//------------------------------//
// A Day in Canterlot, Part 2 
// Story: A Tale of Two Worlds 
// by The King of Gingers 
//------------------------------//

	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.