loki tilted his head back up, trying to assess Celestia's reactions. Her face continuing in its immovable neutrality, he pressed on. "Now I come here, to officially request asylum in Equestria."

Celestia's horn glowed, her teacup floating to her lips and tilting back to empty the contents down her throat. With a soft sigh, she replaced the cup onto its saucer, tilting her head to regard her student. The princess' neutral face ebbed away like the tide from a beach, her voice turning motherly and doting. "Twilight, I am sure you have much to tell me on your lessons in friendship that can't be contained in a letter. I would love to catch up with you, and I would be very appreciative if you'd wait for me in my private chambers."

Switching her attentions to Loki, Celestia's eyes narrowed imperceptibly. Twilight followed her line of sight, gazing at her new friend before looking back at her mentor. Fighting the chill trying to work its way down her spine, she rose to all fours and hastily excused herself. Trotting to the doorway, she favored Loki with a single glance over her shoulder, brows knitted and bottom lip caught between her teeth.

With a small rapport of wood against metal, the double doors shut behind Twilight, leaving Loki Odinson alone with Princess Celestia of Equestria. Time stretched thin as the two sized each other up from across a table still set up for a pleasant morning tea.

"Loki," Celestia spoke, shattering the growing tension between them. "Have you had a chance to review Equestrian law since you've arrived?"

"Unfortunately I have not yet had that pleasure." Loki struggled through the urge to worriedly count at the ground.

"Am I correct in assuming that Asgard exists or existed under the rule of law?"

"Yes, Princess. However, I am unsure what this has to do with--"

"Was it a crime to lie to the king?"

Once voiced, the question hung around Loki's neck like an anchor to a ship's prow. His heartbeat quickened, the fur on the back of his neck threatened once again. He forced his breathing into slow, methodical cycles, digging a forehoof down into the carpet. "Yes. Deception is a practice decidedly at odds with the running of a peaceful kingdom. Those foolish enough to practice it against the King of Asgard were corrected accordingly."

Celestia's impartiality broke as a small smile stole across her face. With a flourish, she spread her wings out to their full expanse, pushing up onto all fours. "We have many laws in Equestria," she continued, beginning a slow walk around the table. "Laws against murder, against theft, against rape. I have come to think that all societies share similar laws, differing only in the degree of the punishment.

"In Equestria, however, lying to myself or my sister is not a crime. It has never been a crime so long as I have ruled, and I see little reason to change that stance now. As a fellow ruler, you might be wondering why I would allow my own subjects the privilege of deceiving me." Celestia's trip had brought her to stand beside Loki, her graceful form towering over him. "It has been my experience, Loki, that those who tell lies will one day have those lies catch up to them without the intervention of the law. With that knowledge, creating an official punishment seems excessive.

"Now I am not entirely sure what parts of your story are fabricated and what parts are true. I am inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt." Loki's shoulders sagged the tiniest sliver, the fur of his neck slowly laying flat once again. Celestia continued, stretching her neck forward to stare down at him. "What you said in an attempt to endear yourself to me, I say with conviction: I look for the best in every person I meet, be they pony, griffin, horse, or donkey." With a quick flap, Celestia tucked her wings back against her body. "You saved my Element of Kindness at risk to life and limb. According to the grapevine from Ponyville you've been a model citizen for the two days you've been in our world. So long as this behavior continues, we won't have any problems."

Before Loki could relax any further, Celestia pressed even closer, multicolored mane shifting so those pale magenta eyes could stare directly into Loki's own. "I must tell you," she said, her voice trading its practiced impartiality for an edge of menace. "I take the safety and quality of life of my little ponies extremely seriously. We have all worked quite hard to create a loving and harmonious society, and it has endured thanks in no small part to how efficiently I deal with those who may threaten it." Sweat beaded at Loki's temples as he absently noted that the tea in his cup was beginning to boil.

As suddenly as she was invading his space, Celestia retreated, drawing her head back and assuming her usual cool, collected composure. "Have I made myself perfectly clear, Loki?"

Loki had to clear his throat before he could answer, the ghost of a frown threatening his lips before he fought it down. "Inescapably, undeniably crystal clear, Princess Celestia."

Almost before the phrase of contrition left his lips, Celestia's posture relaxed and her face changed expression as easily as one might change a parcel of clothing. As she had been with Twilight, she was now all smiles, her warm voice completing that image of benign, matronly authority. "Thank you, Loki." Her horn glowed, the teapot tipping to refill her cup before she called that small bit of china over, holding it aloft in an incomplete toast. Loki responded with his own cup, steam still wafting from the cooling liquid inside. Celestia raised her cup higher, smile turning into a grin. "On this day, it shall be written that Loki Odinson the unicorn is now a naturalized citizen of Equestria, with all rights, privileges, and responsibilities both explicit and implied." With a sound like a small bell ringing, their cups touched and they drank.

The midmorning sun beat down on Loki's coat, a constant reminder of the pressure cooker from which he had just escaped. The conversation with Celestia less than half an hour behind him, the Princess's words still hung around his mind like annoying pests too small to properly shoo away. His mind kept recalling the image of his teacup's contents boiling, the heat of the sun at his back not doing anything to help cool his thoughts.

The gardens surrounding the Royal Palace were alive with activity, pony and animal alike. Gardeners tended to their small flower patches while landscapers moved simple mechanical grass clippers to and fro across gently rolling hills. Up in the trees, birds of all shapes and sizes sat in nests, made mating calls, and picked at the exotic fruits of imported trees. Loki moved through the lush grove with nary a second glance at the natural beauty on display, his strange armor attracting a few glances that he refused to acknowledge.

Time slipped away from him as he stewed in his own thoughts, only brought back to reality when he felt strange, drooping leaves brushing across his face. Taking a step back, he raised a forehoof to his face, brushing the leaves aside. Before him stood a massive Weeping Willow tree, the long leaves hanging down to the ground and obscuring its trunk. The glare of the sun reflected off a lawn clipping machine pushed by an Earth stallion, causing Loki to wince and let out a small, frustrated grunt. The weeping willow's leaves made a soft susuruss as he parted the hair-like strands, moving into the dark, cool interior and away from that ever present daystar.

Behind the veil of the willow's leaves, the air cooled considerably, dim light streaming through between the strands and cascading across Loki's body to give him a strangely striped appearance. The trunk stood old and gnarled at center, strings of dead leaves surrounding its roots. Small inscriptions, both old and new, peppered its bark skin – confessions of love, poems, offers for various unsavory services. Loki stared up at the ancient hardwood, closing his eyes and letting out a rush of air in a slow, relaxed sigh.

With a few short steps, he lowered himself onto his stomach, pressing his flank against the smooth bark of the willow. Tucking his limbs underneath him, Loki let his eyes slide shut, turning his mind's eye inward and toward the task of sorting his tangled, chaotic thoughts. Perhaps here, thought he, there could be found some small respite. The noise of the world outside began to ebb away, centuries of experience enabling him to focus only on what was truly important.

Rapid hooffalls preceded the canopy of leaves whispering apart, drawing Loki from his contemplative fugue. No sooner had his eyes opened than they were filled with a bright, reflective red not too far removed from his magenta eyes. A shocked gasp escaping his throat, reflex pulled back on his neck, allowing him to see the pony now standing before him. Her coat a pale cerulean, she stood balanced on her forehooves, hindquarters teetering in the air before falling back down to the soft grass. Loki scrambled to get his hooves under him, preparing a defensive spell in readiness for an attack.

"I, Photo Finish, knew I saw a new pony crossing the gardens!" Her posh, accented voice perfectly matched her well-coiffed grey mane and striped dress. Eyes hidden behind red glasses studied Loki intently before she raised a forehoof to her chest. "I, Photo Finish, know everypony who is anypony in Canterlot, and I, Photo Finish, can tell that you are a pony of a superior fashion sense. Your armor is bold, yet reserved!"

Before Loki could follow her, Photo Finish had zipped around to his side, lifting his cape with a hoof. "Regal and yet unpretentious!" Loki turned to try to get her in his sights, only to feel her on his other side, yanking on one of his helmet's horns. "And these horns! Ach, stupendous! Only a pony of wealth and taste could wear such ostentatious attire! You simply must accompany me to--"

At that moment, a blue-gray pony slipped through the thin leaf wall, cutting Photo's sentence short. Leaves caught in his fluffed, curled white mane, drawing a grumbled complaint as he pushed himself through. Readjusting the frilled collar adorning his neck, he turned a withering gaze on the blue fashionista.

"Photo, dear, I simply must protest," he spoke in his own deliberate, aristocratic tones. "This running off at anypony in a nice suit is going to make us late to the party." Gracing Loki with a gaze, he raised a hoof to slide his sunglasses down his nose. A slow smile made his bluish eyes light up. "Then again, I do suppose we can be fashionably late. I am none other than Hoity Toity, premiere fashion critic of Canterlot."

"Loki of Asgard," Loki responded, the words spilling from his muzzle haphazardly. Caught on his back hoof, he pushed forward and spoke before his newest high-toned intruder could start fawning over him again. "There is a simple explanation for your lack of familiarity with me: I am new to Equestria, having recently emigrated from my homeland. In fact, I have just come from a meeting with Princess Celestia."

"You've met the Princess?" Photo Finish exchanged a look with Hoity.

"How long have you been in Equestria, might I inquire?" Hoity Toity took a step forward, an eyebrow raised.

"This will be my third day in Equestria, I believe."

"Three days?" Hoity Toity's eyes were wide behind his designer shades. "You mean to tell me you arranged an audience with Princess Celestia herself after only three days in Equestria?"

"It will be less shocking," Loki explained, "when you know that the first ponies I met and befriended when I arrived would be the Elements of Harmony."

"Ach!" Photo's shades nearly flew off her face as she slapped a hoof against her cheek. "And he is already friends with the Elements of Harmony! Hoity, we cannot afford to allow him to be seen at the party with anypony else!"

"I think you are getting ahead of yourselves." Loki could not stop a sharp edge of annoyance from leaking into his voice. "I do not even know what this party is all about. Even if I did, I can assure you that I am most definitely not a 'party' sort of pony."

Photo laughed, shaking her head. "I, Photo Finish, find myself without manners today. The party is to celebrate the retirement of the head archivist of the Canterlot Royal Library."

"He is an old earth pony named Tattered Page," Hoity added. "Why, I don't think there's pony alive in Canterlot who doesn't know him. I, myself, have made extensive use of his large collection of foreign fashion magazines."

"And I, Photo Finish, would never have been able to reach the heights of the fashion photography world without his help locating books on exotic camera techniques."

"Loki, connections are everything in Canterlot." Hoity motioned toward the palace with a wide, sweeping gesture. "You've already made quite a large one. However, appearing at this party and wishing Tattered a happy retirement would do wonders for your station. Take it from a professional in the world of high society: you do not want to miss this."

Loki stifled the laugh that threatened. Recovering quickly, he made as if to think it over, hoofing his chin pensively. Letting the seconds drag on, he allowed himself a moment of amusement at the hopeful looks on the socialites' faces.

"Very well." Loki made for the weeping willow's veil, blue magic parting the curtain so the three of them could exit its shaded interior. "As you said, Hoity: connections are important. Beside the point, it would be bad manners to refuse an invitation to such an auspicious event."

"Splendid!" Hoity fell in on Loki's left, his usual blasé attitude replaced with the giddiness of a schoolcolt. "Oh, to be seen with such a vogue stallion. What a wonderful affair this shall be." As they walked, Hoity moved closer to the newcomer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "If I may be so bold; tell me you have not yet been engaged to have your armor's aesthetic turned into the latest fashion sensation."

Loki blinked, his usual deliberate manner receiving a hairline fracture when he raised an eyebrow to regard Hoity with a confused stare. Had Hoity the eye for it, he might have seen the flurry of emotions washing over Loki's face. Milliseconds after the question was posed, said emotions had been hastily protected behind a wall of aloof disinterest. "Unfortunately I have already contracted the services of another. I'm sure the two of you are well-acquainted with Rarity of Ponyville."

Photo let out an indignant sniff. "But of course. She is the best seamstress Ponyville has to offer. I, Photo Finish, find her to lay on the jewels and baubles far too thick."

"Are you sure I can't tempt you away, Loki?" Hoity's smile and sudden proximity sent a cold shiver down Loki's back, memories of Jottenheim rising unbidden to his mind. "Rarity may be an excellent designer, but she doesn't have the advantages of my fame and wealth."

"I appreciate the concern," Loki lied, "but I still have to decline. Rarity is my friend and I would not want to break a promise I made to her, for any price."

Hoity clucked his tongue, flinty eyes studying Loki from behind shades worth more bits than Rarity could dream of making in a day. Moments of consideration passed before a throaty chuckle escaped his throat, a genuine smile lighting up his aristocratic features. "It is rather refreshing to see somepony who will do the honorable thing, even at a cost to themselves. Have it your way, Loki; though indulge me a favor and tell Rarity that Hoity Toity will order a dozen of any clothing she derives from your ensemble. I do believe they shall be sensational in my Prench show next month."

Loki returned that smile, his own just shy of reaching his eyes. "I'm sure she'll be quite pleased. Such an order shall most certainly bring good fortune to her business."

The three ponies moved on across the rolling green hills of the gardens, Photo and Hoity excitedly expounding upon their expectations for the party. It wasn't until a rare moment of silence between them that it was noticed that their new guest was no longer present. Standing motionless a few feet behind the pair, head turned over his shoulder, Loki gaze was locked firmly on the spiraling parapets of the royal palace.

Photo spoke up first, her voice lacking its usual raw confidence. "Is something the matter?" Silence followed her question, the gold-armored pony scanning his magenta eyes over the crenelations and balconies dotting the sleek towers and wide, imperious walls. As the seconds dragged on to an uncomfortable length, he shifted to face his new acquaintances, his expression cloudy and undefined.

"Nothing to worry about," he mused, more to himself than for the benefit of Hoity and Photo. "Just for a moment, I had the feeling I was being watched. I think we should make for the party with all haste. This heat might be getting to me." He was rewarded with a round of indulgent laughter that set his teeth on edge as he forced himself to continuing that interminable trek to the retirement party. Even as they crossed over from the open green hills of the garden and into the cool shade of a copse of trees, that feeling of being watched still nagged at Loki's mind like a parasite lodged in a sensitive area. A force of will exerted over his mind, he pushed that feeling aside and prepared himself for the suffering that was to come. Perhaps, thought he, it would be wise on Princess Celestia's part to outlaw parties on the basis of cruel and unusual suffering.

The tall, thin towers of the royal palace swayed slightly in the high breezes, their ancient structures designed to bend to the force of the wind lest they break and topple over onto the unsuspecting functionaries below. Some of the towers housed stacks of scrolls and codices, ancient texts and law gathering dust and tended to by the lowliest of servants. Others bore great art and architecture depicting the history of Equestria before and after the coming of the Alicorns.

One such tower overlooking the gardens was decorated in the style of a personal living space. Star maps were pinned to the walls, elaborate movements of star clusters, constellations, and falling stars mapped out in bright red ink. Scrolls and parchment overflowed on an ancient desk sitting opposite a soft, comfortable queen-sized bed fitted with the finest dark blue sheets, tossed and rumpled from a recent slumber. The roof allowed a clear view of the sky above, thin sheets of glass polished to near-perfect transparency.

A wide door led outside to a spacious balcony, on which stood a tripod-mounted telescope. Its ancient, burnished-brass body usually turned heavenward, today its owner had it tilted down toward the gardens, following the movements of the gold-and-green clad unicorn about whom so much fuss had been made. One eye closed, Luna the Princess of the Night watched Loki through her telescope, dark-furred body standing perfectly still in an unconscious attempt at stealth.

"So that's the immigrant," she whispered to herself. "He doesn't look like much. I do wonder why sister seemed in such a bother over him." As if the universe has a comically perfect sense of timing, it was at that moment that Loki stopped and turned, staring right up at her telescope with his intense magenta eyes. Luna's heart leaped into her throat and she jerked back, jaw gaping with a gasp. Her wings spread out and puffed themselves up in muscle response, the princess backing away a few paces to try and slow her breathing.

A slow, sly smile crept over her face as she tucked her wings back against her body. "So that's what all the fuss is about," she breathed, stepping up to her telescope and resuming her spying. "I'm going to have to keep a close eye on you, immigrant. Let's hope you don't disappoint after such an exemplary first impression."

Author's Note

Revised Edition, 01/05/13

Some Re-Assembly Required

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bacey," Tony Stark quipped as he strolled into the top floor of the Stark Tower. "Daddy's home and he's got good news." The black-haired billionaire's stride was confident even in the low light.

The lights blinked on, flooding Tony's eyes with their sterile, humming warmth. Stealing a glance at the wall just opposite him, Tony cracked a smile as he saw the battered remains of the Mk. VII armor. Encased in a vacuum-sealed glass cage, the armor stood sentinel over Tony's workspace.

"Good afternoon to you, too, sir," Jarvis' dry voice resounded from everywhere at once. "What is the good news this afternoon? Crash another expensive racing car, perhaps?" The darkly-tinted windows faded clear, letting in the bright mid-afternoon sun.

"Well, technically it's morning somewhere all the time." Tony smirked, the gesture magnified by his signature, angular goatee. Setting down his breakfast of Starbucks coffee and a danish, he continued. "Also, that thing about the car? I didn't actually crash that." Taking a bite of his danish, he spoke through a mouthful of crumbs. "It was kind of whipped out from under me. No, the good news is you've got a bouncing baby sister going up in Hong Kong."

Sliding his hands out, palms down, Tony pulled up the holographic interface of Stark Tower. Manipulating files and directories with his fingertips, he pulled up a three-dimensional model of a tower even larger than the one in which he stood. Its design was much more in keeping with an Asiatic sense of style, sleek walls and modern glass mixed with classical Chinese architecture.

"The best one yet," Tony continued, walking around his hologram with a smirk. "It'll run itself for three years, more or less. Thirty stories taller, and with a version of you that speaks perfect Cantonese in a calming female voice." Picking up his coffee, Tony took a sip. Almost immediately, he spit it back out, the image of the tower wavering. "Dammit. Never going there again. That's whole milk, not two percent."

"An excellent development, sir," Jarvis stated, ignoring Tony's outburst with programmed ease. "Counting the ones in Berlin, Tokyo, and London, that would make four."

"Five," Tony corrected, taking another sip of his coffee with a grimace. "Counting this one. Though we probably shouldn't, as this is still technically a prototype." Stuffing nearly half of the danish into his mouth, he spoke as crumbs flew from his lips. "We should probably install one of the new Arc reactors in here soon. We're gonna run out of juice on..." Tony checked his watch. "Tuesday."

"Very good, sir." Jarvis pulled up a holographic map of the month, a specific date standing out in red. "Shall I pencil in a call to Ms. Potts to make the arrangements?"

Tony nearly choked on his coffee. "Ms. Potts. Yeah. I was gonna give her a call. Crap." He ran a hand through his short black hair, running through his holographic matrix to grab up his telephone. He sat back on his large, black leather couch, setting the phone down on the glass coffee table in front of him. "Jarvis, get Pepper on the line."

"Sir?" Jarvis queried, even as her picture appeared on Tony's phone above capital letters reading CONNECTING. "Sir, it's 2 AM in Hong Kong. Don't you think we should—"

"Tony?" Pepper's voice sounded distant as her video feed came up on his phone. The sound of shuffling was followed by a blinding light, illuminating her as she sat up in her hotel bed. Her red hair was a mess, falling in strings around a thin, freckled face puffy with tiredness.

"Woah, hey." Tony raised his eyebrows, an amused smile teasing at the sides of his mouth. "I'm looking for Pepper Potts. She looks a lot like you, but she's usually more, hmm, awake. And not quite so disheveled-looking."

Pepper sighed, blowing some of the hair out of her face to fix Tony with an icy stare. "Tony, you always know how to make me feel better about myself." Sitting herself up, she picked up her phone and brought it closer, brushing her dazzling red hair out of her face.

"See, now you look more like Pepper," Tony retorted, sipping at his coffee. "Because you look like you want to kill me. And, um, in a very painful fashion from the looks of things."

"I'm envisioning something along the lines of pliers and toenails, yes." Pepper smiled, laying her cheek in her hand. "So why is the great Tony Stark calling me at two in the morning?"

"Two in the afternoon," Tony corrected, finishing off his danish and wiping his hands together. "Jeez, where are you, China? Anyway, just calling to see how the talks are coming with the People's Republic. Is their building code just as backwards as I remember?"

"No, no. Things are getting better, actually." Pepper slid a hand through her hair, her voice taking on Jarvis's dry wittiness. "I was only congratulated on being good for a capitalist ten times instead of twenty."

"Wow, things have been getting better." Tony sipped his coffee, stealing a glance over at his minibar. "Any word on Madrid?"

"Tony," Pepper sighed, "you didn't just call me to talk about your buildings and anti-capitalist sentiments in the People's Republic of China."

"What? I can't be concerned about the direction of my company?"

"My company, Tony. I'm the CEO."

"My name's on the building. And the NYSE."

"That can be fixed." Pepper raised a single, challenging eyebrow.

"Pepper Industries?" Tony made a face, downing the last of his coffee. "Sounds like a spice company. And Potts Industries? There's so many ways that can be misinterpreted."

"Goodnight, Tony." Pepper made to reach for the phone, seeking the DISCONNECT button.

"Woah, woah, wait wait wait, woah!" Tony waved his hands in front of the transparent glass screen. Pepper's image remained, her face set in a look of sufferance Tony had become quite used to seeing. "I just called to say how thankful I was for all the hard work you're doing."

Pepper's face brightened with a smile, her natural beauty shining through even Tony's tiny screen. "Aw, Tony. Why didn't you just say so in the first place? Thank you."

Tony coughed softly in the back of his throat. "Well, I was just going to just say it, but then you showed up looking like the Wicked Witch of the West and—"

"Goodnight, Tony." Pepper's face hardened in an instant, her eyes rolling as she reached out to cut the call.

"Hey, she was really hot in the new movie." Tony called out before the screen went black. Reaching up, he ran a hand through his hair and let out a deep sigh. "Well, it's really hard to make that actress look ugly." He said musingly, standing and walking over to his minibar. Arrayed underneath the black marble counter were several glass bottles, each holding alcohol of varying color.

Tony deliberated for a moment before he reached down and grabbed an aged, expensive scotch. What brand he didn't remember, but it didn't matter for his purposes. What mattered was the taste: classy and reserved, just like the person to whom he was going to drink.

With ice in a glass, he poured a generous amount of the dark, warm-looking liquid. Picking the square glass up, he examined the liquid for a few seconds. Shifting his eyes, he stared at a particular patch of floor in the room before raising the glass higher.

"Sleep well, Agent. Happy Memorial Day," Tony said, bringing the glass to his lips.

The lights flickered for a fraction of a second, the low hum of Jarvis' positronic brain hitching like a record's needle skipping. Tony lowered his glass and looked around, raising a single black eyebrow in silent confusion.

"Jarvis?" Tony set his glass down, his toast to his old friend stalled but not forgotten. "What just happened?" Silence followed Tony's question, the billionaire's eyes flitting toward the secret compartment where his current suit was hidden.

"I am unsure, sir," came Jarvis' reply, the computer's voice as puzzled as Tony's. "Give me a moment." The holographic display buzzed to life once more, revealing the system specifications for the entire building. Memory dumps and page files rocketed past at lightning speed, small sections highlighted in the blur as Jarvis' sought out the source of the malfunction.

"Here, sir," Jarvis said, a small line of code highlighted a few feet from Tony's face. Stepping through the haze of hash marks, Tony squinted at the code, reaching up to scratch at his goatee thoughtfully. "There appears to have been an attempt to hack into our files."

"Did you stop the hack?" Tony reached out and grabbed the line of code, widening it and bringing it closer. From what he could tell, the code governed the camera systems on every floor.

"Yes, I—" Jarvis' voice cut out as the power dipped again, this time for a second and and a half. Tony made a half-turn for his armor before the lights glowed back to life. "Sir, it appears there is another hack under way. They are trying to get into our financial records."

"Lock it down. Trace the source of the hack." Tony nonchalantly brought his cup of coffee up to take a sip. Remembering that he'd finished his coffee beforehand, he grimaced and tossed the empty cup into a waste basket.

"I'm trying, sir," Jarvis replied, his voice twitching and stuttering. "Whoever is doing this appears to be using some kind of IP address ghosting program. Every time I try to get a lock on him, it redirects me to some other server."

"Hammer?" Realization swept over Tony's face, the image of his former competitor rising to his mind. Just as quickly as the thought came, he dismissed it. Justin Hammer was rotting away in a prison in upstate New York, his fortune locked by government bureaucrats to prevent a repeat of the Stark Expo incident.

"Sir, I've almost got a lock." A map of the United States appeared before Tony, a large rotating reticule hovering over the eastern seaboard. The reticule twitched and shrank, centering by degrees over New Jersey. "Ninety-five percent complete. Ninety-eight. Sir, the hacker is using a computer at a Starbucks in Montclair, New Jersey." The location flashed red on the map, the hacker's IP address appearing above it.

Tony smirked and shook his head. Pulling his cell from his pocket, he turned and walked towards the far wall, pressing an activation switch. Several panels in the wall pulled back, slowly revealing the shiny red-and-gold hull of the Mark X armor. "What've we got on this guy, Jarvis?" Pressing another button on his phone, the armor slowly unfurled like a blossoming flower, its power systems humming online.

"Tracing now, sir." Jarvis' voice compressed down into the environment of the suit as it closed around Tony, enfolding him in its familiar metallic cocoon. Holographic GUIs and an HD representation of the outside world sprung to life before him. "I'm afraid I can't get much, sir. The computer he is using is conspicuously absent of any identifying information."

Stepping out with a hydraulic hiss, Tony felt the comforting strength of his suit flowing through him. "Don't worry, Jarvis." His voice came out with a robotic echo, lending him an inhuman quality that the quite human snark of his voice balanced out. "I'll probably ask him after I send a repulsor shot through his ear."

"I suppose I should phone the lawyers in advance?"

"Yeah, you do that, Jarvis," Tony chuckled, walking with purpose toward his large, spacious balcony. As the door opened, the weather warning systems flashed up on his GUI. Looking up, his holographic interface outlined the dark, swirling edges of a thunderstorm, hanging low over the tower. Lightning crackled through the sky, thunder following in its wake.

"Jarvis?" Tony's voice had a mere shadow of his previously confident bravado. "Where did this come from?"

"It appears to have formed during the hack, sir." Tony's GUI shifted to a satellite view of the storm. Its formation had appeared in the last five minutes, flowing literally from nothing.

"When it rains, it pours," Tony whispered thoughtfully. A coruscating pillar of light shot down from the rainclouds. He had just enough time to raise a hand and charge a repulsor shot before the pillar slammed down onto his balcony. The thunderclap sent him flying back through his balcony door, shattering the double-strength safety glass into a shower of tiny shards.

Bruce Banner snapped awake. His brow shone with sickly, oily sweat, eyes wide and staring off into the bright, sterile light of his laboratory. The building rumbled around him, the sound of thunder echoing off into the distance.

Reaching up, he rubbed a hand over his face, coughing harshly. His entire back called out to him, a cacophony of pain as his tense muscles begged for a reprieve. Stretching out, he groaned as his spine popped a few times. He coughed a few more times as he settled forward, pressing a hand to his throat. His acid reflux kicked in even as a harsh headache began to throb at his temples.

Staring down at his notes, he brushed them aside for the time being and stood up from his research table. Across the length and breadth of the large, wooden structure, tables and graphs detailing his own genetic code lay strewn haphazardly. Notes scribbled in increasingly erratic shorthand detailed his research, though the numerous strike-throughs also showed his recent failures.

Moving with slowness born of sleep deprivation and various other neuroses, Bruce walked from his lab, through his living quarters, and into his bathroom. Standing in front of the sink's mirror, he stared at his own reflection. His eyes were sunken, his cheeks sallow. His jaw worked side-to-side as his teeth ground together subconsciously. He didn't bother to stop, knowing he'd be doing it again in moments.

Opening the mirror up, he stared at the pharmacy he'd collected in his time living in Stark Tower. Medicine for acid reflux, hypertension, migraines, and insomnia. Picking out the bottle for acid reflux, he popped the top off and downed a few of the bitter-tasting pills.

Replacing the bottle in the cabinet, he shut the door. Staring at his reflection again, his heart raced. Standing in the mirror, staring back at him, was the green-skinned source of all his problems. The Hulk glowered at him, lips pulling back in a wordless snarl. Banner cried out, stepping back and throwing his hands out in front of him.

A blink later, the image disappeared, replaced with his own sweaty, pale form. Banner's entire body shook, cold perspiration rolling down his body. His stomach knotted inside him, his bowels feeling seconds from giving way. With tentative steps he walked back to the sink, pressing his hands down on the cool porcelain surface.

"Just a mirage, Banner," he whispered to himself, his voice low and reedy. His once-tense body now felt ready to drop out from under him, his legs shaking like jelly under him. Screwing his eyes tight, he gripped the sink harder. In his mind's eye, he forcefully recalled the image of Thaddeus Ross, the man who had made his life a living hell for years.

The headache slowly began to throb once again, even as his stomach churned deep inside him, sending splashes of acid up into his throat. Licking his lips, he kept his concentration centered on the infuriating man, ignoring the intensifying side-effects. By degrees, he could sense the Hulk beginning to retreat. Snrrk-snrrk-snrrk went his teeth, grinding against one another, his jaw tightening up painfully.

Bruce leaned back up, staring at himself in the mirror. His face had regained some of the color it had lost, his eyes still as sunken as ever. He looked calm, almost inhumanly so. He slid a hand through his black hair, bringing it back to some semblance of order before smoothing out his rumpled white shirt.

"Banner." Tony's voice shot through his living quarters, calling Bruce's attention to the communication hub in his bedroom. Walking out of his bathroom, he waved a hand in front of the clear glass screen. Tony's Iron Man suit popped into existence on the screen, his face plate lifting up to reveal his friend's worried face.

"Jesus, buddy," Tony continued, the corner of his mouth pulling back in concern. "You look like hell."

"Yeah, I kinda feel like it." Banner spread his hands in an almost apologetic display, unconsciously hunching his shoulders. His back complained once again, but he ignored it.

"Keeping a lid on it?"

"Barely." The vision of the Hulk in his mirror returned to him and Banner pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Well, I've got good news and bad news. The good news is you're gonna get to let your freak flag fly here pretty soon."

"Tony, no." Bruce sighed and waved the idea away. "I've been a year without an incident. I'd only let the other guy out for another invasion."

Tony chuckled sadly, moving aside. The camera slowly refocused, showing a hazy, glowing figure in the background. "That's the bad news," he added, forcing humor into his voice.

Banner pulled his glasses from his breast pocket, sliding them on and stepping closer to the screen. The figure came into better focus, his heart slowly sinking down into his stomach.

"Son of a bitch," Bruce whispered flatly before coughing.

The trees whispered as the wind rustled through them, their green leaves contrasting the yellowed grass below. Headstones reflected the sun, pearls of off-white in a wild ocean. Captain Steve Rogers noted that, if this were any other day and any other small plot of land, it would actually be rather pleasant.

Steve adjusted the tie of his dress uniform, looking down at the medals resting on his chest. His grave had been exhumed upon his revival so they could retrieve his many posthumous awards. The Congressional Medal of Honor twinkled in the midday sun, clipped snugly next to his Purple Heart.

Steve stopped in front of one particular grave, going down to one knee and pulling his cap off. Brushing his blond hair back, he opened his mouth to say something. Swallowing hard, he looked down, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Hey, Buckey," he finally managed, looking back up at the off-white headstone for his best friend. James 'Buckey' Barnes, Master Sergeant, United States Army, 1920-1944. Proper, professional. It was an injustice to Steve's eyes, those paltry words insufficient to properly describe Buckey.

"I didn't think it would be right for you to be alone. Especially today." Steve looked out around the expanse of the graveyard. Across the way, he could make out the figure of another, what looked to be a hunched elderly man. He wondered, briefly, if he knew the man.

Regarding Buckey's headstone, Steve tried and failed to muster up something to say. Despite his legendary status as a hero of the American ideal, Steve often found himself without an inspiring speech. Quite often he said what was needed and nothing more.

Standing with a defeated sigh, he straightened himself up to attention. Replacing his cap atop his head, he raised his right hand to his brow. "Happy Memorial Day, Buckey," Steve spoke, snapping off a crisp salute. Turning on his heel, he marched out of the graveyard, the nagging feeling that he should have said more eating at his stomach.

Once outside the aged gates of the graveyard, Steve gave his first thought to what he might do for the rest of the day. Brooklyn was as active and bustling as he remembered it being back in the 40's, though he couldn't shake off that constant feeling of fundamental wrongness. As he reflected on the passage of time, a couple walking hand-in-hand passed him. With a second look, he saw that it was a pair of women, holding hands and happily chatting with one another.

Steve furrowed his brow and slid his hands into his pockets as the couple disappeared around a corner. Scanning the block, he saw a coffee shop across the way and decided that now would be a good time to grab a cup. A few honked horns later, he was across the street, entering the air-conditioned building behind a giggling group of teenage girls.

Could their pants be any shorter, he wondered to himself as he fell in line behind them. It only made his discomfort worse that nobody else seemed to care. Everyone else in the shop sat at their little tables, working on their portable telephones or their flat computers. He couldn't remember the last time he saw somebody reading a book.

"Hello, welcome to Starbucks," spoke the young girl at the register. Steve guessed she was some kind of Oriental person, judging from her dark complexion and heavily accented voice. "What would you like?" In his reverie, Steve had never even looked at the menu. Finally glancing up at it, he was mystified. Who demanded such choice? Four different sizes of dozens of kinds of coffee seemed absurd.

"Um," Steve started, his face screwing up in confusion. "I'll just have a medium coffee."

"What flavor?" The girl asked the question as if the lack of a flavor in his order was an oddity.

Steve raised his eyebrows and looked up at the menu. "Coffee-flavored coffee?"

"Okay. $4.50." He pulled a five from his pocket and handed it to her, dumping the fifty cents change into a small container asking for money to cure cancer.

Leaving the Starbucks, Steve note that he'd never been thanked for his business. The girl had never smiled once, either, or even asked him how his day was going. Thankfully, the coffee was decent after a bit of cream and sugar. Sipping at the hot liquid, he stood outside for a few minutes and simply watched the traffic. Across the street, a sickeningly obese man waddled on the sidewalk. Steve could hear his labored breathing even through the traffic.

"Sometimes I think I got the short end of the stick, Buckey." Steve half-smiled, swishing his coffee in a circle to get the sugar mixed up again. Drinking some more down, a buzzing in his pocket made him jump. A split-second later, he chastised himself internally. It wasn't some kind of animal loose in his pants, it was just the portable phone Tony had given him.

Setting his coffee down on a covered trash can, Steve fished his phone out of his pocket and held it up in front of him. It wasn't often he used the alien device and it showed in the multiple failed attempts it took him to answer the call. Tony's face finally appeared on the small screen.

"Tony?" Steve took his cap off and held the phone closer.

"Hey, Cap." Tony gave a mock salute, his informal demeanor as charmingly ingratiating as Steve remembered.

"Hey, yourself." A note of surprise crept into Steve's voice. It had been several months since he and Tony had last talked. "What's going on?"

"Oh, the usual." Tony shrugged, the gold-and-red shining on his shoulders giving Steve his first inkling that this was more than a social call. "New towers going up, Jarvis getting hacked, and this." Tony reached out and turned the camera, shifting it to the left. A glowing blue figure came into frame.

Bringing his phone closer to his face, Steve squinted at the tiny screen. It took him a few seconds for the image to register in his mind. When it did, his eyebrows shot up. The moment of shock passed as quickly as it had come, Steve's soldier's instincts as sharp as they had been seventy years ago.

"I can be at the tower in thirty minutes," Steve said, turning his gaze to look south. Sliding his finger across the screen, he tried in vain to end the call. After a few failed attempts, he deposited the phone in his pocket with a sigh.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft swish, the computer's merry chime catching Tony's attention. Turning around, his Mk. X suit whirring as he moved, he smiled as he saw Steve Rodgers exit his elevator.

"Steve," he said, taking the Captain's outstretched hand. "Glad you could make it."

"Well, I couldn't miss it, could I?" Steve responded, glancing down at the glass strewn across the floor. The sun shone through the open hole, the day bright and blue outside. Walking around Stark, Steve waved at the seated doctor. "Dr. Banner, good to see you. Doing all right?"

"No, but not much I can do about it," Banner grunted, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His back was particularly whiny about being in a seated position for more than a few minutes.

"Well," Tony said, looking between his two friends,"now that the Backstreet Boys are together again, guess it's time to see what our first tour's gonna be ab—"

"Sir," Jarvis interrupted, bringing up a hologram of the SHIELD logo, "Agent Hill of S.H.I.E.L.D. is on line one."

"Perfect timing," Steve responded, a spark of amusement in his voice. "Let her through, Jarvis."

"Mr. Stark." Agent Hill's stern, humorless face sprang to life in front of Tony, her holographic image floating mere feet from the gathered trio. Steve slid his hands into his pockets, shaking his head slowly in quiet bemusement. "We detected anomalous weather patterns around Stark Tower nearly twenty minutes ago," Hill continued, her voice clipped and professional. "Director Fury wants to know if you have anything to report."

"Yeah. I want to file a bug report." Tony crossed his arms, the metal of his armor squealing as he rubbed the plates together. "Before the perfect storm descended on me, somebody in Jersey was able to hack into my company's secret files about as easily as I can hack into yours. You wouldn't have any information on that, would you?"

"We'll look into it." Hill's face remained impassive, though her voice wavered in annoyance. "Now, about your weather conditions."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Jarvis, send her the recording. It'll be easier if she just sees for herself." Tony reached out, bringing up a file folder and selecting a file marked 'Help Me, Obi-Wan Kenobi'. The file transferred in a few seconds, Agent Hill turning her head to the left as it showed up on her screen.

For a few seconds, Hill's face seemed to have frozen on the screen, illuminated by a pale blue light. Turning her attention back to the screen, she frowned. "Is this accurate?"

"It's legit," Tony confirmed.

"Understood." Agent Hill reached up, pressing a finger to her ear. After a few seconds, she shifted her eyes back at the gathered heroes. "Director Fury will be patched through in a few moments. He expects a full briefing." Before Tony could confirm or deny anything, the screen snapped shut, replaced with a floating S.H.I.E.L.D. symbol.

"So," Tony said, clapping his metallic hands together. "How's the New Army treating you, Cap? I've heard some interesting rumors about your work this past year." As he spoke, he headed across the room to his minibar, holding out an empty glass in Steve's direction.

Steve shook his head in reply, hooking his thumbs on his pants' pockets. "No, thanks. And it's fine, though I can't really say much more than that. National security, you know."

"Come on, Cap," Tony insisted, pouring himself a measure of bourbon. After a moment's thought, he poured some mineral water as well, sipping the mixed drink and walking back to join the group. "When you say 'fine', I hear 'not fine'."

Steve reached up, removing his cap to run a hand through his short-cropped blonde hair. He took a sidelong look at the floating emblem mere feet away. "They changed the uniform."

"Wait, wait, wait." Banner shifted in his seat, sitting forward and raising his hand in an inquisitive gesture. "You mean the standard fatigues or the uniform?"

"I'm a captain, I don't wear standard fatigues," Steve corrected. "Apparently the new higher-ups thought the red, white, and blue would make me too much of a target." He let out a derisive laugh, shaking his head. "Eyesight must have improved in seventy years, because I hid from Hydra pretty well back in '45."

"Tell me this isn't a government operation." Tony mirrored Steve's head shake, downing the rest of his drink. Steve smiled, wondering how he'd ever thought Tony was a bad person.

The conversation died as Banner coughed suddenly, leaning forward in his chair to cover his mouth. His entire body quaked as his stomach tried to force itself up through his neck. Steve rushed to the ailing doctor's side, slapping his back to try to help.

"I've got it, I've got it," Banner spoke through hacks and sputters. With an immense force of will, he fought down the acid in his throat, leaning back in his chair. He shook with barely-contained coughs, pressing a hand to his mouth.

"Yeah, you've got it, all right," Tony spoke, his face lined with worry. "Look, you need to stop keeping a lid on this thing before you explode."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to prevent," Bruce retorted, his voice quavering.

"I think Tony might be right, Dr. Banner." Steve went to one knee by Bruce's chair, getting down on eye-level with the seated doctor. "Being angry all the time can't be good for your health."

"It isn't," came a voice from across the room. The assembled men turned to see the stone-set face of Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D., staring back at them from the holographic screen. Regarding the heroes with a sweep of his one good eye, the eyepatch-wearing leader turned his attentions on Tony specifically. " However, Dr. Banner's health must wait for another time. Mr. Stark, I believe you have something to show me."

"Our lead singer is back," Tony quipped, spreading his arms in a magnanimous fashion. "And just in time for the main event, too." Setting his glass down, he stepped away from the center of the room, Steve following suit. "Jarvis, begin playback."

"Yes, sir." The lights in the room dimmed, the windows darkening to a near-impenetrable black. With a mechanical whine, a beam of light speared the center of the room, spreading out into a rotating column of individual streams. The streams moved faster and faster, building out the frame of Thor's tall, noble frame. "Beginning playback," Jarvis announced, as Thor's holographic image started moving.

"Tony Stark, my friend," the Asgardian began. "I am afraid I have news of the most dire nature. My brother, the treacherous Loki, has recently escaped Asgard. At the present time, we have no clues as to his whereabouts.

"I am currently in the process of rebuilding the Bifrost, the link between Asgard and the rest of the Nine Realms. Until that time, I am regrettably unable to render assistance. I do hope, however, that this warning will suffice for the time being.

"Our guardian, Heimdall, is on a constant vigil at the termination of the Rainbow Bridge. When he finds Loki, I will contact you again. I know I can count on your aid in retrieving him. Be safe, my friends." The image of Thor froze before flickering and disappearing. The windows lightened, letting in the afternoon sun once again.

"That's the message that got beamed down to my tower," Tony added, stepping forward to stand in front of the screen.

"This doesn't make any sense," Fury mused, crossing his arms and reaching up to stroke his goatee.

