Hotline Canterlot

Is there anything more splendid than a week in Canterlot? Perhaps a world-renowned fashion label buying six of your latest formal wear designs and showcasing them at the annual fashion expo. However, the two aren't mutually exclusive. I should know; both were happening to me! I've been stuck in that stuffy design studio of mine for far too long. I was simply looking for an excuse to take a quick reprieve from the slow-paced life of Ponyville, but I just couldn't justify the cost of a vacation. Believe it or not, there are not that many ponies in my town that are in need of fabulous designer clothing.

This, however, was a business trip as well as a personal vacation. It couldn't have come at a better time. Sure, I'll miss the girls, but if the not-at-all-unexpected going-away party was anything to go by, they would be missing me, too. I would have had Spike come along to help me with my bags, but I was assured by the label that I would have a limo waiting at the train station to take me to the hotel.

Which hotel, you ask? Why, only the most exclusive, fashionable and desirable address besides the palace itself: the Ritz Canterlot! It's hosted kings and queens, princes and princesses, prime ministers and presidents! And now it would host the up-and-coming queen of the fashion world! After my friends saw me off at the train station, I was well on my way.

I had a car all to myself on the train, which I of course needed to bring all my designs and formal wear. After all, a fashion show is not just the singular event of models on runways. It is the pre-party, the after-party, the after-after-party, and of course the meet-and-greets with the heads of the fashion empires looking for the next hot, young designer to catapult into the spotlight. And I will be that hot, young designer.

The train ride was a familiar one. Dull scenery I hardly noticed anymore zipping past as I sipped on the complimentary champagne provided by the label. You would think that as an Element of Harmony, I would get this kind of treatment all the time. Suffice to say the 'but what have you done for me lately?' attitude is much more pervasive that one would think. Anyway, I was beyond ready to check in to the hotel. There is a reason for this, too. The room reserved for me by the label was, in fact, the royal suite. One of only two in the entire city! It had everything anypony could possibly want in a room. It was like a small apartment, complete with two king-size beds. I could sleep in a different bed each night if I wanted. How opulent! It even had a hot tub. Indoors! The very memory is giving me the vapors!

Once my third glass was empty, the train had arrived in Canterlot. The porters removed my bags, and the chauffeur loaded them into the limo. I certainly do not envy the bellhops that had to get those to the top floor. Anyway, I hurried into the limo, and before I knew it, we were off to the hotel. The glamour of downtown Canterlot during fashion week was certainly something to behold. So many well-dressed ponies. And soon they'd be even more well-dressed, because I will have dressed them. Not personally, of course, but you get the idea. The ensemble I wore that day made me easily mistakable for Audrey Hoofburn. I mean, if she wasn't dead. I tilted my sunglasses onto my forehead and marveled at the height of the Canterlot Ritz. It may have been the tallest building in the city besides the palace. International flags of all kinds fluttered in the afternoon breeze outside as the limo pulled beneath the awning. The bellhops hustled to the trunk and loaded my luggage onto the waiting carts.

I approached the front desk, where the employee greeted me warmly. "Welcome to the Ritz Canterlot. Will you be checking in with us this evening?"

"Yes, a room under 'Rarity'.

A quick flip through their log book, and she slid me a polished key in exchange for my signature. But there was a catch. As there always seemed to be...

"Uhm... Ms. Rarity, the financier of your stay has insisted that you have some added security in your room." It sounds innocuous enough doesn't it? Little did I realize...

"Of course. But why? Am I in some sort of danger?" I mean, the fashion world could be fiercely competitive, but generally never on the level of violence.

"Actually ma'am, it was by order of the Princess. Since you are an Element of Harmony, she didn't want to take any chances. Our director of security has been informed of her wishes, and he would be happy to tell you more about the program."

She motioned behind me, and a rather large unicorn stallion in a tasteful blue blazer and matching tie trotted towards me. Not exactly a daring ensemble, and certainly expected for prestigious hotel like this. "I'm Security Director Brinks. Welcome to the Ritz Canterlot, Ms. Rarity. It's an honor to host an Element of Harmony." He raised my hoof in his. I must admit, he was a rather dashing stallion. His dark-brown coat and piercing, green eyes were certainly not working against him. And that voice! Smooth as melted chocolate.

"Thank you, Mr. Brinks. What is this about added security to my room?" I asked, playing down the blush on my cheeks. It was a bit odd that Princess Celestia would care about my security now after sending the girls and me into far more perilous situations. But decrees are decrees.

"At the behest of the Princess, we have taken extra precautions to make sure all of our guests in town for fashion week have nothing to worry about." His tone put me at ease. He certainly knew how to quell a mare's racing heart. "We'll have your own personal bodyguard posted in your room at all times."

That was a little bit unsettling. "In my room? Don't you think that's a bit intrusive?"

He nodded. "Unfortunately, it was by royal decree, so we must insist. However, if you wish for her to remain out of sight while you are in the room, she has been ordered to confine herself to the guest bedroom and only interact with you when it's absolutely necessary."

"Her?" I asked. Not that it was unsual for a female to perform such roles, but it was still not par for the course as far as protection was concerned. After all, the royal guards are almost exclusively male.

"Yes, she is one of the best on staff. She's a new hire, but she set more than a few training records during her orientation." I batted my eyelashes a bit. I'm not ashamed to admit it.

"Well then, if you trust her, I trust her."

"I do. Can I show you to your room?" he asked. Not that he had to.

"Of course." I was admittedly a bit too eager in my reply, but I managed to pull myself back as we got to the elevator. A lady never appears overeager.

"I have a feeling you'll love the royal suite. The housekeepers spend extra time making sure every inch is spotless." The lift quickly whisked us to the fifteenth floor.

"Oh, I'm sure I will."

I recall thinking that perhaps this wouldn't be so bad. After all, it would be a tad inappropriate to put a strange stallion in my room at all times. Perhaps I would grow to like her? Perhaps we would stay friends and exchange letters once I make my millions? Maybe I would even hire her as a regular bodyguard. My mind was aflutter with all the wild possibilities one would consider when one's head begins to swim on free champagne.

As we reached the end of the hallway, the magnificent double doors beckoned me, as if to say, 'Rarity, your home away from home awaits!'

I unlocked the door and stepped inside. It was everything I'd imagined and more. The hot tub in the living room had a marble foundation, the view of Canterlot was simply gorgeous, and not a single speck of dust resided in any corner or crevice.

"Now, time for you to meet your escort for the duration of your stay," Brinks said, reaching into his jacket and retrieving a small bell. After it rang, what entered the living room from the guest bedroom was the stuff of nightmares.

"You've got to be kidding me."

So yeah, I had some pretty hard luck the past few months. For starters, my oldest pal chose her stupid, dweeb new friends over me just because the pink one was being super clingy. I mean, I come all the way from Griflandia to hang out with her, and some chick I don't even know keeps getting in our business, and on top of that, Dash picks them over me!

Whatever, screw her. She was never on my level of flying skill anyway... I didn't need her. I didn't need anyone. I never have. She was just a passing friend, obviously. A passing friend for seven years... Anyway, after I ditched that whole lame Ponyville scene, I decided to head to Canterlot. They say anyone can make it there, as long as you have the guts. And I've got 'em. It was just rough goin' for the first couple of weeks. I held down a few odd jobs, but nothing that could even rent me an apartment in the crappiest part of the city. Maybe they just didn't want to rent to a griffon. It is a city full of ponies, after all. But it might've also had to do with me not having a lot of money. I finally found a place, but it was a wreck. I knew I couldn't stay there long. I've heard of the phrase 'come from nothing', but this was less than nothing. The apartment didn't even have a bathroom.

I searched the want ads every day. I didn't have any higher learning, not that I would have even if I could afford it. College is for nerds. All I had was my flight school diploma. I was getting desperate. I was really considering moving back in with my parents in Griflandia when I ran across an ad for security at the Ritz Canterlot. I'd been by it a few times before. There's a cheap bagel stand on the corner down the street that I've been to a time or two when I'm in the neighborhood. Anyway, the pay wasn't much, and I was about to move on, when I noticed the job offered free room and board.

I wrote down the address, made sure my fur and feathers were clean, and rushed down there. Good thing I was the fastest griffon in this town, or some other jerk might've snatched it out from under me. I got there, and a unicorn guy in a suit explained the job. He said most of the time I'd be living in the guard housing behind the hotel, but when I'm assigned to a V.I.P. I'd get to stay in their suite! How cool was that? Before he gave me the job, he wanted me to demonstrate my fight training. I told him I really didn't have much.

I mean, I could probably hold my own in a scrap, but I've never really had to.

But he said that didn't matter, and that he'd train me himself. I'm not sure how a pony could train a griffon in combat, but he was signing my paycheck, so I didn't ask questions. In about a month, I was the toughest guard there was! Turns out, I'm a natural at not just fighting, but disarming, subduing, and general ass-kicking. Before long, I was getting calls to protect the fanciest of fancy. Ambassadors, celebrities, anyone you could think of with a ton of money that stayed at the hotel was under my watch most of the time. All in all, a pretty sweet gig. Most of the clients were pretty cool. Except for one.

The day I met her started like any other. Exercise at sunrise, then breakfast, then check the schedule to see if a new assignment had come for me yet. I wasn't the only guard at the hotel, after all. I had to leave some work for the other guys. Anyway, I saw I had a new mark and headed to the director's office to get my briefing packet. I thought I recognized the name from somewhere, and the picture looked kind of familiar. I shrugged it off and started to study the floor plans of her room. It had been a while since I had anyone in the royal suite. This chick must've been a high-roller.

