//------------------------------//
// Everything Will Be Fine 
// Story: The Unicorn and the Stranger 
// by PhycoKrusk 
//------------------------------//

	Only a few minutes after she stepped outside, Rarity came back into the bungalow carrying a small basket full of oranges and trying — and largely succeeding — to hide her nervousness. “Driftwood?” she said as the changeling came into view. He had just tossed a small log into his small stove, although had not yet lit it, and to the unicorn’s relief, was in his disguise. “It turns out we have company. A pair of Royal Guards, all the way from Canterlot.”

Sure enough, heavy hoofbeats sounded behind Rarity as she moved to Driftwood’s side, and two armored Guardsponies — both unicorns — entered the bungalow after her, stopping a short distance away and standing abreast.

“Oh?” Driftwood asked, turning away from the stove to look at Rarity, and then behind him, examining the Guards curiously. Rarity was internally grateful when he seemed to devise some sort of plan to deal with the situation, although she noted the slightest bit of jitters in his tail. “Are they friends of yours? Will they be joining us for breakfast?”

His answer came in the form of the sound of metal sliding against canvas as the first Guard to enter — now standing before them and to the right — called on his magic to levitate a metal rod with small gem set in its head from a holster at his side. Rarity was admittedly at a loss for how she had missed it earlier, but pushed the thought aside in favor of curiosity when the gem was directed towards Driftwood and it began to glow with a happy blue light.

“Is that what I think it is?” Driftwood asked, turning to face the Guards fully. Rarity turned her attention to him, and while he was regarding the device much like she had been, his expression was not one of curiosity; it was of resignation, with a sad smile.

The Guard who was levitating the device looked up from it, and then moved it over to Rarity. Immediately, it ceased to emit any kind of light.

“It is,” Driftwood concluded, hanging his head with a frown. An instant later, green fire danced along his form as his disguise melted away.

Rarity looked back to the Guards, panic evident on her face. “It’s not what it looks like,” she said quickly. “I’m under no compulsion of any sort.”

“We know,” replied the Guard with the changeling-detector. The thing drifted away and back into the small holster at his side. “But all the same, please stand aside.”

For a moment, Rarity stared helplessly before her resolve solidified and she moved even closer to Driftwood, pressing against him and speaking only a single word: “No.”

The Guards were surprised somewhat less than Driftwood was. “Rarity?” he asked, confused as he looked to her for an explanation.

“Miss Rarity, I don’t know what you believe you’re doing, but you need to move aside. This changeling is under arrest and bound for Canterlot,” said the Guard again, as if hoping that might somehow dissuade her from further obstruction.

“Under arrest,” Rarity repeated acidly, not dissuaded in the least. “On what charge, exactly? What crime has he been accused of committing?”

“Miss Rarity, that is privileged information,” said the Guard whom, so far, had done all of the talking.

“It is not, and you know it’s not!”

Both Guards tensed and adopted wider stances with horns lowered at Rarity’s rather sudden outburst, and she had largely done the same. Driftwood tensed too, and shrank away a bit, surprised at how quickly the ‘proper lady’ he’d come to know had vanished. “You may not be Sheriffs, but you are still bound by law,” continued Rarity. “And the law is clear. It is a pony’s right to know the charges leveled against him when he is accused and arrested.”

“That is not a pony, Miss Rarity,” said the same Guard. Rarity was anything but amused.

“Suppose he was a donkey, then,” she said, lifting her head high and looking down her muzzle at the Guard as if he were wearing a tacky, if not especially offensive suit. “Or a griffon, or minotaur, or bull, or goat. They are not ponies, either. Would you deny them their right to hear the crimes they stood accused of?”

Neither Guard responded.

Emboldened, Rarity pressed harder. “Furthermore, Driftwood will not be going to Canterlot. He will be going to Ponyville. After all, I’m involved in this, and once that comes to light, he’ll be sent there in any case. Unless you gentlestallions know of a compelling reason why Princess Twilight Sparkle, who specializes in exactly this sort of circumstance, is incapable of handling it.”

“Rarity, please don’t,” Driftwood pleaded, eyes wide and voice desperate. “You’re making it worse for yourself. You don’t know what they’ll do to you.”

Driftwood’s protest, panicked though it was, died peacefully as Rarity gently pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth before she turned his head so that she could look him in the eye.

“Everything will be fine,” she said with a glowing smile, and without even needing to taste her sincerity, he believed her, the anxiety boiling in his chest cooling to a simmer.

“Ponyville, then,” said the Guard who had been otherwise quiet, rising up out of his aggressive stance. His compatriot immediately rounded on him.

“We have orders,” he stated angrily.

“Orders are to arrest and bring discovered changelings to Canterlot so that they can be questioned by a Princess,” replied the first Guard. “It does not matter which Princess, and Ponyville is closer in any case.” Pointedly ignoring the forming protest, he turned back to Rarity and Driftwood, who were surprised that it had, in fact, been that easy. “We are leaving in ten minutes, whether or not you have luggage prepared.”

Driftwood took a few minutes in his kitchen to empty the icebox — “Snacks for later,” he’d said — and ensure his lamp oil was well sealed while Rarity packed her things away, and did the same for her lover’s meager traveling possessions, all under the watchful eyes of both Guardsponies.

The four of them stepped outside, and once the door was secured and Driftwood had donned his disguise, they began walking down the beach with luggage in tow. Driftwood stopped after a few paces to look at his bungalow with worry. Once again Rarity pressed a gentle kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Everything will be fine,” she repeated, and once again he believed her.

With one final look at his home of many years, both pony and changeling, along with their escort, resumed their walk towards the train station.