"You're tellin' me," Steve agreed, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Excuse me," Banner interjected, raising a hand like a child in class. "Does anyone want to elaborate on what, exactly, doesn't make sense?"

"Why now?" Tony answered, turning his gaze from Fury to Banner then back again. "If Loki could escape, why not do it sooner? Why wait a whole year?"

"Maybe he couldn't have until just now," Steve offered. "Maybe he just saw an opportunity and took it."

"Somehow I doubt that the Asgardians are the kind of people to offer many opportunities to someone like Loki," Fury said, effectively ending the argument. "Regardless of why or how he escaped, he's out there somewhere. It goes without saying that his freedom poses a huge security risk."

"Right, right," Tony added impatiently, stepping up to face Fury. "We need Barton and Romanov in on this, too. If we're going to go after him when he shows up, we need as many people who've fought him as possible."

Fury heaved a sigh, shaking his head slowly. "I'm afraid that's impossible, Mr. Stark. Agents Barton and Romanov don't have clearance for this kind of mission. None of my agents do."

"Excuse me?" Steve asked incredulously, stepping closer to the screen. "'This kind of mission'? What kind of mission?"

"The kind that involves activities off-world, Captain." Fury turned to look at Tony. "Do you remember what S.H.I.E.L.D. stands for, Mr. Stark?"

"Strategic Homeland something something," Tony responded, waving the question away as an irrelevancy.

"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, And Logistics Division," Fury corrected, earning an impatient scoff from Tony. "The key word in this is Homeland. As our acronym suggests, we are an entirely protective body. We monitor and police potential threats on Earth; the rest of the universe is far outside our current jurisdiction."

"'Jurisdiction'?" Banner stood from his seat, his once-pallid face alive with indignation. "This is Loki, Director Fury. You can be damn sure whatever he's planning will end up inside your 'jurisdiction' sooner or later."

"And when it does, Dr. Banner, we'll deal with it." Fury's stared down at the doctor, his uncompromising gaze brooking no further argument. "Until that time, S.H.I.E.L.D. will not be going off on a cosmic chase that could bring even more trouble down on our heads."

"With all due respect, sir, this is bureaucratic nonsense." Steve crossed his arms, his face pulled tight in annoyance. "We can't just sit on our hands while Loki's out there planning his revenge."

"Who says you have to?" Fury smirked softly, shifting his gaze from one man to the next. "Agents Barton and Romanov have to obey our rules regarding an agent's zone of engagement. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but members of the United States Armed Forces, private citizens, and Asgardian royalty don't automatically qualify as agents of S.H.I.E.L.D."

Tony, Steve, and Bruce looked at each other, the weight of Fury's words sinking in. "Just remember," Fury added, the ghost of a smile on his face. "Whatever you intend to do, I've got my eye on you." The screen once again went blank, shifting out of focus and disappearing to leave the room empty of holograms for the time being.

"So we're down by two," Steve finally said, shattering the silence that had descended around them. "And two of our most experienced, as well."

"We've still got Point Break and the Jolly Green Giant," Tony offered, giving a smile at Banner. Banner favored Tony with a gesture that made Steve shake his head. "I'll keep my ear to the ground, too. If there's anything that looks like an invasion, I'll sound the alarms."

"Good, good," Bruce nodded, rubbing a hand on his chest. His acid reflux had thankfully decided to abate, leaving him feeling more or less human for the time being. An odd thought struck him, and he looked at Tony. "What about that hacker?"

"Doesn't seem like a priority right now, does it?" Tony waved a hand, bringing up a report of the hack. "He didn't get what he was after, and I got his IP address. Even if I don't go after him, he knows I have the capability." Tony smirked, shutting down the report. "I think he'll be too scared to try something like that again."

Hiram Riddley's apartment could have been the definition for controlled chaos. Pizza boxes and soda cans stood haphazardly next to a monolithic computer center. Sticky notes detailing code and reminders of all kinds lined the four monitors hanging above a tall computer tower, humming gently in the low light.

In contrast, the rest of his apartment was a model of cleanliness. The uninformed person might assume that Hiram suffered from a selective form of OCD. They wouldn't be incorrect in that assumption.

The door opened and Hiram wandered in, tossing a sack of McDonald's onto his mini-kitchen's tiny table. The blonde-haired young man stretched his arms out above himself, sliding his jacket off and draping it over back of an aged EZ-chair. Unslinging his laptop case, he set the computer down before moving to the kitchen.

His McDouble was unwrapped and almost to his lips when his cell rang. Grunting in annoyance, he tossed the snack back into his bag, fishing his inexpensive pay-per-minute phone out of his pocket.

"Hello?" He pressed the phone to his ear, tucking it between his shoulder and neck.

"Hello, Hiram," came the voice on the other end, a gruff and aged voice with whom Riddley was quite familiar. "I got your data transfer. You'll be happy to know that what I was looking for was in your package."

"What did I tell you? Best there is at what I do." Hiram smirked, taking a bite of his double cheeseburger. Walking across his small apartment, he plopped down in his computer chair, shaking his mouse to wake his tower.

"I'm glad you are, Hiram," the voice responded. Hiram brought up his web browser, shifting over to his bank account and typing in his password. "You'll find your payment has been transferred."

"I see it, Thunderbolt." Hiram grinned, looking at his account numbers. His heart did a few calisthenics, imagining a life without the debts he'd accrued. "This is more than enough to cover what I owe."

"Excellent," Thunderbolt said. "Now, how would you like to be in the black for the first time in your life?"

Hiram cocked an eyebrow, finishing off his cheeseburger and crumpling up his wrapper. "Doing what? Breaking into Stark Industry's secure files was risky enough as it is."

"Just making a few phone calls for me, Hiram, that's all. I'm sending the information now." Within seconds, a list of contacts popped up on Hiram's computer screen, listing aliases, names, phone numbers, and e-mail addresses.

"Look," Hiram said, copying the list to his hard drive for future reference, "more money is more money, but why are you having me be your personal secretary? Your personal hacker I can understand."

"This is a list of wetboys that the government has been keeping tabs on," Thunderbolt answered. "That would be 'assassins' to a civilian, though the truth of their profession is far more complicated. For obvious reasons, I can't have them linked back to me."

Hiram shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "And what am I contacting them for, exactly?" Another file opened on Hiram's desktop. The picture appeared to be from some kind of security camera, showing a short, nebbish man bent over a microscope. Even from the picture Hiram could tell the man was in some kind of discomfort.

"This man," Thunderbolt said, "is an escaped government experiment. Tony Stark is currently housing him in his tower in New York. That's all you need to know about the target. Your job is to get one of these wetboys to extract him using any means necessary. Price is no object."

Hiram narrowed his eyes, staring at the picture. "That's all?"

"That's the depth of your involvement, yes," Thunderbolt responded. Hiram heard a tinkling in the background, like ice in a glass of alcohol. "An extraction point will be sent to you once you've confirmed someone's good for the op. Do we have a deal?"

"Is price an object for my job as well?" Hiram leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs with a smirk.

Thunderbolt chuckled. "Hiram, you're a smart kid. But you're not that smart. Don't make me come up to New Jersey and shove my boot up your ass."

The line went dead. Hiram was left alone in his apartment, a knot of ice forming in his stomach. Reflexively, he stood up and walked out to the single window of his apartment, shoving the curtains closed.

Slinking back to his battle station, Hiram sat for a few moments staring at his screen. "Computer hacker to assassin secretary," he spoke to himself, rolling his eyes about. Was his apartment bugged? Was Thunderbolt watching right now?

Picking up his cell phone off his computer table, he brought up the table of contacts. Casting a paranoid look over his shoulder, he scrolled all the way down to the last number on the list. Working his way up, he dialed each number in turn, working late into the night compiling responses, leaving messages, and sending e-mails.

The Life of an Archivist.

“And over here we have the restricted section.” Tattered Page's hooves clopped across the hardwood floor of the Canterlot Archives. He gazed wistfully across the rows of dusted bookshelves he'd tended to for half a century, his worn face creasing into a melancholy smile.

Trailing behind the aging ex-archivist was his new replacement, Loki Odinson. The two ponies approached a plain wooden door. “Very dangerous things kept in here,” Tattered continued, his rich voice laced with the heavy, glottal tones of his native Stalliongrad. He reached up to touch a hoof to his gold-rimmed glasses, turning to face Loki. “The only way anyone can enter is with a pass. Only the University or the Princess herself is allowed to issue one. Not even I can go in there without one of those slips of paper.”

Loki stamped down the urge to smile as he gazed up at the tall, unassuming door. “Dangerous things, hmm?” Loki reached out to press a hoof to the door, only for his forelimb to be blown back by an invisible cushion of magical force.

Tattered laughed, his jowls shaking as he shook his head. “What did I tell you, Loki? It is imperative we keep these secrets out of the wrong hooves. Why, it is rumored that the secret diary of Starswirl the Bearded is housed here.”

Loki permitted himself a single raised eyebrow. “Starswirl the Bearded? I had heard that all of his writings were over in the Canterlot Library.”

“Only the writings approved for publication, Loki. You can find many copies of his mundane spellworks at the Library; if it exists, you'll only find his diary here. In fact, that's what makes the archives so special.” Tattered raised an arm, waving it in a grand, sweeping gesture. “Every codex, every scroll, every book, and every piece of parchment here is unique and irreplaceable. They are single-prints, out of print, or the last remaining copy.”

Loki inclined his head toward the shelf next to him, gazing at the antiquated books leaning against one another. “A heavy responsibility,” he mused, reaching up to push one of the books back into place.

“Da, this is true.” Tattered began walking toward the front of the archives, Loki falling in step behind him. “This is the reason for the magical protection on our restricted section. Even when you become the archivist, your comings and goings from that room will be recorded. Don't ask me how, that's just what was told to me.”

As they reached the front desk, Loki cleared his throat to get Tattered's attention. “Pardon me for prying, but there is something I have been meaning to ask for quite some time.” Letting the question hang for half a second, he finally gestured toward the hammer and anvil on Tattered's rear end. “Your cutie mark has conspicuously little to do with pages, Tattered Page.”

Tattered pursed his lips and tilted his head forward, pressing a hoof to his glasses and sliding them down his face. “This is not a question. And the same could be said of you, Loki with the ice cubes on his ass.”

Loki bowed his head deferentially. “Excuse me, I meant no disrespect. I was only curious.”

“I could speak of what curiosity does to cats, but it is a good question.” Tattered nodded, pressing his glasses back up his nose. “It is true that most ponies have a name that somehow relates to their special talent. Believe it or not, my name does; rather, my real name from my old country.” Leading Loki to the west wing of the archives, Tattered turned a corner and began to make his way up a creaking set of spiral stairs.

“When I was picked to be an apprentice,” Tattered continued, “steel had not yet been invented. That came later. The first metal I worked with was iron.” He smiled, his eyes once again filling with nostalgia. “Ah, when I struck my hammer down on that fiery ingot, I knew that sweat and metal was my future.” He gestured to the hammer and anvil on his rump. “Then this appeared, of course, and the rest is history.”

The two of them crested the top of the staircase and into a short hallway, Tattered lost in a reverie of his own memories. Loki coughed softly, gaining the stallion's attention once more.

“Oh. Pardon me, Loki.” Tattered chuckled, shaking his head slowly. “Thank you for indulging an old pony's insanity. To answer your question, my original name was Iron Monger.” Pressing his hoof to a plain-looking wooden door, he pushed it open. “This is where you shall be staying.”

The door creaked open to reveal a small circular room with tall wooden walls that curved gently into a domed skylight, streaks of sunlight shining through its transparent panes. A single bed was built into the western wall, a tall window overlooking its crisply made sheets. A heavy desk surrounded by packed boxes stood opposite the bed, spaces for writing and other such activities set aside across its broad surface.

“It is not much,” Tattered said warmly, “but you will come to find it comforting.” The old stallion winked. “Rent-free with a 300 bit weekly stipend is quite comfortable in my estimation.”

Loki walked to the center of the room, the warm rays from the sun shining off his golden helmet. Tilting his head back, he stared up at the clear blue sky through the skylight's windows, taking in the view for a few seconds before turning his magenta eyes to the room around him.

“It's sufficient.” Loki walked over to the desk – his desk, and pulled one of the drawers open. Pencils rolled about over sheaves of paper. Another drawer held more formal paper next to a few quills and ink pots. “Though, I must say: I am still rather unsure of the buying power of bits.”

Tattered chuckled, waving away the question. “300 bits a week will keep you fed well enough. You might be able to buy a few distractions, as well.” Walking over to his old desk, the old pony's voice took on a more serious note. “If you were looking to get rich from this job, Loki, I am afraid you chose the wrong position.”

Loki's horn glowed as he levitated a book out of one of the boxes. “Not all riches are monetary, Tattered Page. Some of us value more esoteric things, such as knowledge.” Turning the book horizontally, the spine's title shifted into view. Collating Chaos: An Exhaustive Exposé of Draconequus Biology by D. Trotssey.

“I knew there was a reason I chose you.” Tattered gave Loki's shoulder a hard, ingratiating slap, laughing. “Keep my old books if you wish. Consider it a gift from one academic to another. Though I must give a warning; you will be hard-pressed to find the time to read them once you start your new position.”

Loki smirked, setting the book back into its box. “Not to belittle your job, Tattered Page, but I was once a king.” He looked over his shoulder, catching a twinkle of amusement in the stallion's eye. “How hard can it be in comparison?”

The sonorous knell of the 6 AM bell resounded through Loki's living space. Shook from his slumber, he once cursed his mortal form, the damnable train station bell, and life in general.

Rising from his rumpled bed, the pains in his stomach told him that he was indeed suffering for skipping meals. Gazing at the pile of books surrounding his sleeping space, each tome at varying levels of completion, he reflected that the occasional stomach ache was a small price to pay.

Hopping down from his bed, he strolled across his small room. His ears perked up and he turned, levitating a small pencil toward the calender set up next to his bedroom. Scrawling the fourteenth in a series of X's in the month, he set the pencil down and shook his head. A fortnight already?, thought he, casting his gaze to his reading desk. As was the case around his bed, the desk nearly toppled over with interesting books, codices, and parchments he'd found around the archives.

Picking up his saddlebags sitting next to the door, Loki flung the heavy sac over his back, the jingle of bits livening up the morning silence. A sharp glow surrounded his body, cooling down to reveal his usual green-and-gold attire, his horned helmet appearing atop his head. Opening the door, he shot a gaze over his shoulder, ticking boxes on a mental checklist. For a brief moment, his eyes rested on a chess board set atop a pile of books, a pair of wine glasses stacked neatly nearby. The smallest of smiles tugged at the corners of his mouth.

With quick trots, he walked down the short hallway. His door closed and locked with a familiar bang-clunk. As with every morning before, he wondered if such a precaution was necessary in such a naive world.

“Better to be secure than to be robbed,” Loki mused aloud as he descended the spiral staircase into his archives. Stopping at the base, he made his way toward the front doors. The sight of the restricted section doorway gave him pause, his magenta eyes sizing up the mockingly plain wood through several aisles of bookshelves.

“Perhaps today.” Loki's voice was as icy as the cutie mark he'd adopted, staring down the damnable door as he'd done for two weeks. As it had done since he'd taken the job, the door stood ignorantly between him and whatever secrets lay beyond.

A deep, gurgling noise rolled through his stomach. “Damn it all,” he breathed. “Curse mortality and its incessant need for sustenance.”

“Morning, sunshine.” Violet Sapphire smiled down from streetside bistro, green eyes taking in her most recent regular customer. She leaned forward and pressed her chin into one of her light-purple hooves. “Burning the candle at both ends again?”

Loki approached her cart, frowning at the vendor's comment. “Is it that obvious, Violet?”

“You've got bags under your eyes bigger than your crown.” She smiled, leaning down to fish the ingredients for an egg-and-oat sandwich on rye from behind her counter. “The usual?”

“Of course. With some ginseng tea, if you please.” Loki opened up his saddlebags, fishing out a few bits and setting them on the counter.

“You know,” Violet said, taking his payment, “you don't seem like the type of stallion who can't cook for himself. Not that I'm complaining.”

Loki offered a wan smile. “Cooking requires time. Ingredients. Proper refrigeration facilities.” He raised a challenging brow. “And perhaps I just like the pleasure of your company.”

Violet flushed despite herself, turning away to busy herself with the making of Loki's tea. “Can't imagine why. All I ever do is bug you with questions.”

Loki's smile grew. “You will find that I am a stallion who rather enjoys talking about himself.”

“You and about every other stallion in the world.” Violet chuckled at her lame joke, pouring off Loki's tea into a portable bottle. Twisting the cap on, she set it on the counter and leaned forward slightly. “What is you do that keeps you up so late, anyway?”

Loki levitated his breakfast into his saddlebags, offering a small shrug. “I read. I watch the stars. I play chess.”

“Chess? What, with yourself?”

“No.” Loki met Violet's gaze. “I play chess with Princess Luna every night. We are evenly matched and we cannot seem to beat one another.”

Violet stared into Loki's magenta eyes for a few more moments. A giggle bubbled up her throat, turning into full-bellied laughter. She pressed her hooves to her nose, closing her green eyes and shaking her head.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” she squeaked, opening one eye and wiping away a few tears. “ 'Playing chess with Princess Luna'. Oh, Loki, I've heard some whoppers in my time, but that one takes every cake.”

Loki grinned from ear to ear. “It was worth a try.”

“Excuse me,” came a voice from behind. Loki looked over his shoulder, a male and female pony in trendy clothing glaring back at him. The female tilted her head back, regarding Violet with a condescending stare. “If you are quite done flirting, we would like to be served.”

“Yes, Ms. Crust. Right away, Ms. Crust.” Violet set Loki's order on the counter, giving him an apologetic half-smile. Loki floated his breakfast into his saddlebags, taking a look at the snobby pair. A brief memory of Tattered's retirement party flashed through his mind, a picture of a pair of ponies quite like them engaged in simpering sycophancy to other members of the Canterlot elite. Self-important twits, Loki decided.

Straying through the winding cobblestone streets of Canterlot, Loki pulled his sandwich out. Pulling the cellophane from around it, he took a few contemplative bites before rounding a corner, the large green lawn of his archives coming into view. The squat, stately building shone in the early morning sun, the domed structure of his home standing tall above the rounded walls.

Sipping his tea, he moved around the archives from the back, rounding a corner to see a small gaggle of ponies standing in some semblance of a line. The median age among them couldn't have been out of their twenties, more than a few of them sporting some form of clothing that noted them as University students.

“The archives will open at its usual time,” Loki said, taking a perverse satisfaction in making a few of the ponies jump. “I suggest you all leave to take in breakfast, or perhaps get another hour's worth of sleep. Unless any of you has request for something from the restricted section.” Standing in front of the double doors, Loki eyed the gathered ponies. “That will require extra time, so giving it to me now will allow me to have it ready when the archives open.”

The ponies looked at one another, waiting for anyone meeting the criteria to speak. Some of them shrugged, while others shook their head. Loki made a face, shaking his head. “I shall see you all in an hour, then.” Shutting out the ponies' protests, he turned and unlocked the double doors, slipping inside.

The darkened foyer of the archives greeted him, thin slits of sunlight streaming in through the ceiling windows. The front desk bore his name on a matte gold plaque, a massive book of records open on its wooden surface. Downing the last of his breakfast, he set his tea on the desk and hopped up the few steps to take a seat behind it.

Shrugging off his saddlebags, Loki's horn lit up, flipping through the pages of the immense directory. His mane ruffled with the artificial wind produced by the flipping pages, until he finally stopped. On the left side of the book, the pages looked brand new, the even, legible script representing a logical sorting system. On the right side the aging pages were filled with half-finished notes in a strange, blocky language. If there was any rhyme or reason to the sorting system the language represented, Loki had not fully sussed its meaning.

“Finally we are close to being done,” Loki breathed, flipping through the last original pages left in the book. With a heavy thud, he closed the book. His horn glowing bright, he pulled a drawer open to withdraw a large wooden box. Stepping down from his perch, Loki began trotting his way deeper into the archives. “Tattered Page, your filing system could have been used as a system of torture in Hel.”

Running a mental countdown, Loki moved through the aisles, looking at the plaques placed at the end of each large, wooden structure. The books, codices, and scrolls were stacked neatly and exactly, following a rigid number system. On the binder or corner of each entry, a new stamp registered its place in the new system. Loki's countdown soon reached its end, and he stopped at the last few shelves he had left to process. Their dusty, haphazardly-stored entries made him slowly shake his head.

“Very well. Gentlecolts, it is once again time.” Loki closed his eyes, his body shimmering like a sheet of glass. His furred flesh warped and expanded, bleeding out in a rainbow of color until two exact replicas of him stepped out of his original form. From the hard-light clones, two more again were spawned, totaling six fully-formed copies by the time the real Loki opened his eyes.

“You know your roles. Let us hurry, so this might be the last time we have to do this.” Each clone nodded, turning from their master and trotting to their assigned row, disappearing between the bookcases. Loki's horn glowed again, sliding the top of his wooden box off and setting aside.

Inside the box lay several sheets of new, crisp parchment, a quill pen with an ink pot, and a large, custom-made rubber stamp. Removing each item in turn, he looked up to see his clones walking out from the bookcases, each with an item held in their mouths. Loki levitated his quill, dipping it in the dark purple ink and holding it up, using it to motion one of his other selves closer.

One by one, each item was properly recorded. Loki took down as much information as he could about each slip of parchment and each book, from author to title to date of publication. After its entry, the item in question received its stamp, denoting its new placement in the archives along with a unique ten-digit number. Handing the entry back to his doppelganger, Loki moved on to the next one. For its part, the clone moved back to its aisle, leaving its cargo in a neat pile for future restocking.

As the seconds and minutes ticked by, the pile grew larger and increasingly amorphous. Thick rolls of parchment, propaganda posters from foreign nations, and long lists of ingredients for lost spells were piled as neatly as possible on a growing mountain of books and codices of all shapes and sizes. Sitting in the center of the growing pile, Loki watched over the slow procession of his mirage minions. The scratching of his quill and the soft squidge of his stamp were the only sounds that kept him company.

“Hold on a second,” he said softly, head tilted to the side to read the spine of a book. His clone stood dutifully still, tilting its head in the opposite direction to aid his comprehension. “A Brief History of Harmony: Myths and Facts Surrounding The Elements of Harmony. Hmm.” Loki levitated the book out of his clone's mouth, shooing it away to continue its work. Flipping it open, he breezed through a few pages, gleaning a few tidbits of information here and there.

“Well, then,” he said, setting the book on a smaller pile just next to him. “Congratulations to you, S. Hocking. Your book will find itself quite comfortable in my personal library.” Loki made a note of the book in his log, putting its official placement as Redacted, In Need Of Restoration.

Caught up in the monotonous yet rewarding nature of his task, Loki found himself surprised when he heard the train bell tolling the half-hour. Looking up at the skylights, he saw what had once been a sky bruised reddish-orange was now a deep, rich blue. Cursing under his breath, he turned to his clones.

“Once again time gets away from us. We have half an hour until we must open.” His mirages nodded in understanding. “Very good. Let us be quick, shall we?”

Loki emerged from the inner aisles of the archives exactly a minute before he was due to open. No sign of his mirages or the work they had done remained; so far as any pony would be able to tell, Loki had simply rearranged the archives himself.

Climbing the few steps up to his desk, he seated himself behind it and opened the directory. Flipping through to where he had left off that morning, he deftly ripped the old pages out and set them aside. Opening his wooden box, he fished the new pages out, setting them down in the directory so their long edges pressed against its inner spine. Loki's horn gave a bright spark, driving the parchments' fibers to intermingle with the directory's spine. Within seconds, it looked as if the pages had always been part of the large tome.

Looking up, Loki cast his eyes to the large clock hanging above the archive's main double doors. Ten seconds to 8 AM. As it had been every day since he'd started, Loki was prepared barely ahead of schedule. The seconds trickled away, and Loki steeled himself for the coming onslaught. Closing his eyes, his horn glowed for barely a second. A quick click-thunk and the double doors were opened.

Barely unlocked, the doors swung open. In twos and threes, pony after pony walked inside, their official request forms held between their teeth or floated in front of them. University students, government officials, writers and historians; each of them needed a particular book or scroll, buried deep in the aisles behind Loki.

“Good morning,” he spoke with a small inclination of his head. “Welcome to the Canterlot Archives. If this is your first time, my name is Loki. I am pleased to see you have already formed an orderly line” Loki smiled, his small joke earning him a few laughs from the crowd. He motioned to the pony closest to his desk. “Please form a line behind this lovely mare and we shall get started.”

This Lovely Mare smiled, tilting her head back to offer up her request form. Floating the slip of paper up to his desk, Loki quickly looked over the stamps and signatures. Finding everything to be in order, he searched through the directory for the book in question. In a few flips of the tome's large pages, he found the book, his mind recalling its exact placement among the shelves.

“Just a moment, please.” Loki hopped down from his perch, turning into his archives and beginning the search. With brisk trots, he made his way through the maze, finding his prize nestled exactly where he'd placed it not a week earlier. Levitating it up, he made his way back up front as quickly as he'd come, emerging to smile at the grateful-looking mare.

“One hour in the reading room,” he said, motioning for her to follow as he marched across the large foyer. The reading room was a large room set aside from the foyer, its interior lined with relaxing paintings overlooking row upon row of rich cherrywood reading desks. Several clear book rests were stacked along the wall, one of which Loki floated over to a desk. Setting the book down in the rest, it settled open, its brittle pages crackling softly as it opened up like a blossoming flower.

“Please be careful, miss,” Loki called over his shoulder as he walked to the door. “The book is a over a hundred years old. Anyone would be quite brittle after such a long life.” The mare smiled and nodded, seating herself down in front of her prize and beginning to read. Satisfied that she was taken care of, Loki closed the door behind him.

“And here you are,” Loki said as he stepped back into the foyer. He held out the scroll, the pegasus stallion for whom he'd fetched it accepting it with a careful bite. “Please return it within a week, and do try to be careful with it. It's only ten years old, but it's the last Treatise on Aerodynamics we have.” The pegasus nodded with understanding, carefully placing the scroll under his wing before he trotted out.

Stealing a glance at his clock, Loki drew his face into an apologetic smile. “Terribly sorry, fillies and gentlecolts, but it is fifteen minutes before my daily lunch break.” Closing his eyes, Loki nodded indulgently as a wave of disappointed sighs and calls washed over him. “I know, I know. Please leave your request forms on my desk and I shall endeavor to have your selections ready when we open again at one.”

Briskly shifting toward his reading room, Loki trotted the few paces between it and his desk. Cracking the door, he leaned inside and painted the same subtly self-effacing smile on his face. “Excuse me, but I shall have to ask you all to please finish whatever notes you are taking in the next fifteen minutes. My lunch break is about to commence and I shall have to lock up the archives. Please leave your materials where they are. Thank you all.”

In the foyer, the half-dozen or so ponies whom he had yet to serve had left their slips in a neat pile and vacated, the double doors creaking shut almost as soon as he pulled his head from the reading room. Checking the clock again along the way, he swiftly looked through each slip. His nostrils flared with a snort as he saw that, yet again, each slip was frustratingly missing a seal in the Restricted Section box.

The reading room door clicked shut, rousing Loki from his momentary malaise. He offered a smile and a nod to the exiting ponies, following them a few paces behind as they made their way to the exit. “Thank you, thank you,” he said, his voice cordial and appreciative. “We will be opening again in an hour and thirty minutes. If no other pony has requested your selections, I shall leave them in the reading room should you wish to continue.”

The ponies smiled their vapid smiles and said their empty thanks, and for a moment Loki's smile faltered. Swiftly he recovered, “Thank you, thank you. Yes, have a nice day. Thank you. Goodbye.” He shut the door, a bit too quickly, and bolted it shut. Leaning forward, the curved horns of his crown scraped against the wood as he hung his head, shoulders sagging and his read legs giving out to let his rump rest against the cool floor.

Sliding his eyelids shut, he attempted to regulate his breathing by drawing in deep gulps and letting them out in slow exhalations. Picking up a forehoof, he rapped it against the dark wooden floor. Once, twice, three times. Again and again, over and over, a lock of black mane slipping from under his helmet to fall in front of his face. Screwing his eyes tighter, he slowly shook his head.

Nostrils flaring once again, he leaned his head back and let loose a rasping sigh. Turning with a flourish of his long tail and green cape, he glared through the dense foliage of bookshelves. Staring through them, back toward that accursed room, its secrets still locked away behind its magical defenses.

“Perhaps this afternoon,” Loki whispered, almost as if he were afraid the door might hear him. Pulling himself away from the entrance, he trudged back to his desk to sort through the request slips in greater detail. Books needed to be shelved, scrolls needed to be tightly bound, and records needed to be kept.

Minutes later, a calmer and more collected Loki exited the archives, entering a midday Canterlot bustling with activity and smelling of a complex bouquet of fragrances. Foodstuffs of all sorts intermingled with the royal gardens and the unmistakeable odor of thousands upon thousands of equine citizens, going to and fro about their daily lives. Staring out across the archive's expansive lawns, Loki pondered what to do with himself for the next hour and change.

A shadow slowly rolled over him, a dark cloud inching its way past the lip of the archive's roof. As Loki walked, the cloud followed his movements, stopping as he did. Loki jerked his head right, catching movement at the edge of his vision. It had looked like a bush across the lawn had rustled. Casting a suspicious gaze across his surroundings, Loki set off again towards the city proper, the cloud inching closer and closer behind him.

A flash of light preceded the peal of thunder by milliseconds, the usual delay between lightning and thunder rendered moot by its proximity. The lightning reached out toward the ground and up to the sky, scratching gnarled fingers of light across the heavens and burning a patch of ground black at the same time. Loki's heart rate doubled as the sound met his ears, eyes widening and his lips pulling back into a panicked grimace.

Whirling about, his cape flowing across his back like a silken river, he jerked his head up. Spots burst across his field of vision as another round of lightning burst forth. Loki answered with a blast of magical bolts from his horn, directing them to the offending cloud in a rapid-fire volley that tore neat holes through its puffy body.

“Hey, hey, hey!” A feminine voice met him, followed swiftly by its owner appearing atop the cloud. Technicolor mane blackened and steaming, Rainbow Dash glared down at her friend and benefactor. “Can't you take a joke, Mr. Grumpy?” She reached up to try and beat the black out of her mane, succeeding only in further ruining whatever style it had left.

“Rainbow Dash.” Loki stared up at the pegasus, his entire body moving with the force of his labored breathing. He realized he was almost shaking with panic, a cold sweat rolling across his brow. Snapping his eyes shut, he forced his limbs to quiet their impending tremors, straightening himself up. When he opened his eyes again, his world was filled with pink, dominated by a pair of blue orbs.

“I told you, Dashie,” Pinkie Pie said, leaning back from her extreme close-up with Loki. “He needed a joke, all right! Just look at him, wound up tighter than the spring in a jack-in-the-box!” Illustrating her point, Pinkie Pie hopped back onto her poofy tail and launched herself up into the sky, giggling all the way.

“I did not know you two were going to be in town,” Loki spoke, repressing the urge to strangle one or both of them. Pinkie squealed her way back down to earth, landing on her hooves without so much as a scratch.

“There's a big, awesome, super-duper candy shop opening on the Canterlot Square! Dashie and I never miss a chance to pig out on a big bowl of sweets!” Pinkie Pie licked her lips for emphasis.

Rainbow Dash landed next to Loki, laying a forelimb around his shoulders and pulling him into an embrace. “And we thought it would be fun to pull a little prank on our new best friend in Canterlot. We totally got you, too! You should've seen the look on your face!” Rainbow laughed heartily, Pinkie giggling along with her.

“Hilarious,” Loki deadpanned before sliding out from under Rainbow Dash's hoof. “However, as much as I would like to talk with you two, my time is short. I must fetch lunch and then get back to work.”

Pinkie frowned, furrowing her brows together. “Awww! But we just got here, Loki!”

“Yeah,” Dash agreed, stepping in front of Loki before he could slip away. “C'mon, you can prank someone, too. It's only fair.”

“Oo! Oo!” Pinkie raised her hoof, grinning. “Do me, Loki! I love a good prank!”

Loki sighed, shaking his head. “No, no, no. That would not work at all. You would be expecting it. No, a good prank...” Slamming his eyes shut, he jerked his head from side to side. “That is beside the point. Girls, I am on my lunch break. It's a tight schedule as it is.” Gauging the defeated looks on their faces, Loki decided it was now or never. Nodding respectfully, he made to leave.

“It's all right, Pinkie,” Dash said as Loki walked away. “We can find something else to do. I bet he's terrible at pranking, anyway.”

Loki stopped in mid-stride, his ears perking up. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” Dash challenged, grinning ear-to-ear as Loki looked back at her. “All that stuff about a 'tight schedule'? You're covering cuz you can't top our prank!”

Loki narrowed his eyes. “This is a childish attempt to goad me.” The moment held, air stretching out between the three ponies, until Loki smirked. “And it is working.”

Rainbow Dash's reddish eyes grew wide for a second before she returned the smirk. “Of course it did! Nobody can resist a good prank.” She trotted forward, moving to walk right past Loki. “C'mon, Pinkie. I know the perfect guy we can – ”

Loki stuck out his forelimb, halting Dash's progress. “Let us get this straight, Rainbow Dash.” A twinkle of mischief danced in Loki's magenta eyes, a smile he hadn't worn in what felt like centuries painting across his features. “If we are going to 'prank' somepony, we are going to do it my way.”

“Sounds like somepony's already got another pony in mind, Dashie!” Pinkie Pie grinned, leaning in from behind her best friend to grin at Loki. “That's it, huh? Huh, huh, huh?”

“One pony?” Loki's smile turned into a grin, sending a flutter of unease traveling through Rainbow's stomach. Turning his back on the brightly-colored mares, Loki walked into Canterlot's winding streets. That grin only grew wider. “Ladies, you think far too small.”

“This soup is cold!” Jet Set pushed the offending bowl back with his hoof, the tepid liquid splashing out to smack across the face of his unfortunate waiter. “Make it again, and do try to do it properly this time!”

“Yes sir, Mr. Set. Right away, Mr. Set.” The waiter nodded, swiftly levitating the dish away and fleeing back to the safety of the kitchen. Jet Set huffed indignantly, rearranging himself on his posh sitting pillow.

The outdoor bistro was a few blocks uptown from Loki's breakfast hangout, and as such it attracted a far more cosmopolitan, trendy crowd. Save for Jet Set and his wife Upper Crust, the ponies dining on the well-made patio furniture were the model of polite dignity and quiet grace. With their overly-expensive, attention-calling clothing, the married pair stood out like a sore thumb amongst Canterlot's elite.

Loki, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie stood in an alley mere yards from the bistro, Loki watching with a calculating look in his eye.

“Those two,” he murmured conspiratorially, turning to his comrades-in-arms. “They shall be the subject of my prank today.”

“Aww, yeah.” Rainbow Dash grinned, rubbing her forehooves together with glee. “I've always wanted to take those two down a notch. Can you believe they had the nerve to imply me and Pinkie and the others weren't good enough to be seen with Rarity?”

“They are a couple of stupidheads,” Pinkie agreed, sticking her tongue out with derision. Her blue eyes widened with interest, the pink pony practically prancing with anticipation. “Oo, oo, are you gonna put itching powder down their backs? Oo! Or maybe – ”

“Or maybe Pinkie Pie can be quiet before we all get pinched?” Rainbow Dash hissed at her friend, wings spreading threateningly. Pinkie blushed and grinned, reaching up to zip up her mouth with a quick motion. Loki didn't bother asking how or why at this point.

Reaching up, Loki carefully removed his helmet and set it aside. His armor and cape glowed a soft, golden tone before slipping off his body, back to its own pocket dimension. Setting his haunches down, he shrugged off his saddlebags, pushing them back with a hind hoof. Now as nude as every other pony, Loki shook his head to loosen up his slick, black mane, his tail bushing up with the motion.

“There. Wish me luck, girls.” Loki trotted out of the alley without waiting for their sentiments, marching across the cobblestone street as if he owned it. Keeping his eyes straight ahead, making sure not to look his targets in the eye, he took up a seat to their direct north, his back to the pair. Without his signature clothing, neither of the high-toned and fancy ponies distinguished him from the crowd.

Raising a menu up to cover his face, he winked at the slick pages of the thin parchment. A thin sheet of ice appeared on either corner of the menu, flattening to a mirror shine and giving him a perfect rear-view of his unsuspecting prankees. The pair sipped their tea, their noses turned up as the waiter returned with a fresh bowl of soup. It steamed in the midday air, a few bubbles forming at the edges.

“Terribly sorry about that, sir and madam.” The waiter bowed to them, gulping softly as he levitated a pot forth, refilling their tea glasses and bowing again. “Will there be anything else?”

“Yes,” Upper Crust sniffed, lowering her nose slightly to glower at the servant. “You will tell your manager that because of this oversight, we shall be taking our meal for free today.”

“F-for free?” The waiter's face was almost comical in its shock, his eyes moving back and forth between the two.

“Goodness gracious,” Jet Set groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Jet, darling, it's no wonder he's working such a menial position; he has sawdust for brains.” Self-satisfied snorts followed his little insult. The fur on Loki's middle back bristled.

“Yes, of course for free, you dolt.” Upper Crust glared down at the waiter, raising a perfectly-shaped eyebrow. “Unless you'd like me to tell some very important friends about the lackluster service at this establishment.”

“Yes, of course. For free.” The stallion's face was a poor excuse for neutral, looking as if he was two seconds away from doing something that might get him fired. “I'll inform management. Excuse me.” Turning on his hind hooves, he marched away, fuming silently.

“What is this world coming to?” Jet Set lifted his spoon, blowing on the piping hot liquid before prissily slurping it down. His eyes widened and he turned his head, spewing the soup back out in an undignified spray.

“Waiter! The bloody soup is cold! Again!” Jet looked at his soup bowl, the once bubbling liquid absolutely still, a thin crust of ice caked over its surface. His wife grunted at him, making him tsk in disgust. “We use our words, darling, not – darling!”

Upper Crust grunted again, her voice filled with panic. The tea was frozen in a solid chunk around the tip of her tongue, the pink muscle hanging from the side of her muzzle. She reached up and tried to pull the offending cup off, whimpering as her tongue pulled with it.

“Now now, dear. Let me try.” Jet's voice cracked as he fought to remain calm, his wife's teacup glowing with his magic. He pulled it up and gave it a tug, pulling a painful squeal from Upper Crust. Shrinking away from her glare, he tried again, getting another shriek from her as a reward. His cheeks burned as he realized that the entire bistro had gone silent, every eye in the fashionable restaurant turned onto the scene they were making.

“Let me see if I can do it manually. I – ” Jet went to get up, only to find that his hindquarters refused to budge. Looking down, he gasped. His rump was flash-frozen against a solid block of ice that used to be his expensive sitting pillow. He grunted and tried to rise up again, tears forming at the edges of his eyes.

Upper Crust whined and pulled on her teacup, her tongue swelling up at its constant abuse and only further impeding her progress. With a final painful pull, the teacup and its frozen contents flew off, separating in mid-air. The teacup shattered against the brick edifice of a building across the road, while the frozen cup-shaped tea landed in the beehive mane of another restaurant patron. A lark landed on her mane, pecking at the frozen treat and causing the poor mare to scream in fright.

Rip! The sound of a great piece of cloth drowned out the poor, scared mare as Jet Set finally pulled himself free of his frozen seat. He burned bright with embarrassment, the entire crowd's voice rising with laughter at the sight of his hairless rump, his fur imbedded in his seat's icy structure.

“Thtop it! Thtop tthhhat laffing!” Upper Crust's swollen tongue flopped about outside her muzzle, landing her with a lisp and only serving to increase the crowd's peals of laughter. Her eyes burning with anger, she whipped about, turning her gaze on the waiter. He was laughing as well, tears flowing down his cheeks.

“You little twit! I'll have your job!” Upper screeched. The waiter gasped and recoiled, and she grinned. Whatever happened, she still had her close, important friends, and that was what mattered. When she looked at her husband, her grin faltered. He stared back at her with a look of horror and revulsion. Fanning her eyes around the crowd, she saw that every other pony shared his look.

“What?” She asked lamely, only to draw back as her vision was filled with something blurry, green, and undulating. The strange vision hissed at her, and with mounting anxiety Upper Crust realized that it was a snake. Not just a snake, but a snake on top of her head! Looking up, she caught sight of what was now her mane – a large, moving mass of hissing, fanged snakes.

Panic seized her heart and she shrieked, turning from the restaurant and running pellmell through the street. Jet Set followed, calling his wife's name, leaving the guffawing crowd behind him. Within seconds, they turned a corner and vanished, Jet Set's pink, bare behind the last thing the bistro patrons saw.

Loki smirked, setting his menu down and watching them go. His horn stopped glowing, the evidence of his crimes melting away as fast as he'd been able to conjure them. Within moments, no trace of his little prank would remain. Raising a hoof, he called the waiter over.

“Yes sir,” the waiter said, wiping tears from his eyes. He held up his notepad, giving Loki a large smile. “What can I get you today?”

“A round of tea for three, my good stallion.”

“Tea for three. When will the rest of your party be arriving, do you think?”

Loki looked over his shoulder, spying Rainbow and Pinkie in the alleyway. They were stacked one atop the other, heaving with laughter, tears flowing down their cheeks.

“I would give it about fifteen minutes, I think.” Loki grinned wide, chuckling.

“Whew, I'm stuffed.” Pinkie Pie pressed a hoof to her stomach, cheeks growing large as she burped. Blushing, she covered her mouth and squeaked out an apology.

“Me, too. Thanks for lunch, Loki.” Rainbow Dash grinned as the three of them walked out of the hustle and bustle of the Canterlot crowd, their hooves smushing down the soft green grass surrounding the archives.

Loki smiled, nodding graciously to his two friends. “Not at all. Thank you for your surprising arrival.” Stopping in front of the tall, strong double doors, Loki turned to face the two ponies. He once again wore his helmet and armor, the golden sheen of his curves horns glinting in the midday sun. “I must say, I have not had this much fun in...quite a while.” His smile faltered, eyes glazing over.