Usually we wait outside the room for the V.I.P. to arrive, but this time, they wanted me inside. Kinda weird, but protocol changes all the time, so it was no big deal. I was told to prepare my room and wait for the director's bell. It was kinda degrading to be called by a bell like a cat or something, but whatever, a paycheck's a paycheck.

So, I'm setting up in the room when I hear the bell. I step out of the room, and who do I see but that prissy unicorn from Ponyville. That's where I recognized her! One of Dash's friends she abandoned me for. This assignment was gonna be a bitch. I could already tell.

Bonfire of the Rarities

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Bonfire of the Rarities

"Ms. Rarity, this is our top agent, Gilda." He seemed confused, as anypony unaware of the... history between the two of us would be. "Are you okay?"

No. Most certainly not! I was supposed to share my living space and entrust my life to this, this... brute? This ruffian? No, this would not stand.

"No, this simply will not do." I was quite firm in my insistence. This griffon had been simply horrid to all of my friends, and I would not have her within fifty yards of me. "I must insist you find another agent to look after me."

He shifted on his hooves. "I'm sorry that this is not to your liking, Ms. Rarity, but there are no more agents available. I'm afraid they've all already been assigned."

I couldn't believe this. How am I supposed to sleep soundly at night knowing someone who doesn't care about me in the slightest is supposed to be keeping me from harm? "Then switch her with somepony else!"

"Oh, so this is about me not being a pony?" Griffons were always so quick to play the race card.

"Agent Gilda, that's enough!"

"Sorry, sir." At least she'd apparently had some obedience training.

"I do apologize, Ms. Rarity, but you cannot be without escort, and the agents plan weeks in advance for your arrival. I assure you, Gilda will be professional in every aspect of her assignment." He turned to her and narrowed his eyes. "Won't you, Gilda?"

Her expression was blank, but the slight twitch of her right eyelid told me how she truly felt. She'd probably be the one to try and put a knife in my neck. I would do well to keep an eye on her.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now then, if you ever need Gilda's help, you may ring this bell." He gave me the one he had rung to bring her from her room. If she was truly bound by her job to protect me, then perhaps this would not be so bad after all. "If you have any problems, don't hesitate to call me at the front desk."

"Very well." I sighed. "I suppose it could have been worse. I could have a manticore living in my room."

"Do enjoy your stay," he said before leaving the room. I almost expected her to lunge at me right then and there. Nothing a little magic wouldn't stop, mind you. I may not be as powerful as Twilight, but that doesn't mean I'm a slouch in the field of magical self-defense. A lady always stands ready to defend her own honor.

"Well then, since you'll be working for me, I'll expect you in your room. I'm not to see you while I'm working, and you are not to see anything I'm working on; my designs are top secret." You have to set down the rules and let them know that breaking them will not be tolerated.

"Pfft, like I care about your stupid dresses," she grunted, folding her arms. "It's you I have to keep alive, not your dumb clothes."

How dare she be so insolent! What Brinks sees in this braying animal, I have no idea!

"You are working for me now, and you'll do as I say." I certainly knew of one way to make sure I kept Gilda on a tight leash. "Or will I have to tell Brinks how unsafe I feel around you?"

There was the scowl that made poor Fluttershy cry. I knew it was hiding just beneath the surface, waiting for her boss to leave the room. She turned quickly and slammed the door to her bedroom.

Gah! If this job wasn't all I had right now I'd toss her out the window myself! Who does she think she is, ordering me around like that? Yeah, it may be my job, but that doesn't mean I have to like it!

I had to take a breather. I'd end up putting my fist through the wall if I didn't. Maybe do some push ups to release my stress. It usually helps. A few sets later, and I was calm... er.

Like I said before, most of my marks are really nice. Cool, even. But the ones that aren't are such stuck-up assholes that I have to stop myself from pushing them into traffic. Rarity fell right into that category. Directly into it.

It's only for a week. If I could put up with a spoiled Saddle Arabian prince making a pass at me every other minute without breaking his leg, I could deal with a dress designer.

It was just gonna take some patience. A lot of patience. Something I don't really have to spare in the first place. Thankfully, I didn't have to follow her around unless she wanted me to. And judging by our introduction, I'd be willing to bet she didn't. Just as well, fashion week is stupid. A bunch of wafer-thin models dressed like they stepped on a land mine in an alcoholic exotic dancer's prop closet. The only good thing was the free booze, which I would have to be careful about, because technically I wasn't supposed to drink on the job.

I bet none of the other guards got assigned someone who was this much of a tightwad. I hopped onto the bed and tried to relax. I had to admit, this bed was way better than the one I slept on in the guard barracks. Living with the V.I.P.s was easily the best part of the job. Everything was comped, and for the most part, it was a snore-fest. Truth is, no one ever wanted to hurt these rich snobs. They just thought they did. Sure, some folks are probably jealous of their money, but killing them isn't gonna get those poor fools any richer.

I was about to doze off when I heard that damn bell. Screw Brinks for giving her that freaking thing. I knew from the moment he handed it over she would abuse it. This must be some kind of punishment.

Why I even needed a bodyguard was still a mystery. Although I've never been one to question Celestia's judgment. As I began unpacking my things, I recalled all the terrible things Gilda had said to us. I mean, Gilda setting off all of Pinkie and Dash's pranks wasn't intentional. At least, I don't think it was.

Then again, there's really no telling with Pinkie...

Still, it does not justify coming into our town and acting like a brute. I simply can't believe Rainbow Dash would ever associate with someone so crass. Now I have to spend nearly a week with her. Ugh, perhaps I've angered Celestia in some way? After all, she'd sent her own sister to the moon for a thousand years. Who knows what she'd do to someone who isn't even her own flesh and blood.

I had to calm down. After all, that probably wasn't the case. If there was a credible threat, Celestia would do all she could to keep everypony safe. She and her sister would even be in attendance for some of the larger fashion shows this week, so I assumed the heightened security was normal.

I assembled my forms and set my designs on them. They'd each survived the ride wrinkle-free, and thankfully nothing had been damaged by their brief stint in the cargo hold of the train. I retrieved my notebook with my itinerary written on it.

The first event was a relatively minor fashion show, but it was said to be held by the one of the "known unknowns" of the fashion world. One of those designers that only the truly vogue knew of and adored, though they don't promote the work, as mainstreaming his designs would simply ruin his future aspects. One cannot simply be thrust into the spotlight after making their first fall line. It takes refinement. I mean, no one wants the designs to become just another fad; they want names with staying power.

Calfen Klein, Coco Marenel, names that stuck in the fashion world for decades after their first hit. That's the dream, and I would have it this time. I just knew it. Unfortunately, I would have to bring that... guard of mine with me. Honestly, what kind of criminal would target the fashion industry? What have we ever done to anypony?

Before I knew it, the clock had struck six, and it was time to leave if I was to arrive fashionably late. I had already donned a stunning evening gown, and I could only pray Gilda had some semblance of formal attire in that room she'd commandeered. I was about to knock on the door, when I remembered the bell. Why have it if you aren't going to use it?

Perhaps I enjoyed the tinkling of that bell a bit too much. She appeared from her cave and growled a "what" in my direction.

"It's almost time for my first gala."

"And?" she answered plainly.

"You are my bodyguard, and you will accompany me, but you will stay aloof enough so that no one associates me with... you."

She rubbed her eyes with a claw. "Fine, let's go."

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "You honestly don't think you're going to walk into a fashion show without clothes on, do you?" It was as though I had asked her to model the clothes herself. Not even the most chic outfit could make the constant scowl she wore attractive. After all, who would have thought you'd wear clothes to a fashion show?

"What for? I'm not the one modeling clothes." The joke was there. I absolutely could have made it. It would have been perfect. But in the interest of her actually stopping a crazed maniac instead of just letting him make me into a "Rarity suit" in his basement, I let it go.

"It is a formal event. You need formal attire. Tell me you have something back there that's passable as formal."

"Give me a sec," she grunted. I suppose forty-five minutes late is just as good as thirty.

It's a formal event. You need formal attire. Who the hell does she think she is, hissing at me like that? If we were back in Griflandia, I'd have her plucked by now! I had the cure for this. I may not be able to drink at that stupid fashion party, but I could sure take the edge off now. I keep a flask in my nightstand. Honestly, it never saw much action except in cases like this.

Now that I was a little more tolerant, I had to put on clothes. Ugh, such a pain in the primaries. Where I'm from, only the rich wear clothes. Clothes are for pansies; our feathers and hides are tough enough. I sat down in the chair beside my bed and rubbed my eyes. I kept repeating the mantra I'd adopted whenever I got assigned to guard a real pain.

"I need this job, I need this job."

And I was right. I always am. I absolutely needed this job. I doubted someone like me would find a sweeter deal than this one. So I sucked in my chest, buried my feelings and put on my jacket. They actually do give us fancy clothes for this kind of thing. I just hated wearing them.

I grabbed my dagger and set it inside my coat pocket. A bodyguard is only as good as the weapon they carry, after all. Yeah, I got talons, but these snooty types don't like that kinda thing, so I had to keep them filed. I checked myself over in the mirror, whispered my mantra one more time, and opened the door. She was sitting on the end of the bed, filing her hooves. Typical.

She flicked her eyes up at me like I was a child trying to dress herself for a dinner party.

"Oh, you're wearing that?"

I need this job, I need this job.

"Take it or leave it, princess."

"Very well." She turned to the door. "Let's be off, then."

