"That is a lot of horse shit."

The ramshackle, poop smelling, dark and dank subterranean sorry excuse for a horse-smith's forge looks better on paper. The fact that it rained yesterday didn't help to advertise the circular real estate either. He wasn't expecting a chateau villa in Italy per se, but a medieval squalor of all things? No way could it be sanitary and yet, this is what Tony has to work with. Even with his human nose, the stench of wet hay mix with horse shit made him want to up chuck his breakfast of faux Denver omelet. Cook would definitely be upset if she found out after all the criticism he put her through to get it somewhat decent. It wasn't Steve's cooking but Tony couldn't have all his hard work back fire.

"Indeed, sir," remarked Tanna as professional as could be after giving him a look for stating the obvious.

At their exchange, a few giggles erupted from behind them. Ah, yes. Their little audience. With Thor gone, most of the dozen elves Tanna had gathered for his cause had been fangirling him for lack of a better description. How else could one describe the constant ogling and giggling wherever he went? Hopefully his new PA has given them a heads up and they know what they're in for, although considering that these elves are wearing their finest silks, Tony suspects the opposite is true.

Not wanting to dwell on the whys too much, Tony turns away from the dilapidated structure to address the gathering crowd. If they were expecting a nice little keynote speech about his little pet project, well these elves are in for a letdown.

"Judging by how all the decor I've seen so far is in its natural metal polish, stone and wood grain furnishing state… I don't suppose any of you know where I can get some paint or plaster?"

Their answers were slow in coming but after a few verbal murmurs and a couple of head shakes in negation, Tony continues with a wry smile, "Didn't think so. After looking closely at the flagstone walls in the quad and the mega ton granite ones at the arena, I don't even see any traces of cement or mortar used to bind them together yet they stack and interlock seamlessly. The last time I'd seen something like that was in Machu Picchu, Peru. Remind me to give your masons the third degree later. Right now we got shit to muck."

A few minutes later, the dozen elves were still standing there. Tony held his smile a little longer though it didn't quite reach his eyes. First they look at the Omega standing with his arms akimbo with a weird smile plastered on his beardless lips, then at each other while a pair of red-haired twins gave Tanna the stink eye. One of them, the more muscular one of the lanky duo who looked like he's going through the first stage of elf puberty with acne and all, spoke up.

"I beg your pardon, your Highness?"

Tony dons on a fake smile and gave the relatively young elf a condescending nod to continue after seeing the equally as fake deference he received from the other.

"With all due respect, most of us assembled here are pages, squires, and apprentices to the nobles of Alfheim. We are unaccustomed to provide muckraking services as your Majesty so requires. If I may be so bold, sir, as to recommend those from the scullery or the stable hands, perhaps?"

Ha! As if Tony hadn't notice all the idleness that has most of the dozen elves here milling about the quad, twittering like high schoolers on a summer break. Though he may not have gone to high school, Tony had seen most of John Hughes' movies thank you very much. He has a pretty good idea what this age group is putting their unproductive time into. Fans of his or not, Tanna was right to volunteer these elves. This primeval clique needs a lesson à la Steve Rogers' style.

After giving this cop out the legitimacy it deserves, Tony folds his arms across his chest and stated in all fairness, "Sure, no problem as long as you take over their duties while they attend to my tasks. It'll only be a few days, give or take what I have in mind. Then you can go back to whatever it is you were doing."

He made sure to give each elf a measured chance to take up on his offer before he moved on with his stare down. It was no surprise when the twins gave Tony a shallow bow along with their murmured assurance that they'll send their replacements and left in haste. Hopefully within the hour, otherwise Tony would have to concoct some fitting punishment to establish his authority.

As Tanna began passing out the shovels and grabber-like sweepers to the remaining ten, Tony moves to stand beside her and whispers for her ears only, "What the heck is their problem?"

At least she acknowledged his inquiry with a side glance before refusing to dignify him with a response until all the elves reluctantly shuffle inside the forge out of earshot.