“Loki?” Pinkie Pie tilted her head, curled mane bouncing with her movements. “You all right? You look kinda sad there.”

Recovering his composure, Loki shook his head. “Quite all right, Pinkie Pie. I was just reminiscing.” Looking at Rainbow Dash, he inclined his head. “I owe you an apology, Rainbow Dash. I am sorry I shot at you before. I thought you were someone else.”

Dash laughed, waving her hoof. “Nah, it's cool. It was worth it to prank a good friend.” She looked up at the archives, motioning behind her. “Sure you can't take the day off, Loki? That candy story is totally awesome.”

“Yeah, they've got a spool of licorice this big!” Pinkie Pie reared back on her hind limbs, stretching her hooves out as wide as they would go.

Loki's smile turned indulgent as he shook his head. “I am afraid not. The university students depend on my archives to help them pass their exams.” Hovering a few bits from his saddlebags, he tossed them into Pinkie Pie's mane. “But you can eat my share if you wish.”

Pinkie Pie grinned ear-to-ear and brought her strange friend into a big, strong hug. “Okie dokie, Loki!” She squeaked happily, pulling back and hopping away. “Come on, Dashie! We've got so much candy to eat!”

“All right, Pinkie!” Dash called to the pink pony. Regarding Loki, she reached up and pressed a hoof to one of his horns. “You know, you oughta go without this more often. You look good without it.”

Loki scrunched up his face, looking up at his helmet. “I am an Asgardian. I cannot abandon my traditional dress.”

“No, you're an Equestrian.” Rainbow Dash smiled, holding out her hoof for a hoofbump. “You're one of us now, Loki.”

Loki stared at the offered hoof, flitting his eyes between it and Rainbow's face. Slowly, he held out his own, touching it to hers as his helmet began to glow. Slowly it faded away, followed by his armor and cape. Left only with his saddlebags, he looked back at himself.

“I look good like this, then?” He asked, a stray lock of mane falling into his face.

“Yeah, totally.” Rainbow Dash grinned, oblivious to the rose tint on her cheeks. An awkward pause fell over the two of them until Rainbow withdrew her hoof, perhaps a little too rapidly.

“Anyway, I gotta get goin'. Someone's gotta keep an eye on Pinkie, y'know. Later!” She spread her wings and slammed then downward, pushing herself off and fleeing toward Canterlot, that rose tint growing deeper on her cheeks.

Loki tilted his head to the side, watching her leave. His smile broadened as he chuckled throatily, turning away to open his archives once again.

The night sky twinkled with hundreds of thousands of stars, casting their faint glow down through the domed skylight of Loki's private quarters. Candles guttered in their wall-mounts, filling the small, circular room with a warm, flickering light. Seating behind his reading desk, Loki silently pored over a spellbook by Starswirl the Bearded, one of many of its kinds found at the Canterlot Library.

Set on a small pile of books next to his desk, a small record player turned its current disc at a slow, lazy pace. The sounds of a gentle piano tumbled forth out of the player's large, conical loudspeaker, filling the small room with its scratchy, warm sound. Every minute or so, the old paper crinkled as Loki turned it.

A small tap on his bedside window drew Loki's attention away from his reading. He looked at the window, eyes narrowing slowly. A few seconds passed, Loki's ears standing straight up. Shrugging his shoulders imperceptibly, he turned back to his book. As soon as his eyes left the window, another tap, louder this time, filled the room.

Loki sighed, closing his book and setting it down. Rising, he trotted over to his bedside window, looking out into the moonlit night. A tall tree waved its leaves in front of the window, the blurred lights of the palace dancing in the distance. As he watched, the windows rattled, banging back and forth against their locks.

Finally the locks shot upward and the windows burst open, letting in a flowing, curling fog of anti-light. The smoke quickly bellowed over Loki's bed, flitting around him and swirling in a circle through his room's tall, domed ceiling.

“Hello, Luna,” Loki said, closing the window once again and locking it with his magic. He looked up at the formless mass above him, raising an eyebrow. “You know, using the same entrance more than once tends to cheapen the value of its first use.”

“Oh, you are no fun at all,” Luna responded, her voice deep and resonant. The black fog slammed down into the wooden floor, curling in on itself to form Luna's shape. Opening her eyes, Luna smiled at her host. Spreading her wings, she cleared the last bit of her magical smoke, stepping forward as her own self, tucking her wings back against her side.

“Then I do wonder what it is that brings you back here every night.” Loki smirked, looking at the chess board in the corner. With great care, he levitated it closer, drawing a pile of books under it at the center of the room. Sitting down behind his black army, he offered her a place across from him.

“Your enigmatic personality, of course.” Luna retorted, seating herself and taking a look at the board. Her horn glowed, and she twisted it around, putting the black army at her front. “Also, that was a nice attempt.” Her smile turned into a grin as she moved one of her knights, picking up right where they had left off.

Loki shrugged, his smile self-effacing. “It was worth a shot.” He picked up his rook, shuffling it several spaces forward.

Luna looked her opponent over, tilting her head to the side. “You aren't wearing your armor,” she said, her tone both a statement and a question.

Loki reached up to brush that same errant lock of mane out of his face. “I have been here for nearly a full month now.” He took one of Luna's pawns as she offered it up for sacrifice, leaning back on his haunches. “Rainbow Dash said, and I believe I am beginning to agree: I am an Equestrian. Since Equestrians do not normally wear clothing, I figured it only proper that I do not, as well.”

Luna's smile grew. Her horn glowed, but rather than a chess piece, she floated over the pair of wineglasses and the dwindling bottle of fine Equestrian wine. “This calls for a toast.”

“I do not see why,” Loki said, genuinely perplexed. “I simply took off my helmet and my armor.”

“You are beginning to accept your new life here, Loki.” Luna popped the cork from its shaft, pouring a small measure of the thick, blood-red liquid into each glass. “I think – I hope – that our world might become more to you than a simple sanctuary.” She raised her glass, light blue eyes shining.

Loki took his glass, gazing at the liquid contemplatively. Long seconds passed over the chessboard as he digested her words.

“A home,” he said finally, looking up at her. “That is what you mean, is it not?”

Luna shrugged. “Something like that, I suppose. So let us toast to that: to a new home!” She raised her glass, smiling in her intense, gregarious manner.

“To a new home,” Loki responded, his voice reserved and unsure by comparison. He gently struck his glass against her own, tipping it back to let the warm alcohol flow down his throat. Despite its best efforts, the inebriating nature of the wine did little to calm the twisting knots in his stomach.

For several days afterward, Loki's life in Equestria continued in much the same fashion as it had before. He awoke at dawn to serve the public throughout the day. Relaxing to read in the evening, his nights were consumed by playing chess with Luna. And, as before, the contents of the Restricted section remained closed off to him, as no pony came with the special seal that would grant access.

Until one day...

“Wait! Wait!” The bedraggled earth pony charged across the lawn of the archives, rushing as fast as he could to reach the double doors before they closed. The sky was stained a dark orange from the setting sun, birds calling in the trees dotting the green field.

“I am sorry,” Loki said, looking at the young stallion with what he hoped looked like genuine regret. “We are closed for today. Please come see us tomorrow morning at 8 AM.”

“This can't wait,” the stallion responded, panting heavily as he stuck his hoof between the doors. “I'm the new sous chef in the Royal Palace. The master chef just handed this to me and told me to retrieve it A.S.A.P.” Leaning his head back, he gripped the small paper extruding from his saddlebags, leaning out for Loki to take it.

Loki sighed, taking the paper. “Very well. However, I am afraid that I shall only have it by the morning, as we are still scheduled to close.”

“As soon as you can, sir.” The stallion's breathing slowed, and he reached up to wipe a bit of sweat from his brow. “We need it for the Founder's Day celebration next week.”

Looking down at the request slip, he scanned his eyes over the contents. Finished, he did it a second time. After the second time, he did it a third time, just to be certain.

“Sir?” The sous chef raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as Loki began to laugh.

“Well, I'll be damned...” Loki said, shaking his head slowly, his voice edged with that disbelieving laughter. The request spoke of a book containing the Princesses' favorite recipes.

A bright red seal, still glossy, had been put in the box marked Restricted Section Special Permission.

Say The Word

The flat edifice of the Restricted Section stood mere feet in front of Loki. Floating inches to the right of his head was the slip of paper that would grant him entrance to the enigmatic innards of the archives. A victorious smirk creased the edges of his mouth.

The door suddenly glowed a light amber hue. His paper was forcibly grabbed from his magical grip by an invisible hand. The paper flattened out as the door flashed a beam of light over its surface. The crimson seal fizzled and popped, burning away into the aether. Loki's muzzle scrunched as the smell of ozone teased his nose.

The light flickered dead without a sound. The permission slip fluttered to the ground unceremoniously, crumpling in on itself. Loki gazed down at the yellow piece of paper, then back up at the door as it began to pull open with a harsh grating sound.

The room beyond awoke with the buzzing of electric lamps. Lights hung low from the ceiling guttered and flickered to pale light, slowly heating up to full luminescence after long years of dormancy. Their cones of yellow light illuminated a room many times larger than Loki's. Tables and filing cabinets ran its length all the way to a tall, tightly packed bookcase on the far end. The dusty smell of age hung like a cloying mire throughout the room.

Stepping inside, Loki cast his gaze upon the items arranged neatly on the plain black-topped tables. Narrowing his eyes, he turned his head left and right. He scanned the plaque designating each box's contents as he slowly trotted the length of the room.

"This is..." His face scrunched into a look of incredulity, turning around to look back to the door. It had closed behind him.

"This is...junk." Loki sighed. He looked at a faded black book kept on a small pedestal inside a clear case. On The Possibility Of The Division of the Indivisible Elements of Life by Dr. Hockenheimer. On closer inspection, an aging seal at the bottom corner of the glass case read Redacted: Public Safety, by Order of the Princess.

"Fission?" Loki's question was a bare whisper of confusion. He swung his head around to read the title of another book and then another. "Petroleum products? Interconnected computers? No, no, no, no!" He stamped his hoof, trotting to the back of the room to gaze up at the tall bookshelf.

"Useless, useless! Where are the curses? Where are the secrets, the skeletons?" Loki frowned as the complete collection of Equestrian Flora and Fauna stared blindly back at him. Mere inches to his left, a single book stuck a few bare inches out of alignment with its kin.

"Cursed ponies," Loki growled. He punctuated his frustration by reaching up and forcefully pushing the offending book back into place. He leaned forward, resting his head against the bookshelf and closing his eyes. "Weeks of waiting, for a glorified museum."

For a few seconds, Loki simply drowned in his crushing ennui. A slow shuffling sound awoke him from his fugue. He pulled back, looking to his right to see another thick-backed book as it slowly slid out place.

His frown deepening, Loki reached up and slammed the book back. As soon as it had been soundly shown who was the boss, another book a few shelves higher slid defiantly out of sync. Tilting his head back to peer up at the rebellious tome, a snarl of frustration left Loki's throat. His horn lit up and a sheet of magic slammed the book in.

Again another book pushed itself out of alignment, and again Loki showed it the error of its ways. With each passing second, Loki's face pulled tighter and tighter, his teeth showing in a vicious sneer. His horn sparked as he struggled against the strange bookshelf as multiple books at a time began to push themselves out.

Uttering an inhuman cry of frustration, Loki reared up on his hind legs and slammed his hooves down. His horn sparked and guttered as he raised up a thick, tall sheet of solid magic. The wall glittered gold and green, covering the height and width of the bookshelf. He grunted and strained as sweat beaded on his forehead. The wall of magic pushed down against the tomes, forcing them back into their proper place.

His barrier melted away as he relinquished control. The bookshelf stood as silent as it had before. Not a single tome moved.

Loki nodded curtly, his nostrils flaring with a snort of satisfaction.

"Weeks," he whispered. Shaking his head with closed eyes, he turned his back to the room and marched to the door. He yanked the cookbook from its plinth almost as an afterthought.

"I wash myself of this entire mistake." The door scraped open in front of him. Loki continued a few more steps before stopping dead in his tracks, his ears swiveling about.

The door stood still and yet the scraping sound continued. Looking over his shoulder, Loki saw that the large bookcase was moving. It had split down the middle, each half pulling away from the center. Slowly it revealed a pitch-black room beyond. Loki raised an eyebrow as his jaw dropped open. He closed his lips quickly and trotted back into the room.

The air beyond flowed out to greet him, cold across his face and musty to his nose. He stretched his neck forward, peering into the black void. Silence descended over him like a thick blanket. Every second drew out like a knife's edge. His heartbeat was as the crashing of a wave against a beach inside his ears.

Bright, sterile light flashed to life in front of him. Loki hissed through his teeth and jerked his eyes away, raising a forelimb to shield himself. Spots popped to life in his vision. Ever so slowly, he adjusted and the spots disappeared. Opening his eyes, he peered into the chamber beyond the bookcase.

A circular antechamber stood in front of him, bare brick rising up past a single, low-hanging lamp that buzzed with electricity. A wooden pedestal stood at center, a book placed upon its flat, angled top. The book was bound with a dark brown, leather-like material, age cracking its edges. Elegant golden thread embroidered the face of a pony in profile. The figure appeared to be a stallion of advanced years, wearing a great beard that tumbled down his front as well as a pointed, star-patterned hat.

A title was also embroidered near the bottom of the book. The language was brutal and ancient yet strangely similar to the current written word of Equestria. Loki read over the simple line again and again, pouring his massive intellect into puzzling out its intention. Meaning fell into place mere seconds later.

Personal Journal, Property of Starswirl the Bearded, it read.

A wicked grin cut across Loki's sharp features.

Loki set the book down on his room's desk. A record slowly turned on his player, filling Loki's quarters with a slow, bittersweet piano tune. Candles guttered as the sun set, their warm, welcoming light crawling up the curved walls. He tasted the last of a small salad he had prepared as he licked some remaining vinaigrette from his lips.

Floating a glass of wine close, he took a sip and set it back down. "You are a curious find," he mused as the dry flavor raced down his throat. His horn glowed and the book carefully opened. The spine creaked in protest, its yellowed pages stiff as they settled into place.

Loki blinked. There weren't any words on the pages. Thin horizontal lines denoted spaces for its owner to write out his thoughts, and yet it looked at if nobody had ever laid pen to paper. Loki's horn lit up as he gingerly flipped through the pages of the journal. Each new page was as blank as the next. Loki only realized he was gritting his teeth when his jaw began to hurt.

"Was this entire world made just to tease me?" He hissed, slamming the book closed with no mind for its brittleness.

"Aw, someone's mad." A resonant male voice filled Loki's chambers. He jumped up to all fours, pulling away from his desk. Scanning his eyes around him, he tilted his head up. Nothing stood beyond his room's skylight besides the slowly darkening sky.

"Down here, sharp stuff," said the voice once again. Loki's heart beat faster as realization set in: the book was talking to him. On its own, the journal opened, its pages settling to the very center of the ancient tome.

Loki stepped closer. As he watched, the thin guidelines on the pages were moving across the page as if alive. Each line bent and reformed according to some hidden agenda. Within seconds, what had began as a jumble of meaningless lines resembled an image of a pony from the neck up.

The facsimile of a bearded pony opened his drawn eyes, looking up from the journal to peer at Loki. "Well," Starswirl said, smirking his thin-lined mouth. "You're not me, that's for sure."

Loki opened his mouth to say something, closing it and then opening again. "Are you not you? Starswirl the Bearded?"

"Please." Starswirl rolled his eyes, waving away the question with a hoof that, until he moved it into the 'frame' of the book page, hadn't existed. "If I was going to place myself in something to live forever, I'd choose something a bit more mobile than my own journal. I'm just an incredibly complex spell meant to mimic my own personality. The real Starswirl is long dead."

Loki stepped closer to his desk, staring down at the living illustration looking back up at him. "Extraordinary," he breathed, seating himself. He pressed a hoof against the yellowed page.

Starswirl leaned away from Loki's hoof, grimacing. "Now, now, sonny. You haven't even taken me to dinner yet."

"Apologies." Loki pulled his hoof back, his magenta eyes alight with almost child-like curiosity. "I can create mirror images of myself and invest them with the illusion of life. To create something so convincing and complex, and to have it work so long after one has passed away..."

"Mirror images?" Starswirl leaned in closer, the page remaining flat while his illustrated face contorted to give his face the appearance of three dimensions. "That's quite advanced magic for someone so young."

Loki smirked, leaning back. His body contorted, swirling like a soap bubble as two copies of himself split off. They sat down beside him as all three smirked in unison. "Well," the three Lokis said, "I'm either a bit older than I look, or I'm just that talented."

"Bravo!" Starswirl clapped with his front hooves. Genuine respect was painted across his aging features. "Perfect copies, no alterations or mutations. You are certainly as talented as you say."

"Thank you, thank you." Loki's voices melted back into a single tone as his copies rejoined with their original. He favored Starswirl's illustrated doppelganger with a raised eyebrow. "Now that we've been properly introduced, I hope you will permit me to ask the obvious question: are you the only entry in this journal?"

Starswirl grinned, showing off long, thin teeth. "Curious young unicorn. Then again, our kind were always the curious ones. Experimenting, writing, collating." He pressed a hoof to his beard, stroking through it thoughtfully and fixing Loki with an enigmatic stare. "There are other things in this journal, yes."

"Such as?" Loki's tone was deliberately neutral.

"Potion recipes. Spell incantations. Love poems. Things of that nature." Now it was Starswirl's turn to raise an inquisitive brow. "I'm sure you're not just making idle chat. You don't seem the kind for that."

"Indeed." Loki drew himself straighter, for the moment missing the extra gravitas his armor provided him. "I wish to see the contents of your journal."

Starswirl also straightened himself up. Pressing a hoof to his mouth, he closed his eyes and coughed, the sound wet and hoarse. Setting his hoof down, he opened his eyes and spoke.

"To show you seek

Knowledge deserved

Please now speak

The Magic Word."

The poem settled over Loki like a wet blanket, drawing his brows closer together and deepening his natural frown. "A riddle?"

"A riddle," Starswirl confirmed. His features lit up with a teasing grin. "One I'm sure such a learned, worldly unicorn should be able to answer in a second."

Loki clenched his jaw, settling back on his haunches. For a few seconds, he alternated between opening his mouth to speak and shaking his head to stare off into the middle distance.

Starswirl scoffed, shaking his head. "Oh for goodness' sake! The answer's obvious, young'un!"

"There are hundreds of words of power," Loki responded. An edge of frustration was creeping into his voice. He counted at the floor with a huff, glaring down at the ancient illustration. "How am I to know which specific word you mean?"

"There's no penalty for a wrong guess." Starswirl shrugged, leaning back and crossing his forelimbs across his chest. "I've no pressing appointments in my datebook."

"Trial and error is not my nature," Loki breathed, running a hoof through his messy black mane. "And beside the point, you've given me no reason to think such an endeavor is worth the time and effort."

For the first time, it looked like Loki had befuddled the elder pony. "Do you not know to whom you speak? Have you no idea what is contained in this journal? Surely you've heard the legends?"

Loki rolled his eyes and waved away the question. "Indulge me. I am not from around here."

"The Mortis Potion," Starswirl said simply, an altogether different sort of grin stretching his craggy features. "My greatest creation. Simple, elegant, and yet its applications are limitless. It works no matter the condition of the recipient, with one-hundred percent effectiveness." He leaned forward, fixing Loki with an intense stare. "As the name suggests, the potion's power is too great to publish. I hid it away here, to keep it from falling into the wrong hooves."

Loki let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He leaned in closer to the page, his voice barely above a whisper. "Does this potion do what I think it does?"

"Hah!" Starswirl laughed right in Loki's face, shaking his head. "You'll have to get in to find out, young'un. However, I will say that I was not simply tooting my own flugelhorn when I said the applications were limitless." Again he drug a hoof through his beard, his appearance thoughtful. "Why, I'd say it would even work on an alicorn under the right circumstances."

Loki leaned back, forcing his mouth to close lest he appear a slackjawed idiot. Looking out his window, he caught sight of the monolithic palace as it was framed by the last warm vestiges of the setting sun. Its banners flapped in the breeze, images testifying to the greatness of Princess Celestia.

"Pull back on that grin, Loki," Starswirl chuckled. "A pony might think you were up to no good."

Loki faced the book again, drawing back his positively evil grin into a mere self-satisfied smirk. "Well, then," he almost purred. "Shall we get started?"

Loki reached up and rubbed a hoof across his forehead. The beginning of a headache was coalescing behind his eyes.

The evening trailed away, his record player droning out music meant to be relaxing. The stringed instruments only bit into his mind as he struggled to find a word he hadn't yet tried. His horn glowed and the needle scratched, allowing blessed silence to reign over his quarters.

"How in all the hells did you get this job, young'un?" Starswirl reclined in a lineart hammock, forehooves slung behind his head as he rocked side-to-side. "I would have thought a bloody archivist would know the magic word."

"You are not helping," Loki hissed through gritted teeth. "I have tried every word of power in every language I know. I am beginning to suspect you are simply having fun with me."

"You know," Starswirl grunted, sitting up and smirking. "In three hours, you've never actually asked me what the magic word is."

Loki sighed, tilting his head back. "All right. What is the--"

"I mean, I'm not actually going to tell you." Starswirl settled back in his hammock. He sighed and pulled his pointed cap down over his eyes. "I just figured you would have asked the obvious question by now."

The ghost of a laugh trailed from Loki's throat. "Were it not for this Mortis Potion, I would send you through a shredder."

"Promises, promises." Starswirl rolled over and scratched his rear end.

Loki frowned. He slammed the book closed with a glow of his horn. His frown deepened as he closed his eyes tightly.

"Well," he breathed. "Now what?"

"Maybe something to eat?," a feminine voice said.

Loki's eyes snapped open and his entire body went rigid. Slowly turning his head, he saw a grey-furred, blond-maned pegasus sitting next to him. A pair of saddlebags emblazoned with the Equestrian Mail Service were slung across her back. Her askew eyes and empty grin instantly scratched at the inside of Loki's mind.

"Where did you come from?," he practically spat.

"Blame my parents." She giggled.

One of Loki's eyes twitched imperceptibly. "There are many things for which your parents should be blamed. Now—"

"Sssshhh," she said, pressing a hoof to his muzzle.

He smacked her hoof away. "You do you think you are?"

"Ditzy Do the mail mare! My friends call me Derpy!" Ditzy grinned again. She hopped up onto all fours and danced in place. "Guess why I'm here! Guess! Guess!"

Loki closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, slowly exhaling. "Do I have a letter?"

She openly gawped at him. "Wow. You're good at this!"

"Your approval is existentially fulfilling." If Loki's tone were any drier, his tongue might have crumbled and blown away.

"Thanks!" Derpy reached back with her muzzle and fetched the letter from her pack. Loki accepted it with a swipe of his magic.

"Thank you," he said with no gratitude in his voice. He turned his back on her. A few seconds later, he looked over his shoulder. She stood there, grinning at him. Her eyes never quite lined up properly.

"Do you mind?" Loki's eye twitched again.

"Nope!" She sat her rump down. "Don't mind a bit! Thanks for asking."

Bile rose in the back of his throat. For one glorious second, he imagined freezing and then shattering the cock-eyed mare.

"I am sure you have other customers waiting," he said through gritted teeth. "I would not wish to delay you."

She shot up, mouth opening in a small O of shock. "Oh goodness! Thanks for reminding me, Loki. I've got, like, twenty more letters to deliver." She spread her wings out, holding up a hoof and waving. One great flap later, she shot backwards out the open window. Her giddy laughter stabbed into his eardrums.

"Inbred little troglodyte," he grumbled to himself. His horn glowed and his windows slammed closed. Facing his letter, he practically eviscerated the covering into a fog of paper particles. Unfolding it revealed the neat, particular lettering of Twilight Sparkle.

Dear Loki,

Hello! How is everything in Canterlot? I hope you're enjoying your job as the archivist. I wish I could see everything you're seeing! Even the Princess's own faithful student needs a pass to rent a book from the archives.

Since you're new here, you're probably not aware that next week is the annual Founder's Day celebration. It's a day when we celebrate the founding of Canterlot, as well as the coming of the Alicorns. There's going to be a parade and games and all sorts of other things.

The girls and myself will be taking a train up to Canterlot in a week to join in the festivities. We'd be so happy if you'd join us! My foalsitter will be coming as well, and I'd love for you to meet her.

I hope you RSVP in the extremely positive!

Yours in friendship,

Twilight Sparkle.

Loki set the letter down. Closing his eyes, he rubbed a hoof over his forehead. The headache was coming back with a vengeance. "I suppose," he mused to himself. He looked at the journal, sitting so innocently on his desk. "It's not as if I have anything better to do."

In a few minutes, Loki's quill scratched along his parchment. He did indeed RSVP in the extremely positive. He hoped he sounded enthusiastic despite the headache throbbing behind his eyes.

The letter was folded and stuffed in an envelope for only a second before the gray mail mare plucked it from the edge of his desk.

Loki's calm exterior cracked for a split second. He jumped away from Ditzy, face screwing up in anger. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" Ditzy blinked. Her eyes yet again came within centimeters of matching up before going completely cattywumpus.

Loki's shoulders sagged. "Never mind," he sighed with defeat. He opened one of his drawers and tossed her a few bits. "Keep the change."

Ditzy grinned. Deftly she turned her body and caught the bits in her open saddlebags. "Thanks, Loki!" And once again, she flew ass-first through the open window.

Loki stared after her. The tick-tock-tick-tock of his wall clock filled his quarters. He turned to face his desk as his headache blared like a fire engine behind his eyes. With a soft thud, he pressed his forehead down against the edge of his desk. Time escaped him.

"Loki?" A deeper, yet still feminine, voice filled his ears. Luna glided gracefully into his room, landing without a sound. She tucked her wings against her body and stared with concern at Loki's back. "You know your windows are wide open, do you not?"

Loki laughed tiredly.

Loki worked tirelessly over the next week to suss out the password. It was not long before his personal repertoire of magical incantations was exhausted. He then delved into the archives themselves. Stacks of books, parchments, and codices were recalled to glean whatever tidbits of information they contained. A week later, the password still lay outside Loki's grasp.

Decorations had begun to creep into the city during that week. Banners proclaiming the greatness of the Princesses fluttered from rooftops and windows. Tour guides led foreigners, students, and tourists through the winding streets to show off ancient landmarks. What seemed like thousands of merchants appeared a day before the celebration, setting up their carts in preparation to hawk their wares.

Founder's Day. A carnival-like atmosphere descended upon the city. Ponies crowded the street, playing games and buying trinkets they didn't need. Gigantic floats were lassoed by thick cords above the city's stone buildings. The city teemed and roared with the hooves and voices of hundreds of thousands of ponies.

Loki continued to work.

"Do you have any friends?" Starswirl reclined on his hammock. The hand-drawn wizard flipped through an equally illustrated magazine. "Other than that smoking-hot princess, of course."

Loki rubbed his temple. His room was in shambles. All manner of books and codices were scattered around the edges of his circular quarters. Parchment spilled over in great piles on the floor. Even his bed had been taken over by the mess.

"It sounds like there's a big party going on out there." Starswirl flipped his magazine to the side. He grinned as a folded page fell out into his lap. "If you want my professional advice, you need to go out and have some fun."

"Fun is the purview of mortals." Loki said the word 'fun' as others would say 'pus'.

"Such a humble unicorn," Starswirl riposted. He looked out of the book and sighed. "Loki, you've been at this for a week. A little fresh air and social interaction might offer you a new perspective."

Loki sniffed at the idea. Even so, he closed the book. He swept his eyes over his room and sighed.

"Perhaps the sketch is right," he sighed.

"I heard that," came a muffled voice from the book. Loki smirked.

Loki had never seen the streets of Canterlot so active. He pushed shoulder-to-shoulder through the small, winding streets. His golden armor gleamed in the light of guttering streetlamps. As he approached his destination, the dull roar became an unavoidable cacophony.

He rounded a corner and walked into the same circular hub he'd seen on his first day in Canterlot. The large expanse had been overtaken by booths of every different stripe. Delicious foods both foreign and domestic were sold at exorbitant prices as their smells mixed with the odor of thousands of ponies; clowns laughed and jeered from target-collapsible seats above tubs of water; fabulous prizes hung for foals of all ages to compete over in multitudes of games. Discord's statue stood in the central fountain where some enterprising young stallion offered to take a picture of any pony with the fallen god. For a small fee, of course.

Into this controlled chaos strolled Loki. He kept to the outside of the main flow of traffic as he took in each booth with his cool, collected gaze. His stomach suddenly grumbled at him loud enough to carry over the maelstrom of talking and music.

A few minutes and several bits later, Loki stared at the gigantic pink fluff that was a batch of cotton candy. "So this is what Pinkie went on and on about," he mused. The sweet string melted in his mouth as he took a bite. The sweetness was overbearing yet not altogether unpleasant. He licked his lips and shrugged, taking another bite and walking on.

The crush of ponies ebbed and flowed like surf against a beach. Sometimes Loki could walk freely; at other times, he had to push and shove through a veritable wall of technicolor equines. It wasn't until he heard an indignant squeak that he realized he'd actually run into one of them.

"Excuse me," he said. No pony answered and none in his immediate field of vision seemed out of sorts.

"Loki!" The squeaky voice came again, and Loki looked down. Sweetie Belle grinned up at the armored stallion. She stood up onto all fours and looked behind her. "Girls! I found Loki!" Three others fillies trotted out from the crowd. Loki recognized Scootaloo and Applebloom. The third filly was a light purple unicorn with a blond mane.

"Hello, Cutie Mark Crusaders," Loki said. The familiarity of their moniker could not separate it from how inherently silly it felt to say. "I am afraid I do not recognize your friend."

"I'm Dinky." The purple unicorn smiled politely. She bowed her head and gave what seemed to be the pony version of a curtsy. "Pleased to meet you, Loki. My fellow Crusaders told me all about you and your awesome ice magic. I'd love to see it sometime."

A smile stole across Loki's face. Were he any other person, Dinky's polite and unassuming character would have been utterly heartwarming. "The pleasure is mine, Dinky. Sweetie, are the Elements with you?"

"Yeah, they're right around..." Sweetie trailed off as she looked behind herself. "Oh no." Her ears drooped along with her shoulders.

Applebloom shook her head. "I told ya y'shouldn't have run off like that."

"It's not my fault!" Sweetie squeaked again. "I saw Loki's horns and I knew they were looking for him and--"

Scootaloo sucked in a breath between her teeth. "Rarity is gonna be so mad."

"Now, now," Loki said. "I am sure we can find them if we all look together." Loki made a motion with his hoof. "Stand around me and let's retrace your steps."

The Cutie Mark Crusaders voiced their approval of the plan in their usual manner. Loki wondered if it was really equivalent to having an ice pick shoved in his ear. Perhaps he was exaggerating.

The Crusaders formed up into a square around him and the five of them trotted through the crowd. Loki's stature as well as his armor helped to push through the crush of ponies in front of them. Every once in a while, one of the fillies would pipe up with directions and the group would shift course to compensate.

When Sweetie Belle gasped, Loki smiled. He followed her through the crowd as she took off. The Crusaders came with him as they finally came through the main thoroughfare. Loki furrowed his brows when he found Sweetie standing in front of a vendor's booth, gazing up at a rack of prizes.

"It's so fluffy!" She squeaked again, staring up at a big, pink fluffy doll. It looked like a pony with a fur problem to Loki. Sweetie rounded on Loki and her eyes seemed to grow twice as wide. "Oh please can't we try to get it? Oh please please please?"

Loki raised an eyebrow. "I do not think we should be getting distracted. We need to find your friends. They are probably quite worried about you."

The four fillies stood in a row in front of Loki. Their eyes bulged and their bottom lips quivered. Scootaloo even let out a plaintive whimper.

"Please?" Their voices rang out in unison.

Loki snorted derisively. "You are trying to appeal to my sympathies using your own natural adorableness."

The fillies backed away a step. They looked at one another as a card player would when caught cheating.

"No we're not!" Scootaloo objected. Her voice wavered and cracked.

"Don't be ashamed." Loki smirked, his horn glowing as he pulled a few bits from his saddlebags. He set them down on the counter in front the rough-looking attendant. He leaned down and pressed his hoof against Scootaloo's muzzle. "Just try not to be so obvious next time. Subtlety is key, Scootaloo."

"You're up, little lady!" The attendant, a burly Earth pony with a small cap and a five-o-clock shadow, set a trio of balls down on the counter. A strange contraption, catapult-like in appearance, was attached by a swivel to the counter. At the far end of the booth stood a tower of milk bottles, ten in total. "Knock the tower down, and you get to walk away with the fluffy pony!"

Scootaloo's wings buzzed eagerly as she clambered her way up onto a small stool set in front of the counter. Grabbing a ball with her muzzle, she set it down in the cup of the catapult and pulled it down. The springs in the machine whined dangerously just before she let go with a happy giggle. The ball rocketed straight up and hit the ceiling, landing in front of the tower uselessly.

"Aw, shoot!" Scootaloo stamped her hoof. Her face softened and she looked down at Applebloom. "Hey, you get up here and give it a try. You're good with machines and stuff."

"All right!" Applebloom grinned and followed Scootaloo onto the counter. She took careful aim with the second ball as the bored-looking owner looked on. She released the ball with a happy yeehah! The ball arched perfectly and struck the tower head-on.

The tower barely moved.

"Aw come on!" Applebloom's cheeks and ears turned almost as pink as her mane bow. "That's not fair!"

Loki's eyes narrowed. He shifted his head slightly to the right, paying special attention to the blue-colored wall behind the milk bottle tower.

"Sorry, little lady," the attendant said. His voice remained level and gruff. He leaned over and looked down at Sweetie and Dinky. "One more ball. Who else wants to give it a try?"

"Sweetie," Loki said, smiling down at the filly. "Why don't you have the last ball? You do still want that fluffy pony, don't you?"

"Yes!" Sweetie Belle jumped up and down eagerly. Her eyes darted up the prize that lay just outside her reach.

"All right, come on up and give it a shot. But remember." The attendant motioned to a sign placed on the inside of the booth. NO MAGIC, it read in bold red letters.

"I can't even lift things yet," Sweetie said with a huff as she clambered onto the counter. She placed the last ball on the catapult and lined it up.

"Come on, Sweetie Belle!" Dinky hopped up and down as sparks shot from her horn. "You can do it!"

"You have our support, Sweetie," Loki said. He kept his eyes trained on the catapult.

Sweetie Belle stuck her tongue out from her muzzle. She took her final aim and released the ball. As she did, Loki's eyes narrowed. His horn, however, remained silent.

In the middle of its lazy arc, the ball suddenly took off and careened forward as if blasted out of a cannon. The milk bottle tower shattered apart as it slammed through it. The wooden backing painted to match the booth's walls exploded in a shower of splinters. The ball finally lodged in the rear wall, making the entire booth creak in protest.

The stallion and all four fillies stood with their jaws hanging open. Sweetie Belle finally broke the silencing, squeaking her victory and hopping up and down. "I did it! I did it! I got the fluffy pony! Woohoo!"

"You cheated!" The stallion's slapped a hoof down on the counter. "My sign specifically says 'no magic'."

"I didn't use any magic!" Sweetie looked aghast at the accusation.

"Well, you cheated somehow." The attendant looked at the gathered group with suspicion in his eyes. "That machine isn't strong enough to break through the—" He stopped suddenly.

"Break through the what?" Loki asked. A small smirk quirked one side of his mouth.

The attendant glowered at the group. He stomped over to the prize rack and pulled down the doll. "Take it and get lost."

Loki smiled. He watched as the four fillies gaped and laughed around their prize. Sometimes, he thought, you have to savor the small victories.

"Sweetie Belle!" Rarity grinned as her little sister came into view. The five other Elements of Harmony followed her gaze. They saw Sweetie and her three friends emerge from the crowd. Loki brought up the rear, unmistakable in his Asgardian armor.

Loki opened his mouth to say something only to leave it open in shock. Rarity's ensemble for the night was a gold-and-green mixture that took open inspiration from Loki's armor. Where Loki's was relatively subdued and conservative, Rarity had taken the chance to expand upon Asgardian design philosophy. She had adorned her intricately-sewn golden top with matching jewels. Rather than a cumbersome helmet, she wore a jewel-encrusted tiara with a smaller pair of horns. The entire affect was similar to a child trying and adorably failing to copy its parent's wardrobe.

The rest of the Elements stood behind her, dressed in similar yet more tasteful attire. Each of them wore an ensemble that matched their personality in some fashion, from Applejack's simple and rustic sensibilities to Fluttershy's connection with nature. Standing with the six were three other ponies, as well: Ditzy the mail-mare, wearing a simple blue gown; Shining Armor, dressed up in his royal armor; and standing next to Shining was a pink-furred pony Loki had not seen before. His eyebrows raised when he saw she was an alicorn.

Sweetie Belle rushed to her sister, friends and prize in tow. "Rarity," she exclaimed. "Look, look, look! I won!" The three other fillies lifted up the fluffy pink prize. They grinned and giggled in happiness for their friend.

Rarity regarded the cheaply-made doll with a small, nervous smile. "Yes, well. Isn't that something? Ahem." Her blue eyes darted to Loki and she grinned. "Loki. A pleasure to see you again. Notice anything different about me?"

Loki looked Rarity up and down. "Hmm. Did you get a new mane style?" Rainbow Dash giggled as Rarity pouted.

"My dress, Loki," she said, striking a pose. "Trés chic, non?"

Loki drank down the visual image of Rarity's gaudy, twinkling bastardization of his armor's design aesthetic. "Words fail me," he finally managed. Rarity trilled and danced in place. Loki began to understand just where Sweetie Belle got her ability to torture others with her voice.

He turned to Shining Armor and offered an incline of his head in greeting. "Hello again, Shining Armor," he said. He looked at the pink alicorn. "I do not believe we have been introduced. I am Loki, formerly of Asgard."

"A pleasure to meet you, Loki." She bowed, her multicolored mane bobbing around her face. "I'm Mi Amoré Cadenza. My friends call me Cadence."

"She was my foalsitter," Twilight piped up helpfully. "She's also my sister-in-law now." The two of them laughed at the notion while Shining looked on with a proud smile. Then, apropos of nothing, Twilight and Cadence began to dance and sing.

"Sunshine sunshine

Ladybugs, awake!

Clap your hooves and

Do a little shake!"

The group laughed and smiled at the display. Loki struggled to keep his face neutral even as he felt his stomach churning. Perhaps I should let myself get found out, he thought.

"Muffin!" Ditzy grinned. She scooped up the little filly in a tight hug, snuggling her close.

"Mom," Dinky whined. "Stop, you're embarrassing me!"

"It's my job," Ditzy replied. She grinned and snuggled her daughter even tighter.

Loki watched the scene, his stomach settling but only just. "So," he said, approaching Ditzy and Dinky. "Has your daughter inherited your skill at sneaking?"

Ditzy looked up at Loki, a confused look written across her face. "Beg your pardon?" Her walled eye rolled around lazily. "Have we met?"

Loki found his bile beginning to kick up again. "You delivered the letter inviting me here." He caught movement out of the corner of his eye as Rainbow Dash trotted over to join the conversation.

Ditzy grinned and waved away the question. "Nope! Can't be me. I'm a mover, not a mail-mare."

Loki's jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. He could feel the familiar throbbing of a headache working its way through his skull.

"Pst." Rainbow Dash leaned in and whispered into his ear. "Trust me: it's better if you just stop using logic around her. Same with Pinkie Pie."

Loki let out his breath in a long slow sigh. He tilted his head forward and pressed a hoof to his forehead. This place is going to be the death of me, he decided.

Morbid thoughts would have to wait as trumpets blared and the crowd soared in adulation. All eyes turned towards the castle as a pair of figures emerged from the tall, monolithic towers. They floated serenely through the late evening sky, a bright red splotch of color traveling between them.

As the figures drew closer, they resolved into the twin rulers of Equestria. Celestia's golden gown brought memories of Asgardian statuary to Loki's mind as it glittered in the light of the city. Her tall crown twinkled with encrusted jewels and sapphires. Luna's attire was far more subdued. Soft blue colors melted into darker hues, reminiscent of the evening sky. Her crown was as dark as the deepest night, its surface having more in common with an oil slick than some form of metal. The red shape became a thin, graceful bird colored in many different variations of red and orange.

The sister Princesses of Equestria came to rest on a raised platform Loki had not yet noticed. Celestia smiled up at the bird, calling it down with a nod of her head.

Loki walked up to stand next to Twilight. "I have not seen a bird of that kind before," he said, keeping his voice low.

"I'm not surprised," Twilight responded, straightening up with barely-contained pride. "It's not every pony in the world who owns her very own phoenix."

"A phoenix?" Loki looked up at the stage. Celestia held one of her hooves up, the tall bird settling onto her forelimb. It preened itself openly, chest held out in a prideful display.

"Philomena," Fluttershy said from Loki's left. She smiled, her eyes closed as she remembered their last meeting. "She's a mischievous girl."

"Citizens of Equestria!" Celestia's voice boomed across the gathering. All conversation stopped, rendering the entire courtyard eerily silent. "Today we celebrate the founding of our great city. It is today as it was always meant to be: a shining light for all Equestria. It's art and culture—"

Celestia's speech faded into the background. Loki studied Luna from a distance as his headache finally began to recede. He had never seen her in anything close to the dress she was wearing. The ultimate effect of the dark blues and reflective surfaces was enough to impress one as old and jaded as he.

Luna turned her head in his direction. The bored look she wore turned into a brilliant grin that lit up her entire face. Loki's stomach clenched as he felt her enigmatic aquamarine eyes singling him out in the crowd.

Without even realizing it, Loki smiled and returned Luna's wave. His smile faltered as he caught himself. He looked down at his hoof. His stomach clenched again.

"—me proud to call this city my home." Celestia grinned out to her gathered subject. Love radiated from her immaculate face as heat did from her star. "Now, my little ponies, let us throw our voices to the sky in exultation. Let us celebrate our Canterlot, rising from the strife of history."

Philomena spread her wings to their full extent. She crouched low and took off like a rocket. In moments she soared above the crowd to dizzying heights.