The hotel wasn't far from where this thing was being held. I had a copy of Rarity's itinerary, and some of the other agents and I had a chance to sweep this place for ingress and egress points, bottlenecks, and all other kind of important stuff we'd need to know about in case something went down. Nothing ever has, but still, it's part of the job.

Fashion types have weird taste, if that wasn't obvious by now. The venue was an old warehouse, but they didn't bother to move any of the rusty machines or junk off the floor. They just built a runway and set out some chairs. If I wanted to hang out in an abandoned warehouse with a bunch of ponies in mesh shirts, I could've just tried out as an extra in a hair-metal band video. Anyway, the only redeeming quality about this whole trip was that some of my guard buddies would be there. Pretty much the entire company got assigned to one snooty fashion type or another.

Technically, I had to "ensure the well being of the client at all times," but that didn't mean I had to be up her flank all night. I took a post by the bar, making sure I could keep an eye on her but stay away from her at the same time. All the other guards were actually pretty close to their marks. Lucky diamond dogs. I, of course, get stuck with the one pony out of the thousands here that I already hate.

Whatever. It's just a week. I can outlast her. She'll get sick of dragging me around before I get sick of her.

Some of the ponies she was talking to were getting awfully close. Not that I really had much to worry about. All of the ponies on the guest list have had their backgrounds checked, and were screened by club security. Though there's no telling how well trained the bouncers were.

Mercifully, the lights dimmed, and the ponies took their seats beside the runway. I could still see Rarity from the bar, so I decided I could just hang back and maybe sneak a beer or something while I waited for this nonsense to be over with.

The models started their walks, and I gotta admit, I almost felt sorry for them. They looked absolutely ridiculous. I hope they get paid a ton of money to humiliate themselves like that. Anyway, I decided to hold off on the beer. Something didn't feel right. It was like there was a tension in the air, but no one except me was tense. All the other guards were relaxed by their marks, except me. About halfway through the show, the fire alarm went off. Let me tell ya, for an old building, the alarm worked just fine. My ears were ringing as the second half of the alarm leaked from the ceiling. Slowly at first, then like a waterfall off the roof. If I had to guess, I'd say the water in the sprinkler system had been sitting there a long time. It reeked when it came out—and it was brown. Needless to say, the crowd panicked, and most of the guards were busy trying to get their marks out safely.

Except for me, because I wasn't near mine. The ceiling was too low to fly, so I had to fight my way through the crowd to try and find Rarity. I finally saw her mane from a distance and started toward her. When I made it about halfway there, I heard a scream. Between Rarity and me, some stallion had collapsed. As the crowd gave him some room, I saw a crossbow bolt sticking out of his back. It was the first time I'd ever actually seen something like that. I could understand why some folks froze up in stressful situations. I mean, you see it all the time in movies and stuff, but to actually see someone take a hit, to see the blood on the floor... it's almost like a dream. I know it sounds cliche, but when something like this goes down, you really do start to see things in slow motion. Most of the crowd either shoved each other to get away or just froze. It was chaos in there, but I finally managed to get to Rarity. She was just staring dumbly at the guy as he moaned on the ground.

"Let's go, princess!" I yanked her back into reality and pulled her toward a side exit. An ambulance was parked outside after we made it out, and I saw the guy being wheeled into the back of it. They must have had it on standby or something.

Every one of those fashion types got soaked in nasty water. I didn't get out smelling like guest room soap, either. Turns out, the building wasn't actually on fire. Someone just pulled the alarm to incite panic. Mission accomplished.

Once Rarity snapped out of her daze, she started talking all types of nonsense.

"Just where in Celestia's name were you? That could've been me!"

I had to stop myself from scoffing. "Please, who would want to hurt you?"

"Who would want to hurt Hoity Toity?"

I could see she didn't actually want an answer to that.

"I was standing right next to him!" she snapped.

"Look, unless you saw who shot him, there was nothing I could have done. Whoever his guard was slipped up, not me."

"Well, maybe I should just tell director Brinks about how your cavalier attitude nearly got me killed!"

I need this job, I need this job.

"Look, I'm sorry, but you told me to stay... aloft or whatever, and that's what I did! You want me to protect you, then I can't be twenty yards away."

She glared at me before wringing the water out of her mane. I love being right. "Fine, next time I expect you'll take that crossbow bolt."

"Don't hold your breath." I thought I mumbled that. Apparently, I didn't.

"Excuse me? I am covered in filth and my dress is most likely ruined thanks to your loafing." I had to hand it to her, she had practiced her whining voice.

"It was just a joke, your highness." She stomped a few times and started back towards the hotel. This was gonna be a long week.

I can't believe that so-called bodyguard almost let me get killed. I knew I should have just hopped the train back to Ponyville the moment I saw her face! I was soaked in the most foul-smelling liquid imaginable, and my dress was ruined. I wasn't even sure a thorough dry cleaning could save it. Luckily, I made it to my room without anypony recognizing me.

I closed the door and put my formerly beautiful evening wear in a plastic bag to have it laundered. It pained me to do so, but I couldn't stand the smell anymore. As soon as I was out of those wet clothes, I simply had to shower. While showering, I thought I heard a knock at the door, but shrugged it off. After all, housekeeping could come back later. Once I'd stepped out, I realized it was either an oddly persistent housekeeper, or Gilda had been locked out of the room. Some guard she is.

I opened the door with some quick magic. The hideous brown water had dried on her jacket, and her feathers were simply caked with that wretched fluid. "Do you not have a key?"

"No, it was in my room."

"And you don't think it wise to always have a key to your charge's room on you?" I swear, I could do her job better than she could.

"I didn't count on you storming off like a brat."

"How dare you!" I strode toward the phone and picked up the receiver. "Hello, this is Rarity, I would like to speak with—"

"Okay, I'm sorry!"

That was more like it. "Never mind." I hung up the phone and sat on the bed. It was quite late, and I was in need of rest. The events of the day had left quite the disturbing impression. "I'll be fine for the night, you may spend the rest of the evening however you want." Perhaps if Gilda started showing a bit of professionalism, I might allow her some leeway. After all, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Though why anyone would want to catch flies is beyond me.

She went back to her room and didn't appear again that night. I would have thought she would want to go... do whatever it is ruffians do in their free time. Spend time with other ruffians, I suppose. However, she did nothing of the sort. I soaked in the tub for a bit before retiring to the bed.

This was going to be a long week.

Gilda's Inferno

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Gilda's Inferno

Maybe I should have pushed her in front of that bolt! Ugh, I can't believe I'm stuck with her for five more days. It's okay. All I need is a shower, and I'll cool off, I thought.

Needless to say, a shower didn't cut it. I was just as pissed as I had been, but at least I didn't smell like ass. I stuffed my nasty jacket into a laundry bag and sent it down the chute. I'm definitely not jealous of the housekeeper that had to clean it. I shook the water out of my feathers and sat on my bed. To be honest, I was torn. Half of me was pissed because I nearly let my mark catch a bolt to the chest. The other half of me was pissed because the guy firing it had missed her. It was a weird feeling.

I didn't know whether or not he was actually going for her, but I did know that I was gonna have to stick to her like glue after something like that. Director Brinks trusted me, and I'm not gonna betray that trust. Also, if the head alicorn herself said this prissy unicorn needed protection, then I would give it to her. After all, she'd sent her own sister to the moon for a thousand years. No telling what she would do to someone that's not even one of her "little ponies" or whatever.

Thankfully, it was well past midnight, and I wouldn't have to worry about listening for that bell anymore. I laid down on my bed and spread my wings. I hadn't used them all day, but I'll be damned if they weren't tired. This was the toughest assignment yet. I mean, it'd be one thing if I had to protect Dash or someone I actually gave a crap about, but her? Bleh, I couldn't care less what happens. But it's my job to care, and I love a paycheck a lot more than I hate snobby fashion types.

Besides, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. All I'd have to do is keep an eye out for crossbow-wielding lunatics. Although, the first one was pretty hard to spot... but screw that. I was the best bodyguard out of all of those washouts! If anyone could protect a pony from an assassin with piss-poor aim, it was me.

I glanced at my clock on the nightstand. It was already one in the morning. If I was gonna follow Rarity around Canterlot tomorrow, I needed to get some rest.

The bubbles of the hot tub were certainly a welcome feeling against my aching hooves. After all, it's not every day that a lady has to run from danger while her slack-jawed gawker of a bodyguard stands there listlessly as an assassin tries to end her life. I suppose she eventually got me to safety, but after how long? I was left to panic near a bleeding Hoity Toity before she finally showed up. And on top of that, she allowed me to get covered in filth!

I don't suppose there was any way she could have known the fire alarm was going to go off, but still. I didn't design almost-award-winning dresses just to be doused in foul-smelling water.

Thankfully, the hotel staff had given me a complimentary bottle of champagne I had yet to open. A quick chilling spell and the bottle became frosted with a coat of ice. I'm sure they set out flutes for the champagne, but I'm also sure I was far too tired to search for them. No one was here to judge me if I drank from the bottle, anyway. The view from my room was simply magnificent, but even spectacular heights couldn't distract me from what I'd seen earlier that day. Who would want to hurt Hoity Toity? Who would want to hurt any fashion icon? Sure, they decide if a certain fabric, pattern, or wardrobe is out of style, but is that any reason to make an attempt on somepony's life?

The most unsettling thing about the whole ordeal was that the assailant was still on the loose! Who knows what could have set that crazed individual off? What if he's targeting the fashion industry? What if I'm next? I shook such horrid thoughts from my head. There could be no room for such ideas if I was going to present my designs at the pre-show brunch tomorrow morning.

The more I tried to forget about it, the more I remembered the commotion, the panic, and the horrible image of Hoity on the floor. He was still conscious when they took him to the hospital, so hopefully he would be fine.