"Lars and Rhys, they squire for the mayor and steward of Ports Mouth respectively. Their masters, like many of the other nobles who are eligible Alphas, has been relaying messages via squires and pages to the King since your arrival. Unfortunately, this caused an unanticipated side effect. In having direct access to King Frey, a few young elves like the twins have inflated their own importance. Thus, I applause your method to weed out the troublemakers, your Highness."

He gasps in hearing her praise then sniffles before wiping the nonexistent tears from his eyes. After giving his performance a double take, she pretends not to notice. Unrepentant in his antics, a grinning Tony takes one of the grabber-whatsit and heads toward the hovel while inquiring just because he can, "Um, we're probably not thinking of the same place, but I'm going to ask anyways. Where is Portsmouth exactly?"

With a shovel in hand as she kept pace alongside him, Tanna answers without missing a beat, "You should know, your Highness. You were there but two week ago; the Red Cockerel tavern is situated at the edge of Ports Mouth."

Then with a solemn nod, Tony mused with a straight face, "Ah, the Red Cock strikes again."

And pretends not to hear the unladylike snort next to him before declaring out of the blue, "You want to know what I think? Of course you do. I think you have no trouble identifying the troublemakers at all. 'Never underestimate a woman no matter what distinction' my old man used to say. It's a first for me, but I do agree with him on this one. Anyhow, I am happy to exert my Princely authority to spank any donkey's butt anytime and anywhere. So feel free to direct them to me."

Wonder of all wonders, Tanna actually rolled her eyes at him before remarking with a shake of her head in disapproval, "I think I need not a translation to understand your crude meaning, my Lord."


At first, it was a strange sight to see them all dressed in their finery approaching the clumps of dung heap as if it'll attack or something. The novelty soon wore off due to Tanna's diligent task mastery while they file in and out of the forge to pour bucketful of poop into a large cart. Tony has half a mind to hand her a whip to complete the mental picture he had.

By the time the two replacements arrived, the team had clear a wide path from the fold out barn doors to the center fire pit. Tony was inspecting said revealed barn door when he noticed the newcomers sticking out like a sore thumb standing at his peripheral. The Hansel and Gretel runner-ups seem to be overstimulated with their imitation of a deer in the headlight. As if it were possible their faces turn even paler when Tony turns and addresses them directly. For once, his neck isn't locked permanently in the tilt up position when talking in general.

"Welcome to the party."

Upon seeing their muted awe, Tony flashes them his fan favorite smirk for the public and continues in a fast pace delivery, "Since we're burning daylight as we speak and there are lots to do still, here's the shorthand version: you two are going to help me fix this place up so that I can use it. So who are you, where were you, and what skills do you have? Come on, don't be shy."

They must be siblings too since both shared identical looks of astonishment before the boy spoke up, his voice breaking at odd intervals, "My name is Kip, your Highness. And I hail from Hjaalberg…"

After seeing the shake of Tony's head followed by the circling motion of his hands, the boy catches on and quickly adds, "er… from the Woods-smith's lodge when Master Lars bid me to attend you…And this changeling here is my sister, Pip, an apprentice for the Baker, sir."

If baleful looks could maim, young Pip would have skewered her brother for that remark. Tony likes them already. He signals for his PA to join them, "Meet Kip and Pip. Pip and Kip meet Tanna. Hmm…Kip and Pip. Pep and Tanna… That just won't do. See you're the odd one out here. You'll have to change your name to Tip or Tap in order to fit in."

"I will do no such thing of the sort," Tanna scoffs under her breath.

Feigning a long suffering sigh, he ignores her comment in favor of rallying his new minions.

"Fortunately for you two, the things I have planned require your specific skill sets. So consider yourself recruited."

Tony pulls out a list he scribbled earlier. On a whim he had decided to try his hand in doing the translations himself wherein Tanna double check his match stick writing. Luckily the Futhark runes he learned from his training days were only a slight variation of the current Asgardian script. With her insistence, next to his barely legible scratches was the Elvish equivalent. Interestingly, the scripts look more like Sanskrit than a mock up of Tolkien's own. He hands the list over to the siblings and noticed both of them squinting at the contents. Either they're in need of corrective lens or they're the byproduct of a system who does not promote the 'no children left behind' policy. Shaking his head, Tony turns back to the crew who's literally mucking around.