"Like a phoenix from the ashes!" Celestia called to the sky. Philomena spread her wings once again as dazzling, pyrotechnic flares burst from her body. Hidden fireworks joined in the display as they careened up to explode in a cacophony of sound and color. The dense smell of gunpowder settled on the gathered crowd. The entire sky was painted in every color of the rainbow as the fireworks' voices added to the sound of thousands of ponies crying out in happiness.

Loki neither saw nor heard any of it.

He could only stare at his hoof.

"Loki." Luna smiled as the crowd parted around her.

Loki looked over his shoulder. He hastily swallowed down his mouthful of confection (Pinkie Pie had called it a 'funnel cake') and smiled in return. The six Elements of Harmony, as well as their friends and loved ones, sat at an outdoor dining table. Twilight's parents had joined them, while Rainbow Dash had left the group to go chasing after some pony she'd recognized as being a Wonderbolt.

"Luna," Loki said. He slid off his pillow seat and stood up. As Luna approached, he gave her a humble bow. "That was a most impressive show this evening."

The gathered ponies added their assent and Luna could only laugh politely. "Thank you, thank you. I am afraid it was all my sister's doing. She loves this holiday so." She turned her attention back to Loki. Her smile grew deeper. "Loki, might I trouble you for a moment alone?"

"Of course," Loki said. Luna lead them away from the table and into the thinning crowd. Looking over his shoulder, Loki saw the table of ponies staring after them and whispering to each other. Pinkie Pie giggled.

The two arrived in a small alcove between a pair of booths. The night was rather cool and pleasant away from the noise and press of bodies.

"Loki." Luna's voice quavered slightly. A normal pony might not have caught it. To Loki it couldn't have been more obvious. He sized Luna up, noting the awkwardness in her stance. "I wanted to ask you something. If you are busy or do not wish to, please do not hesitate to let me know. I will understand."

"Please ask," Loki responded. His curiosity was tempered by his natural suspicion.

Luna met Loki's eyes. For the first time he noticed her ears had turned a light shade of pink. "I am putting on a meteor shower in three day's time," she said. "I have a private garden on a balcony. It is perfectly situated to see the shower, and I was wondering if you would care to join me whilst I perform."

Loki blinked. Of all the scenarios he had imagined, this was probably one of the least likely. Rarely wrong-footed, he put on a charming grin. "Luna, I would be delighted to join you."

Luna straightened up as a relieved smile washed over her face. "Oh, wonderful. I was so hoping you would agree."

Loki chuckled. "Why would I not? I do enjoy spending time with you."

Luna laughed in return. "As I, you."

"Should I bring anything?"

Luna looked pensive for a moment. "Something to drink, perhaps. Your taste in wine is always impeccable."

"You flatter me." Loki bowed. "Shall I expect you for our game tonight?"

Luna shook her head. "It takes quite some effort to prepare, and I also must assist Celestia with royal business." She looked up at the night sky. "Speaking of whom, I must be off."

"Well," Loki said. "Until then, I look forward to your performance with anticipation."

Luna grinned. The gesture was at once adorable and alluring. "I do so hope you like it, Loki."

They parted ways, each wearing a smile on their face.

"What'd she say? What'd she say?" Pinkie Pie was practically effervescent. She bounced up and down on her seat pillow and nearly knocked over the ten empty bottles of Pop-Fizz in front of her.

Loki resumed his seat across from her and shook his head. "I am not sure I am at liberty to discuss our conversation."

"Aww." Pinkie's mane drooped fractionally.

"Oh, that's all right, Pinkie Pie." Rarity smiled cattily. "That just means we can make up our own ideas about what was said."

"Certain to be far more salacious than the truth, I would wager." Loki shook his head with a half-smile. He picked up his fork and knife to slice himself another portion of funnel cake. The exterior crunched merrily and the softness inside was pleasant on the tongue. The food is agreeable at least, he decided as he swallowed it down.

"Mom?" Dinky swiveled around on her pillow. Her forelimbs were held down between her legs and she looked as if she couldn't sit still. "Can I go to the bathroom?"

"I don't know," Ditzy said from her seat next to her daughter. "Can you?"

Dinky pouted. "May I go to the bathroom?"

"Ah ah ah, Dinky." Her mother shook a hoof at her, managing somehow to look stern even with her walled eye. "What's the magic word?"

"Please?" Dinky's intonation was a mixture of desperation and frustration.

"That's better. Go on, get outta here." Ditzy smiled after her daughter as the little filly took off like a rocket towards a nearby port-a-potty.

Loki's silverware clattered noisily onto his plate. The table went silent as all eyes turned to him. He stared off into the middle distance as his jaw worked up and down noiselessly.

"Loki?" Twilight leaned across the table to look at her friend. "Loki, what's wrong?"

"He looks like he's chokin' or somethin'." Applejack stood up and trotted over to Loki. She slapped a hoof against his back. "C'mon now, sick it up."

On the third slap, Loki burst out laughing. The gathered ponies jumped at the sudden explosion of sound. Loki shook his head and pressed his forehead into one of his hooves. He grinned from ear-to-ear as the laughter kept coming.

"It can't possibly be that trite," he finally breathed.

Twilight looked at Applejack questioningly. Applejack shrugged, then crossed her eyes and twirled her hoof near her head.

Loki stared down at the journal. It sat on his desk as it had done almost every hour of every day since he'd found the damned thing.

"So, come back for more, have you?" Starswirl taunted as the book was opened. He reclined in his hammock as he always did. Tonight he was entertaining himself with a yo-yo. Throwing it out and drawing it back in, he grinned up at Loki. "I gotta give you credit: you are tenacious. A lot of kids might have given up after so much failure."

"May I please see the contents of this journal?" Loki spoke slowly and clearly. He enunciated every word as precisely as he could. He didn't even bother to hide the relish in his voice.

The change in Starswirl's demeanor was almost immediate. His yo-yo tumbled to the ground forgotten. His old face went from mocking to serious in the blink of an eye. He grunted and pulled himself out of the hammock, walking toward Loki. When his face took up the entirety of the page, he raised an eyebrow.

"So," he said. "You think that's the magic word, do you?"

"I would not think you would hide such secrets behind so common a word," Loki answered. "I am, however, forced to admit to its...counter-intuitive nature."

Loki and Starswirl stared at one another. Starswirl stroked his beard slowly as the seconds dragged on. Loki became painfully aware of the sound of his candles in the background. His own heartbeat was like a drum in his ears. He had to press his forehooves against the floor to keep from counting.

Starswirl chuckled. "Why not?" He clapped his hooves together and the world exploded.

The pages burned bright with the light of a sun. Loki's apartment was rendered bleached and shadowless for a few painful moments. Despite the brightness, Loki could still see. He saw the pages flipping back and forth as writing began to appear on them: algorithms, lists, spells, histories, lovingly rendered drawings and anatomical renderings. The sound of a thousand quills scratching a thousand lines on hundreds of sheaves of parchment filled his ears. The smell of ink, earthen and heavy, filled his nose.

Loki's grin was demonic in the harsh light of the journal.

Best Laid Plans, Part 1

Loki stared at himself in the mirror. His midnight-black mane cascaded down his head in messy ringlets. He slid both of his forehooves back, slicking the locks into a more ordered mane.

"Hot date tonight?" Starswirl called from his place on Loki's writing desk. The illustrated magician had what appeared to be a handheld game device between his forehooves as he reclined in his favorite hammock. The hammock swung between two large palm trees that swayed in an artificial breeze.

"Hotter for you if you do not be quiet." Loki shook his mane out again, his frizzy mane falling around his face. "I have gleaned what I need from your pages; incinerating you now would bring no small amount of satisfaction." He slicked his mane back and turned the mirror around lest he continue the cycle for fifteen more minutes.

"You've been promising the same thing since you read the formula." Starswirl stuck his tongue out the corner of his muzzle, the video game bleeping and blooping in his hooves. "I'd advise you to read the whole thing. The old coot I'm based on did a lot more than learn about death." Loki snorted. His body glowed as his armor phased in, polished and gleaming in the twilight shining through his windows. He trotted over to the ancient diary, staring down at the moving illustration.

"Is it that princess I've seen around?" Starswirl took a moment to turn his eyes to Loki. He ran a hoof through his beard, a salacious smile on his face. "Not even here for two months and you're already in good with the royalty. If I were a paranoid stallion, I'd be worried that you were up to something malicious."

Loki's eyes were measured and level. "Whatever would give you that impression?"

Starswirl burst out laughing, leaning back in his hammock. "Oh, get over, Loki. Like I care. I'm just a living illustration. This is the most fun I've had in centuries." He waved a hoof expansively. "Bring the whole castle down for all I care; whatever you do is bound to be infinitely more interesting than being stuck in that chamber for another thousand years."

Loki closed his eyes as a slow sigh escaped him. "My ride shall be here soon, so I think it's time we ended this conversation." His horn glowed as he grabbed the edge of the book. "Unless you have a way to escape, you shall still be here at my disposal when and if I am ready to continue reading you."

Starswirl gave Loki a dismissive wave. "Compliment her mane, try not to talk too much about yourself, and make sure to be back by bedtime."

Loki slammed the book shut. Despite himself, he couldn't hold back the chuckle in his throat. Crazy old stallion, he thought. Casting his gaze across the room, he gazed at the castle through his tall windows. It stood silently as the sun dipped low into the horizon. Banners fluttered lazily in the late spring wind. Somewhere inside, Princess Luna would undoubtedly be preparing for their viewing of the meteor shower.

Loki's half-smile turned into a grin before he shifted his attention back to his writing desk. His horn flickered, moving the diary aside to replace it with several other reference books. He opened each aging tome with great care, propping them up on their thick covers.

Loki's immeasurable mind took up his previous spots within each book with ease. His magenta eyes drifted across the pages, flitting from tome to tome. Information swirled and coalesced inside him, sorted into useable chunks while comparing the knowledge against his own vast stores.

--he Draconequus' tail has been rumored to be an aphr--

--armony, legend has it, were grown from the branches of a powerful tr--

--ite their similarities. The royalty of Canterlot may be alicorns, but not all alicorns possess the--

His horn glowed; an ink pot, quill, and piece of parchment were fetched from a drawer. The parchment was already well-worn and nearly half-full, despite his considerable length. Without looking, Loki dipped the pen into the pot and began taking notes. His eyes blazed a trail over each book as his room filled with the earthy smell of ink. The scratching of his pen and the crinkled turning of yellowed pages accentuated that comforting scent.

Three sharp knocks echoed through the bedroom, causing the fur on Loki's upper back to stand up. The memory of his engagement with Luna sprang immediately to mind. He shook his quill against the ink pot, bottling the squat glass jar and storing it away. The knocks came again with greater urgency.

"Just a moment," he called. He stacked his books neatly and rolled his parchment tight. Stowing his possessions away, he rushed to his bedside window. At the release of their locks he windows burst inward, a great gust of air preceding a large, dark-furred pegasus knight clad in midnight blue armor. The knight descended into the room on bat-like wings, his bright yellow eyes severe as they studied Loki.

"Your chariot awaits, Loki." The knight's tone was gruff and clipped. Looking past the stiff-necked soldier, Loki spied an ornate chariot held aloft by the pegasus' two comrades. Their wings filled his room with a harsh drumbeat as they fought against gravity.

Loki took a second to regard himself in the small mirror he kept next to his bed. He ignored the burning glare the pegasus shot at the back of his head as he made sure his armor was shined and his mane was properly slicked. "Very well," he said at length. Turning with a flourish, he walked past the taller stallion. "We are waiting on you, now."

The stallion snorted in what he might have thought a secretive manner. Loki fought down a smirk.

The cool evening air cut across Loki's features, refreshing him after so long cooped up in his room. As the chariot rounded the far side of the castle, the expanse of Equestria opened up before his eyes. Its rolling green hills and the dark Everfree Forest were covered in a deep blanket; it was as if the land itself were setting down for the night. The sun's greatness was long past, the sky's edge barely streaked a dark red that bled up into a deep, bruised violet. Already the stars twinkled in the silent night; their luminous vigil was matched by Ponyville itself, a small pool of guttering candlelight in the darkness.

The chariot turned a hard right. Loki grunted, trying to keep himself from tipping over the side. His charioteer smirked.

Cut into the western face of the castle, Luna's garden was sunk into an oval balcony. Loki used the time of their long approach to pick out its details; he saw a central fountain with a predictably equine statue pouring water, surrounded radially by vertical trellises of hanging fruit. Smaller statues dotted the lush green grass.

The chariot dipped over a low, columned wall to come to a rest next to the fountain. The charioteer clucked his tongue and his fellow guards stopped abruptly. Loki was nearly thrown into his driver's back; he righted himself with an indignant huff.

Loki hopped out of the chariot without waiting to be told. The grass was soft and wet underneath his hooves and the smell of loamy, fertile earth filled his nostrils. His fur shimmered when the chariot took flight once again, though he barely glanced in their direction. Now that he was right in the thick of the garden, Loki was given the chance to take in its artistic touches. For starters, every statue was some depiction of Luna.

Loki took in each statue in turn. His eyes rested on Luna as a filly, Celestia by her side. Celestia looked as if she was teaching Luna to fly. He shifted his gaze to the statue closest to him and beheld a scene of Luna tossing her head into the air as a crescent-shaped moon rested on the tip of her horn. The statues were exquisitely cut from marble, their smooth finishes gleaming pleasingly in the yellow candlelight.

Rearing up on her rear hooves in the center of the garden's fountain, Nightmare Moon snarled her rage heavenwards. Her lean body was cut from a single slab of darkest obsidian. The material was the purest ebony Loki had ever seen, standing out from even the backdrop of the coal-black night. It seemed as if light itself couldn't escape Nightmare Moon. The entire effect was as if the statue hummed with an unknown power; if Loki didn't know better, he'd have wagered that the Nightmare itself had been crushed into this single form.

"I keep it to remind myself." Luna's voice was as soft as rain. Loki looked over his shoulder to see her standing next to a fruit trellis. Her usual finery – her silver hoof covers, her necklace, even her crown – was absent. Her hair undulated in its unseen breeze as she approached the central statue. She tilted her head back, gazing upon the horror she used to be.

"I cannot believe you would have commissioned such a thing be built." Loki followed her gaze. His armor began to feel far more restrictive than normal when set against her sudden casual appearance.

"I did not." Luna didn't break her gaze from the inky black statue. "This was built by my sister. She had it built fifty years to the day after I was banished to the moon." She spread a forehoof around expansively. "This entire garden was once a memorial to the pony I was before the Nightmare took me."

Silence coated the night between them. Loki coughed softly. "What does keeping the statue remind you of, Luna?"

"To never again allow myself the sin of jealousy," she stated with a somber tone to her voice.

Loki spoke up before the awkward silence could again descend between them. "I think I am a tad overdressed." He offered a wry grin, tapping his breastplate with a forehoof. "I did not wish to assume this was to be such a personal affair."

Luna's smile was an equal mixture of amusement and gratefulness. "Dress or don't as you please, Loki. You are my guest and I shall not impose upon you."

Loki smiled a fraction wider. His armor glowed a coruscating golden hue, fading from existence to leave him as nude as his date. He flicked his tail about and shook out his mane "To tell you the truth, it can become cumbersome at times."

Luna laughed softly and brought a hoof to her mouth. "When I first saw you, I wondered if you ever got those horns stuck on anything."

"Not yet," Loki responded. Luna walked away and he fell in step beside her. "The closest to that I have ever come is when my brother got me entangled in the antlers of a raging bilgesnipe."

"Bilgesnipe?" Luna raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"Yes." Loki raised a hoof, indicating a creature several times his height. "Large, scaly. Massive antlers, very temperamental." He chuckled. "With all the exotic fauna in Equestria, I admit I assumed you'd encountered them."

The two of them came upon a blanket spread between two fruit trellises. A small basket lay in the center with its contents hidden by a red napkin. Luna walked onto the blanket and sit herself down as Loki followed suit. "No," she answered as her horn glowed and she pulled the napkin back. "I can't say that I have, Loki. They sound exciting." She grinned as she pulled plates of cheese and bread from the basket.

"Not when you're riding one as it's trying to shake you off and devour you." Loki pressed a hoof to the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. "I cannot believe that oaf talked me into that in the first place." He floated a nib of bread with a slice of cheese close and bit into it. The pungent aroma of the cheese mixed with the headiness of the dark black bread to make him sigh. One thing you could say for Equestria: the food was fit for a god.

Luna pulled a bottle of wine from the basket and poured them both a measure. "Oh, pranks are part and parcel of being siblings. You would be shocked to hear what I've done to my sister in the past."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Go on..."

Luna sipped at her wine, sliding down onto her side with a sigh. "Oh, there have been so many." For a few moments, she was lost in reminiscence. Loki was about to ask her to continue as Luna's face scrunched up. She shook with barely-contained giggles.

"Come now." Loki leaned in, his eyes squinted in interest. "Anticipation is not good for the soul."

Luna sat up as she composed herself. "Well, when I was just a teenager Celestia was quite the stern taskmaster." She straightened herself up and put on an exaggerated frown. " 'Now Luna, you must take your studies seriously! You will be responsible for the entire night someday!' " Her voice was high and shrill; Loki chuckled heartily.

"I couldn't stand it. Every day for weeks on end; studying, lectures, astronomy. Oh, astronomy." She flicked her eyes up to the sky. "I almost started to hate the stars. Anyway, I decided to take her down a few pegs, so," Luna sipped her wine and had to stifle another giggle. "I poured pink food coloring into her bubble bath."

Loki stared at Luna for what felt like ages. The seconds ticked by and the other horseshoe finally dropped. He laughed, sly and cutting. Luna joined him, her ladylike trill perfectly accenting his schemer's chortle. Their laughter carried on for nearly a minute before they regained their composure.

"My goodness," Loki sighed. He had to wipe a few tears from his eyes. "I must bow my head in deference to you, Luna. She must have been absolutely furious."

"Oh, I was sure she was going to send me screaming into the sun." Luna said, a fresh round of giggles bubbling up her throat. She settled down and sighed happily. Sipping her wine, she stared off into the night sky. "It took forever but she finally turned me into a proper Princess. It probably worked too well; it was a millennia and a half later that I was reminded what fun was." Her eyes became glazed and her brow furrowed. "Fifteen hundred years..."

Loki's mirth evaporated as he saw the look on Luna's face. Setting down his wine glass, he canted his head. "It goes by quickly, doesn't it?"

Luna awoke from her reverie. She turned to look at Loki, her face an inscrutable mask. "What does?"

"Time." Loki spoke matter-of-factly, settling his haunches down. He smiled in an attempt to be warm and comforting. "It's like a river. At first it hardly seems to move at all." He levitated his glass upward to stare contemplatively at the blood red contents. "Even as it moves faster, whatever it takes is so small you hardly notice." He downed his wine with one quick swallow. "You stop paying attention, and the river becomes a canyon."

Luna pursed her lips and stared at Loki through narrowed eyes. "That is quite accurate. I would not have expected a unicorn – even a king – to understand a long view of time."

Loki downed the rest of his glass. "What can I say? I am a philosopher and a scholar, as well as a king and mischief maker."

Luna's doubtful demeanor fell away with a slow smile. "Mischief maker?" She finished the last of her bread and cheese, swallowing before she continued. "I presume you mean you pranked your brother in the same way I did my sister?"

"Him, among many others." Loki smiled proudly.

Now it was Luna's turn to raise an interested eyebrow. "Go on..."

"Tut tut." Loki shook a hoof at Luna before motioning to the sky. "We are forgetting why we came: you said there was to be a meteor shower tonight."

Luna followed Loki's gesture and tilted her head to look at the sky. "Ah yes," she said, mild trepidation in her voice. "We are about due for that, aren't we?"

Loki inclined his head. "Is there something wrong, Luna?"

"Wrong? No, that is not what I would say." Luna got her hooves under her and stood up; Loki moved to followed suit but Luna waved him to remain seated. "It is simply that, just like when I raise the moon for the night, a meteor shower requires a specific spell."

"Do you need time to prepare?" Loki crossed one forehoof over another.

"No, I can get started straight away." Luna turned her back to Loki as she stared up at the night sky. Her wings shivered and nestled tighter against her flanks.

"Then please explain," Loki said, "why I am getting this feeling that you are nervous."

Luna didn't answer for several seconds; she lowered her head as time pulled taut like a length of rope. Loki raised a hoof as he prepared to speak only to find his voice caught in his throat. A sound unlike anything he had heard before graced his ears; it was a low rumbling, sweet and rich as freshly made honey.

Tiny flashes drew Loki's gaze heavenward. The sound continued to rise in both intensity and pitch as streaks of white-hot light tracked across the inky black sky. The other shoe dropped and Loki's mouth fell open: Luna was singing. Her voice, normally warm and lilting, had fallen several octaves as she built up her tune.

Her song rose and rose as the first few falling stars were joined by ever greater numbers of meteors. Their burning bodies spread across the sky like waves of water in a churning sea. Luna threw her head up as she belted out a single long, high note; the night exploded in light as more trails criss-crossed the sky in complex fractal patterns.

Loki had long thought himself jaded. He had experienced a lifetime's worth of war, betrayal, and humiliation in the last few years alone. As he sat there behind Princess Luna, staring at the effervescent sky alight with magical fire, he could feel his heart beating in his chest. It was as if someone was beating a drum inside his body. Excitement, anticipation; these were feelings Loki had thought lost to him on anything less than the fulfillment of his schemes.

Comets collided in mid-air. Their enriched guts ignited explosively, scattering in flowers of heat that cast harsh light and deep shadows all across Equestria. Luna's dusky face was rendered pale as her song reached its crescendo. She tossed her head back, flinging herself up onto her rear legs. Her eyes screwed shut tightly. Her final note was belted out on a sore throat that could do nothing to inhibit her voice's power. Loki's eyes still stung with fading afterimages as her song died. The sky darkened with only the twinkling of celestial bodies to break up its emptiness.

Cheers rose across Equestria; the collective voice of the kingdom lifted up in praise to Luna's show. She heard none of it. The applause of one individual tore her gaze from her night. Loki finally found his voice as he let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

"Marvelous!" Loki clapped his forehooves. "Brava, Luna. Brava. I have seen many things in my lifetime." He stood and lowered his head in a bow. "Never have I been witness to such an event with a single person as its cause."

Luna laughed softly and bid Loki to rise. "Now, now. Flattery is unbecoming, Loki." Her smile spread as warmth suffused her chest. "I do appreciate the compliment." She reached up and straightened out her mane. Her ears had turned a light shade of pink. "I do not usually sing for anyone other than my sister."

"Is that why you were nervous?" Loki inclined his head aside.

Luna's smile grew into a grin. "Among other reasons."

Loki matched her grin. The cheers had died away moments ago, leaving them alone amongst the gentle babbling of the fountain and the cool wind whipping against the castle.

"Well?" Luna raised her eyebrows.

"Well, what?"

"We were discussing pranks." She raised an accusatory hoof in his direction as she moved past him back to their picnic area. "You owe me a story, Sir Loki."

"Oh but there are so many to choose from," Loki sighed melodramatically. "My brother was a favorite target when we were younger."

"I'm sure each one is quite entertaining." Luna took her place across from Loki. She popped the top off their wine and poured herself another drink.

Much like a comedian told to make a joke, Loki found his repertoire of stories drying up as he was put on the spot. He rolled around the wine in his glass and ruminated for a time before downing the rest of it in a quick gulp.

"Some time ago," he began, "I was able to make some mischief on some upper class ponies of this very city."

"Oh, my." Luna covered her mouth with a hoof as a sly grin stole over her face. "Admitting to tricking some of Equestria's own citizens? Such bravery."

Loki held up his forehooves defensively. "They had it coming to them, believe me: pair of upper-class twits, these two. If memory serves, they were in attendance at Tattered's retirement party."

"Some of those parasites, huh?" Luna spat out the words, distaste etched across her beautiful features. "Whatever you did to them, you have my preemptive forgiveness. Now do continue."

"Well," Loki said as he lay down on his stomach. "Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash had actually perpetrated a prank upon me. Then they insinuated that I was incapable of doing the same."

"Uh oh."

"Indeed. I am not one to let such a challenge go unanswered. So, once we had wandered into town, I found this insufferable rich couple berating some poor servant without cause." Loki grinned wickedly. "They discovered that such cold attitudes do not go unpunished."

"Ooo. The plot thickens." Luna leaned in closer, resting her chin on the top of her hoof.

"First," Loki hissed, relishing the memory. "I froze her tea to her tongue."

Luna bit her bottom lip as laughter shook her body.

"Then, I froze his overfed rear end to the rather expensive-looking cushion upon which he sat."

Luna's laughter trilled. She covered her mouth as her muzzle scrunched up with mirth.

"Oh, that's not the best part." Loki chuckled, a few seconds away from joining Luna in her laughter. "Finally I decided to show the world the mare's true nature. So, I turned her mane into snakes." The memory was finally too much for him. Loki closed his eyes and laughed as the picture of the twit's frightened face danced across his mind.

His laughter died in seconds when he opened his eyes. Luna was staring at him with wide eyes. He couldn't read her expression; the closest he could discern was either confusion or horror.

"You turned her mane into snakes?" Her voice was barely above a decibel above a whisper.

The chill in the air seemed all the colder for Luna's disposition. Wrong-footed, Loki attempted to recover. "Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"How could you do such a thing, Loki?" Luna rose to her feet like a roused viper. She stared down at him with accusation burning in her eyes.

"Do you truly believe I could be so cruel?" Loki did not hesitate to meet her gaze. "The spell was not meant to last; a week, at most, before she –"

"No, Loki." Luna's voice cut through his as a sword through rusted armor. "I literally mean how." She stabbed a hoof toward his rear. "Your cutie mark designates your magical specialty as ice. Such advanced transfiguration spells are beyond your capabilities, even if you were a king."

Loki felt a clawed hand closing around his heart. He was once again aware of his heartbeat. It was no longer a drum beat; it was loud roar in his ears. He took a deep breath and let it out, slowly and composedly.

"You caught me," he admitted. "I was simply exaggerating the story in order to impress you."

"Nonsense!" Luna barked. She spread her wings, towering over Loki and imposing her presence upon him. "I have played against you for months, Loki. What we do not admit in life, we lay bare when we compete; I can tell you're trying to bluff your way out of this."

Loki's veins ran cold again. He felt as if the world was closing in upon him in spite of the spacious garden surrounding him. Luna snapped her wings against her body and walked around him slowly.

"I sensed there was something odd about you, Loki." Her voice was low and dangerous. She hung her head in the same way a wolf would as it observed its prey. "Ever since I first spied you through my looking glass. And then, the way you talked; how well we connected. You do not speak or act like any pony I've met since my return from the moon!" She put on an affectation of his voice. " 'The river becomes a canyon', you said. Even the most empathic of ponies has never come that close to describing what it is like to be an alicorn."

"Luna, I can explain." Loki stood, trying to face down his accuser. Luna gave him no space. She stamped forward and loomed over him practically nose-to-nose.

"You are trying to bluff again, Loki." Luna did not accuse; she simply stated fact. She backed off and snorted, her nostrils flaring. "You even play chess unlike a unicorn of your age." She jabbed his chest roughly. "You play well, but it is not from raw intelligence; you play as if from a wealth of personal experience."

An invisible noose tightened itself around Loki's neck. The cards were falling, the house was shaking. His heart crashed inside his chest, roaring in his ears like an unchained beast. He licked dry lips with a dry tongue and blinked in a slow, drunken way.

Luna stood back. The accusatory tone of her voice dried up, replaced with a subdued melancholy. "Any or all of those inconsistencies could possibly be explained away. You were a king, privileged above all others and most likely given an exceptional education." She shook her head slowly. "No amount of privilege or education can allow you to perform the feats you claim, Loki."

Tense silence caught them both. Loki's mind struggled to find an angle, a lie he could feed her to keep the inevitable from occurring. He wondered how powerful an alicorn truly was; would he be able to best her and make an escape?

"It's all right, though." Luna looked up. A small smile pulled at the edges of her lips. "I figured out your secret. With all the evidence before me, it was painfully simple."

"If that is true," Loki said through a tight throat, "then you'll know why I kept it a secret."

"Actually, no." Luna shook her head. "That is the only part I cannot figure out. So now I ask: why, Loki, would you hide the fact that you are an alicorn?"

"I –" Loki started. The noose lifted, the cards reset, and the house was laid upon firm soil yet again. He looked right at Luna, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. "What?"

"Oh, come now." Luna huffed indignantly. "Do not insult my intelligence now. That is the only possible explanation. Not even a changeling could have such a breadth of magical ability."

All the possible lies and explanations – even the possibility of battling through her – paled in comparison to the gift Luna has just set in Loki's lap. Quick as a wink, he set his face into a look of gravitas. "Our kind are always in some position of power. I simply did not wish to upset this world."

"Oh, Loki." Luna's entire body relaxed at once, as if someone had cut the strings that held her aloft. She smiled genuinely. "We would have accepted you without reservation."

"I had just been betrayed by my own brother." Loki chuckled ruefully. "You must excuse me if I had trust issues."

The two of them shared a relieved round of laughter as the new lie replaced the old. Loki's head swam with giddiness; rarely had he ever come so close to his lies collapsing.

"So," he continued. "What happens now?"

"Now?" Luna leaned back, her look pensive. "Do you mean 'is Luna going to reveal me?'?" Loki could only shrug apologetically. "No, Loki. I am not going to tell anyone; that is not my place." A sly smile lit up her aristocratic features. "There is one condition: you have to show me."

"Show you?"

"Of course." Luna's lips parted to reveal her pearly, straight teeth. "You can't expect me to let you leave without seeing the real you."

Loki chuckled. "I cannot argue with that."

He stood from their picnic and walked a few paces with theatrical slowness. The wind picked up his mane, tossing it about his face with its cool bluster. He turned on his hind hooves and swung about to face Luna. She had sat up to watch with anxiousness glinting in her eyes.

The wind slowly died to barely a trickle. What had been a constant background noise suddenly became deafening in its absence as the fountain slowed to a stop. Even the song of the crickets ceased as the atmosphere filled with the smell of ozone. The deafening silence covered Loki like a thick, wet blanket. In the vacuum, he could make out the beating of his heart as deafening as thunder.

A familiar drumbeat met his ears. A heartbeat. Heimdall lifted his head. He cast his golden gaze about the tapestry of the universe.

There came the heartbeat again. He fought to keep his own pulse in check as he closed his eyes. May Odin allow the wayward traitor to be careless a third time. Seconds dragged as long as years. The guardian frowned.

The drumbeat sounded a third time. Heimdall's head snapped up and his eyes shot open. He stared at a dark patch of sky with purpose in his stance. Light years became leagues became feet became inches. Before his god's eyes stood a garden, filled with all manner of pleasing fauna and elegant statuary. A dark-furred horse gazed upon something that glowed with golden light. Out of the roiling light stepped another horse clad in ice blue fur. Tall, thin, regal. It spread wings of magnificent length and lifted its head high. A single horn stabbed forth from its forehead.

Heimdall smiled.

It wore Loki's armor.

Stark Tower gleamed in the late afternoon light. High upon the brick building directly north of the new edifice, a man sat upon a window-washer's scaffolding.

He wore a full body worksuit with a generic name – Smith – emblazoned on his breast. His head was shaved and covered with a cap, pulled low over his brows. Frown lines pulled at the edges of a face that always seemed to have smelt something horrid.

He sat on the edge of his scaffolding, his work equipment set out beside him; there was a large, long squeegee next to a bucket of cleaning fluid, as well as a safety rope attachment for his suit. On his lap was his lunch, a nice helping of vegetable-and-meat couscous which steamed with heat. Folded neatly and hidden away in a pack behind him was a Heckler & Koch G36C assault rifle. It was stuffed next to a small, strange pistol loaded with ballistic hypodermic needles.

Something buzzed in his pocket. He sighed and rolled his eyes. Setting his meal aside, he reached down and fished a disposable flip-style cellphone out and stared at the name.

"Merde," he grunted. Flipping it open, he brought it to his ear. "Que voulez-vous, Ross?"

"How many times do I have to tell you," came the growled reply. "Speak English."

"Pardonez-mois, Général Porcine." The man switched to a heavily-accented English. "What do you want?"

"Why haven't you acquired the package?"

"Do you want a job well done or done quickly?"

"I want it done at all. You told me you were the best."

"I am the best," the man replied firmly.

"For what I'm paying, you should've had him a month ago, Batroc." There was the clinking and dripping of alcohol on the other end, followed by a swallow and a sigh.

The man's thoughts turned to the odd weapon in his pack. "I now have the tools I need. I just need to wait for the target to leave the tower; make it look like a disappearance, that he ran away."

"Excuses. I knew I should've hired Wilson. He's crazy but he'd have – "

A peal of thunder tore through the sky. The phone sparked and fizzled. Batroc cursed in French and tossed the smoking phone away. He looked up to behold a sky that had darkened in less time than it had taken to be told off by his boss. The storm was centered over Stark Tower, twisting borealis curling through its black clouds.

Batroc's eyes filled with burning white light. He hissed and snapped them shut as another crack of thunder rolled through the city. His eyes were filled with spots when he opened them.

"Merde." He reached into his pack and pulled out a pair of binoculars. Leaning forward against the scaffold, he peered through the lenses. The image was fuzzy and nondescript. He thought he could see a figure standing on the balcony where he swore nothing had stood before.

He adjusted the lenses to bring the image into focus. Batroc saw someone tall, broad, with a bright red cape and long blonde hair. In his left hand, the figure held a war hammer.

"Peut-être," he said as he lowered the binoculars, "le temps de l'attente est terminé."

Best Laid Plans, Part 2

Four heroes stood in the same room near the apex of Stark Tower. Bruce Banner sat in a chair, his arms held tight around his chest. Tony Stark stood behind his bar, pouring himself a drink. Steve Rogers listened attentively some feet away from Thor of Asgard as the demigod related his findings.

"We have discovered Loki's location." Thor looked at each friend in turn, trying to gauge their reactions. "He is far outside of the Nine Realms, on a world no Asgardian has encountered."

"There's something that's been bothering me," Steve said. He pulled his helmet off, brushing a hand through his blonde hair. "Loki was rotting away in your prison for almost a year before he broke out. From how quickly it happened, it's clear he could have done it at any time." Steve pointed at Thor. "He's your brother, and you know he never does anything without a reason. So why right then? What happened?"

Thor shifted uncomfortably. "I do not know. Loki's mind has become a mystery to all of us."

"The only mystery here," Tony snarked, "is why we're still here and not halfway across the universe already." He downed the last of his drink. "I mean, who knows what kind of trouble he's causing."

Steve reset his helmet. Tony reached into his pocket to fetch the remote control for his suit. Bruce was the only one of the quartet who had nothing interrogative or flippant to say. He hunched forward in his chair, his face pale and drawn.

"There is a problem with that," Thor said. He crossed his arms and leaned back, avoiding eye contact with his fellow warriors.

"What the problem?" Banner's smile was pained. His voice sounded hoarse and phlegmy. "Run out of gas?"

"You've been hanging around Tony too much, Dr. Banner." Steve shook his head as he unhooked the safety strap on his pistol holster. He pulled out his 9mm sidearm and checked the safety before dropping the magazine from the grip to see if it was full.

"There is a problem with the Bifrost." Thor's words stopped everyone in their tracks. Tony stood next to his armor to stare back at the Asgardian. Steve holstered his sidearm.

"I am a warrior," Thor continued. "Not a craftsman. However, the only two who can use the tool needed to rebuild the Bifrost are myself and my father. He has been taken by the Odinsleep, so I was the only one who could build it."

"Yeah," Tony volunteered. He activated his armor and stepped into it as it blossomed open like a flower. "We understand, it's not your fault. So what's the problem?" His faceplate slapped shut and the HUD for his suit turned on.

"The Bifrost does not have the capabilities needed to get us directly to Loki." Thor sighed, shaking his head. "Heimdall is not even sure the old Bifrost would be able to make a leap of this distance. However Loki got there himself, we have not yet been able to figure it out."

"So what," Banner spat through coughs. "So you come all the way here to tell us Loki's gotten away?"

"Glad I didn't polish this thing." Tony chuckled. He walked into the circle of friends clad in his armor, the servos of his suit whirring rhythmically.

Thor smirked. "I think I liked things better when humans had more faith in their gods."

"God. Singular." Steve set his hands on his belt and looked at his two human compatriots. "I do agree with Thor, though. He wouldn't have come down here without a plan."

Tony's faceplate lifted up. "So what is the plan, big man?"

"Before we get too far into this," Banner interjected, "I need to say this: I can't come." Three pairs of eyes turned to look at him as he sat hunched in his chair. Holding his arms close to his body, he looked frigid despite the pall of sweat covering his pale forehead.

"Come on, big guy," Tony challenged in a light, breezy manner. He walked over to his friend and leaned down to put a hand on his shoulder. "We need you in on this. We're already down two members with Romanov and Barton out."

"Tony, I have to agree with Banner on this." Steve pursed his lips in contemplation. "He doesn't look in a good way."

"I also must agree," Thor added. "The Bifrost is a trying mode of transportation for mortals, even in the best of times."

"Steve, Thor, c'mon." Tony stood up. His metal boots clanked heavily as he made his way over to the Asgardian and the soldier. Sparing a glance for Bruce, he lowered his voice and spoke. "We need him on this. For insurance."

"Insurance?" Steve crossed his arms.

"Look, I'm just a man in a can." Tony pressed a hand to his breastplate before reaching out to give Steve's shoulder a good slap. "And you, well, you're the pinnacle of human achievement. But you're still human."

"Am I not standing here?" Thor's face bore the suggestion of a smirk.

"You're his brother," Tony countered. "I'm sorry, but if worse comes to worse, we can't trust you to do what needs to be done. Come on guys, it hasn't been that long. Don't you remember?" Tony tapped a finger against his temple. "Both of you went toe-to-toe with Loki the last time. He walked away from each fight. The only one to take him out of the game was the Hulk." Tony turned and pointed at Bruce. "He's our insurance."

Bruce had bent over, hands on his head, trying to rub away a migraine that was threatening to shut out everything. "You're right, Tony," he whispered. "Except for one thing: I had some control over the other guy last time." Tilting his head back, he looked up at his three friends. His throat clenched as guilt and fear fought a bloody battle deep inside him. "If he gets out again, I'm not sure I'll have any control."

Tony reached up and wiped a hand down his face in barely-disguised frustration. He walked the short distance over to his friend and went down to one knee, grabbing Bruce's shoulder. "Look, I know I'm not asking you to go on a stroll in Central Park here, but we don't know what we're walking into here."

Bruce brushed that hand off. "You don't understand, Tony. I still don't get a suit of armor." He sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow. "You never understood. Every night I go to sleep hoping I don't wake up in a strange place with the realization that I may have killed hundreds of people." Bruce stuck an accusatory finger onto the arc reactor humming in Tony's chest. "When you know that feeling, then you can ask me to take a risk like this."

Steve and Thor exchanged a quick glance. For once, Tony found himself without a quick line or rebuttal. After a few seconds' time, he sighed and stood. "All right, then. Come see us off, at least?" His faceplate slapped down and his voice came out in a flat, modulated tone. "I might have a bottle of champagne you could smash against my head if it will make you feel better."

The tension that had been building between the four men fizzled and evaporated with that one line. In spite of his condition, Bruce laughed. In a brief respite, his laughter didn't descend into a coughing fit. Tony offered him a hand and Bruce accepted, rising from his chair to follow the other three Avengers out onto the balcony.

"Heimdall!" Thor ordered into the sky. "Ready yourself!"

Steve and Tony followed Thor into the intricate scrying circle burned into the metallic balcony. Bruce stood a few feet apart, his arms crossed against the chill wind that whipped through the New York City skyline.

"We must remain perfectly still," Thor explained. He turned around in the circle, facing his two traveling companions. "The Bifrost will lock onto our bodies here on Earth and then send us towards Loki's hiding place. But, again, we must remain still." His face was set as stone, trying his best to communicate the gravitas of the situation. "Any movement could cause disastrous results."

"Disastrous?" Steve took his place in the circle, setting his thumbs in his belt. "Define 'disastrous'."

"You might end up going beyond the world and into its star, or ending up fused with the foliage of the world itself." Thor spread his hands, as if to apologize for the possibility.

"I love this plan. I'm excited to be a part of it." Tony looked between his friends, then back at Bruce. He turned around again and set his suit in place, artificial muscles tightening to keep his body as motionless as a statue. "Let's do it."

"You know, I finally watched that movie," Steve revealed.

"Oh good," Tony responded. "It would just kill me to think these references were flying over your head."

All of the men in the circle shared a laugh in the face of danger. None of them felt a pair of eyes on them from a building due north.

Batroc cursed. He set his binoculars down, reaching a hand up to wipe the sweat from his brow. Resetting the binoculars in front of his squinted eyes he cursed again. There Banner stood, along with three other members of the Avengers. Damn it all, he thought. Why couldn't it have been the rich boy and the two assassins?

Batroc sat back on his haunches, the percentages and chances playing around in his head. He didn't have long to mull over his options before the clouds above coalesced into a dark, coiling mass. Lightning and thunder preceded an opening of the heavens through which a slender column of light descended. It struck Stark's balcony and held there, obscuring the four men from Batroc's side.

More curses followed. The decision taken out of his hand, he jerked equipment from his bag and began a hasty, haphazard assembly process. He strapped the finished pack firmly to his shoulders where it hummed to life on engines powered by the same Arc technology that ran through all of Stark's machines. He slung another pack around his chest, tying it down and giving it a tug to make sure it was secure. In a flourish Batroc produced a tube-shaped launcher. He hefted it onto shoulder and aimed upwards in a five degree arc.

The tube's pressurized air produced a hard, low rush as it violently ejected its cargo. Thick, black cabling hurtled across the gap at hundreds of miles an hour, the tip attached to a wicked spiked spear. As the line began to pull taut, Batroc swiftly attached the hook of his back-mounted jet pack to it.

The speartip sailed over the four Avengers, the sound of its passing lost to the whistling high-altitude winds. Standing just outside the column was Bruce, who kept his arms around himself both for comfort as well as that nervous habit that had developed in months past. His three friends stood in the transportation circle, stock still and awaiting their teleportation to that distant world.