Suddenly the relaxation the hot tub normally afforded me was nowhere to be found. I climbed out and covered myself in the complementary bathrobe. I wanted to blame Gilda, but I knew I couldn't. I told her to stay aloof, and true to her word, she did just that. Besides, it looked like I was going to need her, whether I liked it or not. I climbed into bed, but sleep did not come easy. I drew the rest of the champagne to my bedside table. I'd get to sleep one way or another.

I had already burned through my morning workout by the time Her Highness decided to wake up. I had also already gone down to the chow hall for my breakfast. Employees have separate stuff from the guests. I guess it's not professional or something to have everyone eat in the same place. I had been quiet leaving the room, but by the time I got back, I didn't bother. Besides, if she was going to be ready to go to the next dumb fashion thing, she should have already been awake.

I walked in on her trying to decide which clown suit she would wear to our next event. I had just taken the elevator from the gym—I hadn't even showered off. Needless to say, I was kinda ripe. The face she made when she saw me with a sweaty gym towel over my shoulder was almost enough to make me leave and walk back in again. I had half a mind to fling my towel across her clothes rack, but like I've been saying since all this started: I needed this job.

"Ugh, I can smell you from here!" She turned her nose up. Come to think of it, that was pretty much the only way I saw her.

She started looking me over as I made my way to my room—like she was expecting something. "Something I can do for you, princess?" I couldn't openly mock her, but I could ratchet up my sarcasm a little.

"You didn't bring up my breakfast from the kitchen?" She sounded honestly upset.

"Hell, no. I'm your bodyguard, not your butler."

She scrunched her nose at me as I tossed my towel into the bathroom hamper. If I didn't think she'd have Director Brinks up here in a heartbeat, I would've tossed it on her head. She picked up the phone and called room service while I showered. Since my only jacket was soaked in filth, I had to go in my fur and feathers, which was fine by me. I'm not sure what 'brunch' is, but I could only hope it wouldn't be as boring as that fashion show.

Well, I guess it was only boring for the first hour.

Anyway, as I was toweling off, I could hear Rarity through the door.

"Forty-five minutes? For a plate of crepes? No, never mind."

I straightened my feathers and stepped out of my room. Thankfully she had picked a dress by then. Before she opened her mouth, I knew what she was going to say. "Tell me you have another jacket."

"Nope." I had to fight the urge to smirk. I wanted to so bad. "It won't be ready until tonight."

She rolled her eyes. I should have been used to that by now. "Fine. Luckily for you, brunch is informal." She stepped towards the door, levitating a puffy hat onto her head that matched her dress—I think it did, anyway. I don't know about this kind of junk. "Come along, now. Brunch is nothing to be fashionably late for."

There aren't words in Equestrian or Avian to express how tired I was of that tone she kept using. It reminded me of the one my mom used to use when she shopped me around to fancy private flight schools. Condescending as all get-out.

I followed her outside, sure to take a key this time along with my dagger. Wings can be used for storage as well as flight. Not many non-griffons realize that.

Anyway, we get to the elevator, and start the ride down. Talon to Syrell, nothing is more awkward than a long elevator ride. We stepped into the hallway for what I expected to be more silence until she spoke up.

"Have you heard anything about Hoity?" she asked. She'd dropped the attitude, and that was a start. Turns out, my buddy Flint knew a little bit more about him. We shot the breeze at breakfast, and it came up.

"Yeah. Nothing vital got hit. He's pretty lucky."

She nodded, pinning a stray strand of mane behind a hairpin. "That's good to hear. I don't suppose he identified his attacker?"

"Not that I know of, but I'm not a cop."

Her change in tone was pretty out-of-the-blue, but I remember thinking: "Maybe I outlasted her attitude?" After all, nobody can be a bitch forever, right? We stood on the curb for a few seconds before she turned to me. "Are you going to call me a cab or just stand there?"

Well, maybe some ponies could.

The brunch was to be held at a very chic diner. So chic in fact, that it didn't have a name. It was just 'the diner.' It was booked months in advance most of the year, but it made an exception for fashion week. The label secured a place for me, and it was certain to be filled with fashion moguls! In fact, I was due to meet my sponsor there. I had met him once before in Canterlot while on delivery a few months back. Since then, we had kept up a correspondence through the mail, but I was looking forward to meeting him to finalize the designs of my upcoming fall line.

We arrived and were seated at a long table, a veritable 'who's who' of the fashion world! Gilda and I took our reserved seats as I made conversation with a model I recognized from the night before. As to be expected, Gilda was not sociable, but that didn't mean I couldn't network a bit. The seat next to me at the head of the table was empty, but it didn't take long to find out who it had been reserved for.

Avant Garde, the latest fashion industry player strode in, his fitted suit matching his perfectly coiffed mane. He smelled of freshly picked cherries and carried himself in a way I had that seemed oddly familiar. I didn't have to look beside me to know Gilda was more than likely wearing the same scowl she'd worn at last night's fashion event.

"Rarity, you look as lovely as the first time I laid eyes on you." He raised my hoof and kissed it gently. Always a gentlecolt!

"Thank you, darling." They brought us our food after about our fourth or fifth mimosa. That's the thing about brunch. It's just an excuse for rich people to drink in the morning. However, I must admit champagne went better with omelets than I'd suspected. Once we'd all eaten, Avant raised his fork and clanged it against his glass. The dull murmurs in the room died down as he stood up.

"Ladies and gentlecolts, Avant fashions may be the newest, hottest label out of Manehattan, but I know raw, undiscovered talent when I see it." I could already feel myself blushing. I try to be as humble as possible, but come now! This is my element! I could stand to be a bit egotistical. "And that new talent comes to us from even the most backwater of towns! Fellow trendsetters, I have lobbied the fashion week committee to showcase her fall line at the closing show!"

I was expecting good news, but this! I knew I was going to have the chance to show Avant some of my pieces, but I'd never expected them to be worn by actual models! Designers work for years and don't get their work entered into the final show! As my head swam in the possibilities, Avant turned to me and raised his glass. "To you, my dear."

This was it! This is exactly the outcome I had hoped for, and now it was a sure thing! Nothing could stop me. I was on an elevator ride to the top of the fashion world!

Yikes. Why do all fashion types look like they would blow away in a stiff breeze? And why do they all bathe in cologne? I mean, I get not wanting to smell like a weight room but geez. Anyway, after we ate, he announced Rarity's dresses would be put in the last show or something. I don't know what makes that so special, but she seemed pretty excited about it. Pretty soon, the champagne bottles were all empty, and the tables started to clear out. Not soon enough if you ask me.

"I'm going to freshen up," Rarity whispered, already out of her seat before I could react. With last night's events still in mind, I considered following her.

I nodded. Luckily for me, I could see the bathroom from my seat. On top of that, the security sweep I did last week told me the bathroom was single player, so there was little chance of something happening to her. Still, nothing was supposed to happen at that warehouse show either. Was I going to bank my reputation and my job on the assumption that no one was hiding in that bathroom waiting to kill her?

While I waited, I overheard a few other guards talking about last night. It was mostly about how bad the water they got covered in smelled, but some were passing around conspiracy theories. One guy thought it was a rival designer. Another thought it was mob-related. And still another guy thought the shooter was just one of your garden-variety lunatics. Any of them could have been right, for as much as I knew. I had questions of my own, but I had no idea where I could find answers. It didn't really matter anyway. As long as I kept my mark safe for another few days, I'd get my pay and move on with my life.

Before I had any more time to think about the ways a would-be assassin could hurt Rarity, she came out of the bathroom. That attack last night really had me rattled. I mean, they still hadn't caught the guy, and no one knows why he did it, or if he even hit his mark. Everyone around that guy who took the bolt could have been a target.

We left the diner and caught a cab back to the hotel. Excited as she seemed at the diner, she didn't say much on the way back. It was just as well; I wouldn't have had much to say anyway. We ended up back in the room, and that's when she really opened up. 'Oh, which dresses should I showcase? What sizes do I use? Blah, blah.' I didn't know why she was asking me, but I gave her an answer all the same.

"I dunno."

She rolled her eyes, but not in the annoying way she had before. Maybe this fashion show thing was a bigger deal than I realized. While she was busy bouncing around the room, scattering her clothes all over the place, I decided now would be a good time for a nap. Our next event wasn't until that night, so we had some downtime until then.

I stepped into my room, leaving the door open so I could still hear her. She hadn't used that stupid bell in a while, but that might have been because I stuck it under my mattress last night. Anyway, a quick sleep for a few hours would put me in the right mindset to keep an eye on her. Unlike the last one, this fashion show was supposed to last for awhile. Plus, I'm sure she'll be in a celebrating mood.

I curled onto my bed and passed out. Tonight was gonna be a long one.

My goodness, what a morning! Thank Celestia I still had a few hours to decide which pieces I wanted showcased. This was no easy choice, believe me. It was like choosing your favorite amongst your children! Gilda had been about as much help as I expected she would be with this kind of thing, but no matter. As she was quick to remind me, her only job is to keep me alive.

As I took a break from my decisions, I thought back on the events from my arrival. Although I didn't appreciate her attitude, Gilda had been nothing if not dutiful. And if I'm being honest... I wasn't exactly being the most gracious client. Perhaps I should do something nice for her? I recall thinking. But blast if I didn't know what a ruffian like Gilda would consider nice. Probably a shot of hard alcohol and a kick to the face, but who knows for certain. I tried to think of what Rainbow Dash would like, seeing as how they were pretty close for a time.

