//------------------------------// // Mhian chroí // Story: Courts of The Magi // by Airstream //------------------------------// “Well,” Cobblestone said with a sigh, “It’s not like I’ve been given an overabundance of options.” The room she was in was not as big as the one she’d had back in Starfall, for which she was glad. That room had been uncomfortably large, with high ceilings and wide expanses of floor that the massive fur rug on the floor had done little to cover. Everything about the room was big, from her bed to the massive wardrobe and the full-length mirror that was double the width it needed to be. It was as if that the room, and indeed every room in the castle, were made for ponies much bigger than she, and in more ways than height. This room was smaller, and a more spoiled pony would have called it cramped. Four plaster walls painted in rich golds and greens surrounded her in a comforting embrace, with a bed just her size and a wardrobe big enough for all of her things, with a bit of room to grow into it. A discrete door led to a bathroom, one with running water, which surprised her. Cobblestone had thought upon seeing the castle that there would still be a chamber-pot, and had all but assumed it after the chatty attendant escorting her to her new quarters had told her that the castle was well over a millennium old, the ancestral home of Princess Cadance herself. She had been told that dinner was in two hours, and declined the offer of assistance with her unpacking. Her bags had been unpacked and her clothes put away in perhaps half an hour, which left her ample time to examine all of the items in her room, which consisted of a large-ish bookshelf and a writing desk with a magelight overhead. After the inspection had concluded, she had come to the realization that she was going to be attending a formal dinner with a Princess of Equestria, one of the most powerful beings in existence. And she had exactly two things to wear. I’d recommend the blue one, Hob offered from his perch atop the wardrobe. You haven’t worn that one yet. “Libra said that the blue one was more of a dress for public events like garden parties and shopping,” Cobblestone said. “I didn’t even know there were dresses for shopping in. Maybe the mage robes again?” Absolutely not, Hob said. For one, they still reek from the trip. For another, this is Cadance’s house. Those robes are a symbol of allegiance to the pony who humiliated her and Celestia. Wearing those, especially without a rune to boast, will seem like a challenge. "I didn’t know you were up to date on courtly etiquette,” Cobblestone mused as she held up the green dress, and then the blue one, and then the green again. She glanced towards the wardrobe that held her other garments, wondering if she could get away with showing up to the banquet wearing nothing but her boots and cloak. Part of her wanted to so she could see the looks on the faces of the upper-crust ponies that would surely be there. Groaning, she tossed both of the dresses into the wardrobe, where they landed in an rumpled heap. “This is bullshit,” she groused. “What kind of game is Serale’s aunt playing? She knows we’ve been on the road for a week and a half, and that most of us are exhausted.” It’s not a test for you or the rest of the entourage, Hob said. It’s a test of how well Serale keeps herself poised in a difficult situation. She’ll be tested more than once while she’s here. “And more than once when we leave,” Cobblestone finished. “So she’s preparing Serale to face off against Celestia?” Hob stretched, bobbing his head in what could be construed as a nod while he did so. It’s less of a confrontation and more of a test of endurance, he replied, showing his teeth. Celestia’s court is a den of propriety, obfuscation, and intractable stubbornness. Serale’s going to need all the help she can get and the patience she can muster to make it through her time there. “Well, at least conniving runs in the family,” Cobblestone said moodily. “Lady Everstar’s a planner, that’s why we came out ahead in the war.” You have no idea. There was a sound at the door which resembled less of a knock and more along the lines of a gentle thudding. Cobblestone’s eyes lit up with excitement, and she flew to the door and threw it open to reveal a large mass of assorted fabric. The fabric moved itself, some sleeves and skirts falling away to reveal a put-upon looking Invictus, his back and hooves laden with dresses. Cobblestone moved