The sound of metal breaking glass barely cut through the bone-chilling wind and the electric ululations of the Bifrost's column. The spear tip sailed through an office several stories above the balcony, slamming into the wall opposite and embedding itself several feet deep.

The hair on Bruce's back stood on end, and from deep within he could hear the other cry screaming. His pulse quickened, and for a second he heard a note in the Hulk's screams that was seldom there: it was trying to warn him of something.

Bruce looked left, then right. Nothing seemed amiss, and yet that fundamental sense of wrongness remained. The pit of his stomach crawled around in on itself, twisting in fleshy knots as the other guy smashed through the walls of his mind; bellowing, hollering, screaming, and making a general nuisance of himself.

Something sharp hit his head. He hissed a breath through his teeth and slapped a hand down over his scalp as the missile clattered a few feet in front of him. It was a piece of glass, about half the size of his fist and trailing blood in its wake. His own hand returned with some of that same red liquid. More glass followed, inciting him to duck and step back into the relative safety of the small overhang behind him.

The screams of the Hulk intensified and a cold sweat oozed its way across his body, like the touch of an unwanted lover. Bruce craned his neck back to look straight up and his eyes came to focus on a thick, black cable running through a broken window several stories up.

Tony's HUD lit up. "Sir," Jarvis warned, "perimeter breach due north."

The shooting started an instant afterwards. Bruce shifted his gaze north, his vision assaulted by something that shouldn't have been. A figure flew through the air with a backpack that spewed blue fire, riding that zipline and putting down a withering hail of gunfire on his three friends. The other guy pressed at the barriers of Bruce's mind, screaming to get out. For a long, tense, shameful moment, he was tempted to let him out.

The figure targeted Thor and Captain America almost exclusively. The Asgardian's thick skin deflected every bullet that his spinning hammer did not. Steve rolled out of the way of the first fusillade, bringing his shield to bear and crouching behind it. Bullets pranged off that Vibranium sanctuary, making his body shiver with every impact.

"Remain still!" Thor called out, even as he worked to throw those bullets off their intended course.

"Bit late for that," Tony quipped. His suit whined to life and he raised an arm at the invader. The repulsor in his palm spun up, targeting sensors capturing Batroc in an instant. A second before he fire, his HUD caught a bogey flying from the assailant. It was tiny, almost the size of a half-dollar, and before Tony could react it impacted on his breastplate. Electricity raced across his bionic muscles, locking them up and shorting out the power feeds running from his Arc reactor to the suit's computer. His HUD died along with his suit, leaving him to stare out at the world from two flat, rectangular slits.

Batroc detached from the zipline, flying through the air and rolling as he hit the balcony. The knock-out pistol with its powerful cargo was attached to his belt and he wasted no time in bringing it to bear. Pulling it from its holster, he spun and fired several of the hypodermic darts right at the tall, blonde alien.

Thor knocked the majority of the darts away with his hammer. Despite his experience and aplomb, one lucky shot struck his chest. He grabbed it and pulled it out in disgust, tossing the dart away before advancing on the small, human attacker. Two steps into his march, his legs gave out from underneath him as his vision swam. He fell forward, supporting his weight on his great hammer. The noises around him faded to a dim, dull roar. His Asgardian heritage worked to filter out the poisons flowing through his veins, but for the time being he was left in that dizzy, strange half-sleep.

Batroc was already turning even before Thor was brought to his knee. He slapped the pistol back onto his belt and readied his assault rifle at Captain America, keeping the super soldier at bay with several controlled bursts. After every pull of the trigger, he edged closer and closer to the frozen armor of Tony Stark. Behind his shield, Steve grimaced. He tried to edge forward to cut the shooter off of his intended path, but as soon as he did he felt bullets whizzing past his vulnerable feet. Steve ducked down behind his shield, angling his sidearm around the edge to let loose what he hoped were some effective shots.

Several inches from Tony, Batroc lowered his weapon and turned. He raised one of his legs into a curled position, ready to strike out and send that tin-man right off the edge of his own building. He could hear the man protesting inside, cold and distant inside his suit.

"Get away from him!" Banner bellowed as he raced across the balcony and leaped for Tony's attacker. Batroc struck out just as he felt the impact of another body slam into him from his blind spot. His foot missed Tony's center of mass, ramming up into his shoulder. The Iron Man suit twisted around on one leg, balancing for a moment on the heel before rocking back and careening off the edge.

"Jarvis! Restart!" Tony yelled. The suit, his metal tomb, dragged him down towards the sidewalk below. "Jarvis!" A second later, his descent was suddenly and painfully arrested. His repulsors still silent, Tony had only moments to contemplate before he realized the truth: the Bifrost had him.

"Wait, wait!" was all he got to say. His image stretched and pinched, fading out before it was consumed by a flash of bright light. There was a sound like a bomb going off in a long tunnel and Tony Stark disappeared from New York City, sent careening across the universe at a speed far beyond light.

Back on the balcony, Banner slammed down atop Batroc, his arms wrapped around the assassin's waist in a perfect football tackle. Bruce straddled the attacker's chest and rammed his fist down into Batroc's grizzled face. "What do you want, you son of a bitch?" Bruce shouted, spittle frothing at the edges of his mouth. His voice had deepened, and the edges of his eyes were tinged green.

Batroc coughed up a few flecks of blood. A tooth felt loose inside his head, and stars exploded in his sight. Despite this, he grinned up at the short, stocky American. "Vous," was all he said before ripping the pistol from his belt and unloading three rounds right into Bruce's abdomen. Banner gasped, blinking in the stupid, slow way of a man struggling against the twelve pints in his system. He looked down at the three tiny darts sticking out of his stomach and slowly, almost gracefully, rolled off Batroc.

Fighting through the punch-drunk stupor the damned American had bludgeoned into him, Batroc rose to see Banner twitching and frothing at the mouth. Keep fighting, he thought to himself. Not even the Hulk can withstand that toxin. He cut his reverie short as he yanked the parachute off his chest and forcefully attached it to Banner's back. The angry man yelled and took a weak swing at him, which Batroc batted away easily. He twisted a timer on the pack and pressed a thick boot to his target's side.

"Rendez-vous sur le sol, Banner." Batroc sneered as he leaned forward, putting his weight down through his leg. Bruce struggled to maintain his balance as he slipped dangerously close to the edge.

Batroc felt the bullet impacts before he heard them. Two in the back, up near his right shoulder. He spun around, his boot slipping off Banner. For a dizzying moment reminiscent of Tony's descent, he felt as if he might fall off. At the last second he lunged his upper body around and brought his own weapon to bear. He pressed the butt against his shoulder, the A on the Captain's forehead right in his sights.

"Get away from him," Steve Rogers leveled his weapon at Batroc's head.

"Je prends l'homme vert colère, capitaine." Batroc put himself between Banner and the Captain. His finger slipped into its comfortable place around the trigger. He could hear his own heartbeat, amplified through the haze of adrenaline. It reminded him of the crashing of surf against rocks.

"Pas tant que je suis ici." Steve squeezed the trigger. As he did so, the world around him seemed to telescope. The foreground rushed at him as the background peeled away. Batroc grew larger and smaller at the same time. In Steve's stomach, it felt as if something was wrapping tight around his guts.

Batroc heard the rapport of something like a bomb. He ducked away reflexively as his vision was blasted with radiant light. The shock wave hit him in the chest and drove him back on his rear foot. For the second time the assassin was almost driven off the balcony without his target. Slamming his feet back to the ground, he looked with blinking, bewildered eyes at the spot Steve Rodgers used to occupy.

"Help me..." Banner's voice turned Batroc's eyes down towards the prone, shaking man. Bruce looked pulled between two different places, as if someone had been adjusting two different images of him and had not quite gotten them to overlap. He blurred and shook, though none of the interference could hide the green tinge creeping into his skin. He jerked his head up swift as a wolf. His eyes were glowing green.

Batroc's instincts kicked in several seconds too late. He grabbed the syringe pistol on his belt and fired off three shots. Banner roared as the needles passed right through him, as if he were nothing more than smoke and mirrors. His roar was swallowed up in another ear-piercing conflagration of light. Batroc cursed and pressed the inner curve of his elbow to his face.

Thor blinked away the last few cobwebs and rose, drunkenly, to both feet. Seeing that he was the last one left, he growled and gripped his hammer tight. "Heimdall!" He called as he stomped towards his prey. "Close the Bifro – " His voice was swallowed up by light and noise as he, too, was sent hurtling towards Loki's hideaway.

The pillar of light surrounding Stark Tower's main balcony dissipated within seconds. The Algerian assassin found himself alone, his target and the three adversaries having vanished into the aether. Batroc stared around dumbly for a few seconds, his pounding heart and fading adrenaline rush leaving him disoriented and irritable. Realization slowly sank in and his lip curled in a snarl. Curses and invective spilled from his mouth as he stomped alone around the balcony.

Something buzzed in his pocket. He pulled out his disposable cell phone and stared at the Calls Received screen. Ross, was all it said.

"J'ai entendu Paris est belle cette époque de l'année." He opened the phone and then pulled it apart, tossing the broken pieces off the side of the balcony.

The great gulf between stars stretched like the maw of a giant, hungry beast. The galaxy seemed to taunt any intelligent species with its vast distances. It dared them to try to make contact, to explore, to do anything beyond their birth systems.

Heimdall stood in the raised dais in the center of the Bifrost. He held tight to his sword, staring out through the coil of energy to watch Thor and his human comrades hurtle through the cosmos. He saw them frozen in position as time within the Bifrost's energy slowed in comparison to the rest of the universe.

He looked up. The Bifrost spun and hummed as the previous model had done. Every nuance of the old Bifrost had been captured, even the intricate decorations. It still felt off. Despite every part fitting together perfectly, this new Bifrost seemed young and rushed. The power that coursed through it felt a mere shadow of its old potential.

This is the furthest distance the Bifrost has ever attempted, Heimdall mused as he returned his gaze to the four Avengers. How long shall they take?

His gaze fell squarely on the twisted, snarling image of Bruce Banner, locked for now in a halfway point between being himself and becoming that raging beast.

A pang of guilt, unfamiliar and alien, stabbed into Heimdall's gut. His one small hope was that whatever native life form that he'd now put in the Hulk's path could defend itself better than Thor's beloved humans.

One week later, on a sunny day in Equestria...

The first thing Tony Stark heard when he awoke was the tinny rushing of wind.

Falling. He was falling. He could see blue sky and clouds rushing by his eye slits in a vomit-inducing blur.

"Jarvis!" He groaned. "Restart."

Nothing.

"Activate!"

Again, there was nothing. He tumbled over and over. With every tumble, he caught sight of something. He could have sworn it was some kind of floating white city.

"Move already!"

His suit buzzed to life seconds before he impacted. The repulsors snapped to life and slowed his descent enough that his spine didn't telescope when he slammed through a large, white roof. He crashed through something that was soft and hard at the same time. He careened through an open factory space and smashed through several barrels before skidding to a stop just before ramming right into a wall.

He felt like the he'd just come out of the other end of a weekend block party. His head spun, and he could feel his vision beginning to tunnel. His suit was covered in what looked like liquid rainbows. Lifting his head, he saw white marshmallow-like material all around.

"Jarvis," he said, his voice breathy and without impact. "Analyze."

Jarvis did not respond. His suit, however, read out a chemical composition consisting mostly of frozen water, oxygen, and other trace gasses.

He gripped the substance, pulling off a tuft and staring at it in a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

"Clouds?"

Darkness swallowed him, taking with it all sensation.

Steve pulled himself into a tight ball as he fell through thick, unyielding brush. He crashed down towards earth, his arms shielding his face from thick branches on the way down. When he finally hit solid ground, he grunted as the wind was knocked out of him. He felt his ribs and back shudder. That was going to sting later.

He rolled onto his back, reaching up and pressing a hand to his ear.

"Stark, this is Rogers. Come in." Static answered him. "Repeat, this is Rogers. Come in." Again he was met with the hash of empty interference.

Steve shoved himself into a sitting position. He had landed in a forest of some kind. Glancing around, he found his sidearm lying next to him. His shield lay concave side up a few feet further, spinning around slowly.

Something slammed down against his head. He gasped in pain and ducked right, looking up. He couldn't see an enemy in the tree above him. Looking down, he caught sight of the offending missile. It was small and red, round and juicy; one of the most American things in the world.

He picked it up and stared at it. Glancing up, he took another look at the woods around him. The thick trees were spaced evenly, far enough to give each other room and not too close to drink each others' water.

It's not a forest, he realized. It's a farm.

Thor could hear screams and cries of fright. Lightning burned across his flesh and crept down into the brickwork of the mall. Opening his eyes, he found himself crouched in the midst of a gigantic city. High brick buildings rose around in every direction. Off in the distance, a massive palace cut through the skyline. Thor was reminded of the protective palaces humans used to build.

Gathering his wits, he stood up. The smells of the city hit him moments after the sights; sweat, food, and that subtle hint of sewer that no large city could ever escape. He blinked the fog of transportation away. His memory kicked in seconds later. In his mind's eye he saw Banner seconds before he disappeared, roaring out his anger to the heavens.

Loki, he told himself. Banner can take care of himself. Loki is the priority.

Thor looked into the crowd. They gasped and shrieked. One of them fainted. Small horses. Hundreds of them. They stood and gawped openly at the Prince of Asgard, dressed in a mixture of high society and merchant garb. Their coloring was garish and horribly mismatched, and yet the look of fear on their face was all too recognizable.

His mind finally clicked into gear. There was something else wrong with the crowd. One out of perhaps every five of them were dressed up like Loki.

Pain. It was a sensation with which Bruce Banner had become intimately acquainted. In the long years since his accident, his life had been one constant quest to manage that pain. But now he'd failed. How the hell had he been found?

Questions bled away from his mind as soon as they were formed. He felt a familiar tugging at the edges of his consciousness. The screaming, the eternal screaming. The Other Guy wasn't going to go away. He was going to scream and thrash and bite and claw his way from the pit of Bruce's psyche.

Bruce yelled, spittle flying from his lips. His jaw hurt; his entire body hurt. Every muscle seemed electrified, pulled taut enough to rip away from his bones. His eyes snapped open, bulging and tinged green. The world warped and twisted in front of him. It was as if someone had taken a smudge tool and just gone wild. He could only see the faint impressions of color at this point. Green. Everywhere. For a moment he thought he had just gone over the edge and the Other Guy was finally wreaking havoc.

The smell of grass tickled his nose. No. He was still in control. He was still himself.

Something spoke off to his left. It sounded like a trumpet being played at the bottom of a well. With an immense force of will, he turned. All he could see was a gash of yellow and pink; something small and frail. Something easily crushable. Crush. Kill. Stomp. Smash!

"Get away!" He tried to yell. He never knew if he said anything remotely human.

Something ripped. His shirt? That parachute? His muscles? Those words were meaningless now.

Everything was meaningless.

Except the anger.

The eternal, screaming, raw anger.

The last of Bruce pulled apart at the seams and disappeared. His last coherent thought was regret for what he'd said to Tony; it didn't matter that he didn't remember who Tony was.

The Hulk tilted its head back and roared its eternal, undying anger at the pristine blue skies of Equestria.

Escape

When Loki moved, the snake bit.

When Loki thought of a method of escape, the snake bit.

When Loki thought of a method to destroy the snake, the snake bit.

The simple seat upon which Loki sat kept him ramrod straight. A leather strap bound him to the seat back. The cage's thick bars were crafted to restrict movement as much as possible, the roof of the cell bare centimeters above his head.

The infernal snake opened its mouth to issue a warning hiss, weaving side to side slowly. A creature born of the Destroyer's magical technology, it was his only companion in that dark pit. Twice as long as Loki was tall, the snake sat curled up by the god's cell. Its burning-red eyes were fixed, unwavering, on the prison's lone inmate.

Loki thought of escape. The snake was instantly upon him. Baring its metallic fangs and sinking them into the meat of Loki's arm, it thrashed its head against the wound. Blood oozed down, where it was sucked between the small tiles of his prison floor.

The snake released Loki and slithered back to its eternal vigil. Loki looked down at his bleeding arm. Almost as soon as his eyes focused on the wound it began to heal. In mere seconds, his arm was like new, save multiple blood stains on his torn, dark green clothing.

Loki turned his eyes back to the snake, his face impassive. The snake's eyes were void of anything save programmed, animal intent. Turning back to stare forward, he closed his eyes. Turning his thoughts inward, he set about a less painful thought process: hating his brother, Thor.

Thor gazed into the abyssal blackness of the Nine Realms. The tall, muscular Asgardian prince stood with his arms crossed, his blue eyes unfocused. His youthful face wore the expression of a man several eons his senior, brows furrowed and the edges of his mouth sagging downward. Even the very luster of his armor seemed stolen away, its reflective surface muted in the low light at the edge of his realm.

Some yards ahead, Heimdall stood at the very termination of the Rainbow Bridge, silent and stalwart as ever. His golden armor gleamed in the late evening sun, the ebon-skinned warrior more statue than man. The guardian of the Asgardian realm, no other took his duty to Odin more seriously than Heimdall.

"Thor Odinson!" At the sound of his name, Thor turned. There, standing not feet behind him, was Odin Allfather. Clad in his kingly armor, his father stood with his arms folded, his face severe. "There is a matter of great importance I need to discuss with you, my son. It seems that there is an Asgardian missing from our realm."

Thor's eyes narrowed slightly, muscle memory guiding his hand to the haft of his hammer. "Father, how could Loki have escaped such a prison?"

Odin walked closer, turning his gaze toward the cosmic veil. "He once told tales in the halls of Asgard of his strength and battle prowess; he would seek high adventure in the Nine Realms with Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. He smiled and made jest, feasted as if the heavens were about to collapse and brought me no end of trouble." Odin gently inclined his head, looking upon his son with his one good eye. "Your mother and I wonder what has become of that man."

Thor followed his father's gaze, reaching down to rest his palm against the haft of Mjolnir. His tension began to ebb as he felt the comforting weight against his palm. "I have wondered this as well, father. I am afraid that maturity and the complexity of life have done away with that man. I am beginning to fear it is permanent.

"My banishment, Loki's betrayal, the events on Earth. Individually these events might not have affected me so deeply. However, coming one right after the other, and each of them precipitated by the actions of my brother. I sometimes feel so angry at him that I wish to go to his prison and have words with him. At other times, I feel as if I have let him down. There must have been something I could have done, something I could have said, to make him change his course." Thor's hand stole to his side, almost without conscious thought, to touch the spot where Loki had stabbed him atop Stark Tower.

Odin raised a hand up to grip Thor's shoulder, smiling warmly. "My son, you mustn’t let the actions of your brother continue to dominate your life. Loki is imprisoned, and being punished for what he has done. Midgard is safe, and your defense of it is further proof of the wise king you shall make.

“You spent a year searching for Loki, shirking your friends and favorite pastimes. Now that he is captured, you stew in guilt and regret. It is right of you to mourn what has become of Loki, but perhaps the time for that has passed. Lady Sif and the Warrior's Three ask of you often, and I think it is time to find their company once again."

Thor sighed, pulling away from his father's embrace. "Father, to adventure with them again, as I once did; to battle fell creatures, eat great feasts, and seek out the pleasurable company of fair maidens from the Nine Realms. It all seems so childish and frivolous after all that has transpired. Was it not your purpose in banishing me to Earth that I should mature and learn the value of responsibility? Now you would have me return to my old ways as if nothing had happened?"

Odin shook his head. "Not at all, my son. However, even a wise king must find time for frivolity now and again. It does not do well for the soul to constantly dwell on the worst in our lives and fret about what we could or should have done."

Thor sucked in a deep breath and turned from his father, gazing once again at the depths of the Nine Realms. As ever, at the termination of the Rainbow Bridge, stood Heimdall, as still and silent as the changeless, inky blackness he observed. For a time, father and son stood in mute vigil, side by side, only the roar of the waters below them to keep them company.

"Do you know," Odin spoke up with a smile grazing his wizened face, "what it is in all the cosmos that never fails to lift my spirits?" Thor turned to look at his father, a brow raised. Odin's smile widened and he leaned in close in a conspiratorial manner.

"Horses." He spoke, that smile turning into a grin that seemed to melt the eons from the ancient king's face. "Beautiful, elegant, graceful creatures they are. Watching them run, play, roll in the grass; riding Sleipnir, the wind in my face, the sound of his hooves on the ground; it never fails to bring a smile to my face, Thor Odinson, and many would call such a fixation 'childish' and 'frivolous'.

"You have shed so much of your childish ways, my son: your greed, your selfishness, your brash nature. You have taken up so many qualities required in a wise king: honesty, kindness, a willingness to fight for those unable to fight for themselves. However, you must never think yourself too mature to do the 'frivolous' things that make you happy.” Satisfied his point had been made, Odin made his way back towards Asgard, leaving his son Thor to contemplate his words.

As the figure of his father faded into the distance, Thor's hand went to his side, grasping the haft of his weapon. Mjolnir, a hammer forged in the heart of a dying star. A weapon of great destruction, or a tool to create great things. Pulling it from his side, he held it aloft with both hands, taking in its angular contours, its runic symbols, and its simple, Asgardian design. His arms flexed only slightly at its weight, the hammer's intense mass no obstacle to Thor's intentions.

“Your father speaks wisdom, Thor.” Heimdall's deep bass rumbled forth, startling Thor to look at the guardian's statuesque form. “You would do well to heed his words.”

Thor looked down at Mjolnir, that weapon of destruction, gripping its haft tightly. “Where, Heimdall,” he spoke, looking up at the sentinel's back. “Where can there be a place in a peaceful kingdom, for a king whose greatest pleasures come on the field of battle?” The seconds drew long and Heimdall gave no further counsel, the only movement from the silent watchman being the gentle fluttering of his cape in the breeze.

Thor shook his head, letting the weight of his hammer pull his arm down. The words of his father echoing in his mind, he decided to descend into his prison and speak with his brother. Sliding the weapon back onto his belt, Thor put the Nine Realms to his back, beginning the long walk back to Asgard.

Loki regarded the snake, coiled mere feet from his cage, its mouth open in a threatening display. His eyes, cold and unreadable, shifted away to stare out into the blackness of his prison. Closing them, he decided to sleep. Perhaps in the tranquility of unconsciousness he could formulate a plan.

The snake, hissing harshly, struck forward to sink its fangs into his arm. Loki let out an annoyed sigh as he felt the pain shoot through him. His father was many things, but a man without forethought was not one of them.

Allowing the snake to finish its job, Loki watched his flesh heal in the aftermath. Reaching a hand up, he glided his fingers over the reknit wound. Fresh and new, as if it were never punctured at all. Shaking his head Loki closed his eyes again. His breathing began to slow, his head beginning to loll forward. Sleep slowly overtook him, infusing his limbs with a heaviness he found strangely comforting.

“Loki Odinson.”

Loki's snapped to attention, gazing out of his cage at a figure in the shadows. His eyes widened and his blood turned to ice in his veins as the shape resolved itself, moving into the low light centered around his prison.

Thor was descending a staircase a few kilometers from Loki's prison when an explosion rocked him off his feet. He toppled forward, head over posterior, down the stairs. His warrior's instincts kicked in without conscious thought, driving him to regain his footing many steps from the bottom.

A hole had been blown open in one of the thick walls made to stand between Loki and freedom. Even from this distance, Thor could tell that the edges were frosted over with a thin layer of ice. Standing, Thor hefted Mjolnir and ran full-bore down the hallway. All thoughts of polite conversation vanished.

Loki emerged from the pitch dark hole, dressed in his magnificent, golden armor. The familiar horns of his helmet gave him an almost daemonic look, his red eyes glaring daggers at Thor. His skin had turned a dark shade of blue, a dark mist of ice magic coruscating about his hands.

“Brother, I do not have time to explain. Move away, for your own safety and the safety of Asgard.” Loki's breathing was quick and shallow, his irises tiny pinpricks amidst a sea of dark red.

“Brother, what madness is this?” Thor kept Mjolnir raised and readied, his eyes ever locked on Loki. His entire body tensed, watching his brother for any signs of magickal trickery.

“Thor, I can no longer reside here. Do not detain me, for I am resolved to quit this place with all haste.” Loki turned to leave, and Thor moved to stand in his way.

“You know I cannot allow this, brother. Coulson and many other mortals died defeating you; it would do them great dishonor to let you simply walk out of Asgard, as if nothing had happened.”

“Thor, move aside. There is no time.”

For a second, Thor's hammer wavered, prepared to strike out at his brother. Inexplicably, he began to laugh.

“A good try, my brother, but you can only fool me so many times before I grow wise to your tricks.” He reached out to to press a hand to Loki's chest. “This is nothing but an illusion.”

His hand struck solid matter. Loki could not help but smile at his brother's mistake.

“Right lesson, wrong time, brother.” Reaching up, Loki grabbed the bare flesh of Thor's arm. Thor let out a guttural cry, smoke rising from the growing frost-burn. As his brother wrenched his arm back, Loki crouched down and pressed his hands to the ground.

Ice spread across the smooth surface at a feverish pace, slipping under Thor's feet in less than a second. Thor raised his hammer in preparation to strike, his battle cry turning into a yelp of surprise as his feet slipped out from under him. He landed in a heap at Loki's feet, the thin sheet of ice cracking underneath his weight.

Loki passed over Thor's prone form in a whirlwind of green and gold. Dazed, Thor heard his footsteps growing fainter before disappearing entirely. Turning himself over, he rose on unsteady legs. The clatter of armor and clamor of voices called his attentions to the stairway, down which a squad of Royal Guard was hastily descending.

“Loki has escaped!” Thor called out, raising his hammer to gesture down one of the many hallways surrounding him. “Sound an alarm! Fan out and search the area! He can't have gotten far!”

The guards nodded their assent and quickly split into two groups; a single guard sprinted back up the stairs to sound the alarm, while the remaining group spread out amongst the maze-like halls that surrounded Loki's prison.

Thor was already ahead of them, a scowl marring his face.

Heimdall stood before his king in the throne room of Asgard's Royal Palace. His head was bowed, his hands clasped on the grip of his titanic sword. “My king,” he spoke, unable to hide a quaver of anger. “Loki has passed to a world or realm beyond my sight. Whatever means of escape he had taken, not only has he taken steps to mask its entrance and exit, he has masked himself, as well.”

Odin's face appeared pinched and far older than it had in ages. He sat atop his throne, bent forward, hands clasped between his knees. He looked tired and frail, his good eye unable to focus on anything for very long. Thor stood at Heimdall's side, his arms crossed and brows furrowed.

“Heimdall,” Odin spoke at last, his voice wavering slightly. “Return to your post. Continue to search the Nine Realms for any sign of Loki. If Valhalla be with us, he shall waver in his wards long enough for you to see him.” Heimdall bowed further and raised his sword off the ground, turning to exit the throne room and resume his search at the end of the Rainbow Bridge.

Thor didn't turn to watch him leave, instead approaching his father with purpose in his stride. “Father, we must begin to gather enough dark energy for the journey.” Odin had turned his head down, staring at his hands as his son spoke. “Wherever it is to which Loki has escaped , it is doubtless true that he is planning something.”

Odin raised a hand to forestall anything more. “My son, I am unable to gather any dark energy. The Odinsleep is upon me soon, I am afraid, and to undertake such a treacherous task in this weakened state could prove disastrous.” Odin closed his good eye and raised his hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly. “So much has transpired so quickly...”

“Father, are we to sit upon our laurels while Loki schemes in some far-off land, possibly raising another army against us?”

“I am to regain my strength, as the people of Asgard will look to their king for stability in the time to come.” The Allfather rose slowly, pressing his palms down hard against his throne to bring his wearied body to its feet. He reached out a hand, and instantly Mjolnir was summoned into his palm. Thor looked at his side then back to his father, his expression clouded in confusion.

Odin regarded the hammer that he had gifted his son. The weight, the balance, the dull sheen of its hammerhead; all so very familiar. “During your last search for Loki, I took it upon myself to search the bowels of the royal archives. Within its dark chambers are kept the ancient secrets of artifice and magic, lost to misfiling or purposefully kept hidden from the general populace for the safety of our peace. One such secret, hidden away in a lost file gathering dust, was the construction protocols for the Bifrost.”

He gripped the haft tightly, the runic symbols upon Mjolnir's hammerhead growing deeper and more pronounced. “ 'A weapon to destroy, and a tool to create'. Do you remember those words, my son? I spoke them at what would have been your coronation. It seems so long ago, now. In another lifetime altogether.

Odin straightened up, bringing his regal presence to bear in his throne room. His voice boomed with a measure of his youthful vigor, carried on by the weight and gravity of the task he was bestowing upon his firstborn son. He raised Mjolnir up high, his eye fixed upon Thor's worried face.

“Thor Odinson! It is with this hammer, Mjolnir, and the ancient knowledge of the artificiers of Asgard that you shall construct for our people a new Bifrost, identical to the first in both form and function. With this, you shall travel to Midgard and once against gather to your side the mortals with whose assistance you captured Loki the first time.” Odin lowered Mjolnir, stretching out his arm and using its hammerhead to gesture towards his son.

“I, Odin Allfather, task you and your mortal warrior kinsmen to recapture Loki by whatever means you deem necessary.” With a thought, the hammer flew from Odin's hand towards Thor. The Mighty Thor reached out with his own hand, grasping his weapon with renewed purpose. He went to one knee before his father, setting the hammer down with a low clang of metal against metal.

“It shall be so, father. And Valhalla help whosoever Loki dupes into helping him, for I certainly shall not.” With that oath of moment spoken, Thor stood and took leave of his father, intent on traveling to the archives and retrieving the protocols of which Odin had spoken. His red cape billowed behind him, lending an air of the heroic to his strides, before he turned and disappeared from sight.

Odin stood before his throne for some time after Thor had left, gazing upon the empty room before him. In days long past, Asgardian nobility had filled it to capacity, cheering for Thor in expectation of his coronation. Odin allowed himself a ghost of a smile, remembering the day when he ascended to the throne of Asgard. No pomp or circumstance preceded his rule; only bloodshed and pain, from which he forged a nation and a people that he hoped would outlast the stars themselves.

Thoughts of his adoptive son broke Odin's reverie so suddenly that he felt his ancient legs giving way underneath him. He reached down behind him, finding the armrests of his throne and sliding down into the comfortable cushion beneath him. Leaning back, Odin heaved a great sigh, feeling his muscles relax and his bones creak.

"Where, Loki," he whispered, his eye glaring at the universe, as if trying to force it to reveal Loki's location. "To where, in all the Nine Realms, have you escaped?"

At the edge of the Everfree Forest, thick-bodied trees grew sparsely. Their branches swayed and creaked in the wind, leaves whispering as they fluttered in the breeze. A yellow splotch accentuated with pink appeared in the sky, growing larger and more defined.

As she descended, Fluttershy smiled up at the ancient tree she had decided would make the best home for her small friends. Their legs wiggled excitedly in her mane, pulling a giggle from her throat. Trotting forward, she leaned her head out and closed her eyes. Four small jumping spiders crawled out of her mane and down her face. Perching on her nose, the spiders jumped the few inches onto the roug, gathering in a small semi-circle to stare up at Fluttershy.

Leaning back, Fluttershy smiled and opened her eyes. "Okay, ladies,” she spoke in low, comforting tones, “this is your new home. I'm so happy for all of you. Now, I want you four to stick together and keep each other safe. There are some predators around here that would just love to--"

Fluttershy didn't get a chance to finish her sentence, as without warning the tiny spiders turned tail and fled up the tree. Skittering madly, their tiny legs took them up and out of Fluttershy's sight in a few seconds.

She blinked in bewilderment, leaning her head back to gaze after her friends. Fluttershy prided herself on being able to understand and communicate effectively with animals. Right now, she was at a loss as to why they'd fled so suddenly.

A gust of wind rustled her feathers and fur. Turning, she cast her gaze skyward. Staining the sky was a brilliant aurora, intermixing with the blackest clouds she'd ever seen. The colors of the aurora shifted and flowed into one another, creating a tapestry of shades and hues that made Fluttershy's eyes hurt with their splendor.

The wind spoke once again, and she brought a wing up to protect her face. What had once been a gentle breeze was now climbing quickly into a full-scale hurricane. She leaned in against it to keep from being tipped flank over mane. Squinting her eyes, she spread the tips of her wings, peeking through.

A blinding flash filled her vision. Several loud thunderclaps assaulted Fluttershy's eardrums, leaving her hearing dulled and replaced with a high, constant ringing. The force of the thunderclaps struck her hard in the chest and she had to struggle to stay standing, bending her knees slightly and spreading her hooves out. She didn't dare try to fly away in such a wind.

Deciding that this was getting all out of hoof, Fluttershy began to back up toward the treeline of the Everfree Forest. As if on a cue from some malevolent deity, another flash of light burned into her retinae and a final thunderclap slammed against her with brutal force. Finally lifted off her hooves, the wind ran her back against the home she had just gifted to her friends.

The breath knocked out of her, Fluttershy fell down onto her stomach, her hooves splayed haphazardly underneath her. Her wings laying limply by her body as her as she struggled through a fog of confusion. Folding her wings back against her body, she pulled her hooves up underneath herself and rose on shaky legs. Tilting her head back, she squeaked in surprise.

A perfect circle several feet in diameter had been burned into the grass. Steam rose from some thing that was curled up inside the scorched halo. Fluttershy's brain tried in vain to give meaning to the jumbled mass of gold and green it saw. After a few moments of shocked silence, she found a point of reference and everything began to fall into place around it: the thing had horns. From that familiar image, her mind was able to extrapolate the rest of its body: a head, two arms, and two legs contained inside some strange suit of armor.

With motions as slow and deliberate as her own, the ape-like thing rose onto its strong legs. For the first time the pegasus got a true sense of how large it was as it towered a full head's height above her. Another squeak escaped her, and the thing whirled about. Its face was a dark and icy blue, flat and harshly angular. Its nose was a mere triangle of flesh and cartilage between a pair of blood-red eyes, set above a mouth thin and turned down with malice.

"Monster!" Fluttershy screamed and turned, scrambling into the Everfree Forest. Within seconds she had disappeared, leaving the new arrival by himself atop that smoking circle of charred grass.

Author's Note

This is a re-edited chapter (13/03/13). I removed a lot of the extraneous dialogue and superfluous description. I hope it flows better.

Loki's Arrival

Loki’s body burned and ached. Opening his eyes, he gazed down at the ground. His vision slightly blurred, his fingers burned against the scorched earth. The muscles of his legs screamed in agony as he forced them to stretch out and bring his body upright. His back added its painful voice to the growing chorus of objections when he straightened himself up, feeling his vertebrae snapping and popping back into place. His shoulders creaked and groaned as he pushed them back, shoulder blades almost meeting across the top of his spine. Tilting his head back slightly, Loki suppressed a groan of exertion.

A sound met his ears, and at first Loki attributed it to perhaps the babbling of a brook nearby. A split-second later, his mind fully interpreted the sound: a voice, stuttering.

With painful deliberateness, he turned. Loki's eyebrows rose of their own accord, his face trading its usual blank neutrality for one of genuine surprise. Standing before him was what he could only describe as a tiny horse- barely high enough to reach his chest. It coloring was garish to say the very least- a lemon-yellow coat and light pink mane and tail. Its mouth lay open, slack-jawed in horror as she stared back at him. Upon her head she wore a wide-brimmed hat, its crown ringed with flowers, their colors ranging across the pastel spectrum.

"Monster!" Screaming at the top of her lungs, she turned suddenly, fleeing into the forest. As she turned, Loki got a look at her body from the side, and was finally able to see her wings tucked against her ribs.

“A pegasus?” He whispered to himself, making no move to stop her escape. Her hat flew off her head as she vanished into the forest. It flipped over itself, carried by the breeze, before coming to rest on the ground at Loki’s feet. Staring down at it Loki bent at the knees to reach down, grabbing the discarded bit of clothing. As he reached down to grasp its brim with his fingers, he saw his hand and paused momentarily. His entire hand had turned a dark, icy blue, his fingernails the color of freshly fallen snow. No doubt his face was now a matching blue, his eyes a deep, blood red. Curling his hand into a fist, it took but a thought to peel away that blue flesh, replacing it with the lighter, more natural tones of his Asgardian heritage. His stomach churned at the sight, the memory of his adopted father's lies rising unbidden to his mind.

Turning his eyes back to the hat in his hand, he tossed it back and forth between his hands contemplatively. His cape shuddered in the breeze, and in the distance he could hear the call of some strange beast. Casting his gaze opposite he forest, a field of healthy green grass rolled way into the distance, ending in a tiny, rustic village. Further off into the distance, Loki could barely make out a mountain-side kingdom glittering in the mid-morning sun.

“You'd like nothing more,” he whispered venomously, turning his eyes to the sky, “than for me to march down there and claim it all as my own, wouldn't you?” The blue sky gave no answer, and yet Loki could almost feel Heimdall's gaze sweeping over him. “How easy that would make it for you, guardian. Unluckily for you, I am not as stupid as all that.”

A scream cut through the relative quiet of the day, and from the pitch, Loki instantly attributed it to the frightened pegasus. Curse the luck, the tiny coward had probably found herself at the mercy of some fell beast deeper in the forest. He cast his gaze toward the village, then back at the forest. The wheels turned inside his godly brain, mulling over every option available to him in but a few seconds.

Raising a hand, Loki closed his eyes and muttered a few words of invocation. A shaft of ice grew from a small mote of dark blue at the center of his palm. Within seconds he held a seven-foot stave, its bladed tip curved inwardly. Bending forward to duck under the low foliage, Loki made his way into the edge of the forest, holding his frigid staff out in front of him to push apart some low-hanging vines..

"Consider yourself lucky, pegasus," Loki breathed. "Your convenience is your salvation." The Everfree Forest closed in on Loki from all sides.

Fluttershy's breath came in quick gasps as her hooves pounded against the floor of the Everfree Forest. Her eyes were still pinpricks of fear, staring out ahead of her as she ran. Her wings remained resolutely locked against her, her panicked mind unable to comprehend that the appendages would at all aid in her escape.

The dense foliage of the Everfree Forest suddenly gave way, and Fluttershy's eyes burned as sunlight suddenly blazed into her field of vision. She cried out, snapping her eyes shut, slamming her hooves down into the soft earth and skidding to a halt. Her sides moved in and out rapidly as she gulped down deep breaths of air, her tail, wings, and legs twitching every so often.

Fluttershy forced herself to breathe in and out in a more controlled manner: she took in a draught of oxygen, held it, and slowly released it. She repeated the process over and over, using the technique to try and calm her frazzled nerves. Eventually her body began to calm, her heartbeat slowing down to only slight above its normal rate. Her tail lay behind her, the graceful, curled tip resting on the ground as it always did. Even her wings had stopped shaking.

She allowed herself a small smile, tilting her head up and opening her eyes to take in her new surroundings. What she found wasn't particularly troubling or interesting: it looked as if she had burst into some kind of natural quarry, a clearing of nothing but dirt and rocks of all sizes. A gentle breeze blew against her body, and in the distance Fluttershy could hear what sounded like a river raging through the forest.

As serene as the scene around her was, Fluttershy was struck by a sudden, horrible thought. That thing was loose in Equestria! And she'd run away from it, without warning a soul of its presence. Fluttershy spread her wings and bent at the hooves, tilting her head back to stare up at the clear blue sky, her mind racing. She needed to get out and warn the others of that monster!

A sudden, loud bang made her squeak in surprise, her wings locking back against her sides. Looking down, she saw a rock rolling away from its resting place atop another, larger rock. Her heart, already trying to pick up the pace, slowed as she breathed a sigh of relief.

A gentle nudging at the back of her left forehoof made her tail crack like a whip in surprise once again. Almost as soon as the panic hit it was gone, replaced with a more rational explanation: it was nothing but a small critter trying to move past her hoof. Looking down, she lifted up her hoof to allow whatever it was to pass.

Freed of the imposition of her hoof, another small rock started rolling of its own accord across the ground. For a moment her brain simply refused to accept what she was seeing. It was so at odds with what she was expecting that for a brief flash she imagined she was looking at some strange kind of beetle or crab that only mimicked the appearance of a small rock. As it continued to roll away, she saw other rocks of all shapes and sizes beginning to roll with it, in sync with its motions.

The rocks began to converge on a gigantic boulder yards from where she stood. The animated pebbles began to climb atop it, coalescing into an animated creature that was becoming frighteningly familiar to Fluttershy. Four great masses of rocks and pebbles began to form, fashioning themselves after great club-like hands and huge, flat feet attached to thick-bodied limbs. At the center of the rock congregation, the suggestions of a face began to form; it bore no head in the traditional sense, its entire torso shifting around to reveal the split of a massive maw set below two black, shiny eyes of volcanic rock.

A great cry erupted from the creature, several flat rocks rubbing against one another in its immense body to produce that animal call. Slamming its giant hands down into the ground, the creature grunted as it pulled itself up. The earth split, its hunchbacked form stumbling forward on its two malformed legs.

A quarlem. The name came into Fluttershy's mind unbidden, and suddenly she knew exactly how much danger she was in. Quarlems were fiercely territorial magical creatures. The beast turned slowly, the unbalanced weight of its hunchbacked boulder making its movements deliberate and ungainly. It regarded Fluttershy with its unfeeling black eyes, its large mouth slackly open, baring rock-teeth made of shale sharpened to fine points; just perfect for ripping fur, flesh, wing, and bone.

With a mighty roar, the quarlem began its slow and inexorable charge, the rocks of one of its hands shifting about- changing from the general shape of a flat three-fingered hand into the suggestion of a hammer. It raised the newly-made weapon in preparation for flattening Fluttershy into paste.

Fluttershy screamed for the second time that day as her body reacted before her brain could keep up, her wings spreading and her hooves bending. She pushed off the ground and took to the sky just as the quarlem brought its hammer smashing down in a clumsy over-arm arch, the ground quaking underneath its blow. She flew over its shoulder, pumping her wings as fast as she could.

The quarlem reached out with its other hand in a show of preternatural speed, grabbing tight to Fluttershy's tail. She cried out as her escape was violently arrested, looking down to see her tail captured in the giant brute's fist. Fluttershy flapped her wings for all she was worth, trying to keep herself as separate from the horrible creature as she possibly could. The quarlem made to pull her closer and swipe at her with its hammer, but Fluttershy stopped flapping her wings and let herself fall closer to the ground. The hammer swung wide above her, the breeze of its passing making her mane flap about her head. The quarlem raged and tried to bring the hammer down on her from above. Fluttershy's survival instinct proved to be too much for the beast, flying upward to try and free herself.