Probably a stiff drink and an even stiffer stallion, but I could only get one on such short notice. That's when it hit me! She hated that bell director Brinks had given me, and she thought herself sly by stashing it beneath her mattress. I recovered it while she was showering this morning, but destroying it could be a kind enough gesture. I snapped the handle from the bell with my magic and set it on her nightstand. As I glanced into her room, I had to admit she didn't look near as menacing when she was asleep. In fact, something about her curled up on her bed reminded me of Opal.

Anyway, from what I understand, griffons are one of the few civilized creatures that eat meat. This being an international hotel, I bet I could order some salmon or something with my lunch for her. After all, the label has already paid for almost everything. Hm... that kind of cheapens the gesture... but what she doesn't know won't hurt her! I dialed room service and placed my orders. They hadn't quickened their delivery times since breakfast, so I had a bit of time to flesh out a few more sketches on my design pad I'd been contemplating. After all, a good designer doesn't rest on her laurels. Stagnation is poison to the artist, and I must not let that happen!

Besides, tonight was another fashion show, and another party. Only this time I had something to celebrate!

Trotting Thunder

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Trotting Thunder

I set my alarm to wake me up a few minutes before we had to get to the fashion show, but that wasn't what got me out of bed. It was a smell. An awesome smell, but a smell all the same. I sat up and saw one of those fancy serving dishes from the kitchen sitting on my nightstand. I lifted the cover off, and the scent of perfectly cooked salmon nearly blew me away.

There wasn't a note or anything attached to it, so I had to assume it was Rarity's work. While I was kinda unhappy that I'd been woken up a few hours early, this was worth it. I knew I was gonna burn through that thing like a fat kid through candy. That's one of the lame things about fancy restaurants: they only give you small portions. I'll never understand why. Maybe rich people don't like eating in public.

I poked my head out of my room and found her asleep on the bed. She’d already laid out her dresses for the evening show on the rack beside it.

You know, she didn't look so snooty when she was asleep.

I made short work of the lunch and sat back down on my bed. I laid back, wondering when my jacket was going to be ready. There were still a few hours left to go before dinner, and I remember thinking maybe this assignment would get better if I pretended to have an opinion about fashion junk. Then I remembered I couldn't care about something so pointless even if I wanted to. But I could at least fake it, and that would be good enough for the next few days.

I rested my talons behind my head and sighed. Just three more days and this would all be behind me. Heck, maybe if I kept my comments to myself, there would be more salmon in it for me.

Maybe.

I woke rested and ready to take on the evening, even though my fluttering heart allowed me very little sleep. In all honesty, I wanted to stay up and fret over whether I'd made the right choices dress-wise, but I knew I needed a fresh face if I was going to be the talk of the town tonight!

As I confirmed my final decisions on the dresses I selected, a pony from the label came by to take the pieces to the show ahead of time. I'd held a few back so that I could continue to fuss over them. Only my most confident works went ahead of time. A few adjustments and alterations are not unheard of before a premiere to make sure the clothes were fitted perfectly to the model wearing them. After I'd sent the gowns on their way, something quite peculiar happened.

"Hey, I was gonna say this earlier, but you were busy," Gilda began. She had been watching me make the final touches on my work from a corner chair until a second ago. For a moment, I hadn't the slightest idea what she was talking about. "The salmon was great. Thanks."

It was at that moment that I wondered if, perhaps, Gilda had simply had a rough day when she’d met Pinkie. It still in no way excuses how she acted toward Fluttershy, but Celestia knows there are days when I would rather have a pinch of Pinkie than a spoonful.

"Yes, well, think nothing of it," I replied. "I've heard rumors of what they serve in the guards' dining room, and even if they are only half true, it simply will not do. You can't very well keep me safe if you're in the bathroom all night, can you?"

She smirked. A bit of toilet humor goes a long way in certain circles. "I'm gonna check on my jacket. Don't get killed while I'm gone," she said, with what could have passed as a smile.

I thought we'd made progress, but I quickly pushed her out of my mind. Making friends was not why I was here. I still had my mane to do and my tail to brush. Unlike the last party, punctuality was going to be very important this time around. I'd need to greet and mingle with all the fashion greats if I wanted to leave a lasting impression. Also, I had to make certain they would be in attendance at my showcase.

Before long, my preparations had been made, and Gilda had reappeared with her blazer. It looked like the filth from the previous evening had come out, which gave me a spark of hope that my dress might be salvageable.

"Ride's waiting," she grunted, gesturing out the door. Although I was excited about what the night would bring, I also couldn't shake the events of the previous engagement from my thoughts. Someone had tried to kill Hoity! That kind of attack was simply unheard of, especially in the fashion world. As far as I'd heard, there had been no arrests made, but rumor had it that Hoity was supposed to make an appearance at tonight's show.

I must admit, I admired the dedication! As we made our way down to the lobby, I was treated to even more civil conversation.

"So, are your getups gonna be in this one?" Gilda asked.

"No, these will be the summer lineups from Prance. Mine will be presented at the final show—the one the Princesses will be attending."

She seemed apathetic, but then again she wasn't the one whose dreams were going to be recognized in a few short nights! However, I was certain to correct the mistake I'd made last night. "I'll want you by my side at all times. And please, try not to scowl at anyone."

Gilda snorted. "No promises."

Camera flashes blinded the both of us as soon as we stepped onto the red carpet. I dunno how these fashion nerds deal with this kind of hounding every day. Thankfully, this place looked like it wasn't about to be condemned. I'd already studied the blueprints, and security was much tighter than the last event. After the red carpet entrance, everyone—myself included—had to pass through a magic screener. Unless the guy who attacked last night was truly nuts, he wouldn't try the same thing twice. Assuming he missed the first time, that is.

Unlike last time, I was right behind Rarity all night. I eyed every single pony that got within five feet of her, but even the idea of one of them hiding a weapon was laughable. I mean, where were they going to hide it? I've never seen so many ponies wearing clothes they looked like they had been poured into. My dagger got through, but only because of my job. Not like I was about to hand over my Dad's piece to one of these wage-slave bouncers, anyway.

The night was going smoothly. We'd eaten dinner in the restaurant they'd set up near the runway, and Rarity was well on her way to having me carry her back to the hotel, if you get me. I couldn't blame her; she had something to celebrate. Besides, as long as she was with me, everything would be fine. Above the stage were catwalks, where even more security patrolled. Last nights attack got me thinking: could it have been an inside job? I mean, I'd like to think the venue screens its bouncers, but who knows what kind of lunatic applies for a job that requires you to wear a tee shirt two sizes too small?

We took our seat next to the runway, and the lights dimmed. The DJ began his ear-splittingly repetitive house music and the special effect lights came up. Before the show started, the music faded as the pony I recognized from brunch today stepped on stage.

"Ladies and gentlecolts, before we begin, most of you may have heard of the savage attack on one of our dear friends." The crowd hushed, like talking about it was somehow going to make it worse. "However, I am pleased to announce, that Hoity Toity is well on his way to a full recovery and felt so well that he was able to join us tonight!" The spotlight shifted from the stage to a stallion beside the runway, a white bandage wrapped around his shoulder peeked out from behind his jacket. He stood and nodded before taking his seat. After the cheers died down, the show finally started. I was actually kinda looking forward to seeing some of the crazy stuff these ponies considered 'fashionable'.

The first model looked like she was wearing a dress from the future. It was entirely chrome, and looked like it was made of tin foil. The lights from the stage actually blinded me a couple of times, but these ponies ate it up. The next mare in line looked like she could stand a few stints at an all-you-can-eat buffet. That was made even more obvious by the loose-fitting dress she wore. I've never claimed to know what matches with what, but I'm pretty sure if the colors make my eyes hurt, no one in their right mind would wear them. Still, more than a few ponies nodded in approval.

The rest of the show was a similar parade of stuff I could hardly even consider clothes. Strips of cloth covering random body parts, maybe, but definitely not clothes. It was like these mares had been squirted down with glue and then sprinted through a fabric store while blindfolded. But, none of this was for me—or folks like me. I could almost tell who was a bodyguard and who was meant to be here by their expressions alone. I passed the time that way until the lights finally came up.

The after-party was only the next block over. It was a pretty fancy bar with even more catered food. This place was all marble floors and cloth napkins. It was one of those places that just smelled old. Like, if there hadn't been a party here, gray haired ponies would be sitting around a table talking about their latest golf round or how their stocks were doing. Imagine every library you've ever been in then add in old paintings and statues. There you have it.

Rarity had dipped into the bathroom, and I took the opportunity to slide over to the buffet table and load up. There's some fancy word for them, but they were just food to me. Hoarders, I think they called them. Anyway, I was busy chowing down when I felt a tap on the shoulder.

"Enjoying yourself?" I knew that voice. Looked like she could only drop the prissy attitude when we weren't in public.

"Eh." I shrugged. "These hoarders are pretty good."

She raised an eyebrow before giving me another sigh and eye-roll. "It's pronounced hors d'oeuvres. Now, how exactly are you going to be protecting me if your beak is buried in spring rolls?" Boy, was I tired of this noise already. And to think I thought tonight would have loosened her up. I set the plate down and finished what I had, wiping my talons together. "Please." Rarity hovered a napkin towards me just as I was about to wipe my talons on the tablecloth. I still don't see what the big deal is—they're both made of cloth!

There was no way I was going to make the night with her still acting all uptight. Thankfully, I had an idea I just knew would put Ms. Fancy Hooves in a better mood.

"Hey, how about I get you a drink?" She turned her nose up at first.