to one side of the door with surprising alacrity, allowing the hulking pegasus entrance to the room. With a great heave, he managed to toss the pile of fabric onto the bed, leaving Cobblestone to stare at it, dumbfounded. “I know you only asked for one dress,” Invictus said, “But I found a maid and explained the situation, and she agreed to look for dresses that might fit you. I didn’t really expect her to find this many, or to insist I take them. She seemed very...eager to help.” Cobblestone eyed Invictus, managing to tear her gaze away from the pile of dresses. Miraculously, a spare uniform shirt and a pair of pants from one of the Mercy’s crew had been found in his size, though they did little more than contain his rippling form. He’d been scrubbed and roughly shaven, his mane tamed and tied back in a tail, which revealed a set of rough but pleasant features. In short, Invictus was an attractive male specimen. Cobblestone should have seen him for that, but instead, all she felt was a sense of affection, like she imagined she would for a brother. “I bet she was,” she said. “Be careful while we’re here, okay? I heard all kinds of rumors about this place while we flew here, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that mare wants a ‘favor’ in return sometime in the future.” Invictus looked taken back for a moment, and then intrigued. “I suppose, in hindsight, she was being rather forward,” he mused. “I would not mind, she is comely enough.” Cobblestone shook her head exasperatedly. “Well,” she said, shifting through the pile of clothes, “I suppose this gives me more options. Where did a maid get all of these, anyway?” “I did not ask,” Invictus replied, furrowing his brow. “Should I inquire?” “I think she might have just ransacked the room of a pony who wasn’t here,” Cobblestone said. “These are really good quality clothes. I could have sold one of these and kept myself warm and fed for a week or two at least.” She tossed aside a golden dress that seemed to be made mostly of ribbons. She didn’t relish the thought of getting into and out of such a garment. Gradually, in companionable silence, Cobblestone picked her way through the dresses. Most of the items were sized for ponies a good deal larger than her, with a wider chest and longer sleeves and skirts, but a few were more her size. Finally, she held up one dress that seemed to fit her. Lifting it over her head with her magic, she stepped into the garment, letting the skirts fall behind her. It was a deep wine red, made of what she thought might be velvet. The bodice on the front was made of a ruffled white fabric, bound with gold thread, but in a manageable amount. These threads drew back into a bow. Cobblestone, seized with a sudden impulse, drew her knife from the wardrobe. “Invictus, would you mind holding my hair up?” she asked. The pegasus did as she asked, and Cobblestone set to work. It took her perhaps five minutes, staring into the mirror. The cut was one of long practice, and one she was perhaps a little proud of. Her mane, shoulder length, vanished by inches, and instead of a long curtain of cascading chestnut, to be put up into yet another bun like every other pony she knew, it was instead cut into a sharp bob. Cobblestone worked the knife with skill, feathering a strand here and there, until it lay to her satisfaction. With another small effort, she placed the knife to one side and drew up the bow on the back of her dress, sweeping it for stray hairs as she did so. “How do I look?” she asked. Fair enough, Hob murmured. “Lovely,” Invictus said. “Short hair suits you.” Cobblestone smiled. “Good,” she said. “Now, let’s work on you. You’ve done this for me, I’d hate to see you show up to the dinner looking like you just rolled down a mountain. We’re supposed to make a good impression, after all.” The great hall of The Bower was a harkening back to a bygone age. It had been one of the few buildings kept as it had been found when Cadance had moved in at the conclusion of the Evening Rebellion, and its history was apparent in every aspect of its design. The ceilings were high, wooden rafters strung with banners depicting bygone houses presiding over long trestle tables, which rested on a floor of cold flagstones, giving the place a medieval air that could be found in very few other places. The windows were few and narrow, which meant the smoke from the roaring fireplace, that which did not go up the chimney, hung heavy in the air overhead. The lack