Its rage building from the audacity of the pony-thing's refusal to just lay down and die, the quarlem let out a mighty roar of frustration and slammed Fluttershy against the ground. Her head struck the ground with a flat thump, the breath knocked from her lungs. A sickening pop spoke of a wing that had become dislocated. Her hooves lay atop her haphazardly as she sprawled on the ground, her eyes dazed and unfocused.

Through unfocused eyes, Fluttershy could see the vague outline of the quarlem above her, raising its hammerhand and letting out another roar of malice. She tried to force herself to get up, to turn herself onto her side and get her hooves underneath her so she could take off running in any direction. Her body refused to respond, her limbs numb to her frantic need to escape. The quarlem's silhouette brought its hammerhand down onto her, and Fluttershy closed her eyes and braced herself for oblivion.

"Halt!" A voice rang out across the clearing, and the quarlem's motions stopped instantly. The flat end of the hammer floated mere inches from Fluttershy's face, bits of dirt and tiny pebbles flaking off its form to patter her once-clean yellow coat. She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, her hooves curled so tightly against her body that her legs were beginning to cramp terribly.

The beast straightened up and turned, seeing the form of Loki standing many yards behind it. He stood before the edge of the forest, resolute and defiant, the bottom end of his ice staff held against the ground next to him. Behind him, thick vines swayed in the breeze, draped between the gnarled trees of the Everfree Forest.

"Battle someone that might give you a challenge, monster." Loki bellowed that challenge, sliding onto his back foot and raising his staff in a defensive position. His ice-blue face grew alive with a challenging smirk, red eyes dancing with mischief as they stared into the volcanic eyes of the quarlem. He showed no fear, no weakness to the creature, daring it to bring its weapons to bear down upon him.

The quarlem's simple, magical mind balked at being so openly challenged on its own territory. The pony-thing underneath it forgotten, it squared its lopsided shoulders to its new opponent. The rocks of its hammerhand blasted apart as several spikey bits of quartz appeared, turning the hammer into a crude mace. Raising it into the sky, it brought it down to the ground in a display of aggression.

With another roar it charged, swinging its mace over its head in preparation to smash the intruder into a greasy strain. Loki tensed, leaning further back on his defensive leg, raising his staff in preparation of the beast's strike.

The quarlem was upon him within seconds, swinging its weapon down on the Asgardian prince. Its mace never connected with anything solid however, for as soon as it came within striking distance of Loki, the god's presence shimmered and the mace passed right through it. The image vanished as its structural integrity was breached, leaving nothing but the faint tang of electrical discharge in the air.

As the charge failed and its swing connected with naught but an illusion, it tipped forward and rolled out of the clearing and into the forest. The nestle of thick vines tangled the quarlem up as it tumbled feet-over-boulder into that thick forest web. The dull thing struggled with all its might, but the vines were the most insidious of traps; the more it pulled on them, the more vines it loosed from their resting places, which fell down and wrapped around its limbs.

With an air of smug calmness about him, Loki emerged from his hiding place. He lay his ice staff on his shoulder, walking with a slow and easy gait, his eyes on the strange beast caught in his carefully-laid trap. His horned helmet gave him the appearance of a predator having captured some unaware grazing beast in a cunning snare.

The beast, for its part, did another surprisingly sensible thing as it once again shifted the rocks of its macehand around; this time into an axe-shape, the blade of the axe tipped with the same kind of flat, sharp shale. It began to hack at the vines, desperately trying to free itself. Loki raised his staff, bracing himself against the ground.

"And yet, rock creature," he spoke, the curved blade of his staff beginning to bloom with power. "I think you were slightly smarter than my brother." Thrusting his staff forward, he unleashed the full fury of his Frost Giant heritage, a blizzard of frigid wind erupting from the tip of his spear. Tree branches turned brittle and broke with loud snapping sounds; vines seized up tight around the creature; leaves became thin, brittle flakes that broke apart like glass in the tempest. The creature itself continued to struggle as much as it could, but Loki's magic could not be denied. A thick coating of ice formed around the creature, slowing and finally stopping its flailing limbs as Loki's blizzard locked the creature into a deep, cold stasis.

The winds soon died down and Loki surveyed his good work. The forest rang out with the creaking and groaning of ice. Looking behind him, he caught a glimpse of the prone pegasus. Without even looking at it, he raised his staff and directed a blast of energy at the quarlem. Its body screeched in protest as the energy impacted before bursting forth in an expanding blossom of rock, ice, and dirt.

Slowly going to one knee, he got a better look at the pegasus. His first impression was that, whatever relation this creature might have with horses he knew, they were tangential at best. The form was there- four legs, four hooves, a tail, a mane. But the proportions were off. A small, almost dainty muzzle below the largest eyes on the largest head he'd ever seen on such a small body. Her coloring made him wonder how evolution could ever allow such a garish creature to survive. Most odd about her was the strange symbols emblazoned on her flank: three butterflies. Loki could discern little meaning from such strange runes, though if he were to hazard a guess, they were used as some kind of identification.

His musings here interrupted when he heard something crashing through the underbrush, journeying from the general direction of the village. Voices followed the sounds, indistinct at this distance. Loki was up and on his feet in a flash, turning to run past Fluttershy's prone form and disappear into the forest. Concentrating, he banished the garish golden helmet upon his head as he turned to hide himself behind a low, fat tree. Pressing his hands against its aged bark, he leaned his head to the side, peeking around its wide-bodied girth to see who or what was barreling through the forest.

The three shapes that emerged from the forest made his eyebrows shoot up and his mouth gape open.

By Valhalla and the Nine Realms, this day was getting stranger by the second.

"Over here guys! It's this way, by the Everfree Forest! Hurry up!" Rainbow Dash called over her shoulder to her friends, flying off toward the forest's edge. Rarity and Pinkie Pie hot on her heels, Rainbow stopped and stared down at the carbonized circle of grass. Pinkie Pie crinkled her nose and brought a hoof up to her face, while Rarity favored the blue pegasus with a half-lidded look of derision.

"Is this it, Dash?" Rarity spoke in that aristocratic and subtly condescending tone that made Rainbow want to punch the proper pony in her flank. Rainbow was about to make a retort when Pinkie retched.

"Ew! This smells like burnt toast wrapped in fried puke! Ew ew ew ew!" She stamped her hooves in protest. Dash and Rarity looked at each other in confusion. Neither of them smelled anything that bad. True, the circle of burned grass didn't exactly smell pleasant, but such a reaction seemed a bit overblown.

Rarity harumphed softly, tossing her mane to the side. "I cannot believe you dragged us all the way out here to see some strange circle of burned grass, Rainbow Dash! The way you described it, it sounded rather interesting. But this..." Rarity regarded the circle with mild distaste, before giving dismissive wave of her hoof. "This is only mildly interesting, at best."

Rainbow furrowed her eyebrows and frowned. "Aw c'mon, guys!" She spoke, beating her wings to fly up a few feet and point up into the sky. "I did see something really cool, like I told you! There was this huge black cloud and this gigantic aurora, see? And then these three lightning bolts struck the ground, right here. The weirdest thing was, I thought I saw something come down with the lightning...like it was riding it all the way down!"

Rainbow was panting with the speed and intensity of her explanation, nervously shifting her gaze between her two friends. Pinkie Pie and Rarity exchanged a glance, and began to snicker. After a few seconds, they couldn't contain themselves any longer and broke out into hearty guffaws; truthfully, only Pinkie Pie guffawed. Rarity simply brought a hoof in front of her mouth and tittered in her girlish manner.

"Oh, Dashie," Pinkie spoke, almost rolling on the ground with the strength of her laughter. "You always pull the best pranks! And this one! What a doozy!" She burst into a fresh set of giggles, her entire body shaking with the force of her bubbly, effervescent personality. Rarity shook her head and smiled, before raising an eyebrow as she caught sight something sitting in the grass a few yards away.

Trotting away from her two friends, Rarity summoned her levitation spell and picked the thing up, bringing it closer. Somepony must have lost a hat around here. The poor dear, thought Rarity. It was such a beautiful hat, too. The flowers appeared to be fresh, their pastel colors pleasing to the eye. Why, if Rarity didn't know any better, she might think that this hat belonged to...

Rarity had no time to dwell on her sudden realization before the ground shook underneath her. Pinkie Pie's giggles were interrupted as she was knocked off her hooves and onto her side, tilting her head to keep it properly aligned with the world. Even Rainbow Dash could sense that something had happened. The three of them turned and looked at the Everfree Forest, their suspicions roused as that quake subsided.

Rarity returned to her friends with the hat in tow, her unease building. "Girls," she spoke, floating the hat up so they could see. "Look what I found on the ground. It looks exactly like one of Fluttershy's hats." Rainbow Dash floated closer and used her hooves to grab the hat out of Rarity's spell, examining it as Pinkie Pie righted herself to stand by Rarity. The fashionista's sense of dread continued to grow as she turned to stare at the edge of the Everfree Forest. She did recall that Fluttershy had spoken something about moving some spiders (shudder!) into a new home in the forest (double shudder!) before they were to meet for a spa treatment today.

Another quake rocked through the ground and up their hooves, accompanied by a a loud, reverberating bang. Rainbow Dash settled down onto the ground, setting the hat down before her, her eyes trained on the edge of the forest. Already she had put two and two together. She turned to her friends and gave them a serious look.

"C'mon, guys! I think Fluttershy's mixed up in some kind of trouble in there!" She motioned back to the circle of charred grass with a forehoof. "And if it has anything to do with whatever it was I saw, it could be really bad trouble! Come on!" Without waiting for her friends' agreement, Rainbow Dash took off into the forest, tucking her wings down underneath her. Rarity followed, her love for her friend outweighing any fear she had of Everfree. Pinkie Pie ran as well, eschewing her usual happy-hopping gait for something with a bit more speed.

For a while, the three of them simply ran, the sounds of their breathing and their hooves on the ground adding to the cacophony of forest sounds surrounding them. Rainbow Dash was wondering what sort of strange monster had been deposited in Equestria by that freaky storm; Rarity's stomach was chilled as her worry for Fluttershy grew unabated; Pinkie Pie was worried for Fluttershy as well, but she was Pinkie Pie, so her hyper little mind was also working on a new chimicherry recipe, as well as wondering what kind of music to play at her next party.

The forest thinned out quickly, and soon the three friends burst into the same clearing Fluttershy had happened upon mere minutes before. Rainbow Dash slowed to a trot, examining her surroundings quickly, before her eyes caught site of something that definitely didn't belong.

"Fluttershy!" She called out, spreading her wings and flying over to the still body of her friend as fast as she could. Landing next to her, Rainbow Dash bent down wrapped a hoof underneath the pegasus' head, shaking her gently to try and rouse her. She felt the presence of Rarity and Pinkie Pie near, but didn't acknowledge them; Dash was far too concerned with the health of her friend.

"Gosh! She looks like she was in a bad fight!" Pinkie worried on her bottom lip. Fluttershy's right wing lay against her body at an odd angle, her body was covered in dust and debris, and a thin line of blood ran from one of her nostrils and down her face, dripping off onto the ground below. Rainbow Dash shook her head a little harder before Rarity stepped in and shooed her away.

"Stop it, Rainbow! You're going to hurt the poor dear even more!" Rarity leaned down and pressed her ear to Fluttershy's side. Closing her eyes and trying to tune out her friends' breathing, she picked out a weak but steady heartbeat and let out a deep sigh. Leaning back up, she looked up at Rainbow, who was floating a few feet away, a worried look on her face.

Her horn glowed, and with a bit of effort, she lifted Fluttershy's body off the ground and pushed her toward Rainbow Dash. The pegasus' eyes went a bit wide at suddenly having another pony shoved toward her, but she soon got the message and held out her forehooves to receive Fluttershy's limp body.

"I want you to fly to the Ponyville Hospital as fast as you possibly can, Rainbow Dash," Rarity spoke quickly. "Find Nurse Redheart and explain the situation. She can take it from there." Rainbow Dash looked down at Fluttershy in her arms, before straightening up and offering a quick nod.

"You got it, Rarity! I didn't get this cutie mark for being the slowest pegasus in Equestria! I'll have Fluttershy there in no time!" Spreading her wings to their fullest, Rainbow Dash was off into the sky like a shot, the extra weight and drag of the companion in her arms no match for her determination. Fluttershy's health, perhaps her very life, rested in Rainbow Dash's hooves. She wouldn't, couldn't, let her friend down.

In a few seconds, Rainbow Dash had disappeared into the sky. Rarity and Pinkie Pie were left alone in that clearing. Rarity looked around, furrowing her eyebrows.

"What do you suppose did that to her, Pinkie Pie?" Rarity looked down at the ground, her eyes drawn to a sea of tiny, sharp pebbles. They seemed to encompass the whole ground, intermixed with small spots of dampness on the ground. Looking up, she saw no clouds in the sky that would explain the small damp spots, so she put the detail out of her mind. Pinkie Pie could only shrug in response to the question.

"No idea, Rarity. Everfree Forest is so full of big, mean animals that it could have been, well, anything!" She offered a shrug, pursing her lips in thought. "If only Fluttershy were here! She'd know what it was that did that to her! And not just because she's such a big expert on all kinds of animals, but because she was here when it happened!" Pinkie Pie nodded with a smile. Rarity could only facehoof in exasperation. Any other pony she would call out on being completely insensitive, but not Pinkie Pie. Such behavior was just, as many ponies would say, 'Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie.'

The two ponies gave one last look around before, with a silent agreement, they turned and made their way out of the clearing. Rarity disappeared back into the forest, Pinkie Pie in tow. Before she too could disappear into the Everfree Forest, the pink pony stopped suddenly and turned her head to stare across the clearing into edge of the clearing. She narrowed her eyes and glared at a big, fat tree that looked like it had been there forever; her Pinkie Sense was tingling something fierce, but she couldn't put a hoof on why.

Shrugging her shoulders, she turned and hopped behind Rarity, her bouncy tail and equally bouncy mane adding an extra spring to her step.

Loki pressed himself tight to the tree, willing himself hidden from those three strange ponies. The pink one seemed satisfied that nothing was amiss, as she shrugged her shoulders and bounded back into the forest, her strange mane and tail acting more like a kind of candy than hair. Breathing a sigh of relief, Loki turned his back on the scene and slowly went over the events in his head.

Turning to gaze upon the tree that had been his hiding spot for that past few minutes, he reached up and swiped a hand across its bark. With a few flourishes of his hand, a perfectly flat pane of mirrored ice twinkled in the noon-day sun. Looking at himself in that ice mirror, Loki pondered the spell he was about to use. He hadn't used such a spell in quite a long time. Certainly not since the Asgardians had stopped making regular journeys to Earth. He momentarily wondered if he could handle such a spell while keeping himself hidden from Heimdall. Loki banished the thought immediately. He was the God of Mischief, a master of magic and sorcery. He could handle a little transformation spell while keeping himself hidden.

Closing his eyes, Loki let the warmth of the spell wash over him. His long, green cape began to shorten, preparing for the changes about to overtake his body. The first feeling- or lack of feeling, rather- he began to notice was a numbness in his fingers and toes. Slowly, his digits began to draw back into his palms and the soles of his feet. His spine began to shorten and his ribs shifted around, elongating in places and shortening in others.

His weight redistributed itself, until he could no longer stand on his feet. With a grunt of pain and effort, he went down onto all fours. His neck was beginning to grow now, muscles thickening and stretching out. His ears climbed up his head, growing larger and gaining pointed tips. The most painful changes were taking place on his face, as his nose flattened out and merged with his growing jawline.

Fur, a dark icy blue, grew in irregular patches all over his flesh. His leggings and leg armor had disappeared, leaving him mostly naked, only the torso section of his green bodysuit and his golden chest armor remaining. With sickening cracks of new bones growing and reorganizing themselves, Loki was suddenly the owner of triple-jointed rear legs. His hands and feet had flattened out, and hard hooves pushed their way out of the soft flesh of those rounded appendages.

Stamping his hooves as the pain began to reach its crescendo, he was acutely aware of a tail growing from the top of his flanks, black to match the color of his new mane. His mane was styled in much the same way as his hair had been, slicked back with frayed, messy ends. His face fully elongated, for a moment he thought himself finished with the pain of transformation. A sudden and sharp pain in the midst of his new forehead made him count at the ground, whinnying as his horn began to take shape. It grew by degrees, excruciatingly slow as the nerve endings built themselves from scratch underneath the horn's hard outer shell.

His nostrils flared and his eyes closed tight as his entire body quaked, his legs shaking underneath him as his weakened body struggled to cope with the powerful spell he had forced it to endure. Slowly, he pulled his legs closer together, straightening himself up and stretching his neck out. Tilting his head forward, he opened his eyes to stare at his new form in that mirrored sheet of ice.

Staring back at him was a young, dark-ice-blue unicorn stallion with a slicked-back black mane and magenta eyes. He stood barely taller than the four ponies he'd witnessed that day, his height adjusted to what he presumed would be the average for a male of their species. The only clothing he wore was now the torso portion of his green bodysuit, as well as the golden chest armor, modified to fit his new form. His cape, shortened sufficiently, lay atop his back, barely long enough to reach his flanks.

Turning his head, he regarded his flank and his new cutie mark. He had considered giving himself a cutie mark to symbolize his talent for deception and trickery, but had decided against it. Instead, he'd decided on something simple- three heavily stylized versions of ice crystals, fashioned after the shape of a snowflake.

Summoning his helmet back to his head- with a modification for size and to allow room for his horn- Loki galloped out of the forest with as much haste as he could muster. He was sure his wards against being seen had held throughout the transformation, so his next concern was finding this Ponyville and setting himself to the task of inserting himself into the pony's society.

His hooves carrying him with more haste than his two feet would have allowed, he made it through the Everfree Forest and out into the grassy hills in almost no time, making a beeline for the village in the distance.

Applejack hated hospitals.

They were such clean and sterile places. The smells, the sounds, the light itself seemed wrong to the hard-working farmpony. Every bed was made to be generically comfortable, all the food was made to be easily palatable by anypony that had to suffer a visit; even all the reading material was unchallenging and bland. Hospitals had no personality, as far was Applejack was concerned.

It took something as serious as a friend being in the hospital to get Applejack to set one hoof inside. Even injuries sustained on the farm couldn't be counted on to get the orange-furred mare to take a trip. She'd rather fix it herself in her own home than to come here and sit under the buzzing lights and be fed tasteless food.

"Thank you all for coming..." Fluttershy lay on her bed as she had since Applejack had arrived. The pegasus had been asleep when Applejack first got there, panting and sick with worry. She had been in the market, selling her apples as usual for that time of the day, when Pinkie Pie had rushed up to her and started talking about a mile a minute. After she'd gotten the pink party pony to slow down and actually explain things on a level a normal pony could understand, the story she told made Applejack abandon her cart for the day and rush to the hospital as fast as her hooves would take her.

"Shoot, sugarcube, what kinda friends would we be if'n we didn't come t' see if you were okay?" Applejack reached out to gently ruffle Fluttershy's mane. All around the pegasus' bed, her friends smiled and nodded in agreement. Twilight had been the last to arrive, Rainbow Dash having flown off to tell her of the situation after she'd dropped off Fluttershy. The purple mare turned to Fluttershy and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"What I don't get is, if you were attacked by a quarlem, how on earth did you get out of it?" Twilight tilted her head wonderingly. Fluttershy had been awake long enough to fully relate the story as best she could remember, often having to stop to take sips of her water or simply catch her breath. Nurse Redheart had stated that she did have a concussion; her dislocated wing had been easily and painlessly fixed while she'd been knocked unconscious, and she'd be back in the air again in no time.

In answer to Twilight's question, Fluttershy took a sip of her water and heaved a small sigh. "I'm not really sure, Twilight. I remember someone got its attention before it was able to hurt me..." She reached up to her bandaged head with her forehooves, gently rubbing her temples. "Oh, it's so hard to remember. I passed out shortly after that. The next thing I remember, I woke up in this hospital bed..."

Twilight opened her mouth to voice another concern, but was interrupted when a new voice spoke from the doorway.

"Perhaps I can be of some assistance: I destroyed the quarlem and saved your life."

Everypony's head turned to regard a strange-looking pony standing in the hospital room's doorway. He was a blue unicorn stallion with magenta eyes; nothing unusual about that in any way. His attire, however, made him stand out from any pony the six friends had ever encountered. His golden armor was somewhat similar to the armor worn by Canterlot's Royal Guard, but it was far too angular to be a perfect match. The helmet atop his head bore a pair of long, curved horns, giving him the appearance of some kind of fierce predator. Behind him stood Nurse Redheart, who peeked over his shoulder to speak.

"I'm so sorry to barge in unannounced, dears," Redheart sighed, giving Loki a sidelong look. "This stallion seemed to know Fluttershy, so I signed him in and lead him up here. I hope that's all right."

Loki regarded the six ponies, one at a time, taking in their expressions and gauging their reactions. A mixture of confusion and mild fright, but no suspicion that he could see. Excellent. Raising a forehoof, he continued to explain his situation.

"I am Loki, a traveler from a realm far beyond yours. Earlier today, I arrived in your world of Equestria on the outskirts of the Everfree Forest. I am afraid the after-effects of my travel methods might have given the false impression of a monstrous appearance, for I frightened the pegasus known as Fluttershy and she fled into the forest. I could not, in good conscience, leave her to some unknown and possibly dangerous fate, so I gave chase.

"Finding her in a situation far outside her control, I intervened. I have considerable skill in the use of magic, so I was able to dispatch the quarlem. Unfortunately, I was unable reach Fluttershy before it had done her some harm."

Bending his forehooves, Loki lowered his head and the front of his body in a show of contrition and deference. "I ask your forgiveness, Fluttershy. I should have been able to reach you before that monster lay a single hand upon your head."

Straightening himself up, Loki gazed upon Fluttershy in her bed, surrounded by her friends. The pink pony, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash he recognized. Two new additions- a purple unicorn with a strange cute mark depicting several diamond shapes, along with an orange pony with a rustic-looking hat upon her head- stared at him along with the ponies he had seen before.

Fluttershy's cheeks grew bright red and she tried to hunker down into the bed, her voice barely cracking the decibel level of a whisper. She mumbled something that Loki could not hear, but he presumed was some kind of expression of thanks for his heroic intervention on her behalf.

For a few moments, a heavy silence descended upon the hospital room, as six pony friends stared at that strange newcomer to their land. Finally, the pink pony broke off from her friends and trotted up toward Loki. She apparently had no concept of personal space, as she got as close as she could, leaning up to put her face mere inches from Loki's own. He leaned his head back and stared down at her as she examined him, narrowing her eyes in much the same way she had done back in the forest. A chill ran up and down Loki's spine.

Pinkie Pie glared at Loki for a few more seconds before all scrutiny melted away from her face. She leaned back and put on her best, most friendly 'welcome-to-Ponyville' grin.

"Where didja get that super-cool hat, Loki?"

Author's Note

Updated chapter, 25/4/13

A Day in Canterlot, Part 2

When he returned to Ponyville, Loki resolved to apologize to Pinkie Pie for ever hesitating to appear at one of her parties. Any one of those childish affairs would be preferable to the execrable slog in which he found himself.

The elite of Canterlot stood in small groups across the verdant green lawn of the Canterlot Royal Library. Soft, mundane harp music combined with the soothing notes of accompanying bass and violins worked to stuff cotton into Loki's ears. An endless parade of dull conversation punctuated by insincere gladhoofing and flankkissing made Loki yearn for the simplicity of being tossed around by an oafish green brute. The ponies did not so much come in their best ensembles as they were coifed in tacky costumes representing what they thought high-toned and fancy ponies should wear.

Loki stood between Photo Finish and Hoity Toity, being introduced to what he estimated was the eleven-millionth snooty and possibly inbred pony. The overly-dressed stallion greeted him by baring too-white teeth in a mouthy grin that was just begging for a swift kick. I'm Prince Blueblood, nephew of the princess, etcetera, etcetera. Loki regurgitated an appropriately impressed platitude that seemed to mollify the infuriatingly self-impressed stallion. Working to control his gag reflex, Loki politely excused himself from the social gauntlet closing about him, citing a pressing need for punch.

Arriving at the punch table, Loki waited as a bored-looking attendant poured him a measure of the lightly alcoholic beverage. Floating the cup near him, Loki skirted the edge of the gathering, making sure to avoid eye contact. If he had to suffer through another long and self-important introduction, he was worried he might use the unfortunate pony as the basis for his next ice sculpture.

Finally having a moment to think, it occurred to him that he had not yet met the guest of honor. Magenta eyes flicked to the side, stealing glances at the clots of ponies milling about across the green field. In spite of his best efforts, he was unable to identify a central hub of activity, a place where the guest of honor might be entertaining. His lips pursed, threatening a curse. For a moment he considered abandoning the affair altogether.

Hoity Toity's words echoed in his mind, bringing Loki about to push through the party with a purpose. Attempts at small-talk were rebuffed with stony silence, leaving ponies male and female looking at the gold-armored visitor in confusion. Even the fast-talking Photo Finish did not merit a second glance as he sliced through that crowd like a golden knife through butter. The library loomed over him, door held open for the party, and without hesitation he passed through the threshold.

The smell of ancient scrolls and aging codices greeted Loki's senses, a comforting miasma of knowledge and incantations that brought a smile to his face. Shelves three times his size creaked and leaned off into the distance, ladders and stairs leaning against their wooden bodies. A large desk lay bare and abandoned right in front of the entrance, a plaque reading Tattered Page set into its wooden face. Thick-bound books, thin codices, tightly bound scrolls: that and more were stuffed haphazardly down the length of the giant wooden constructs, small golden plaques below each shelf proclaiming their subject matters and place in their sorting system.

Voices called Loki's attention toward the interior of the library. Weak yellowed lights above cast a warm glow with deep shadows across the aisles as he maneuvered his way between them. An opening finally presented itself, revealing a scene that made Loki raise an incredulous eyebrow. Two ponies sat on their haunches on either side of a makeshift chess table, set up on several stacks of books. A bottle of liquor open between them, two wooden flagons gathered condensation atop teetering book-tables.

"Spitfire, you are trying my patience," spoke a ruddy-red earth pony. His voice was deep, his accent speaking of cold winters and hard labor. "You fly so recklessly and yet play so defensively. Damnation!" The size and scale of Tattered Page briefly reminded Loki of Applejack's brother. His face sagged with age, though his green eyes sparkled with a youthful vigor contrasting the way his forehoof shook slightly as he moved a knight across the weathered board. Tattered ran a chipped hoof across his dark green mane, the yellowed light glinting off gold-lined spectacles balanced on end of his nose.

"A mare has to have some inconsistencies in her life," Spitfire chuckled, taking a long pull from her flagon. Loki knew immediately where she gained the incendiary note in her name: her bright yellow coat and orange mane gave the pegasus the appearance of a flame brought to life. Dark orange eyes flicked toward Loki, drawn to a reflection of light off his helmet. "Look alive, Tattered. You've got a visitor."

Stepping out into a pool of yellow light, Loki bowed his head for a moment, raising back up and affecting a genial smile. "Tattered Page, I am Loki Odinson. I come to offer my congratulations on your retirement." The words felt stilted, forced, but he pressed on. When it came to social currency, every scrap counted.

Tattered turned with a grunt, the light glossing over his spectacles to hide those green eyes. A small smile played at the weathered edges of his lips. "Not just a visitor, Spitfire. A royal visitor. And an immigrant, I'd wager." Loki's surprise must have played across his face, as he was treated to Tattered's deep-throated chuckle. "Do not be alarmed, Loki. I can't read minds. I simply see an ornate suit of armor while hearing an aristocratic accent."

Loki approached the chess game in progress, eyebrow perked as he sat his haunches down. "And my immigration status?" he queried coolly. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Tattered's cutie mark: a hammer and anvil. Curious.

Tattered grinned, showing off long, yellow teeth. "That look," he answered, raising a shaking hoof to take in the whole of Loki's face. "That look that tells me everything you see is new to you. Not just my library, but everything else you've seen today. I had that same look when I came here from Stalliongrad."

"Stalliongrad?" Loki's interest was no mere affectation now.

"Jeez, he is new." Spitfire leaned forward, resting her chin on her hoof as she took in the royal immigrant with an amused expression. "Stalliongrad's a nation of Earth ponies, far north of Equestria. Not the happiest place in the world. Tattered here got out after the Steel Wall went up."

"My Steel Wall, Spitfire." Tattered turned to better face Loki, as Spitfire leaned back and closed her eyes. Here we go again, her body language spoke. "Excuse her. She's heard my life story a few too many times, this portion in particular."

"I have not heard it," Loki said. "I wish to learn as much as possible about this realm, so I would like to hear your tale if you wish to tell it."

Tattered looked at Spitfire, who shrugged and gulped down the last of her cider. "You see," Tattered began, "Stalliongrad was a place where a handful of Earth ponies convinced their brethren that they didn't need pegasi to control the weather, or the magic of unicorns.

"A revolution occurred, after which the government deported or 'liquidated' all the non-Earth ponies in its borders. However, we soon found out that life without two-thirds of the pony species is brutally hard. So far north, winters are bitter and exhausting as a rule. Building homes without magic, farming under the whims of random weather; it was all too much. Barely decades after the Revolution, ponies started emigrating in droves to Equestria, Prance, Saddle Arabia – anywhere but Stalliongrad."

"And so," Loki interjected, "your 'Steel Wall' was built to keep them in?" In spite of his usual attempts at seperating himself from involvement with those around him, Loki found himself growing rapt by this strange tale.

"Precisely," Tattered continued, the paternal joviality bleeding from his voice. "Precisely that. I was one of the top architects and metallurgists in Stalliongrad. The general secretary – the pony for whom the nation was named – recruited me to design a way to keep our ponies from leaving. Being young and stupidly patriotic, I accepted.

"My wall went up, and yet the ponies kept trying to leave. The government took more harsh measures to keep them inside. That was when I realized what kind of pony I had worked for. The general secretary was a monster, and I helped him trap millions of ponies in a dying nation." An oppressive silence fell over the library, Tattered's gaze turning back to his chess game. With a sigh, he reached up and knocked his king over, the wooden piece clattering onto the board.

"I apologize if recalling that upset you, Tattered." Loki's horn glowed, raising the king back up to its rightful place.

"No, no." Tattered waved a hoof at Loki, his usual joviality returning with a smile. "I was just probably going to lose this game anyway. No, I've put that behind me. It all happened more than half a century ago, anyway." He uttered a bewildered chuckle, brows furrowing. "By Celestia, has it really been that long?"

"Don't worry, Loki." Spitfire moved one of her pieces across the board, picking up the game where they'd left off. "This story is going to have a happy ending."

Tattered nodded his agreement. "There is a new general secretary. He's rather progressive, and he's had the fortitude to denounce his predecessors as the monsters they were. I've even heard that they might be allowing pegasi and unicorns to return." After a moment's thought, Tattered moved one of his own pieces forward before looking at Loki. "In a week, I'll be returning to my homeland. They'll be needing someone of my experience, as I'm sure they'll have decimated their population trying to keep them in line."

"And the library?" Loki waved a hoof expansively. "Who will take care of the Canterlot Royal Library once you're gone?"

Hoofing his chin thoughtfully, Tattered shrugged his massive shoulders. "I hadn't thought about it, honestly. The position is by appointment of the Princess. I suppose I can recommend a successor. This is a position of high responsibility, however, so I cannot simply give out a recommendation to just anypony."

"Not even a former king?" Loki sat up a bit straighter, raising a hoof to his chest. "My kingdom has its own extensive archives. I know my way around the shelves, so to speak. I have the experience necessary to fulfill the position's requirements."

Tattered exchanged a look with Spitfire, amusement painting his features. "Well, such a pedigree would make you the top contender for the job. But seeing as how, so far as I know, you're the only contender, that's hardly impressive. So, there must be a test."

"A test?" Loki's asked curiously.

"Why 'must' there be a test, Tattered?" Spitfire added, amusement twinkling in her eyes.

"Because I am still the archivist, and I say there must be a test." Tattered Page nodded decisively. Spitfire could only roll her eyes and move another of her pieces. Loki smiled, deciding that he liked Tattered.

"Very well," Loki spoke gamely. "I shall take your test, Tattered Page. When shall we begin?"

"Now." Tattered took one of Spitfire's knights with his own bishops, causing the pegasus to curse softly under her breath. "So, Loki. You say you know your way around the shelves. Let us say that there was a codex in this library containing the favorite recipes of our Princess Celestia. It is obvious that such a codex would be of intense interest to any royal cooks. So, this is the test: tell me where this codex is kept." Shifting one of his rooks in response to an incursion by Spitfire's remaining knight, Tattered turned a smug smile at Loki.

Loki made a show of considering the question, his mind having deciphered the answer in a fraction of the time he allowed himself to appear contemplative. "The restricted section, or similar," he finally answered. He watched as Spitfire sprung her trap and grabbed Tattered's queen with her rook, simultaneously robbing the old pony of his best offense while boxing in his king.

"And why," called a feminine voice behind Loki, "would you guess that such an innocuous document would warrant placement in the restricted files?" Pouring from the shadows, as if forming from the darkness itself, Princess Luna stepped into view. Spitfire jumped to her feet to offer a salute while Tattered slowly rose, bowing his head. Loki also rose, turning to offer his own cordial bow. The dark-furred alicorn smiled, returning their greeting with a nod. Striding forward, she sat beside Loki without hesitation. Even sitting, the princess was nearly half a head taller than he.

Resuming his seated position, Loki cleared his throat. "An assassin might find such a document rather useful. Knowing what foods Princess Celestia enjoys more than others is simply a map directing the placement of poisons and the like. Seeing as how I have recently learned that there are other nations in this realm, some of which might be mad enough to send killers after your rulers, that is where I would put it."

The answer hung between them for a moment before Luna chuckled. "An astute, well-reasoned answer. I would definitely recommend him to my sister, Tattered Page. Now that I have mentioned it, it is on her behalf that I am here." She pressed a hoof to Tattered's shoulder. "My sister and I give you our congratulations. We would like to thank you for more then forty years of service to our nation as its archivist. Celestia wishes she could be here in person, but alas, pressing business has called her away."

Tattered smiled, his eyes shimmering with tears that refused to fall. "Please give her my sincerest thanks. I am sure I would not have made it in Canterlot without her." The elder pony sucked in a shaky breath, letting it out in a long, slow sigh. Reaching down, he knocked his king over once more. "I told you I was going to lose," he spoke with a chuckle.

Spitfire grinned and Luna laughed. Loki merely observed, watching that exchange between ruler and citizen. Turning her dark eyes on Loki, Luna inclined her head toward the chessboard. "Do you play, Loki?" she asked, gaze never once wavering from his magenta eyes.

"I've dabbled in it," Loki responded, voice cool and collected. Once again he felt himself under the close scrutiny of a princess far older and wiser than their youthful visage let on. Her enigmatic nature exuded none of the tell-tale body language cues he used to divine mood and purpose. At the same time, her intense stare bored into him, forcing him to break eye contact and stare at the chessboard.

"Wonderful! I shall play the black pieces!" Like a switch being turned, Luna's excitable nature came to the foreground. She smiled at Tattered, motioning back the way she had come. "Perhaps you should go visit your guests, lest they feel abandoned by their guest of honor."

Tattered grunted, catching himself before he actually cursed in front of Luna. "Begging your pardon, Princess, but most of those ponies out there are not here to see me. Those socialites will find any excuse to come together and fawn over their wealth and clothing."

"That may be true," Luna conceded, "but I have seen a few ponies in the crowd you are known to favor. Hoity Toity and Fancy Pants, along with Photo Finish, if I am not mistaken."

"Oh, have they arrived?" Tattered slowly stood, his back popping audibly. "Well, if they've finally gotten here, perhaps I can suffer another party after all. Loki, I'll send a letter of recommendation to the Princess as quickly as possible. Heavens know, it is not the most favorable of positions to be out of work in a new country." Loki's smile felt about as genuine as it could, the ex-king bowing respectfully to Tattered.

"Don't let them smother you, you old goat." Spitfire grinned and hugged Tattered tight, her wings fluttering behind her.

"Thank you, child." Tattered patted her back gently, pulling from the hug to smile tiredly at Luna "Thanks for making an old pony's day, Princess." Shifting his aged eyes over to Loki, his smile gained a touch of melancholy. "Well, I suppose it's time to go."

He opened his mouth as if to say something more, then simply nodded. Loki returned the gesture with a tilt of his head, watching as the old pony turned to fade into the shadows of his ancient library. Within seconds, he was gone, navigating his aisles in the dim light without hesitation or mistake.

"I said I was going to be the black, correct?" Luna's cheerful voice cut through the silence that had followed Tattered's exit, the princess moving to take his place at the board. Her horn glowed, the pieces sliding this way and that to reset themselves for another game.

"I do believe so, yes." Loki sat down across from Luna, favoring her with a calculating stare. Luna simply smiled back, projecting an air of casual friendliness. Holding his gaze upon her for a few more seconds, he finally looked down at his pieces arranged neatly in front of him. "First move to me, then."

"Careful now." Spitfire took a gulp from her flagon, setting it down and motioning to Luna. "I hear she's wicked good at this game."

"Oh, you flatter me, Spitfire." Luna pressed a hoof to her muzzle and giggled almost girlishly. Loki's ear flickered, eyes narrowing fractionally.

"I shall take it under advisement," Loki conceded, lighting up his horn and moving one of his pawns two spaces forward. Before his spell had even faded away, Luna's aura surrounded one of her own pawns and shoved it forward two spaces as well.

Loki leaned back, creasing his brows and resettling his front hooves. Flicking his eyes up, he caught Luna smiling at him from behind the dark veil of her mane. She looked for all the world like a schoolfilly with a crush; such an attitude did not seem congruent with being a princess, a fact that made Loki set his jaw and avert his gaze.

Picking up his knight, he moved it forward, only to once again have his move mirrored by Luna's own knight as soon as the move had been finished. Forcibly resisting the urge to stamp a hoof, Loki thrust his bishop forward across the board. Luna responded with a unique move for the first time, bringing up another pawn to block the white knight's movement.

The game's pace never lost the breakneck speed set at the beginning, Loki and Luna guiding their armies across the board so quickly that Spitfire swiftly lost track of which pieces were where. In minutes, the game stopped as quickly as if it had hit a brick wall. Loki's king sat protected only by a rook and a pawn, up against Luna's queen, several pawns, her knight and both rooks.

Loki's brow was laced with small beads of sweat, his eyes shifting across his remaining pieces, searching for some way out. After a few seconds, he shook his head, reaching out to push his king over. The piece clattered against the board, its sound like a gunshot in the quiet of the library.

"Wow," Spitfire breathed, looking between the two ponies with awe painted on her face. She smiled at Luna, raising her flagon in a salute. "Did I say 'wicked good'? I think I meant sensational!" Tipping her glass back, she gulped down more of the flavorful drink.

Luna laughed, a sound like music in their dim surroundings. "Thank you, but we should not undersell our guest's skills." Smiling at Loki, Luna inclined her head in a courteous bow. "You played most admirably, Loki. Were you to play any other pony, I am convinced you could win without effort." Luna's horn glowed, picking up Spitfire's goblet and bringing it to her lips. Drinking down the last of the lightly alcoholic beverage, Luna smiled her coy smile. "It is simply a shame you had to go up against somepony who has had quite a lot of time to practice."

"Rematch." Loki breathed, looking up to stare boldly into Luna's eyes. The princess and Spitfire exchanged a glance, Loki's horn lighting up as he reset the board for another game.

"Are you sure that is wise, Loki?" Luna looked over her pawns, neatly rearranged, then back up at her opponent. Her coy, almost flirtatious tone was gone, replaced with a deeper interest. "They say that to do the same thing multiple times while expecting change is the mark of a madpony."

"Many have labeled me one." Loki smiled, his horn glowing as he used the same move as he had during the first game. "Perhaps I am."

Luna sighed softly, countering in the same manner she had before. For the next few moves, it seemed as if their first game was replaying itself before their eyes. It wasn't until Luna moved her bishop to block Loki's knight that he made his first deviation by moving another pawn forward.

The pace of the game slowed as Luna tried to digest the change. Rather than moving immediately, as she so often did, her move took a few seconds to fully coalesce before she finally took the pawn with her own knight. Loki countered blisteringly fast, taking the knight with one of his own pawns. Luna blinked, looking like a deer caught in the light of a gas lamp.

The rest of the game played out in exactly the same fashion, with Loki seeming to fall back on old habits only to pull some surprise move out of nowhere. In the end, as the dust settled, Luna found herself in as precarious a situation as Loki had in their first game. Her king stood behind her queen and a knight, backed into a corner against nearly half of Loki's army. Gone was the friendliness and casual nature of Luna, her jaw set, her eyes flitting across the square spaces in search of any move that might pull her out of this bad situation.

"Perhaps I am mad," Loki spoke, unable to contain the smile creeping across his face. "If I am, then I would like to believe I am mad in the manner of a fox." Luna looked up at him from under the fringe of her mane, that darkened fur twisting slowly in a nonexistent breeze. Her own smile, at one coquettish and enigmatic, mirrored Loki's. Her horn lit up, and she gently lay her king down.

"Mad as a fox, indeed." She spoke, leaning back onto her haunches and gazing down at Loki across the chessboard. Loki returned that gaze without flinching, though he did feel an uncomfortable chill roll down his back. In spite of his uncanny ability to suss out another person's emotions through their body language, Luna could be as much of a rock as her sister.

"Well-played, both of you. Yes, quite, indeed." Spitfire daintily clopped her front hooves together in a parody of the fancy, high society types they were all actively avoiding. Luna laughed softly at the display, Loki merely smiling.

"Perhaps I could interest you in a game, as well?" Loki reset the board, motioning toward Spitfire.

"Now wait a moment here," Luna interjected, twisting the board about so the white army sat under her control. "Who said that I did not also wish for a rematch?" Loki and Spitfire exchanged a glance as Luna made her opening move, sliding one of her knights forward.