"I can't. I simply must keep my wits about me if I'm going to woo these designers." I was expecting her to refuse. Luckily, I'd planned for that, too.

"Look, all these other fashion weirdos have drinks. Do you want to be remembered as that one sober pony?" She bit her bottom lip slightly as she glanced around. Nailed it.

"Well... perhaps one wouldn't hurt, but do be quick! The night is almost over, and I still have a few ponies I must speak with."

Bingo. I walked to the bar and ordered the strongest yet tastiest drink I could think of: a long island iced tea. Just one of these things is soaked in nearly every kind of liquor behind the bar. If that didn't loosen her up, she had a liver of steel.

I ordered her drink and a little something for myself. It was an open bar with top-shelf liquor. You never know when an opportunity to drink fine booze for free would come along, so drink up! My Pop would always say. I downed my shot of bourbon and waded through the crowd with her cocktail. She took it in her magic and gave it a small sip. "I saw you take a drink."

"It was two for one!" I lied. "Besides, it was just one drink. I've still got your back."

She may have been unconvinced, but it didn't really matter at that point. Rarity took a longer sip and looked around the room. "Oh, there's Hoity." Once again she was swimming through the crowd as I tried to stay up with her. I kept my eyes peeled for anything suspicious, but nothing jumped out at me. Then again, nothing had last night, either.

I got next to her as the two of them droned on about fashion.

"... I'm sure they'll catch whoever did this," Rarity said. That's when I started paying attention. "It's just so very inspiring to have you here just a day after such a vile event."

"I would not have missed it for all the thread in Canterlot, my dear. It takes a lot more than one deranged criminal to keep me from attending fashion week, I assure you."

"Are you feeling any better?" she asked.

"Oh, it does hurt, but I soldier through it." Odd, because none of these ponies seemed like the type to "soldier through" anything. At that moment, a waiter was shuffling behind me. He must've lost his step, because I felt his shoulder plant itself into my back. I fell forward, driving my shoulder right into Hoity's bandage. I heard a squeal I thought for sure came from Hoity, but it came from Rarity instead. I straightened myself up as the waiter apologized. The weird thing was, Hoity had taken almost my full weight into his wounded shoulder, and didn't even flinch! Maybe I had misjudged these fashion types.

I could have just flown her back to the hotel on my back. I should have, honestly. But, like the good bodyguard I am, I helped her into the cab. It was her money; she could spend it however she wanted. Once we made it to the hotel, she seemed not to care about the ponies still in the lobby seeing her as drunk as she was. I had one of her legs over my shoulder and almost tripped myself getting her to the elevator. Her fancy dress was now a bit more loose than at the start of the event, and her mane was kinda all over the place. Thank Syrell feathers never need anything but the occasional preen.

Once I got her to the elevator, she finally let me lean her against the wall to give my shoulder a break.

"Did you see all those ponies liking my dresses?" she slurred. And here I thought high-society types could hold their liquor.

"Yeah, I saw 'em." I rotated my arm, trying to make sure I didn't pull anything while fighting to keep her off the ground.

She grunted at me, probably for not drooling all over her accomplishment like I was one of her lackey friends. "Of course you wouldn't care. You don't care what happens to me!"

I sighed. "I do care." I mean... I did! It was my job. "I'm just not into all this prissy fashion junk."

I glanced over at her side of the elevator. She was wearing a scowl. "That's your problem: you only care about you and the things you think matter."

She was just drunk, but you know what they say: drunken words are sober thoughts.

Ding!

Thank the gods! I thought, taking her leg and dragging her down the hallway. Luckily, she forgot all about what she was saying in the elevator by the time we got to the door. I managed to lug her into the foyer, making it all the way to the bed before I could finally toss her onto it. Ponies are heavier than they look.

I didn't think she would have wanted to sleep in her dress, but like I said before, I was her bodyguard, not her butler. I was nearly back to my room when I heard her moving around. I could have sworn she had passed out.

"Gilda!" That tone. I knew that tone.

I had to act quickly. So far, this was the biggest test of my reflexes since I started this assignment. I mean, as long as you didn't count that whole crossbow thing last night. I lunged into the bathroom and grabbed the little trashcan. I was way too far to reach her before she puked, so I did the next best thing: I hurled it at her.

I think she saw it coming, because she at least tried to catch it. She missed right by about three feet. The can crashed into the wall beside the bed, cracking the drywall. Somehow, she managed to grab the trash can and puke into it. That was one 'special cleaning fee' dodged. I filled a glass of water for her and set it on the nightstand.

"Thank you," she said, though she didn't touch the water. I stood there, waiting for her to ask me for something else, or to pass out—whichever came first. But, to my surprise, she did neither.

"So, you were friends with Rainbow Dash when she was a foal?"

My beak opened, but no words came out. I was honestly unsure why she'd ask that. But, clearly drunk Rarity was a bit more talkative than sober, snooty Rarity.

"Yeah, we were pretty tight back then." I admit, there was an edge of coldness in my answer.

"What was she like back then?" Rarity asked, propping herself up on her forelegs. I took a seat in the fancy chair next to the bed and leaned back.

"Well, a lot like she is now." I couldn't help but smile as I remembered the way we used to be. "We pranked our way into more trouble than I can remember. We probably spent more time in detention than we did in the sky." I rubbed a talon across my face. She was staring at me like I was telling a kid the Hearth's Warming eve story. "We did everything together."

I was starting to reconsider what I was telling her. After all, what business of hers was it how close Dash and I used to be?

"Do you miss her?" she asked softly. What kind of question was that? Did I miss my best friend that picked her new friends over me just because they were Elements of Harmony or whatever? I looked her over. Her eyes were half-lidded, and out of focus. She was drunk, as if that were in doubt. She'd probably never remember this conversation, so what was the harm in telling her how things really were?

"Yeah, sometimes." That was all I wanted to say. It was all I was going to say.

"Why don't you just apologize? At least to Fluttershy." That tore it!

"Apologize? I flew all the way from my country just to hang out with her, and what happens? Her stupid pink friend won't leave us alone, none of you ponies know how to take a joke, and on top of that, the pink one set every single prank up to make me look like an idiot in front of my only—" I stopped myself. Even if she wasn't going to remember this conversation, no need to let my emotions get the best of me.

I was staring down at my clenched talons when a soft snoring drew my attention. Rarity was well and truly passed out. It was just as well, she needed to sleep it off.

Once I was sure she was out cold, I went back to my room. I lay on my bed and tried to get some sleep, but it just wasn't happening. I peeked out of my room just to make sure Rarity hadn't made a mess on the sheets. She was still just as unconscious as ever, though it looked like she'd at least sipped on the water.

I don't do this often, but a lot of times my lack of sleep can be cured by a stroll and a cigarette. Not the healthiest habit, I know, but it works. I grabbed my smokes and crept out the door. I made sure all the doors were locked before I left, but there was still a bit of worry in the back of my mind.

I nodded to the night watchpony, and made my way outside. I used an employee exit and stood out near the dumpsters for a bit trying to light my cigarette in the wind. This back door was usually pretty quiet, and the rules say we're supposed to smoke at least one hundred feet away from the building. But, what the general manager didn't know, wouldn't hurt him. The wind was proving to be a challenge for my matchbook, so I started walking down the alley to try and get away from it.

It took a few minutes before I actually found a stretch of buildings that blocked the breeze. I stuck a match on the bricks and lit up, taking a slow drag. As I stood there trying to enjoy myself, I heard voices echoing from further down the alley. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have given a damn, but a few of the words came in loud and clear. Words that put a chill in my veins.

"—Hoity was not the target!"

My ears perked up. I followed the sound deeper into the alley.

"I understand, my lord, but the week is not over."

I came to a corner of the alley between two apartment buildings. I put my ear near the corner. They had to have been right around the bend.

I heard one of them sigh. I didn't recognize their voices, but the shadows they cast were pony-like. At least, they looked pony-like. "Have you at least taken care of Hoity?"

"Yes, my lord, he has been placated."

"And Rarity?"

I nearly froze in place. They were targeting Rarity, whoever they were! I had to see a face, I needed to know who to watch for, who to report to the cops and the director. I peeked around the corner, but they were in shadow. "Don't worry, we'll get her soon en..." One of them stopped and sniffed the air. "Do you smell that?"

My back froze against the bricks. My cigarette was still lit! I tossed it casually to the street, hoping they wouldn't come sniffing around. As luck would have it, I flicked the lit smoke onto some moldy hay in the trash. It lit up like a torch, and I knew I had to bail. I took flight faster than I ever had before. I don't know if they saw me, but even if they did, there was no way they couldn't gotten a good look at me. I hoped not, anyway.

I high-tailed it back to the Ritz as fast as my wings would carry me.

Five Talon Window Punch

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Five Talon Window Punch

Sure, going through the front door might have been safer, but safety is for jerks and pussies. I flew up to her balcony, and it only took me three tries to find the right one. Not my fault they all look the same. Anyway, I could see her passed out on the bed, and the doors were locked.

I hate to admit it, but I left my key in the room, so I was locked out. Naturally, I did the best thing I could come up with in that situation: I put my fist through one of the glass panes and unlocked the door. Shouting her name didn't wake her up, but that sure did. I could have done without the screaming, I can tell you that much.

"Who's there?" She was wearing one of those sleeping mask things. No idea how she managed to put it on in her state, but it made her tumble out of bed and get some facetime with the carpet. I would have laughed it up if I hadn't been so keen on making sure no one else was in the room.

"It's me, Rarity!" I shouted. She finally lifted her blindfold and sighed.

"Why on earth are you breaking windows at this hour?"