"You there! Yeah, with the side braid. Come here, please."

Tony pointedly ignores the questionable dark smear on the tall elf's cheek. Instead, he takes the list back and he hands the list over to the newcomer, "Okay boys and girl, these are the items I need you to get for me from the kitchen and the wood shop. You, the tall one, will help carry whatever items that are retrieved and make sure Pip and Kip complete the task without any hassle. Well? Go on."

He shoos them away and turns back to his task. After a minute and Tanna hasn't budge from her spot, he looked at her from over his shoulder and asked with an expression of all innocence, "What?"

All he heard was another unladylike snort before she switched back to drill sergeant mode. He wisely stayed out of her way after that.


"One great thing about having an art history major for an uncle is that you learn how to make things like paint from scratch. Although at the time, I was about as interested in making paint as I was watching it dry. Lucky for me, my memory retention is so high I remember shit like this even if I don't want to. So with a little bit of cornstarch, a little bit of water, a few drops of food coloring…and voila! You have Impasto!"

Of course Tony wasn't doing the mixing, not when young Pip was doing the task with so much enthusiasm. He would be too compared to what the older elves are doing.

"Your Highness, do we 'paint' with it now?"

Tony checks her brother's progress on the plaster before answering, "Not yet, this is just the base. I'll need the plaster to change the texture first. You can dump it in now, Kip."

With little supervision, the siblings completed his little chalk mixture and soon were painting within the outline Tony drew on one side of the barn door facing inwards. He would have chosen another location but the lack of natural sunlight inside the building and the cramp space left little to be desired for what he planned for its use.

Little by little the forge was cleaning up nicely. Despite the awkward beginning, Elvish work ethics rocks! No matter how dirty the job, when they set out to complete something, they're pretty thorough. The forge still looks like a squalid hovel but at least a clean one that smells like fresh wildflowers. A few of his fangirl-elves took the liberty of spreading fresh rushes sprinkled with flower water on the dirt stone floor.

The sun had already set when Tony, equally covered in muck and chalk paint, dismissed the group with a job well done and invited them (which in includes Kip and Pip as well) to dine with him in the hall after they clean up of course. This was met with boisterous approval before they dispersed. Afterwards, he gave clear instructions to Tanna to reserve a specific table and have Cook prepare items six, seven, nine, twelve and fifteen on the menu. Tony may not know how to cook, but he certainly knows what ingredients are in it and what it is supposed to taste like. Hopefully Cook would not disappoint.

That night, to the great amusement of King Frey, Queen Frigga and Ambassador Larien, Prince Anthony of Midgard expressed his heartfelt apologies in not able to dine with them for he had promised a feast to honor the group of young elves who had helped him in his time of need. Upon his proper dismissal by the King, Tony's reception as the host of their reserved table rang out with applause and no small amount of teasing. Since atypical of the usual dining experience on Alfheim, all of his distinguish guests were sitting at a still empty table.

Knowing that he had a bigger audience than just the immediate group with him, Tony dialed the Stark's brand of showmanship up several notches and allowed his voice to carry through to entertainment level.

"Welcome! I would like to thank all you muckrakers who have joined me this lovely evening."

This was met with a burst of laughter from his table, while frowns and murmured confusion spread amongst the others. If there was a twin set of eyes staring holes at him from some obscure table, Tony didn't noticed. Regardless he carried on.

"I would like to take this moment to praise your dedication and hard work. Without your generosity and support, I would still be knee deep in horse shit."

Another burst of laughter and the susurrus grew more restless.

"Instead, I look forward to working with you again in hopes that we may continue what we started today. As an expression of my humble thanks, I offer you a taste of Midgard!"

With that as his signal, the kitchen staff brought out plate after plate of foreign fares. The other elves rose from their seat in an uproar. All wanted to see and only a few were green with envy. To Ambassador Larien however, he had no qualms to crashing a party without a proper invite.

"Is that pizza and cookies I see? Oh, well…would your Majesty please excuse me?"

He took King Frey's eruption of laughter as permission and was out of his chair and down the dais before it even stopped.