Loki responded in kind, as swiftly as had been done to him their first game together. Like a race, the game took off, pieces flying across the board so quickly that Spitfire eventually gave up trying to follow the flow of the game.

"2-1 to me," Luna breathed, a bead of sweat playing at her temple. Loki's king was backed into a corner, surrounded by Luna's forces. Loki narrowed his eyes at the endgame board, his horn glowing as he swiftly reset.

"Again," he challenged, allowing Luna to keep the white pieces and watching her intently for any tells as to what her first move might be. She grinned, coyness dancing in her eyes as she thrust a pawn forward and the game began anew. Their fourth game was the quickest yet, and by the end of the the score stood at 2-2. Luna's king was surrounded by a fair amount of guardians, but unable to move any which way.

"It seems we are too evenly matched, you and I." Loki pondered, his gaze locked upon the dark-coated mare sitting across from him. His magenta eyes searched her face. In spite of his best efforts, all he could gain from Luna was yet another playful smile. Despite this, something still niggled at the back of his mind, a certainty that there was far more to this princess than she let on.

"It seems so. An incredible show, Loki," Luna conceded, standing and flaring her wings out in a stretch. She bent her body back, stretching her neck out with a small sigh. "I am most impressed. However, the hours wait for no pony, princess or common mare. I am afraid I have other duties that currently require my attention." Luna shifted her gaze to Spitfire, smiling as the flame-colored pegasus drew herself up to attention. "Speaking of incredible shows," she continued, "I am quite looking forward to witnessing the Wonderbolts perform tomorrow."

"We're very grateful for your presence, princess." Spitfire reached up to straighten out her spiked mane, her wings fluttering at her side. "It's a shame Celestia isn't able to attend, but I'm sure the audience will still love having you in the VIP box."

"I am sure they will," Luna replied, inclining her head towards Spitfire. In the fraction of a second as she straightened up, Loki saw a flash of emotion cross Luna's face. Instantly his complex mind took a mental snapshot of everything about that moment in time. Quick as it had come, that glimmer passed, and Luna was once again friendly and unassuming. With one final bow to her guests, she put them to her back to begin the long trek through the maze of bookshelves.

"Princess Luna." Loki took a step forward, moving around the chessboard to follow in the retreating alicorn's wake. He stopped as she turned, magenta eye piercing the dusky light into which Luna had now faded, her deep violet form melding with the darkness. "I am moving to Canterlot soon. Less than a fortnight if I am lucky." Loki smiled his best charming smile. "Perhaps we shall meet again?"

The darkness seemed to consume Luna, leaving nothing but one brilliant blue eye as an island in an inky sea. The seconds dragged on before a grin grew wide, her cheshire-like smile shockingly white amidst the darkness.

"In your dreams," she whispered cryptically. Flowing together into a morass of darkly reflective mist, her body swirled outward to slip between bookshelves and fade into the distance. A few loose pages from some ancient codices fluttered in the open space, the only evidence of her passing.

"Wow," Spitfire breathed, a throaty chuckle following. "Talk about dramatic."

"Indeed." A smile tugged at Loki's face, his magenta eyes tracing over the space once occupied by the Princess of the Night. His mind recalled that instant but moments ago, that flicker of emotion. Gesturing to Spitfire, he began the winding trek back outside. "So, you are a member of the Wonderbolts. I have heard a great deal about you." A small part of his mind continued to pore over that mental snapshot of Luna's face, trying to discern precisely what she had felt in that fraction of a second.

"Actually, I'm their captain," Spitfire corrected, falling in beside Loki. "And I don't think I'll need more than one guess to figure out who told you so much about us."

"Other than herself, you and your team are all Rainbow Dash seems to talk about." Loki snorted, a sound between a chuckle and an actual laugh. His stride through the bookcases was straight and true, his unerring memory guiding them toward daylight with his usual godly precision.

Spitfire shook her head, smiling good-naturedly and rolling her eyes. "Yeah, we get that a lot," she sighed, wincing as they moved out into the foyer, the blinding sunlight greeting them. "Rainbow Dash is on another level, though. She's 'fanmare' personified."

"I suppose," Loki wondered aloud, stepping out of the library and back into the party, "the question then becomes: why is Rainbow Dash but a fan and not a member of your illustrious troupe?" He tilted his head toward Spitfire, speaking in a conspiratorial manner. "At my welcoming party she expressed her dream of one day becoming a Wonderbolt herself."

Spitfire smiled wanly, waving a hoof dismissively. "It's no secret, Loki. We get an application from her during every open admission. Sometimes we get several from her at once." She shook her head, sighing. The two of them moved back into the party, Loki's commanding presence and Spitfire's fame working to part the crowd before them.

"The truth is," Spitfire continued, sidling up to the buffet and ladling up some punch, "Rainbow Dash just doesn't have what our group is looking for in a member." She gulped down her punch in one swift pull, setting it down with a satisfied smile.

Loki served himself some of the flavorful liquid, floating his cup up to take a tentative sip. "I am not sure I quite understand," he continued, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "Rainbow Dash exhibited exemplary speed and prowess when she had to take Fluttershy to the hospital."

"She's a great flyer," Spitfire conceded, raising a hoof with an explanatory air. "However, being great at flying is not all there is to being a Wonderbolt."

Loki's eyebrows knitted subtly, his neck craning forward. "You will have to excuse my ignorance, Spitfire. I cannot see what it is bad about Rainbow Dash that would make you hesitant to admit her."

"She's..." For a few seconds, Spitfire twisted her forehoof in a slow circle, opening and closing her mouth a few times as she searched for the proper words. With a soft groan, she closed her eyes. "She's arrogant," she admitted, "headstrong, only thinks about herself, and is way too confident in her own skills.

"When you're a Wonderbolt, you're not just flying for yourself." Spitfire's voice took on a serious tone far removed from her usual calm, removed persona. "You're flying for the ponies beside you. Each one of us knows that they're only as important as the pony next to them. There's no room for showboating; our formations are so tight and intricate that if somepony tries to deviate in order to show off, one or more of us could be hurt."

She pressed a hoof to her chest. "I'm only the captain because I've been there longer than everypony else. And even though I am the captain, I know that I'm nothing without Soarin and the rest." Spitfire shook her head, ladling up some more punch and taking a long, slow drink. Setting her cup down, she continued.

"Rainbow Dash just isn't what we look for, Loki. Besides the safety of my members, I have to think about Equestria." She looked up from her punch, her warm face heavy with responsibility. "Princess Celestia sometimes sends us out to deal with potential threats. That requires strategy and coordination, skills that I think are a bit beyond Rainbow."

Loki took a contemplative sip from his punch cup, Spitfire's impassioned speech sinking in between them. Setting his cup down, he floated over a small bite of cake, nibbling at it and casting his eyes out across the party. Spitfire pulled over a small plate of oats across the large table, digging into the nibbles with gusto.

"Perhaps," Loki spoke at length, "you are correct about Rainbow Dash. I must admit, she does strike me as possessing most of the qualities you described." Setting his cup down, he took a step closer, leaning in to speak in that same low, secret tone. "Speaking from experience, I can tell you that you should not let such a raw talent escape you simply because of some personality flaws."

Spitfire cocked an eyebrow, her face screwing up in apprehension. "'Experience'? So you were ignorant but now you're experienced?"

"I may not be experienced in matters Wonderbolt. I am, however, well-versed in matter military. I was a king, you know; I commanded an entire army, part of which consisted of a pegasi legion." The lies rolled off Loki's tongue as easily as water down roiling falls. "There is nothing wrong with Rainbow Dash that cannot be beaten out with a rigorous training regimen."

Spitfire's voice dripped with skepticism. "What's it to you, anyway?" She flashed a cheeky grin, elbowing Loki in his chest. "You tryin' to score some points there, Loki? I can tell you, I don't think Rainbow Dash is interested in—"

"Nothing of the sort," Loki interrupted shortly, fighting down the urge to freeze the pegasus' wings off. "If I must be honest, the Elements of Harmony are not quite so harmonious in their opinions of me. Rainbow Dash has only just met me, and already she has defended me in front of her friends." Loki offered a small shrug, taking another sip of his punch. "I simply wish to do what little I can to repay such loyalty."

Spitfire's face softened fractionally, and she took a thoughtful sip from her own cup. "That's all good and noble of you, Loki," she spoke slowly, picking her words with care. "But it doesn't change anything about Rainbow. She's still not Wonderbolt material, and I'm going to need more than somepony's good will to change my mind."

"All right," Loki retorted, "how about a king's official endorsement and sponsorship? Would that suffice?" Spitfire nearly choked on her punch, coughing softly and looking up at Loki. Shock and a growing amount of respect painted her features, tugging a small smile to Loki's mouth.

"Wow," she breathed, straightening up and regaining her composure. "You really believe in her, don't you?"

"I do."

"You better be careful, Loki." Spitfire leaned in, her voice lowered so as not to carry to the rest of the party. "If she screws up, it'll be on you. If you're moving up here to be the archivist, you need to know that your reputation is all you have around here. It'd be social suicide to sponsor someone who flunks out of the Wonderbolts."

Loki smirked, the memory of his painful imprisonment rising to his mind. "I believe I can handle the consequences, Spitfire. However, there will be no need to prepare for the worst. I have utter confidence in Rainbow Dash's skills."

"Obviously," Spitfire chuckled, shaking her head and shrugging. "Well, it's your funeral, Loki. Congratulations, she's got a shot at our next open admission." Spreading her wings, she turned and prepared to take off. "I'll go draw up a letter for her."

Loki reached out and pressed a hoof to her shoulder. "No need to abandon the party, Spitfire." A grin spread across his face, ear to ear in a manner that Spitfire found oddly unsettling. "Besides, this is news that I would enjoy delivering personally."

Spitfire forced a light-hearted smirk. "Yeah, all right. I can see why you'd want to." She reseated her wings against her body, looking absently at what remained of her plate of nibbles.

"Loki!" Across the party, Twilight Sparkle's voice cut through the low murmur like a nerdy knife through butter. Squeezing in between the small knots of ponies, Celestia's student brought herself before her new friend and the captain of the Wonderbolts. "Hi, Spitfire," she said, mild confusion lacing her voice. "I didn't know you knew Tattered."

"Yeah, I know I don't come off as the 'bookish' type," Spitfire chuckled. "But the old goat helped me find some choice books on aerodynamics back when I was just starting out. Figured it'd only be right for me to come and see him off into retirement."

Twilight smiled and nodded. "Yeah, that'd be the right thing to do. I managed to say happy retirement before he got smothered by a bunch of well-dressed ponies." Facing Loki, she beamed up at him. "So what do you think of Canterlot, huh, Loki?" Her growing grin barely contained the hometown pride just waiting to gush forth.

Gathering his wits, Loki looked out amongst the crowd of self-satisfied socialites and inbred dignitaries. "I must say," he spoke after a pause, "there is never a dull moment in this city."

Twilight laughed heartily. "Wow, if that's what you think of Canterlot," she giggled, wiping a tear from her eye, "just wait until you've been in Ponyville for a week. That place is crazy. But in a good way." She fixed Spitfire with a teasing smile, reaching out to wrap a foreleg around Loki's neck. "Hey, Spitfire, do you mind if I borrow your special somepony for a while? I've still got to show him the sights."

"Special somepony?" Loki questioned, his mystified look almost comical.

Spitfire chuckled, winking at the two of them. "Yeah, sure. Just make sure he's home by midnight."

"What is a special somepony?" Loki asked again as he was pulled away from the party. The mind-numbingly bland music and even worse conversation faded into the distance. For once in his life, Loki was glad he wasn't the poor sod being fawned over.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just a little joke." Twilight waved a dismissive hoof at Loki, trotting back onto the winding streets of Canterlot. Loki fell in beside her, his eyes scanning over the various shops, restaurants, and carts lining the streets.

"So, Loki," Twilight asked, turning down Starswirl Lane toward her favorite knick-knack store. "What did you do while I was gone?"

"You did what?" Rarity's jaw dropped open, her eyes so wide they seemed on the verge of popping from her skull.

"Omigosh omigosh omigosh omigosh omigosh!" Rainbow Dash chanted excitedly, flitting here and there above the gathered ponies in excited loops.

Standing just a few paces from the Ponyville Train station, Loki tried not to appear too self-satisfied. "It is as I said, Rarity," he replied, looking up at Rainbow Dash with a grin. "Your letter of acceptance will most likely be arriving by mail shortly."

Rainbow Dash let out what could only be described as a squee of excitement, swooping down to grab Loki up in a bone-crushing hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! Oh, you've got no idea how awesome this is! I've always dreamed of being in the Wonderbolts, and now this is my chance!"

"I am happy for you," Loki managed to choke out through Rainbow's vice-like grip. Pulling away, he brushed himself off and smiled at Rarity. "As I am for you, Rarity. Such a large order for the esteemed Hoity Toity is most assuredly a prominent feather in your cap."

Rarity almost danced in place, gazing at the rest of the Elements of Harmony in excitement. "Oh, you've no idea, Loki," she exclaimed, turning back to her strange benefactor. "A dozen ensembles for Hoity Toity's illustrious Prench Gala! Oh, this will send my styles to the heights of haute couture" Giving in to temptation, Rarity jumped up and down, letting out an excited and quite unladylike giggle of joy.

Fluttershy and Applejack exchanged a glance as Pinkie Pie zoomed out to grab Rarity in a big, congratulatory hug. The two of them stole a look at Loki, standing next to Twilight and looking as impenetrable as ever. Applejack looked back to see Fluttershy flying up, embracing Rainbow Dash and telling her how happy she was for her.

"Girls!" Applejack shouted, her hat almost flying off her head with the force of her exclamation. "I wanna have a word with y'all. Elements of Harmony only, if y'all don't mind." Walking some distance away from Loki, Applejack waited until all her friends had formed a small semicircle around her before speaking again.

"Girls, doesn't this strike y'all as bein' a bit too much of a good thing?" Applejack looked across the faces of her friends, trying her best to gauge their reactions. Unsurprisingly, she felt the expected scorn and reproach coming from Rarity and Rainbow. "I mean, even if he is tellin' the truth, those Avengers could be comin' to get him. If I were him, I'd be trying to buddy-up with whoever I could put between me and them."

"Pish-posh!" Rarity snorted, bringing a dainty hoof down. "Loki is only trying to repay the kindness and generosity we have shown him."

"Yeah, Applejack!" Rainbow took flight and hovered in front of her friend, hooves pressed to her hips. "Loki got me into the Wonderbolts, Applejack! He put his entire rep on the line for me. He's on the level as far as I'm concerned, and I don't wanna hear another bad thing about him!"

"Applejack," Pinkie whined cutely, sidling up to her friend and draping her forelimb around her neck. "Why ya gotta be such a party pooper? Besides, how could somepony really bad do so many nice things?" Pinkie grinned wide, her eyes sparkling with the self-evident truth of her own arguments.

"Tarnation, it's like I'm talkin' to a brick wall!" Applejack shrugged off her friend's embrace, turning to Fluttershy with a desperate edge to her voice. "You'll back me up here, won't you, Fluttershy? You've had the same bad feelin' about Loki since he got here, right?"

All of sudden Fluttershy found herself assaulted by five pairs of expectant eyes. Squirming under the combined gaze of her friends, Fluttershy fought through a storm of stutters to try and articulate herself. "Well," she began, "he did look like a monster when he, um, first got here. But..." She looked up at Rarity and Rainbow, worrying on her bottom lip. "Oh, I don't want to upset anybody. I'm so happy for both of you! And, well, Loki has done some very nice things. He could be a good pony."

Applejack groaned low in her throat, pulling her hat down over her eyes. Rainbow and Rarity both happily hugged their pegasus friend, while Twilight stole over to Applejack's side. "Don't worry, Applejack," she spoke consolingly. "Loki's moving to Canterlot soon. If he really is a bad pony, he won't dare try anything in Celestia's home."

"Loki's moving?" Pinkie Pie squeaked out, her smile threatening to wrap around her head. "Wowee-wow-wow! I'm gonna have to throw a party for Rarity's order, a party for Rainbow's try-outs, a party for Loki's new job, and a goodbye party for Loki! It's gonna be a q-q-quadruple party!" Pinkie hopped up into the air, sparks and streamers exploding behind her from who-knew-where. Landing, she busily conversed with her friends on party ideas, invitations, song choices, and any other happy thing that popped into her mind.

Applejack stood apart from the happy party planning, her ears lowered and her green eyes flitting from one face to the next. A deep, roiling discontent nagged at her stomach, like something wild and living moving around inside her. The whole moment seemed unreal, as if she were moving through a fog inside a dream.

Dragging her eyes away from the happy scene, she glanced across the field to spy Loki, standing exactly where they had left him. He wore a grin wide and deep, showing off straight, pearly white teeth. A shiver of unease traveled down Applejack's back, slinking down to take root in her stomach as the first fires of anger. For a second, all she wanted was to run over and buck that stupid grin right off his skinny face.

Feeling something tugging at the fetlocks of one of her hooves, she raised it up without thinking. Looking down, she saw that she had dug a perfect furrow in the ground without even noticing, mud caked around her hoof all the way up to her ankle.

Loki's smile grew deeper.

"Applejack?"

"Hm?" Applejack looked off to the side, her green eyes glazed and unfocused.

"I think that dish is done cleaned. Ya been washin' on it fer darn near five minutes, sweetie." Granny Smith leaned into the wash basin, plucking the dish from Applejack's hooves and setting it into the draining frame.

"Oh," Applejack breathed absently, picking up a cup and dipping it into the sudsy water. "Sorry."

"Are you all right, hun?" Granny Smith's wizened eyes looked up at her granddaughter worriedly. She pushed her aging body up to rest her forelimbs on the counter's edge. "Ya been absent all night since ya got home. Somethin' botherin' you?"

"I don't know, Granny Smith," Applejack set the glass down on the bottom of the basin, staring out the window just above the sink. Outside, the dark evening sky had faded from a dull purple to a deep black, stars twinkling weakly underneath a half-full moon.

"I think ya do, sweetheart." Granny Smith smiled, nudging Applejack's side. "Don't keep it bottled inside or it'll ferment and just blow up. Now you tell your Granny Smith what's eatin' at you."

Applejack's shoulders sagged, her head tilting forward as her neck went limp. A few stray locks of her mane curled around her face, adding to her disheveled, haggard appearance. "It's this Loki character, Granny Smith. I just can't shake the feelin' he's no good."

"Loki?" Granny Smith tilted her head, reaching up to adjust her bifocals. "Y'mean that nice feller that got yer friends into the Wonderbolts?"

"It was just Rainbow Dash, Granny Smith," Applejack corrected with a sigh, picking up the cup and setting it into the drainer. She took a plate and bit down on her wire brush, scraping at the remains of dinner for a few seconds before continuing. "It was a nice thing to do, yeah, but I still can't help but get this terrible feelin' when I look at him."

"Terrible feelin'?" Granny Smith's eyes narrowed with intrigue. "Terrible like what, exactly?"

Applejack sighed with exhasperation, the wire brush falling into the sink. "I don't know, Granny Smith." She stared out of the window for a time, the frame open slightly to let in the sounds of the late-evening crickets. "I just get this feelin' like he's gonna bring down a whole world'a trouble on us."

The fires of the forge licked at Thor's body as he pulled the gigantic container from its bellowing body. The sweltering room of the Asgardian ironworks lay deep underground, barely lit by several guttering torches and the light from its titanic firepit. Anvils, molds, and other metalworking tools of great and small stature lay scattered about on aged worktables and hanging from hooks across the walls.

His muscles strained as he lifted the mighty bowl, its contents glowing red hot and sparking as he carried it through the heat-choked room. His hammer swung at his side, its surface blackened from hours of gruelling work.

It was only several paces to his destination, yet with the immense weight atop his shoulders each step felt like ten. Finally he gazed down at the equally massive depression. Its form was perfectly curved to give form to one part of the spherical shape of the Bifrost. With a grunt, he tilted the liquid metal into the mold, his skin pitted and scarred as bits of metal popped out to sear themselves against him.

Tossing the container away, he gripped the shaft of Mjolnir and pulled it off his belt. Thor took only a moment to gaze at its smudged, tainted form before he raised it above his head. Clouds formed against the tall ceiling, lightning crackling and booming through the close, dusty air. A single bolt, thick and powerful, slammed down into his hammer, infusing him with that familiar power.

Yelling out his frustrations, he slammed Mjolnir down against that cooling metal. Magical sparks and arcs of lightning scattered everywhere. A thick spiderweb of light crawled across the surface of the newly-formed wall, resembling nothing so much as a circuit board a mortal might use in one of his cogitation machines. Raising his hammer, Thor struck again and the web of conduits grew farther, faster, and more complex.

Thor had no concept of how long he stood there, beating the intricate spells of technology and magic into that wall. For all he knew he had been down in the forge for days or even weeks. Several complete pieces of the Bifrost leaned against a far wall, their bare forms ready to be embossed with the golden lacquer so popular with his people.

"My lord!" Thor turned as a voice called from the entrance. A guard stood underneath the archway, his hair mussed and his helmet askew. The guard smiled, motioning behind him and up the staircase. "My lord, we've done it."

"Excellent," Thor spoke without mirth, his voice hoarse and thin. "Go. Tell them I shall be up soon." The guard nodded and fled the way he had came, his footsteps fading up the staircase until the only sound remaining was the low, constant rumbling of the forge.

Hefting his hammer, Thor gazed at its intricate workings, his eyes tired and hard to focus. "I shall be up soon," he repeated, raising the hammer above his shoulder and glaring down at the metalwork below him. "I shall be up to warn my friends." The forge rang out with the sound of lightning and thunder as he hammered that wall into place, each impact bringing to light the single-minded purpose in his eyes.

An Unexpected Arrival, Part 1

Rainbow Dash's stomach was warm as she lay back on her personal cloud. Her chest rose and fell slowly in the depths of her nap. She was always a deep sleeper; it often took a thunderstorm of some kind to get her to wake up. Perhaps that was why she was always late when there was a downpour needed somewhere.

When a strange cloud appeared above Cloudsdale, its crackling thunder made her roll over and pull some her cloud into her ears. "Too early," she muttered with her eyes half-closed. "We don't got a thunderstorm 'til tomorrow..."

"Rainbow Dash!" Ditzy Doo popped right up into her field of vision.

"Derpy!" She jumped, her heart nearly climbing out of her chest. Her wings frazzled and her mane a mess, she gently punched her friend in the shoulder. "You know you don't wake me when I'm napping unless it's important!"

"Sorry! My bad." Derpy grinned sheepishly and pointed over Rainbow Dash's shoulder. "I just thought a big black rainbow cloud hanging over Cloudsdale was important."

"Huh?" Rainbow Dash screwed up her face in confusion. Turning, she gazed up toward the object Ditzy had mentioned.

"Oh. My. Gosh." Rainbow's jaw fell open. Memories from months ago flooded her brain.

Tony Stark was swimming. The water around him was dark, dark as the bottom of the glass he'd almost died in more than a year ago. He tried to reach through the water only to find his limbs heavy and obstinate. The water was like molasses, thick and rich and clinging to every part of himself. Off in the distance he heard something akin to the braying of a brass instrument from the end of a long tunnel. For some reason he started craving peanuts.

The water ebbed away. It turned into mist and peeled back from his vision, letting in a corona of painful light. His arms deigned to work and he lifted one to shield his eyes. Something inside his brain sensed motion around him. It was quick and light, like a flock of deer scattering before a hunter.

"Hell did I drink last night?" His mouth barely wrapped around the words. With aching muscles and stiff joints he lifted himself and his suit into a sitting position. His eyes finally adjusted to the light and he could see his HUD flashing several warning icons. Bruised ribs, possible internal injuries. Eh, he'd walk it off.

"Visual display," he commanded. The darkness past his HUD fizzled and popped and jumped to life. He was assaulted by a technicolor vision framed by blinding white. A large semicircle of winged, colorful horses stood around Stark, gawping at him. The building was made of some white, fluffy material that didn't look like it could hold up a pillow.

Tony looked down. He sat on some of the same material and it felt as hard underneath him as any pavement or wood he'd seen. He slapped his fist against it a few times, an action that rewarded him with some frightened gasps from the onlookers and puffs of more white material from the floor.

"Clouds," he said again. His memory kicked on like a back-up reactor. The plan they'd formed, the uninvited guest, and the way he'd fouled up things beyond all recognition. The images and sounds hit Tony all at once; they brought with them a sense of urgency. He moved to stand up and found his legs had taken on the consistency of gelatin.

"Jarvis," he grunted as he stood on uneasy feet. "Jarvis. Come on, buddy, nap time's over." The ponies around him scattered with screams in their throats as the strange, metal monster came to its feet before them. Its voice was rasping and soulless. Tony tapped a finger against his ear panel. The HUD shifted around and Tony found the problem: his remote connection was nonexistent. He banged his palm against his forehead before he flipped open a panel on his right arm, pressing several numbered keys in an exact sequence.

"Computer, activate Remote Jarvis." Tony slid the panel closed and looked up. He stared out at patches of brightly colored horses that hid behind crates, barrels, and gigantic containers. They stared at him with too-big eyes, frozen in a mixture of fear and curiosity.

"You." Tony pointed to a larger pony, some brick-headed looking thug wearing a hardhat that pushed his mane down into his eyes. "I've got one very important question: Where the hell am I?" He reached up and rubbed his throat plate. "Okay, two questions: where the hell am I and do you have a bar around here?"

The pony gawped at him, then looked around at the others. "You're in Equestria," it finally stammered in a masculine voice. "And there's no bar around here. This is a work zone; safety first." Tony sighed. Of course he had to land in a dry area that sounded like it was named by a seven-year-old girl.

"Good morning, sir." Jarvis' dry yet cheery voice lightened Tony's mood somewhat. "I am online and all systems are nominal. Currently pinpointing polar north and getting our bearings."

"Good, good." Tony looked down at himself and grimaced. He wiped some of the rainbow gunk from his chest and shook it off with annoyance. "See if you can find a car wash somewh – "

A flash of something multicolored tore through the air in front of him. The ponies gasped and cheered as a blue-furred pony with a multi-colored mane swooped in through the hole Tony had made in the roof. Her wings beating imperiously, she rocketed down to land with a floor-vibrating thud. She pulled her head back, glaring up at Tony with strange, violet-red eyes.

"Man," Tony said. "And I used to think evolution made sense." His hollow, mechanical voice made the ponies jump once more. The only pony that seemed to show no fear was the rainbow-colored one staring up at him. Wait, Tony thought to himself. Isn't a horse with wings called a pegasus?

"Sir." Jarvis' voice rung through Tony's ears. A small map appeared in his HUD, showing a tentative layout of the surrounding area. "I have located polar north. We appear to be in a floating city of some sort. I have also located what I believe to be several population centers nearby." The relevant information lit up in small red squares across the map.

"Perfect." Tony used his eye movements to expand the map. "That still doesn't tell us where Loki is."

"Loki?" Rainbow pony finally spoke, her voice rife with confusion and suspicion. "What do you want with Loki?"

Tony tilted his head in mild surprise. "Are we talking about the same Loki here?" He held his hand out to the side, indicating a person a few inches taller than he. "About this tall, wears a horned helmet and smells of failure and shame?"

Rainbow pony frowned. She fluffed her wings and flapped them indignantly. "Hey, hey, hey! Don't talk about my friend like that!" She floated up to look at Tony right through his tiny eye slits. "Who do you think you are, barging into Cloudsdale and insulting my friend?"

"Easy, Reading Rainbow." Tony held his hands up in mock surrender. "First, he's not really your friend. Second, Cloudsdale? Really?" He shook his head, a chuckle rumbling through his chest. "Equestria? Cloudsdale? What's next, a place called Manehatten?"

"How do you know about Manehatten?" Rainbow pony backed off in surprise as a murmur traveled through the gathered ponies.

Tony planted a hand on his forehead with a metallic clink. "I should've known." He looked around at the pegasi around him. His voice modulated a few decibels higher to reach them all. "Look, I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Er, hoof. My name is Tony Stark, and I'm here to – "

"Wait a second," Rainbow gasped. She raised an accusatory hoof at Tony. "Tony Stark? The Tony Stark? One of those Avengers?"

Tony blinked. "Wait, how do you know about us?" His genius-level intellect often worked slower than his mouth, and it was only a split-second later that the other shoe dropped. Tony held his hands up and leaned back on one foot, bracing himself. "Woah, woah, I don't know what Loki's told you, but we're not – "

No sooner had the words left Tony's mouth than Rainbow crouched low. She sprang forward, wings fanning out to their full glory and pushing down heavily. She slammed into Tony and carried him through the window behind him. A dangerous corona of glass fell on Equestria, through which tumbled human and pegasus.

Rainbow beat her hoof against Tony's head again and again, ringing out with a merry, metallic report as she clung to Tony's back. In barely three hits she'd worked a sizable dent into the side of his head. Red warnings flashed in Tony's vision. He reached up behind him, sinking his fingers into Rainbow's mane. "Get off!" he roared as he threw the pegasus over his head. Rainbow fell end-over-end through the air, her wings flapping erratically.

Tony thrust his hands downward and turned his repulsors on full. The air squealed in protest as he flew up to greet his new enemy.

"You really are adept at making new friends, sir," Jarvis quipped. Tony shook his head, a memory of his first meeting with Thor flashing in his mind.

Rainbow righted herself with a shout. She spread her wings and angled herself in a long arc that sent her up into the sky above Tony. She turned to level herself with the horizon and dove downward, arms outstretched in another tackle.

"Stop!" Tony yelled, holding up a hand and blasting a warning repulsor shot just inches to Rainbow's right. "Whatever Loki's told you probably isn't true!"

The repulsor shot singed Rainbow's blue fur on her right side, a burning pain shooting down her flanks. The feathers on her right wing turned a dull grey. Shock gripped her breast and tore a yelp of pain from her throat. Beating her wings furiously, she eventually slowed down enough to hover a few feet in front of Stark.

"Don't you call Loki a liar." Rainbow snorted.

"That's like not calling the ocean wet, Pride Parade." Tony reached up with one hand and slid his fingers through the small dent in his helmet. "Damn, you've got a mean punch. This is a gold-titanium alloy."

Rainbow grinned and crossed her forelimbs over her chest. "Darn right! And don't you forget it! I'll dent every inch of you before I let you get to Loki." She flapped her wings fiercely, pushing forward to get nose-to-faceplate with Tony. "He saved Fluttershy and got me a chance with the Wonderbolts. There's no way he could be a liar!"

"You sure about that, Reading Rainbow?" He reached out and shoved the pony away, blasting his repulsors downward to gain some distance. "I've got some stories about a place called New York that'd curl your feathers." Memories flooded back at the mere mention of the invasion. He was glad his suit hid the shiver that crawled down his spine.

Rainbow frowned petulantly. "Loki's my friend! I'm not going to betray him because of a bunch of made-up stories." She flew close again, beating her hoof against Tony's breastplate. "And what's wrong with being well-read? That doesn't make me an egghead!"

"Well, I tried," Tony whispered. He threw his hand out, backhanding Rainbow across her face. She whipped around and flew back, beating her wings to right herself. Stark didn't give her the chance; he threw his hand forward and let loose a repulsor blast, catching the pegasus right in the chest.

Rainbow's fur curled black and she let out a scream as the force of that blast knocked the wind from her. Her skin turned and ugly shade of red just before the strike dissipated. Dash's eyes rolled up and her body went limp. She hung in limbo for half a second before gravity took over, sucking her down towards Equestria.

Tony grabbed the pegasus up by her mane and out of her death dive. He clucked his tongue with a shake of his head. "Lesson zero: don't step outside of your weight division." Tony cast his gaze across the skies. He wasn't going to be carrying this dead weight all day.

"There we go." A small cloud floated by several yards away. It was a simple matter to fly over. When he'd stopped nearby, he dropped Rainbow onto the cloud's fluffy body. It puffed out at her added weight but otherwise remained strong.

"Jarvis." Tony reached up and tapped the side of his helmet. "What's the probability that Minas Tirith over there is the capital of this place?" Tony looked in what he assumed to be a northerly direction, toward the gleaming city of Canterlot. It shone like a bright star in the midday sun, its towers turned a light shade of blue with distance.

"Roughly eighty-four percent, sir," Jarvis responded.

"And what's the probability that Loki would set himself up as close to the ruling class as possible?"

"Sixty-five-point-five percent, sir."

"Good enough for government work." Tony leaned forward and turned his repulsors on high, streaking across the Equestrian sky in a straight course for Canterlot.

"I told you, Rarity: I ain't wearin' it!" Applejack huffed as she looked down at the green-and-gold monstrosity her best friend had laid on her table.

"But Applejack," Rarity whined. "I made this outfit especially for you! I even sewed an apple on the helmet." She pushed the ensemble back towards her friend. "It's not the biggest hit in Canterlot for nothing, you know."

"C'mon, sis," Apple Bloom said as she hopped up onto the table. She picked up the big cloth helmet and slipped it onto her head. "I think it looks pos'tively ravishin'!"

Applejack groaned and pulled the helmet off her sister's head. "You don't even know what 'ravishing' means, Apple Bloom." She turned her attention to Rarity, ignoring her pout. "I'm sorry, Rarity, but I just don't feel comfortable wearin' anything that looks like what he wears."

Thunder boomed outside with a suddenness that cut off all conversation. In the corner, Granny Smith barely stirred in her rocking chair. Rarity, Apple Bloom, and Applejack all looked at each other in confusion.

"Hey, Big Mac!" Applejack called into the other room. The big red stallion walked into view.

"Eeyup?"

"Ain't we supposed to get that thunderstorm tomorrow?"

"Eeyup."

The four of them looked at each other before approaching one of the large windows in their den. The Apple Family farm rolled away in all directions, a sea of green and red that swelled AJ's heart with pride. The comfort of her family farm only made the image of the roiling, black, glowing cloud above their plot seem all the more large and ominous. It leaked rainbow light and crackled with lightning.

"Holy horse apples! What in the hay is that?" Applejack's eyes seemed big as dinner plates.

The cloud sparked and buzzed before letting off a coherent cylinder of light. Something small and blue tumbled through the light, crashing into the Apple Family's southern plot with an audible snapping of branches.

"Discord's back!" Apple Bloom blurted out, her eyes wide with a mixture of excitement and fear. Her snout was quickly scrunched with her big sister's hoof.

"Don't even say such a thing, Apple Bloom!" Applejack's voice was harsher than she intended. The mere thought of that trickster free of his bonds was like a pail of cold water poured over her soul. "Whatever it is, though, we'd better check it out." She looked to her friend Rarity, her face betraying no trepidation in front of her younger sibling.

"Yes," Rarity responded, her voice quavering in spite of the brave face she'd put on. "We are the Elements of Harmony, after all."

"I'm comin', too!" Apple Bloom piped up.

"Oh no, you don't." Applejack turned and pushed her little sister away from the window. "You're stayin' right here with Granny Smith, and that's final."

"Aww." Apple Bloom hunched over, her bow drooping in sympathy with her dashed hopes.

AJ shoved a hoof at her brother "Big Mac, you're with us." Turning her face to the ceiling and pressing her bottom lip between her teeth, Applejack let out a harsh whistle that made both her brother and Rarity wince. From upstairs came the sound of scraping claws and a happy, loyal bark. Within seconds, the small, brown, furry form of Winona the dog came scurrying down the stairs.

"Winona," AJ spoke decisively as her companion came to sit before her, "I need you to stay here and guard Granny and Apple Bloom. Can ya do that, girl?" Winona barked her compliance, her tail wagging eagerly behind her. Applejack smiled and gave her pet a soft pat on the head, eliciting another happy bark from Winona.

"All right, ponies, let's move'em out." Applejack's voice was stony and unwavering, masking her nervousness perfectly. She headed out the front door, Rarity and Big Mac in tow. The screen door banged closed before squeaking open again as Apple Bloom and Winona walked out onto the porch, watching their family and friends rush off towards the southern fields.

Under a canopy of thick leaves, Steve Rogers staggered to his feet and took stock of himself. No broken bones. Good, he thought to himself. That's the last thing I need. The comforting weight of his shield pressed against his back and he smiled. The black shape of his Colt pistol lay some feet away and he moved to collect it, checking its casing and the magazine for any damage.

Once he was satisfied, he reached up and pressed a finger to his helmet. "Anyone on this frequency, this is Steve Rogers. Over." Static once again greeted him. "Repeat: this is Steve Rogers, alone in unknown territory. Requesting immediate rendezvous on my comms position. Over." He pulled his hand away and listened for a solid five seconds. Nothing but the warm fuzz of interference rang in his ear.

Steve craned his head to cast his blue gaze through the dense foliage of the farm around him. Atop a hill in the distance he could barely make out the shape of a farm house and barn. He squinted, raising a hand up to cover his eyes. The farm house came into better view and yet he still couldn't tell if there was anyone around.

"Better than nothing," he mused aloud. Keeping his pistol pointed low, he took off for the farm house.

Applejack and Rarity stared at this gaudy, tall, alien newcomer with equal parts fascination and horror etched into their faces; Big Macintosh simply glared, his eyes pulled down into slits.

"What is it?" Rarity's voice barely rose to a whisper, as if she were afraid any sound might alert the monster.

"Dangerous-lookin'." Applejack moved around the tree to keep the bipedal invader in her sights. "And it's movin' towards the house."

"Nope." Big Mac snorted and made to leave the safety of the tree. Applejack hissed in a breath and lashed out, biting her big brother's ear and yanking him back.

"Big Mac, y'dern fool!" Applejack whispered and slapped Big Macintosh along the back of his head, her freckled snout scrunched in disapproval.

"Y'all don't even remember, do ya?" Big Macintosh looked at the two mares. "Loki talked about this monster – something red white and blue."

"Captain America," Rarity breathed as the memory of that party long ago was called forth in her mind. Applejack gasped and pulled her hat off, peeking around the tree in shock. The Captain was almost out of their field of vision, walking inexorably towards her family.

"Oh Celestia," Applejack whispered. "Oh dear Celestia, he was tellin' the truth. Loki was tellin' the truth and I didn't believe him."

"Forget that," Big Mac snorted, taking off past Applejack and making for the next large tree. "He's walkin' right towards Apple Bloom and Granny Smith. We need to stop him."

"Not without a plan, we're not." Applejack slapped her hat back on. Her momentary paralysis was forgotten. She'd apologize to Loki later; right now the priority was keeping her little sister and grandmother safe. With Rarity in tow, AJ trotted as silently as she could next to her big brother. "We need a distraction to get him to point that weird black wand somewhere else for a bit."

"Already ahead of you." Rarity grinned, her horn glowing as she levitated an apple for the other two to see.

The sounds of the forest around him twisted and snarled together like worms inside the core of an apple. All at once, Steve was sure he could hear voices behind him. He stopped, twisting on his feet and leveling his sidearm at a small copse of trees. The voices shifted around as he turned, staying to his rear no matter which way he turned.

Steve lowered his weapon, squinting his eyes to stare deeper into the dark foliage. After several seconds, he craned his head over his shoulder, catching sight of that large house and accompanied barn.

Rogers didn't hear the apple flying toward him until it was almost on top of him. His reaction was instantaneous and took less than two seconds: he twisted his upper body, bringing his weapon to bear and sliding his finger onto the trigger. Thumbing the hammer back, he let loose a single shot. The fruit rippled for a half-second before erupting into a shower of brown-grey apple guts as the bullet passed through it.

"Gah!" Steve's eyes clapped shut as small globules of what was once an apple splashed into them. He twisted his head forward, frantically wiping the makeshift applesauce out of his watering eyes. Tears streaked down his cheeks and his vision blurred. He could barely make out the shadows of the trees once again when he felt the tremor in the ground. A memory of the trains in Brooklyn played in the back of his mind.

He forced his eyes open and beheld a sight that made his jaw drop open: an orange-furred horse, no taller than his midsection, was racing towards him at full speed. It wore a brown cowboy's hat, its sandy blonde mane whipping around behind it along with its red-ribboned tail. Two green eyes stared out from the shadow of its mane, burning with ill intent.

In his long and strange life, Steve had seen a red-skulled despot, flying leviathans, green rage monsters, and what might be considered gods. He'd invaded countries to free them and fought alongside men and women from two separate and wholly different generations. Despite all of that, for a moment, he was stricken dumb by the charging horse. The orange pony opened its mouth, letting lose a war cry in a strangely feminine voice.

That cry jerked Steve from his shock. At the same moment, the orange horse whirled around and lifted her rear end up. Thick, powerful rear legs pulled in close. He could almost hear the muscles creaking underneath her skin as time slowed down.

Steve dodged aside a split-second before the horse released her kick. Rather than pulverizing muscle and bone, her cracked hooves ripped through the dead tree behind him. The tree groaned and screeched, as if giving voice to the pain of its own demise. Its body shredded apart in thick sheets and splinters.

The two combatants locked eyes through a growing fog of tree guts. The moment pulled taut like a bowstring in an archer's hand. Steve could see anger in the horse's eyes. Anger and something else; something almost like confusion.

Time finally snapped back to its normal speed. The horse skidded across the ground as her rear hooves came down with a heavy thud. She tilted her head back and her nostrils flared in a challenging snort.

"Get offa my property," the horse demanded. She stamped her front hooves into the ground, scraping them through the dirt like a bull readying a charge.

"I'm Captain Steve Rogers with S.H.I.E.L.D." Steve's voice remained cool and level, despite the sense of unreality that had draped itself upon him. "I'm here to retrieve the war criminal known as Loki." He looked down at his pistol, then back at the orange cowgirl horse. With deliberate slowness he slid his stabilizing hand away and slipped his weapon back into its holster.

"I know you." Cowgirl kept her head lowered, her eyes trained on Steve's pistol. Her backfur bristled the whole time Steve moved his weapon. "Loki told us all about you and your Avenger friends."

"If Loki told it to you, it's probably a lie." Steve held his hands out in a combination of peace and defense. His muscles tensed, his eyes fully trained on Cowgirl.

"Yeah, maybe," she conceded. "But if it's a choice between trusting someone that saved my friend and trusting someone marching towards my house with a big, scary black wand, I'll take the first."