"I left my key, but something bigger is going down!" I didn't have time for dumb questions. Her life was in danger, and it was my duty as her guard to at least tell her what was going on.

Instead of being, I don't know, worried or scared, she took one look at my talon and cringed. "Gilda, you need to get that cleaned up."

Sure enough, there were shards of glass lodged in my talon, and blood was already staining the carpet near my paws. Adrenaline numbs you to stuff like this, I guess. "No more talk until you sit in this chair and let me dress that."

I wasn't sure if this whole 'caring' schtick was the booze still talking or what, but I guessed there wasn't any harm in letting her fix me.

With a yawn, she pulled out the first aid kit and I flopped down on her bed. "Now that we aren't screaming at each other, what is it that made you punch the pane out of my Prench door?"

Now that I had calmed down a bit, I had to question what exactly I'd heard in that alley. I mean, I know what I heard! Someone or something is gunning for Rarity.

But... was it worth getting her all anxious based on something I wasn't meant to hear? Of course it was. She had to know. I could be the greatest bodyguard in the world (and I am), but still, I can't be everywhere at once. She had to keep a sharp eye out too.

"When I went around the back of the hotel to take a walk, I heard something."

She raised her eyebrows but kept focused on picking out the tiny shards of glass in my talon. "Is that right?" Rarity paused from her work and looked up at me. "So what was it? Someone's affair? A trade secret?" She still didn't realize the danger. Hopefully I could lay this out for her, plain as day.

"I heard that the arrow that hit Hoity was meant for you."

She withdrew slightly. "F-for me?"

"These two... things were talking in an alley. I wasn't close enough to see who they were, but they said that they'll get you eventually."

Rarity paused and looked at me like I'd just spoken nonsense. Now, I'd thought she'd freak out, panic, or at least do something! Instead, she laughed. Laughed! Can you believe that?

"Gilda, please." She kept wrapping my talon, like I hadn't just told her someone was trying to kill her. "I highly doubt anypony is trying to kill me. I'm a simple dressmaker. I'm sure my skills do inspire envy in some circles, but enough to drive one to murder?" She scoffed at me. It was almost enough to make me try to slap some sense into her.

"Look, I know what I heard, okay? And I heard someone plotting to kill you." I pulled my talon away from her magic, but she yanked it back. "As your bodyguard, I can't let that happen."

Finally, she finished fixing up my talon. I flexed it just to make sure I could still use my claws for something. "Get some rest, Gilda. We've got a full schedule of events tomorrow." Maybe she was so calm because she was one of those 'Elements of Harmony' or whatever. If I had to guess, she'd probably faced life-threatening danger before. Maybe I didn't give this prissy pony enough credit. Maybe I was so tired from keeping up with her today that I couldn't think straight. Either way, for the rest of her time under my protection, I'd be wearing her like a second set of down feathers.

Looks like Gilda was a bit more of a lightweight than I would have thought! Of all the silly ideas for her to get into her head! Yes, Hoity's attack was certainly unfortunate and a shame they didn't catch the perpetrator immediately. But to imply that my life was somehow in danger? That's preposterous. Much to my surprise, I only nursed a small headache due to my festivities last night. Gilda, however, looked like she'd partied harder than I had, though she'd only had a few drinks.

"Been thinking about last night?" I asked her. That sounded a lot more sexual out loud than it did in my head.

"You mean about the assassins coming to kill you?" Sarcasm. She was a pro. "You could say that."

"Come off it," I replied with a roll of my eyes. "I won't have you being paranoid through the rest of my events."

Gilda stomped from her bedroom to the foot of my bed as I continued my morning stretches. "Can you please take your life half as seriously as I am for five seconds?" The narrow shine in her eyes told me one thing pretty clearly. I suppose I could humor her. After all, it's only for a few more days.

"Fine." I huffed. "What is it you want me to do?"

She turned quickly back to her bedroom, where I could hear the rustling of a junk-drawer. "I want you to keep this with you," she said, reappearing and handing me a shiny silver object.

I grasped the object in my magic to examine it more closely before I realized what it was. "A rape whistle? You think someone is going to rape me?"

"It’s not just for rape! You can use it for other stuff, too!"

Ignoring the obvious question as to why she had this on her in the first place, I was compelled to ask, "So what do you want me to do with it?"

"In case we get separated at one of your parties or whatever, just blow it, and I'll come find you."

You know, it was kind of endearing how seriously Gilda was taking her duties when a scant few days ago she'd have probably tried to kill me herself. I smiled. "Thank you, Gilda. I suppose I should test it first..."

I gave it a good puff, and I swear by Celestia, the shrillness of that tone could have shattered every pane of glass in my suite! Miraculously, it did not. Gilda quickly pulled it away from my lips, but not before covering her ears. "Not here, princess," she snapped. "Save it for when you're actually in trouble."

Even though I knew nothing was going to happen to me at any of my social events, I figured I could humor her for the evening. I tucked the whistle into my dress and continued primping for a full schedule of functions.

It was at brunch that I received even more exciting news! With the exception of Gilda leering at everypony seated at my table, nothing out of the ordinary took place. That was when Avant Garde stood up and addressed the gathered icons again.

"Fillies and Gentlecolts, as we all know, fashion week here in the illustrious capital city of Equestria, is a time to showcase up-and-coming talent, as well as hot new trends from established names." He paused to look around before glancing at me. Even though I'm sure he preferred the company of stallions, my heart fluttered all the same! "Yesterday, you remember, I told you all of a hot young newcomer to the fashion world, a brilliant mind who's already accomplished a laundry list of achievements for Her Majesties. Ms. Rarity Belle!" He motioned to me, and I graciously stood for a moment, accepting my applause. One could say I live for it. "But, as we all know, our lovely fashion week has been marred by a senseless and savage attack on one of our own. The police are still searching for the assailant, but with him still at large, I'm afraid I've been informed that some events must be cut to ensure our safety."

A hushed murmur ran through the crowd before Avant settled them again. "Now, with that being said, the final fashion show has been moved to tomorrow night! I hope to see you all there!"

The rest of the day went by so fast. By the time I came back into the moment, we were in a chic, dimly lit restaurant enjoying a wine and cheese pairing from Prance. Gilda was beside me as usual, and so close I nearly asked if she just wanted to sit in my lap instead! Perhaps that was the wine talking. Nothing unusual happened here either, with the exception of Gilda excusing herself and returning to the table with a wine stain on her jacket. Again.

I've known Sweetie Belle to keep her dresses cleaner than this! Oh well, I suppose it can't be helped.

"How is it you manage to spill something on this jacket every time there is wine present?" I whispered to her, dabbing the spot with a spare napkin.

"It wasn't my fault! Some asshole bumped into me! I had half a mind to drag him outside and make him lick it off..."

"No matter. Just please be sure to give it to the concierge so he can have it pressed for tomorrow."

I gave up trying to remove the stain. It was set-in by this point. I turned back to my cabernet and cut myself a bit of brie on toast. Gilda could go swimming in wine for all I care. Tonight was going too well for me to let worries shorten my high times!

Finally we left that stupid wine and cheese thing. It felt like hours. Just a bunch of snobs sitting and talking about... I don't even know what. And just sipping their wine. It's alcohol for Syrell's sake, not poison! Gulp it down! And why would anyone want to eat squishy cheese and crackers for dinner? Rich folks are weird. Anyway, I was glad to not have to drag her back to our room this time, though she didn't do much sleeping when she got there.

After I secured the doors and windows (maintenance was pretty quick about fixing the one I'd smashed), I headed to bed. I figured Rarity would be just fine figuring out what dresses she wanted worn tomorrow. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was taking this a bit too seriously. After all, we spent a whole day wandering nearly all over Canterlot, with plenty of chances for a hit to go down, but nothing came. Not even a weird look from someone! Everything was just as normal as ever. I turned my jacket in to be cleaned and then put myself down for a cat-nap. I'm sure I'd be up just as early as she would be tomorrow, and I'd bet she wouldn't want me snoring through her fashion show or whatever.

On the bright side, this meant my last day babysitting was tomorrow. Silver linings.

By the time Rarity knocking around in the main room woke me, I'd missed breakfast. Just as well. I wasn't that hungry. I straightened my feathers and reached for my jacket before remembering it was still being cleaned. I stepped out of my room and into what I think madness must look like. Dresses were everywhere, fabric was scattered across the room, and pins and needles were on the floor. Thankfully, I could hover. "Did you get any sleep last night?" I asked.

"I couldn't sleep!" she nearly shouted at me. In the corner were fourteen empty large coffee cups. "I had too much to do! My dresses must be perfect! PERFECT, you hear me?!"

Yikes. Today was going to be loads of fun. I hovered over to the phone to check if my jacket was ready. As I did, there was a knock at the door. In a flash of magic, Rarity's unkempt mane, smeared makeup, and puffy eye were back to normal. And here it normally took her two hours to get ready! Unicorns are jerks.

My jacket would be ready by this afternoon, they told me as Rarity opened the door. It was that fashion guy from yesterday. Avant, I think was his name.

"Good day, Miss Rarity! I trust you've been excited about your show this evening?"

"Of course! I've got my selections narrowed down to the last six dresses."

"Lovely, my dear. Now, I don't mean to trouble you, but I have decided to extend to you a two year contract to put your designs into production immediately."

I could have picked her face up off the floor. She was stunned.

"Y-you... a contract? For me? But you haven't even seen my latest des—"

"Hush now, darling. If your past work is any indication, you will own the fashion world in a year, tops! Come down to the lobby bistro for a bit of lunch and to sign the paperwork. My assistant is waiting for us; we mustn't keep Jiles waiting!"