of windows did, however, keep the room warmer than it might have been, and when the room was truly full, the air could become downright sweltering even in the depths of winter. The doors had just been opened, and ponies began to filter in, perhaps eighty all told. The vast majority of them wore the uniforms of Cadance’s personal guard, though there were ponies clad in the purple of the Kingdom among the blue-coated knights of the Northern March. Here and there were dotted ballgowns, though a surprising number of mares wore the blue as well, opting for a more professional look at this gathering of nations. Cobblestone, cat draped about her shoulders and with Invictus in tow, entered with the last ponies, not wishing to draw attention to herself. Small talk was something she was not looking forward to, especially in company like this. So, what brings you to the castle? She thought to herself. Oh, nothing much. I’m just a reformed felon that Lady Serale took a shine to. My hobbies are being stalked by faeries and avoiding death by necromancer. Do you like my cat? He’s not really a cat and I think he might eat ponies. You have nothing to prove that, Hob replied lazily. And keep your mental defences up in a place like this. Cadance’s court is lousy with Clerics. “Easy for you to say,” Cobblestone mumbled. “I haven’t had my potion today. This is the best I can do right now.” “If you want, I can go find Libra,” Invictus said. “I don’t know if she’s used to me, but I can at least ask her for you.” “It’s fine, I’ll manage,” Cobblestone replied. “I’ll just have a headache later, that’s all.” Invictus shuffled nervously. “May I go anyway?” he asked. “Ponies here are starting to stare, and I’m starting to get jumpy.” “Absolutely,” Cobblestone said. The last thing she wanted was for her companion to have a breakdown in the middle of a crowded dining hall, especially since he was still a very proficient warrior, even without his armor. “Do you want me to bring some food back?” Invictus shook his head quickly. “I ate yesterday,” he said. “I should be fine. I’ll see you after the feast.” “Try to stay out of trouble!” Cobblestone called as he cantered away nervously. And out of the maid staffs’ skirts, Hob added slyly. Cobblestone suppressed a snicker, hiding her mouth behind one hoof. It wasn’t fair of her, she supposed. Invictus couldn’t help his size or his looks, striking as they were. She only hoped that he’d find a way to avoid the attention he’d be attracting during their stay here, or find a way to discourage it entirely. She’d certainly feel embarrassed if she was in the same situation. A terrible thought occurred to her, and she glanced around the room. Thankfully, most of the gathered guests were talking amongst themselves already, but there were a few stragglers around the room, and several of them were looking her way. If she didn’t find something to do soon, she’d either end up talking to them or her cat. “I suppose you’re having the same problem I am,” a voice said from behind her. Cobblestone turned her head curiously, only to see Vino standing behind her. He grinned. “If you’re amenable, I think you and I should look for one another at these things. Neither of us are very good at starting conversations with others.” Cobblestone felt a wave of relief wash over her, but she held her composure. “For your information, I was having a perfectly wonderful conversation with Hob.” A conversationalist you are not. Quiet. “I was actually hoping to talk to your...friend? Companion?” Vino asked politely. “The big pegasus.” “Invictus?” Cobblestone asked. “He’s more of a…” She trailed off, trying to find a way to quantify her relationship with the Sunborn. “Hmm. I guess ‘blood-brother’ would be a good term? It’s complicated, I don’t really understand it yet.” Vino nodded his head sympathetically. “Fae magic, right? You hear stories. Are you both alright?” Cobblestone pursed her lips in thought. “We’re both a bit beat up, but we’ll manage. He doesn’t feel comfortable around large groups of ponies yet, so he left.” “So that makes three of us,” Vino said dryly. “I could think of a hundred things I’d rather be doing right now. How long are we supposed to be waiting here?” Cobblestone shrugged. “Until Princess Cadance arrives, I guess. All I know is she wanted to speak with Serale alone, and Libra escorted her to the Princess’s chambers when we first got here. If I had known I’d be spending time avoiding conversation with ponies, I’d