Steve frowned. "If he saved your friend, it was only because he could use it to his ad –" His animal brain detected movement a millisecond before he reacted. He turned and raised a hand in defense when a ballistic apple slammed into the side of his helmet. Through a haze of apple particles, Steve saw a white pony standing several feet behind him, half-hidden behind a tree.

Cowgirl was off like a rocket. She flew through the air towards Steve, the ground trembling with her thundering hooves. His instincts kicked in not a moment too soon. The Captain reached behind his back and pulled his shield off its harness. Slotting his left hand into the leather strap, he brought his arm down towards Cowgirl's neck in a strong overarm punch.

Cowgirl gasped and yanked her body back, squeezing her eyes shut in reflex. Her mane fluttered wildly, her nose squeaking against the shield's polished surface as it rammed down into the ground. Steve pulled his shield from the ground and swung his arm out, taking Applejack on the side of the face in a measured backhand. Cowgirl's eyes popped wide, her head swinging with the force of the blow before her body came with her. She landed several feet away, her hat tumbling off her head to rest upside down.

Quick as a blink, Steve threw his arm behind him and caught another apple flying towards his head. He shifted his stance and turned to face White. She glared at him through a curly violet mane, a strange horn on her forehead glowing hot with purple energy. Steve glared right back and raised his shield preemptively.

The stand-off terminated when a third horse entered the fray, bigger and stronger than the other two put together. The red-furred freight train on legs came charging around the aging tree, his massive hooves kicked up huge chunks of earth. His nostrils flared and he lowered his head, as if he meant to run down Steve like a mad bull.

Steve set his foot back, putting his shield in front of him and bracing both arms into the straps. He dug his heels into the ground and grit his teeth. This is going to hurt, he thought ruefully.

Red left the ground for a half-second. He swung his body around and curled himself inward before exploding outward in a monstrously powerful kick. Both rear hooves collided with Steve's Vibranium shield with a sound like a ten-story-tall bell being rung. In spite of all of his preparedness, Steve was still catapulted off his feet and through the air.

He struck a tree with an intensity that knocked the wind from his lungs. A sharp crack met his ears and for a half-second he hoped that it was merely a branch. Then the pain hit and the air that he drew into his empty lungs was laced with fire. Steve dropped down to the ground in an uncoordinated mass, rolling onto his good side as he felt around for the break in his ribcage.

"Applejack!" White scampered over to her friend's side, leaning down to nose the pony's ear. "Come on! Get up!"

Applejack's eyes fluttered open. Licking her lips, she huffed and spat out a gobbet of blood. Steve found the broken rib and set it at the same time as Applejack rose. His vision filled with stars and flashes of white, pain blossoming inside him like a mushroom cloud. He stood and shook his head to clear his vision. When he opened his eyes, Applejack and White had disappeared. Red counted at the ground, his nostrils flaring and his gaze burning with murder. Steve retrieved his shield and locked it onto his arm just as he lunged forward, his powerful legs carrying him to Red in only a few paces.

Everything happened at once. Steve threw a punch straight at Red, who replied in kind by launching himself forward in a reckless headbutt. Inches from impact, Applejack and White burst from the foliage to Steve's right. He had no time to reacte as he was taken in the legs and the midsection. Once again Steve's world filled with pain as his broken rib was unseated. The four people scattered to the ground, kicking up dirt and grass. Steve went sliding sideways, taking the two Elements with him and leaving Big Mac to sail past the tangle of body and limbs. Steve, Rarity, and Applejack landed in a heap. The very air tasted of blood and dirt, Steve's uniform torn and matted in the few minutes he had spent in Equestria.

"Cheap-shottin' sunnuva – " Applejack grunted, crawling on top of Steve's chest. She drew her hoof back and brought it down, punching Steve across his jaw in a wicked cross. "How d'you like it, huh?" She hit again, her face screwed up in a snarl. She brought back a hoof covered in blood. "I got a mind to beat the tar outta you!"

"Then do it," Steve responded. Applejack blinked before her world lit up into stars as Steve punched her in a hard uppercut. She sailed off of him, landing some feet away. "Don't just talk about it."

"You brute!" White screeched, slapping Steve across his cheek with her hoof. He whipped around in response, meeting White's face in a harsh, open-palmed backhand. The pony scrambled backwards and off the Avenger, a hoof held to the swollen mark on her cheek. "My face!"

"Mine, too," Steve grunted through a swollen lip as he slowly rose to his feet. "I told you before, I don't want to fight. I'm here for Loki – he's a tyrant and war criminal and he belongs in prison for his crimes." Steve gritted his teeth as he reached behind himself to set his broken rib a second time.

"Don't believe ya," Red snorted. He walked over to Applejack, leaning down to nudge her motionless body. "Loki's been nothin' but kind to us."

"He's a liar," Steve sighed, exasperation eating away at him. "Whatever he did, whatever he told you, it was meant to win your loyalty in case we got here."

"Can't take that chance." Applejack sat up slowly, grabbing her hat with her teeth and flipping it back onto her head. "What Loki told us about you Avengers is too terrible to contemplate happenin' here."

Steve hung his head. His muscles ached and burned, his body working at maximum capacity to heal the damage done by these ponies in only a few minutes. He rubbed his jaw, hissing through his teeth. Definitely deep bruising there.

"You seem like good people." Steve drew one leg behind him, setting it hard and bringing his other forward. He brought his arms up in front of him, hands held in loose fists. "So I'm going to ask one more time: stand down."

Applejack snorted derisively. "What, y'think you can take on two Elements of Harmony and my big brother?" She stamped one hoof into the moist earth. "We're a lot tougher'n we look, Captain."

Steve's smile was both tired and knowing. "Then I'll stop taking it easy on you."

The three ponies stood shoulder-to-shoulder, facing down the intruder. Steve was struck with an odd nostalgia: this looked exactly like a scene in every one of his favorite westerns, where the bad guy and the good guy square off at high noon.

Which side am I on now?, Steve wondered.

"What do you think?" Twilight Sparkle grinned as she twirled around in her new outfit. The gold cloth shone in the light of the afternoon, offsetting the green of her breastplate. "Rarity even gave it a cape! I feel like a superhero or something."

Loki stood at the front step of his archives. Clad in his unicorn form, his face couldn't completely conceal the mixture of humor and revulsion coursing through his gut. "Twilight, it's..." He shook his head and put on a grin. "Words fail me."

"That's not the best part!" Twilight was giggling like a schoolgirl as she practically danced on the spot. "Princess Celestia has put me in charge of the Summer Sun Celebration tomorrow!" She couldn't help herself – she let out a girlish squeal of excitement. Loki wondered if being stabbed in the ear would feel functionally different.

"She is not attending?" Loki tilted his head with mock interest.

"Oh, no." Twilight composed herself as best she could. "She tries to go everywhere she can at least once. This year she's going all the way down to Appleoosa. She actually left this morning."

"Long trip?"

"Very," Twilight agreed. "Even by pegasus coach she probably won't get there until – " Twilight paused. Something to her right caught her vision. She turned her head just in time to see a thick black cloud forming over Canterlot. Her sharp mind quickly deduced that it was hovering right over the large mall just outside the train station.

"Weird," she said. The clouds roiled and flashed lightning. The fur on Twilight's back stood on end as thick peals of rainbows curved throughout the dark mass. "That looks just like the cloud you said you came in on, Loki."

She looked back at her friend only to find an open door. She blinked, stepping up to peer inside the archives.

"Loki?" She called. Only silence greeted her.

A collective scream rose from the plaza. For a few seconds, Twilight stood at the entrance to the archives. She looked into the shadows within, then towards the train station, and then back again. She stamped her hoof in frustration before taking off, putting Loki's sudden departure in the back of her mind.

The twisted and erratic streets of Canterlot swiftly clogged with ponies, the mass of colorful furred flesh staring towards the circular plaza just outside the train station. The strange, rainbow clouds was completely dissipated by the time Twilight pushed through the crowds.

A dozen feet from the train station's entry, a small pit had been carved into the cobblestone streets. The stonework had been charred black, thin wisps of smoke curling from the ground. Standing inside the small crater was a creature that defied all classifications Twilight had studiously packed away inside her mind. The closest she could wager was that it was some kind of hairless ape, though the clothes and armor it wore bore more resemblance to the decorative armor of her brother.

"Loki!" The beast called out. He cast his gaze about the plaza, his firm grip tightening on his massive hammer. Stepping from his smoking pit, he advanced towards the crowd of panicking Equestrians. Twilight broke from the pack and galloped towards that bellowing ape. Its lip curled and it brought its weapon up in a defensive posture.

"Who are you?" Twilight called out, skidding to a stop what she hoped was a safe distance from the blonde-maned thing. "What are you?" She fought down the panic that was building inside her breast. Celestia had left her in charge for a day; she was not going to show weakness in front of the Princess's subjects.

"Do not play games with me, brother," The ape hissed. "You know exactly who I am."

"Huh?" Twilight's face twisted in confusion. She pulled her head back, taking a few steps away from the tall, menacing beast. "Brother? Wait a second..." Comprehension broke in her mind. "You're Thor! Brother of Loki!" Twilight exclaimed, raising a hoof in accusation. A murmur of excitement and rumor went up through the crowd.

Thor laughed without humor. "Very clever of you, disguising yourself as one of them." He raised his arms in mock congratulation. "And then you dress them like yourself? How terrified you must be of returning to your prison."

Twilight felt that panic rising again, the watchful eyes and safety of her fellow citizens keeping it from taking hold. She stood her ground, looking that creature right in the eye. "I am not Loki; my name is Twilight Sparkle, and this is – "

"No more lies, Loki," Thor interrupted. He let Mjolnir drop from his hand, grabbing onto the leather strap at the end of the haft and spinning it around. The trees in the plaza fluttered restlessly, adding to the tornado-like sussuration of that twirling hammer. "If you will not admit your deception, you leave me no choice!" Thor stepped forward, swinging his arm back and grabbing hold of Mjolnir on its backswing. The inertia of the dense hammer swung his arm over in a wide arc, bringing it down right at Twilight's head. A bare second before the hammer struck home, her horn glowed to life.

There was a crack and whooshing of escaping air. Thor's hammer swung through nothing. It crashed down against the street, sending a small mushroom cloud of pulverized stonework into the air. The Asgardian blinked as the fog lifted enough to show that Twilight was nowhere to be found.

The intruder cried out as a thick sheet of magical bolts cascaded across his back. They burned through his long red cape and sizzled against his armor, dissipating within seconds and leaving that ancient metalwork glowing hot against his flesh. He turned on his heel, throwing Mjolnir up and slapping away another flurry of those glowing bullets. Twilight Sparkle stood across the plaza, her legs set and a determined scowl on her face. Her horn glowed hot as she fired, sparks exploding from the base. They hissed and cracked as they burned into the cobblestone street.

"Get back!" Twilight yelled over her shoulder, shifting her gaze quickly to the ponies watching. "Get away! Call the Palace Guards!" Even as she spoke, the crowd was dispersing. A weight lifted from her shoulders as she realized that the ponies under her charge were safer than they'd been seconds ago. It was replaced with a colder knowledge – Thor was getting closer. Swinging his hammer around in wide arcs, he deflected her rapid-fire magical bolts with contemptuous ease. Step by step he advanced, for all the world like an unstoppable juggernaut.

"Stop this madness, Loki!" Thor yelled through the barrage. "These small equines should not have to suffer the poison of your presence any longer!" He was now only a few feet away, looming over her with his monstrous bulk.

"For the last time, I am not Loki!" Twilight screamed. The torrent of fire stopped just long enough for her to activate her teleportation spell once again. The world shifted in front of her, melding into a wash of colors. She ran through that otherwordly nether realm, the spell dumping her several yards behind Thor. She caught sight of something large and solid to her left – a vendor's wagon, advertising breakfast, lunch, and dinner at cheap prices. She mentally apologized to its owner as she slowly enveloped it with her magic, raising its bulk into the air.

Twilight released a war cry just as Thor flung his arm out to his rear and released his hammer. The weapon sailed through the air head-first, its destructive crash course aimed directly at Twilight's face. Her aggressive cry turned into one of girlish panic. Quick on her hooves, she swung that heavy wagon between herself and the hammer, leaping out of the way as she did so. The cart soon exploded into a mist of wooden shards, metal connectors, and foodstuffs as that hammer tore through it, missing Twilight by scant millimeters.

When she landed, a shadow descended over her as Thor pressed the attack. One hand reached out to encircle her neck, the other held up in a fist, ready to crash into her face. Her horn glowed again, the cool purple shell of her bubble shield forming around her. Thor landed and brought his fist against her shield with a muffled krump. The bubble shook but held strong.

For a moment, Twilght allowed herself to hope. Then she felt the air displace around her, even through the bubble. Thor held his hand out over her, catching his hammer with practiced ease. He didn't give her any time, raising his weapon high over his head and bringing it crashing down on her only line of defense. The air split with a screeching keen of two magics competing for dominance.

Adrenaline spiked through Twilight's chest, cold and sharp. Through the crackling of the hammer's thunderous blow and even above her attacker's roar of power and frustration, she heard her shield failing. The thin line of a crack traced its way across her safety bubble, spreading slowly and squealing as it traveled.

Again and again and again he hammered her only defense; more and more her shield resembled a stained glass window, crissed and crossed with a spiderweb of cracks. Twilight fell to her knees, sweat pouring down her body as she struggled to keep up that wall between herself and death.

It was no use. Her horn sputtered its last and fell silent, her shield flickering in and out of existence. Her legs gave way and she fell onto her side, eyes glazing over as the effort finally caught up with her. Through her hazy sight and her fading shield, she saw the vague outline of Thor rearing back for the coup de grace.

"You chose this fate, brother!" Thor brought his hammer down one last time. Sweat flung from his face like spittle, his lips pulled back in a feral growl. A cloud dirt and dust exploded into the air.

The fog slowly cleared. Thor's snarl turned into a frown and then opened in a gawp of surprise.

Twilight's barrier was gone, shattered into a million pieces that were slowly fizzling out of existence. A new barrier, thicker and stronger, replaced it. The pink orb throbbed with power, despite Twilight's dazed state.

Thor let out a grunt, pulling his weapon back. The barrier shifted and warped out into a wall-like protrusion that rushed to greet the Asgardian. Thor had no time to react: the barrier slammed into him and lifted him bodily from the ground. He flipped through the air, spinning head over rear until he came to a wet landing in the plaza fountain.

Twilight opened her eyes seconds later, seeing a shape resolving itself through the mist that had crept into her vision. It was a pony, whoever it was, radiantly white and edged with purple and gold. Getting her hooves underneath her, she pushed up. Her knees wobbled and threatened to give; she forced her legs to straighten, taking another look at her rescuer. Her heart soared and she grinned. "Big brother!"

Shining Armor returned his sister's smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. He was dressed in his full armor, the metal sparkling in the midday sun. The glow of his horn died down and the bubble around his sister dissipated.

"Are you okay, Twily?" He reached out to brush her mane down, looking her over for any bruises or broken bones.

"Yeah, just a little shaken up." Twilight chuckled nervously. "That guy's got a mean swing with that hammer of his."

As if summoned forth by Twilight's words, Thor burst from the pool's surface and jumped out onto the street. His body trailed water as he stalked forward, his golden hair clumped in thick locks that hung before his face to give him the appearance of some feral beast. He held his hammer tight in one hand, glaring daggers at the newcomer.

"You know not in what you meddle, golden pony." Thor spat. "I will lay you out as I did my brother."

"Brave words," Shining riposted, "for someone outnumbered two-hundred-to-one."

Twilight and Thor shared a moment of confusion. The two of them were pulled away from their little world in the center of the plaza to gaze around, finding the thoroughfares and side streets leading out of the large, circular space crammed full of white-furred stallions in armor similar to Shining's. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, several rows deep in some streets, glaring at the intruder through the slits in their helmets.

"The Royal Guard," Twilight breathed. She felt her confidence returning. Even if Chrysalis had been able to overwhelm them with an entire army, there was certainly no chance a single person could go through two hundred of Celestia's best warriors.

Thor stepped in a slow circle, his hammer held at the ready. His grimace relaxed by degrees, until it had pulled back into a slow, easy smile. Then he laughed. Long and deep and warm, he tossed his head back and let the laughter cascade out of him. Shining Armor and Twilight looked at one another, unsure if they should be frightened or amused.

"Very well then," Thor spoke finally. The Guard were marching forward, their hoofsteps locked together in perfect synchronization. Thor let his hammer slide loose, grabbing the leather strap at the end. He spun it in a slow circle, eying up the closing circle of with a cocky grin.

"One at a time," Thor continued, "or all at once. It makes no difference to me."

"Oh, Cloud Kicker," Fluttershy chirped happily. "I'm so glad you finally decided to come down and get yourself a pet."

Cloud Kicker smiled sheepishly. She brushed a hoof through her mane and hung her head with embarrassment. "I thought it'd be easier to try to take care of a cat or a fish or something before I try for a filly."

Fluttershy laughed and pressed a comforting hoof to Cloud's shoulder. "Don't worry, Cloud. We'll find the right pet for you." She motioned for Cloud Kicker to follow her as she made her way around to the back of her house. "So did you have your mind set on someone in particular?"

"Well," Cloud said pensively, "I was hoping something that flies. Y'know, something I can take back to Cloudsdale with me." She winced as they rounded a corner and the pet pens came into view. The noise was deafening; caws, barks, hisses, bleats, roars met their ears in one overwhelming chorus.

"Are they always this lively?" Cloud yelled with her hooves clamped over her ears.

"No," Fluttershy gasped. She rushed over to the fenceline. "Oh, please. Please be quiet! It's fine! It's just Cloud Kicker! She's not going to hurt you!" She stamped her hooves in frustration when the animals seemed to get louder. Some were even starting to attack each other in their mindless fear.

"What's gotten into them?" Fluttershy cried out. "They're never like this!"

"Maybe it's that!" Cloud Kicker shoved her hoof at the sky. Her eyes were wide and her jaw shuddered as if she were cold.

Fluttershy turned. She cast her gaze up, following the line of Cloud Kicker's hoof. Her eyes widened and her ears slowly lowered against her head.

"No," she whispered to the mindless black cloud. "Not again. Please not again."

The cloud was deaf to her pleas as it deposited its cargo right in front of her. Fluttershy and her friend were blown back into the chain link fence of her animal pens. The fence bent inwards and the two ponies tumbled down onto the green grass.

Fluttershy shook her head as stars exploded in her vision. She stumbled up onto all fours, trying and failing to find her center of gravity. She fell again and then righted herself for good, just as her vision cleared and she got her first good look at what it was that had been thrust into her life.

Fluttershy's natural empathy flared up as she saw that strange thing writhing on the ground. It reminded her of Loki's first appearance only in the most basic forms. The thing was bent over double, clasping its head with both hands with its back to her.

She barely heard Cloud Kicker yell a warning, her hooves moving on their own to take her closer to that poor, ailing creature. It whined and moaned and shook, the garments it wore pulled tight around its body. Too tight, like the collar of a dog pulled a few rungs too small.

"It's okay," she breathed in her most comforting voice. "It's okay. Everything's going to be – "

"Get away!" The voice that greeted her was guttural and harsh, like a raging river had learned to speak. The thing whipped its face about, spittle flying from its mouth. Its lips were pulled back to reveal large, pearly white teeth that hung apart as if ready to sink into vulnerable flesh. Its eyes, for a moment, were a dark brown. Green flecks soon took over, melding together into a bright, glowing green that hurt to look at.

Fluttershy jumped back to avoid the thing's arm as it swiped at her. A great ripping sound filled her ears, bits of cloth flying through the air. The thing slammed its fists against the ground, shaking the very earth beneath them.

It screamed. It threw its head back and screamed and Fluttershy's very soul screamed with it. There was something in that scream that was simply, utterly wrong. It was a scream that rooted her hooves to the spot with sheer horror.

The thing shook and quavered and grew, its skin rippling as muscle mass doubled and tripled within seconds. Its soft pink flesh hardened to an impenetrable green as its bones creaked deep inside. It struggled to its feet and its shoes burst apart like rotten fruit, heavy feet digging deep furrows in the soft earth. Hands big enough to crush a pony in their grip curled into fists and were thrust to the heavens, another roar belted to the blue sky.

Fluttershy's wings drooped until the tips nearly touched the ground. Her eyes grew as big as dinner plates even as the irises shrunk to bare pin pricks of aquamarine. Her lower jaw had fallen open and quivered uselessly, soundless squeaks of horror caught in her throat. Her lower half plopped down onto the ground as the strength in her body simply bled away.

The hulking thing lowered its arms and just stood there with its broad back to her. Its shoulders rose and fell slowly with its breathing.

It was at that moment that one of Fluttershy's signature squeaks chose to bubble up from her throat. She didn't have time to close her mouth in shock before that giant bruiser of a beast had turned on her. How could something so large be so fast?

Their eyes met. Fluttershy saw in its green gaze an anger so pure and single-minded that her body's natural fight-or-flight responses toppled beneath its gaze. The beast roared once again, spittle frothing forth as he raised his arms above his head. Fluttershy didn't move. She couldn't move. Death roared into her very soul and she stared at it like a deer into headlights.

Cloud Kicker slammed into Fluttershy's side, tackling her out and away from that green beast. She felt the wind of its blow as it brought its fist down. The ground shook and she was blown off course by a rush of air. The two ponies fell into a disorganized mass yards away.

Cloud Kicker clambered to her hooves, rushing over to Fluttershy where she lay. Her blue eyes were completely dilated, staring up at the sky in a glassy, unfocused haze. Kicker winced, looking over her shoulder to see that ape-thing searching around, snuffling and growling as if scenting the air.

"Sorry, Flutters," she announced, before reaching out and giving her friend's face a good, solid slap. The blow was like the crack of a gun, sending the Hulk's head snapping around in their direction. Kicker looked behind herself, locking eyes with the beast. A cold claw of panic wrapped around her heart. Why did I pick today to come and ask for a pet?, she thought.

Fluttershy rolled with the hit, ending up on her stomach. She blinked, blearily, as her faculties returned. The reality of the situation hit her all at once, slotting into place inside her mind like the last piece of a puzzle. The earth shook beneath the two ponies as the Hulk charged at them.

"Run!" Cloud Kicker screamed, though she'd hardly needed to tell her friend. Now that her fugue state had ended, Fluttershy was overtaken by a rush of adrenaline and panic. She stamped her hooves into the ground, kicking up mud and grass in her wake. She had no goal, no direction, no purpose other than putting as much distance between that great green monster and herself. Cloud Kicker ran with her, wings folded, blind panic fueling their gallop. The Hulk ran after them both, arms pumping and legs a blur. He roared, a frustrated and outraged cry. Fluttershy spared a glance behind her. A sinking feeling tore at her gut right up until she felt the wind of the Hulk's hand pass over her shoulder blades.

"He's getting closer!" Fluttershy screamed, new life streaming into her legs and giving her a burst of speed. The Hulk tried to grab her again, embedding his hand in the ground for his trouble. That bought them only a half-second of lead time before the monster ripped his hand free and resumed the chase.

"Up here!" Cloud Kicker called. In the middle of a jump, she spread her wings and beat them furiously. In moment she'd gained enough altitude to put her several yards above that beast's head. "Come on! Up here, Fluttershy!"

Fluttershy pushed off the ground and spread her wings, jerking her head back at the same time. Pain spread through her back as her previously dislocated wing protested to its violent use. The Hulk swiped the air where she had been, his fingers flying through the ends of her tail before grabbing onto nothing. It slowed down by degrees, kicking up furrows of dirt before it finally stopped. Fluttershy was several dozen feet in the air when it finally came to a halt, leaning back and sending a roar up to greet her.

Cloud Kicker was waiting, sweat dripping from her body. Her legs twitched as the adrenaline rush began to take its toll. She grinned and flew in close, wrapping her friend in a tight, warm hug. Fluttershy returned the embrace. Her gorge was rising, the experience threatening to bring her lunch back for an encore.

"I knew it," Cloud Kicker sighed. She pushed herself a foot or so away from Fluttershy, her face slack with relief. "I knew it couldn't follow us up here."

The words had barely registered with Fluttershy's ears popped and she was treated to a perfect view of the ensuing carnage. Her eyes widened as she saw, plain as day, the Hulk rise up to meet them both. He got Cloud Kicker's back, a thick-muscled arm pulled back in preparation. His teeth were bared, eyes blazing with uncontrolled fury.

The world seemed to swim, moving at a speed closer to molasses than the normal flow of time. Cloud Kicker's expression tightened, her head turning to look behind her with painful slowness. The Hulk hung in the air behind her, and for one moment the world stopped. Fluttershy knew what was about to happen. Worse than that, she knew that she was absolutely helpless to stop it.

Hulk slammed his open palm against Cloud Kicker, bellowing a war cry. Fluttershy was treated to the image of Cloud Kicker's body folding against that attack, her head snapping to the side. Bones broke with astonishing speed. The sound reminded Fluttershy of celery being torn. The moment was over as quickly as it began and Cloud Kicker careened down to Equestria like a fallen angel.

She struck the earth with a force that dug a trench several yards long and a sound akin to wet laundry hitting a washboard. Blood mixed with dirt before she tumbled over, leaving that trench and skipping across the grass like some obscene stone flicked across a pond. Her body moved as if her bones had been rendered paste, head flopping uselessly and her wings mangled beyond recognition. The Hulk landed almost right on top of Cloud Kicker. He growled, clenching and unclenching his fists.

Something was building inside Fluttershy. Her pupils dilated, her breath came in quick, shallow draws. Sweat beaded across her forehead and the world swam red. She recalled so many other moments in her life when she'd felt this cocktail of panic, rage, helplessness, and righteous indignation. A small, rational part of her mind screamed that this was the worst sort of mistake; something this large and this angry could never be corralled or controlled.

As it lifted its fists, Fluttershy found she didn't care.

"Stop!" Fluttershy screamed, her voice carrying with it a forcefulness and power far removed from its usual timid timber. Birds carried to wing as her cry expanded outward.

The Hulk stopped mid-swing. His brows furrowed and he frowned, turning his immense form. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that yellow flying thing glaring at him. He roared in response, swinging his legs around so he faced that little annoyance.

"Leave Hulk alone." The words were a low, rumbling whisper, a threatening roll of thunder in the horizon.

"What?" Fluttershy gasped. Her rage disintegrated, like a popped soap bubble.

"Leave Hulk alone!" His rage was a living force as he screamed, throwing his arms behind him and thrusting his chest out. He bent at the knees, his legs screwing up. Muscled tightened and tendons pulled taut.

Fluttershy saw his motion, her blue eyes widening. Just as the Hulk bounded into the air, she took off in a steep dive. The two of them met in mid-air and Hulk's face opened in surprise. He reached out for her, grasping, groping, trying to pluck her out of her dive to dismember her. She slipped right through his hands, her tail fur sliding across his palms right before he slammed them closed.

Fluttershy leveled out and powered on across the green plains. She beat her wings harder than she had in her life. The drumbeat of her heart nearly matched the frantic pace of her flapping wings. She spared a glance behind her and beheld the Hulk, flipping over and landing on his feet. It turned and roared, tearing off after her with its arms outstretched.

With a deft motion Fluttershy scooped up Cloud Kicker's limp form, holding her in her forelimbs while she beat her wings. Adrenaline rocketed through her bloodstream, filling her muscles with fire and propelling her forward as if she were attached to a jetpack. The limp weight of her friend was no heavier than a bundle of pillows in her current state. She pulled ahead of the great green ogre, putting distance between them before he got up to speed in his pursuit.

Now she just had to keep that distance constant.

"We are five kilometers from the city, sir." Jarvis spoke with his usual brevity and accuracy.

"Kilometers?" Tony raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Am I wearing a bow tie?"

"Terribly sorry, sir. I'll remember to use miles and speak with a Southern drawl next time."

Iron Man was a gold and red comet streaking across the sky. The memory of his battle with that strange rainbow-colored pegasus was fading in his mind as that city had grown larger. Even at altitude it loomed over him with its impressive castle spires and fortress walls. The city growing around the central castle reminded him less of Miami or New York and more of a place like Paris or Rome, with their twisting streets and overly-designed architecture.

Three small red blips beeped to life on his GUI. His suit tracked them as leaving from the city itself, coming towards him at a rapidly-increasing rate of speed.

"Ah-hah." Tony turned his body upright, pushing his hands out and reversing his momentum with deliberate use of his repulsors. "Looks like we're about to meet the Welcome Wagon."

The blips soon resolved themselves to be three more pegasi, each of them covered in a tight blue uniform with a thunderbolt pattern sewn onto their sides. The apparent leader of the three, a fire-headed pegasus, slowed to a stop some yards away from Tony. She looked at her partners – a doughy-faced blue-haired stallion and a white-haired mare – before speaking up.

"My name is Spitfire," she said. "This is Soarin and Fleetfoot." She motioned to her comrades, both of whom nodded in acknowledgement. "We're the Wonderbolts. What business do you have here?"

"Spitfire? Wonderbolts?" Tony scoffed under his breath, rubbing a hand against his head. "Who names things around here?" He activated his suit's speakers, hoping his voice wouldn't be too overbearing. "Yeah, hi, sorry to barge in unannounced, but I was kinda hoping I could just zip into town for a second. I've got an old friend in there I need to talk to."

The three Wonderbolts exchanged looks of confusion. Soarin and Fleetfoot shrugged their shoulders. Spitfire raised an eyebrow and flew forward, trying to size up this strange new guest.

"Who are you looking for, anyway?" Spitfire's voice dripped with suspicion.

"Uh, I can't tell you that," Tony responded.

"Why not?" Fleetfoot scooted closer.

"Because, the last pegasus I told started hitting me." Tony reached up and pressed his fingers into the dent on his helmet. "These things aren't cheap, you know."

"Spitfire," Soarin piped up,"I think we should go." He moved forward and put a hoof on his leader's shoulders. "Remember what happened the last time we tried to be superheroes?"

Fleetfoot scoffed. "In all fairness, that was a dragon."

"A dragon?" Tony raised both eyebrows. "You've got dragons here? Pegasi, dragons, giant castles: it's like every little girl's dream mutated into a planet."

The conversation ended abruptly as a red warning rune flashed up on Tony's GUI: an object was approaching from the rear at near supersonic speed. He had just enough time to turn and see something blue streaking towards him before it hit. The strike took him in the shoulder, spinning him off his center of gravity and sending him plummeting towards Equestria. A few curses and a rewritten flight path later, and he kicked off his repulsors to gain altitude.

Tony saw Rainbow Dash pulling up from her dive, looping back around and above the Wonderbolts. She turned her head and fixed him with a withering stare that recalled many conversations he'd had with Pepper in the past few years.

"Don't let him talk!" Dash warned as she floated down level with the other pegasi. "He's got a mean tongue and he'll try to tell you he's a good guy. He's not! He's one of those Avengers! He's come to kidnap Loki!"

Spitfire's jaw dropped again as Soarin and Fleetfoot looked at one another, confusion passing between them. The scream of repulsors brought the four ponies' gaze back towards Cloudsdale as Iron Man lifted himself up to their altitude, a few yards' distance put between them.

"Clever," Tony congratulated, "very clever, playing 'possum like that. I would have thought a repulsor blast would have KO'd you."

"Hah!" Rainbow Dash flew out in front of the Wonderbolts, puffing herself up and beating her chest with her hoof. "You gotta do better than that to take out a pegasus! I've survived hurricanes, lightning, tornadoes, and having Derpy for a friend!" She thrust an accusatory hoof at Tony. "You think your little claw laser zappy things can take me out?"

Tony shut off his hand repulsors for a moment, raising them in a quick display of submission. "All right, all right," he admitted, "you got me there. You're repulsor-proof." Quickly, he thrust his hands down and re-engaged his balancing jets, while at the same time he selected another weapon from his repertoire. "Here's a question for you: are you shrapnel-proof?"

"Huh?" Rainbow Dash leaned back, cocking an eyebrow.

Iron Man's shoulder plates lifted up, revealing three rows of tightly-packed miniature rockets.

"Think fast, Color Wheel." Tony quipped, loosing the missiles on the pegasi.

Steve stood up from his crouched position, catching his shield as it rebounded off a tree. His muscles ached and that rib bone chased fire across his lungs. The satisfaction of a job well done warred with his pain as he surveyed his work.

Applejack struggled to right herself from where he'd thrown her, several feet behind him. Her left forelimb was entirely limp, the shoulder pulled from its socket. She glared daggers at Steve. He returned the look as he calmly walked over to Applejack's violet-maned friend.

White lay on her side in the middle of a patch of scorched earth. Her horn still sputtered sparks as her body twitched and juddered. She wore a massive knot of angry red-purple flesh just below her horn where Steve had aimed the first part of his shield throw. Her eyes stared emptily forward, jaw slack and drool pooling in the dirt beneath her. He went to one knee, pressing two fingers to her neck.

Applejack opened her mouth to yell. Her voice cracked, legs giving out finally and she fell onto her side. Steve shook his head slowly.

"Well, you're still alive," he spoke, more to himself than anyone else. White's eyes had finally closed, her twitching settling down and her sparks disappearing for the moment. Getting to his feet and dusting himself off, he let out a long, slow sigh.

"Wait!" A new voice cut through the clearing. It was higher pitched, almost painfully so. Steve jerked his head around, bringing his shield up to guard against any sneak attacks. What he found was the smallest pony he'd yet seen, colored peach and wearing a bright red bow in her mane, trotting out to stand between him and Applejack. Tears streamed down her face as she gazed up at him with large, innocent eyes. "Please don't hurt mah family or friends anymore, mister! Please! They didn't do nuthin' wrong!"

"Apple Bloom, no," Applejack hissed through gritted teeth. She tried to get to her feet and fell once again. "Don't. Please. She's just a kid. Please!" She stared up at Steve with wide, panicked eyes.

Steve shifted his gaze from Applejack to Apple Bloom and then back again. The child's gaze reminded him distinctly of the face of so many German children – confused, scared, helpless. He reached down and grabbed the edge of his shield, pulling it off his arm and slowly sliding it onto the holster on his back.

"I don't hurt kids," he said simply. "Now, your friend back there is only unconscious, so – "

"Big Mac!" Apple Bloom cried out, rushing around Steve. He recalled his shield bouncing off White's horn and into Red's throat before flying off into the forest. Following Apple Bloom's path brought Steve's gaze to Red. The massive pony was laid out on his back, kicking and gasping as he grasped at his windpipe. His eyes bulged almost completely white where they'd rolled up into his skull and his face had turned the most ugly shade of purple.

"Help him!" Apple Bloom cried, a fresh burst of tears coating her cheeks. She rounded on Steve. "Please, help him! He's chokin'!"

The Sugar Cube corner was bustling happily in the mid-day sun. Customers went to and fro, chatting happily and eating their tasty confections. Mr. and Mrs. Cake moved among them, taking orders and talking up their friends where they found them.

The door dinged merrily as it was opened and a hooded equine strolled in. She carried a pair of saddlebags over her back that contained small vials and beakers of unknown, multicored fluids. Her fur was white with black stripes and though she was set apart from every other pony, nobody paid her entrance any heed. Nobody, that is, for the pink party pony who worked there.

"Hi, Zecora!" Pinkie Pie cried out happily. She pronked over the front counter, landing bouncily near her zebra friend. "Didja come to pick up your Chimicherrychanga filling?"

Zecora smiled, throwing her hood off and shaking her head side to side. Her mohawk-style mane fluffed up to its full height and her golden neck rings jingled merrily at the turning of her head.

"Pinkie Pie, heart so full and pure. I am here for the means to a cure." Zecora spoke, her voice deep and rich and yet still decidedly feminine. "Your filling is sweet and full of sass, but it is not needed now, alas. No, what I need is very rare: a pastry prepared with utmost care." She turned her head and bit down on a piece of parchment in her saddlebags, offering it to Pinkie Pie. Pinkie grabbed the parchment right out of her mouth with a hoof.

"Oooo," Pinkie cooed in wonder. "These ingredients are super-rare! This is gonna hafta be a special order." She leaned in close and whispered. "I'm very glad you're not here for the Chimicherrychanga filling. Between you and me, I put way too much sugar into it and it's thicker than tar."

The two friends had a good laugh together at Pinkie's folly. They chatted a little while longer about other things such as the weather in the Everfree Forest and the festivities planned for the Summer Sun Celebration. Their chatter died when they noticed that the general commotion in the pastry shop had also died down. The two of them looked around, confused as their fellow equines, before the source of everyone's disquiet was discovered: the floor was shaking.

Pinkie Pie walked over to a customer's table and stared at a tall, cold glass of milk. Every two seconds or so, the glass rattled and the milk inside shook in a slow, rhythmic fashion.

"Cool!" Pinkie giggled. Her patrons were far less sanguine about the tremors. The began to file out of the business, taking to the streets in an effort to find the source of the disturbance. After some hesitation Zecora followed them as well. Pinkie brought up the rear, pronking happily the whole way.

Out in the bright sunlight of Ponyville, the customers of Sugar Cube Corner found that they had not been alone in their confusion. Ponies of every type and color were filing out of their homes and businesses. They murmured among themselves as they shared theories and worries. The tremors increased in intensity, windows shaking in their fastenings. Screams and shouts rose from the crowd, foremost among them the voice of Mayor Mare trying desperately to regain order.

"What do you think it – whoo!" Pinkie's entire body shot up in the air, her limb's shaking and her mane floofing up into an explosion of pink cotton-candy. Memories of times past, of Twilight's futile struggle to quantify her 'Pinkie Sense', flooded back to her. "Whatever it is, it's a doozy!"

Zecora watched Pinkie's seizure-like state with a calm expression. She opened her mouth to speak and that's when the whole world turned upside down.

Something yellow and pink streaked out of a side street, resolving into an image of Fluttershy carrying a limp pony in her arms. Not a second later, screams rose as ponies were thrown bodily through the air. The alleway from which Fluttershy had emerged cracked and crumbled as something large, green, and angry burst its way from between two tall buildings. Windows cracked and masonry crumbled when it pushed its way into the main street.

Pandemonium reigned. The green beast threw his arms back and roared to the sky, feral eyes tracking the damnable yellow thing it had been chasing. Other things of lesser importance scrambled away, squealing in their high-pitched, grating voices. He paid them little mind as he took up the chase again. They spread around him like water, his mass sending them toppling under his feet or flying away from his huge, pumping arms.

Zecora watched as the giant strode away. Her jaw dropped and her eyes bulged. Pinkie soon dropped down from her spasms, flat on her back with her legs still kicking.

"There is only one thing I have to say," Zecora sighed as she placed a hoof to her face. "Why can we never have a normal day?"

The welcoming plaza just outside the train station in Canterlot had become a war zone.

Hundreds of the Canterlot Guard descended on the invader simultaneously. Their hoofbeats and kicks pummeled onto Thor's armored body while their sheer body weight drove him to the ground. He went to one knee as another hoof knocked his face sideways. He tasted blood in his mouth. Another pair of hooves cracked his ribs with an audible snap, clear even through the pile of bodies draped over him.

"Hold him!" Shining Armor ordered. He stood beside his sister several yards away from the melee. Twilight was back on her feet, her fur caked with sweat and grime but otherwise no worse for wear. "Keep him down until she gets here!"

"She?" Twilight canted her head in her brother's direction. "Cadance?"

Laughter broke through the conversation like a brick through a window. Brother and sister turned as one to stare at the pile of soldiers weighing down that brutal enemy. He was laughing, deep and hard, from his prison.

"You think this can hold a son of Odin?" Thor taunted. He gripped his hammer harder. "You think my hammer is my only strength?"

"He's bluffing," Shining countered. There was little force behind his voice, and more than a trace of nervousness.

"Shining," Twilight gasped. "Your fur!" She pointed to her brother's flanks. Shining followed her gaze to see his fur rising of its own accord, individual hairs sticking out in all directions. He looked over at his sister, his jaw dropping open as he beheld the utter disaster that was becoming of her tail.

Something roared above them. It was a deep and rumbling crash that called everyone's attention to a roiling mass of black clouds forming a few hundred feet above the tallest building in the plaza. Lightning flashed, tracing intricate patterns across the near-black mass and casting all within the plaza in a harsh blue glow.

The pile of guard suddenly exploded outwards. Bodies flew everywhere and the screams of the soldiers rang inside Twilight's skull. She turned and beheld Thor, his arms thrown out and a bare few guards clutching to his body as he stood up.

The cloud bank flashed and sent a bolt of lightning screaming down to the ground. Thor threw his hammer arm up and caught that bold with his weapon. Electricity arced a trail of fire and light up his arm before he drove the hammer straight down and into the cobblestone street. The surrounding guards that hadn't been tossed aside by Thor's first attack was now flung into the air as little more than ragdolls, an electrical earthquake sending even Shining Armor and Twilight Sparkle off their hooves. They landed in a heap, sister atop brother. Twilight's vision swam and she was almost taken by unconsciousness once again.

"Honey!" A new voice cut through the growing chorus of pained cries. Cadance, the Princess of Love, floated down to her husband's side. Her horn glowed and a soothing light suffused both her special somepony and sister-in-law. Within seconds, Shining and Twilight felt warmth and strength return to their bodies. They clambered back to their hooves slowly, getting their legs under them and testing them out before both looking at Cadence.

"Is she coming?" Shining asked, hope in his voice.

"She is." Cadence smiled with a nod.

"Who?" Twilight almost shouted in her punch-drunk haze. "Who are you talking about? What is going on? Where have you been, Cadence?"

"Enough!" Thor cut in. The three ponies looked at the towering aggressor, walking towards them with hammer in hand. He raised his weapon and pointed it at them menacingly. "I have had it with your prattle! You will hand Loki over to me or I will – "

"Be still!" A deep yet feminine voice cut across the plaza. More lightning struck, bringing with it deep shadows and peals of thunder. The God of Thunder itself stopped dead in his tracks.

I didn't summon that, he thought.

Cadence grinned. She gazed over Thor's shoulder to the sky beyond.

"I was giving a wake-up call," she said simply.

Twilight followed her former foalsitter's line of sight. When she saw the dark pony descending gracefully to meet them, she couldn't help but gasp.

Thor growled and turned to glare at this new challenger.

Luna, Princess of the Night and Guardian of Dreams, glared right back.