have spent more time getting ready.” “I noticed you cut your mane,” Vino said. “It’s quite good. Did you do it yourself, or did Invictus?” Cobblestone flushed slightly. “I did it,” she replied. “Growing up, I didn’t have much in the way of barbers, so I learned how to keep my mane short. If it gets too long, somepony can grab it. The first few times I tried it, I ended up cutting most of my hair off. It looked pretty horrible.” “Well,” Vino said, “You seem to have gotten it right this time, at least.” “Thanks,” Cobblestone said dryly. “You look tolerable too.” It was Vino’s turn to flush. “I meant...you look nice,” he said with a stammer. “It looks good, really.” Cobblestone smirked. “Just busting your balls,” she said. “I knew what you meant.” Vino looked like he was about to choke, and Cobblestone barely managed to keep from bursting into laughing. “Relax,” she said, tapping his shoulder lightly with one hoof. “Serale was right. You’re fun to wind up.” “You and Lady Serale were talking about me?” Vino asked. “That’s..interesting. What else did she say?” Cobblestone’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Well,” she said with a grin, “She thinks that-” A bell chimed, a single tone that echoed throughout the hall, and the ponies within fell silent. The great door to the hall opened, and a young colt, dressed in a tabard bearing the mark of a crystalline heart, stepped through. “Mares and colts!” he announced in a high, clear voice. “Presenting her majesty, the Princess Cadance! Mistress of the Dawn, Protector of the Heart, Margravine of the Northern Mountains, and the Rising Sun! Accompanying her Highness is her ward, Lady Serale Armonia Everstar! Daughter of the Evening Sage, Heir to the Bronze Crown and the Oaken Throne! Hail, Princess and Lady!” “Hail!” the ponies called, back, kneeling as they did so. Cobblestone and Vino followed suit, though Cobblestone kept her gaze up to see Serale as she came in. She wasn’t disappointed. Princess Cadance had used her time wisely. Serale’s hair and neck dripped with jewels, a fitted dress clung to her in elegant waves of shimmering golden silk, and she looked freshly bathed and scrubbed up. She was a vision of beauty, the envy of any mare and the desire of any stallion. She looked like a scullery maid next to Cadance. Regal, poised, every hair in place and every feather preened, the Princess of Love stepped through the doors along with Serale and drew every eye effortlessly. Dressed in blue the color of a winter sky, hair adorned with roses, Cobblestone’s breath caught in her throat to see her, and she was reminded forcefully that she was in the presence of not just a Princess, but a goddess. “Please,” she said, in a voice that spoke to the heart of every pony present, “Rise. We’re not standing on ceremony tonight. It’s time to eat.” “Nothing like a good entrance,” Cadance remarked as she tucked into her potato roast. “I think you caught a few eyes yourself, Serale.” Serale snorted. “Like I’d be able to hold a candle to you on one of your bad days,” she said with good cheer. She’d been looking forward to dinner all day, she’d hardly eaten with all the preparing she needed to do. “True,” Cadance said simply. “But I get to play the unattainable goddess card, whereas you’re much more approachable.” “Low-hanging fruit,” Serale replied. “That’s me.” Cadance giggled. “It’s good to have you here, niece of mine,” she said. “I hope everything was a bit smoother on the second leg of your journey.” Serale grimaced. The topic hadn’t come up since she arrived. As soon as she’d greeted her aunt, she’d been whisked away by a gaggle of nattering maids, and after a seemingly interminable time buffeted back and forth, into and out of tubs and wardrobes, she’d found herself in this dress, face made up and hair done. She was still a little mystified as to how she’d gotten into the dress, as she had no clear memory of putting the dratted thing on. “As smooth as could be expected,” she said. “It was very kind of you to send a ship for us. We’re in your debt.” “Nonsense!” Cadance exclaimed, waving an airy hoof. “You’re an Equestrian in need of help, and more importantly, you’re family. What was I going to have you do, walk? Celestia knows you haven’t had much luck with trains.” Serale had never quite gotten used to the idea of swearing by Celestia. “I’d agree with you there,” she said. “But we’ve made it, finally. I’m looking forward to working with you and the other members of your Court in the coming weeks.” “Oh, we’ll get to it,” Cadance said dismissively. “But first, we need to do some catching up. How’re things with you and Twily?” Pet names for her mother were more familiar ground for Serale. “Mother’s doing fine and wishes you well in the coming year,” she said. “And even though I told her she wouldn’t have to worry about it, she made me swear to tell you not to try and make a match for me while I’m here.” “Your mother,” Cadance said before taking a sip of wine, “Is the biggest stick in the mud I’ve ever met. She always has been.” Serale sipped at her wine diplomatically, not wanting to say anything one way or the other. Cadance set down her goblet, looking out over the dining hall. “Wonderful,” she said. “I’m glad you’ve started your own Guard, at least. You’ll need it if you want to carve out your own piece of the world somewhere. Have you bedded any of them yet?” Serale sputtered, almost choking on her wine. “Really?” she managed after a moment of dabbing at her mouth with her napkin, much to her aunt’s amusement. “Is that all you ever think about, Aunt Cadance?” Cadance shrugged. “I follow the wisdom of the heart,” she said. “You grew up in the Everfree, so you’re still harder to read, but I know you’re getting to that point in your life. You’ll need to start looking for a good political match eventually, so it may as well be one you can trust and have some affection for. I could help you along, if that’s what you want.” “No magic!” she said quickly as Serale looked at her, eyes flashing dangerously. “I’d consider that cheating. Even when I help Celestia with her ‘projects’, it’s less spellcasting and more putting out positive energy. I meant advice, an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on.” Serale was silent for a moment, looking out over the diners below the table where they sat, each of them engaged in their own conversations. Even Libra, sitting below her and at her right hoof, was busy talking with an elderly unicorn in white robes, his graying beard coiled on the bench next to him. “Thank you, Aunt Cadance,” she said distantly. “But I think I’ll avoid searching for a spouse for now.” Cadance made an exasperated sound. “I’m not talking about somepony to produce little heirs with!” she exclaimed. “Listen to me, Serale. Your mother had the same problem when she was young. She spent too much time thinking with her head, and not enough time listening to her heart.” “If I recall my history lessons,” Serale said, “When she did finally listen to her heart, she met Celestia’s match for her.” “And later, she met Tarantella, whom I maintain was the only other pony your mother ever truly loved,” Cadance retorted. “But I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about going on a date. A walk in the garden, or a quiet conversation over a pot of tea. I’m glad you’ve made a friend, even though she is a bit...rough...around the edges, but a pony needs more than just friends at some point.” A longer silence passed between the two, this time broken by Cadance. “You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” she said. “You’re sixteen, for Celestia’s sake. Come on, who?” Serale’s mouth opened, and then closed. “I…” she said, flushing. She downed a cup of her wine. Almost unbidden, her gaze drifted across the room to a table near the far corner. Cadance followed her gaze and nodded appreciatively. “The knight,” she said. “I’ve heard about him. What’s his name?” “It’s not like that,” Serale said hurriedly. “Vino’s a good friend, nothing more.” “Nothing wrong with thinking about a friend that way,” Cadance replied evenly. “He does seem to be engaged, though. Isn’t that your fellow apprentice?” She peered closer and chuckled. “And she’s wearing an old gown of mine, one of the ones I gave away. Glad to see it’s getting some use!” Serale chose instead to mumble into her vegetable pie. “Relax,” Cadance said. “Your crush, or whatever you want to call it, is safe with me. If you ever want help with it, just let me know. If you do want to act on it, though,” she said, her voice thoughtful and perhaps a bit hungry, “I’d hurry. Some lucky mare is liable to snatch him from under you if you’re not careful.” Serale tore her eyes away from the table where Vino and Cobblestone sat, laughing and chatting like old friends. A hot emotion she couldn’t identify rose unchecked in her breast, and she realized with faint horror that the next few months were going to be long ones indeed.