That snapped her out of her daze. "Yes! Just allow me to find something to wear." She shut the door and squealed nearly as loud as that whistle I gave her. "I did it! I'm a fashion mogul!"

"Okay, okay, congrats," I replied. "Just let me get my jacket, and we can..." Shoot. I forgot my jacket was still being cleaned! I knew that bistro had a dress code and were real snobs about it. Even to employees. "I don't want you going down there alone with that creep."

She looked at me like I'd just insulted her mother. "Avant is not a creep! He's eccentric with an artistic bent!" Just as soon as I thought I'd get a stern talking to about judging, she softened. "It's only to sign a contract. I won't even stay for lunch. I promise you I'll be back up here in fifteen minutes."

I wasn't happy about the idea. But I couldn't keep her. This was why she came to Canterlot in the first place. "All right... fine," I sighed. "You have the whistle I gave you?" I asked quickly.

"Yes, mother." She smiled, opening the door to the waiting stallion outside.

"I'm coming to look for you after fifteen minutes!"

"Do not worry. She's in safe hooves," he called over his shoulder. I glared as they disappeared into the elevator. Heading back into the room, I sat opposite the clock on the nightstand and took to sharpening my father's dagger. Let that clock get one minute past fifteen, Avant. I dare you.

Fear and Loathing in Canterlot

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Fear and Loathing in Canterlot

It had been longer than fifteen minutes. Heck, it felt like it had been hours! According to the clock, she'd left twelve minutes ago. Something about that Avant Garde just didn't sit right with me. On top of that, there was that little conversation I overheard last night... still. I don't want to barge down there and ruin her good time or whatever.

Maybe I am being a bit paranoid, but isn't that a good bodyguard's job?

Screw it, I thought. I didn't care if she got mad. I was heading downstairs.

Until I heard a knock at the door.

"Just sign here, initial here, and sign here." Avant said, handing me his quill. It had been quite a morning, but this was the last hurdle for me to finally realize my dream. As I signed, the waiter brought a phone to our table.

"Mr. Avant, you have a call."

He seemed annoyed, but accepted nonetheless. "Yes? Already? But it's only... yes, very well."

He hung up the phone and threw a few hundred bits on the table. "Bad news my dear. I'm afraid the fashion show is starting ahead of schedule. We must get to the venue so you can start choosing your models."

Needless to say, I was a bit shocked. "But I still have pieces in the room that need to be brought down!"

Avant waved a hoof. "Not to worry, I've already sent two of my finest assistants to get them."

He was certainly prompt. "Come now darling, let us be off. I'll escort you in the limo. You will arrive the way a mare of status should arrive!"

I certainly couldn't argue with that. After all, this was my fashion show. We headed outside and a luxurious stretch chariot awaited.

We climbed in, and he immediately opened a bottle of champagne. "Shall we?" he asked, holding a glass towards me. Why not? It had been a delicious brunch.

"Of course," I said as he poured me a glass.

"To your success!" He toasted me as our flutes clanked together. My, was this ever my style! I wasted little time in downing my glass. "So, how much are you looking forward to your emergence day, my dear?"

As if he even needed to ask. I simply couldn't wait to show the Princesses my lines! But, even more importantly than that, the top fashion moguls would be in attendance, simply looking to select the latest and greatest designer from obscurity. Although, technically I was far from obscure... still, the saying applies. This was my destiny!

I opened the door and two bellhops I didn't recognize stood there. Which was weird, because I know all the wage slaves.

"Is this Rarity's room?" one asked.

"Yeah," I replied.

"And you're Gilda?"

"Obviously! What's this about?" I barely had time to get the words out before they jumped me. I caught two hooves in the chest and tumbled backward. When I shook off their hit, the bellhops were gone. Changelings stood in their place.

"Where did you ugly sons of bitches come from?" I asked, getting to my feet. I could take on two changelings... probably.

"We've come to kill you, and once you've been dealt with, we'll take Rarity back to the hive for our Queen to deal with!" I really couldn't believe villains actually gave their plans away like that!

"What did we talk about, Ironhide?!" one said to the other, slapping him. "No revealing the plans!"

Like I said: unbelievable. Anyway, it was time to put my fighting skills to the test. Once I got the ringing out of my ears, I squared up on both of these jerks. If they wanted to throw down, I was more than happy to help them out. Now, there were many techniques and strategies to holding off two attackers at once. None of which I could remember at the time. So I did what any fast-thinking fighter worth their salt would do: I grabbed an empty champagne bottle off the night stand and broke it, giving me a makeshift knife.

I kept them at bay with my busted bottle, but it wasn't going to last forever. It'd at least give me enough time to get my vision focused. Hooves to the face freaking hurt!

By now, I knew Rarity was in trouble, but I had my claws full at the moment.

"Alright freaks, line up for your stabbing!"

They stepped forward like I was holding a candy cane. I'd soon find out why. I took a stab at the first one, and the bottle shattered like I'd thrown it on concrete. Their skin was like armor!

"Damnit," That's all I had time to say before I took another shot to the face. That definitely needed to stop. I stumbled back between the bed and the nightstand, barely catching myself. For bugs, they sure packed a punch. Well, if it was a boxing match they wanted, then I'd give 'em one! With a flap of my wings, I charged one. I made sure to put a fist right in his eye. I nailed him! He'd be feeling that in the morning for sure. I sent him crashing through the wall as he shrieked. They weren't as sturdy as they looked, but I guess being filled with holes'll do that. I gave him a few more punches for good measure. Once I was sure he was out cold, I turned my attention to the other guy.

Now, keeping in mind what happened to my bottle, I figured out that the best way to beat a changeling was with another changeling. How was I going to do that? Glad you asked! I picked up the other one by the leg and started swinging him around, kendo style! After all, what better way to fight hardened shell than with another hardened shell?

"Not so good without sucker punches are ya?" I called, stepping closer with every swing. Just as I was ready to knock this guy into next week, he pulled out a knife.

He lashed out at me, but luckily I had his buddy to block the slash. Before I knew it, I was in a sword fight. Except the other guy had a knife, and I was swinging his buddy. Not something I'd ever thought I'd find myself doing, but then again, I'd never thought I'd have to be a former friends bodyguard either. He slashed left, and cut my arm something good. It stung, but his cut left him wide open to my right swing. I crushed him with his buddy, knocking them both out and putting a huge hole in the wall.

I wiped my brow and caught my breath. Once I'd gathered myself, I remembered that those things were after Rarity. And Rarity was still downstairs! I bolted out the door and took what had to be the slowest elevator in the history of time. Only after I had gotten into the elevator did I remember I could have just jumped off the balcony.

Once I made it to the bottom floor, I must have pushed over at least a dozen guests and employees. Normally, that would have cost me my job, but then again, losing my client would have too, so... yeah. Screw it.

She wasn't in the restaurant, or the bar, or anywhere in the hotel. The hostess told me she had left with that creepy fashion guy on their way to the show. That dude was no good, I could feel it! I had a choice to make: I could either bust into that show and call this guy out, and risk having Rarity super pissed at me if I'm wrong, or, I could do nothing and possibly let my client get kidnapped by changelings. Neither option looked good on a resume.

I decided to take my chances and head to that show. After all, if I was wrong, all I'd have is a pissed off prissy on my talons. But if I was right, then Gilda's the hero!

It took no time for me to fly over to the venue. Even three hours before the show was supposed to start, ponies were crowded around the red carpet. I circled down and realized there was no way I was getting past all these jerks. On top of that, I forgot my jacket! And I was bleeding. With no credentials, it was gonna take some scheming to get in there undetected.

After sneaking around the back of the place, I found the staff entrance where the dresses were being loaded. I casually grabbed one of the dress racks and began pushing it into the building like I was born to do it. Not surprisingly, my plan worked perfectly!

Up until I tried to get backstage. I pushed the cart toward the curtain but was stopped by a minotaur easily twice my size. I mean, this guy's neck was almost as big as my legs! No way was I getting past him like I was. I still hadn't seen Rarity, and if she wasn't backstage, then I was truly shit-out-of-luck. As I took a look around, let me tell you the inside of this building looked like a bad acid trip. I don't know who decorated this place, but they should go to rehab. Anyway, I noticed the only ponies being allowed backstage were models. I looked at the rack, and looked back at the bouncer.

I need this job!

Taking the least ridiculous looking thing I could find from the rack, I stepped around a corner to change. Thank Syrell they don't allow those camera ponies into the show. If Dash ever saw me in this, she'd... I mean screw her! I had to find my mark no matter how stupid I looked. But I did wonder how the hell ponies manage to walk in these crazy shoes.

Thankfully, there weren't any mirrors between here and there, so I checked my dignity at the changing table and strode toward the security guard like I belonged there. And I did it without shattering my ankles. I didn't get a second look from the guy as he held the curtain back for me. But, once I made it backstage, I ran into a mob of stylists, models and homosexuals all hustling to prepare their lines for the show. On top of that, the ceiling was way too low for me to fly. This was going to be tough.

The red carpet was every bit as glamorous as I'd envisioned it! Celebrities left and right, the kings and queens of the fashion world at every turn! It was simply marvelous. Avant and I strolled in, stopping for a brief interview here and there, posing for a few photo ops, and of course, plenty of networking.

"Rarity! Come my darling, it's time for you to prepare your ensembles!" Avant called to me as I wrapped up my interview with Equestire magazine. I was more than ready to get this show started. As we entered the venue, the decor alone was simply delightful. It was so chic! So post-modern! It simply oozed brilliance.

As I walked past the stage managers shouting at their subordinates, I was reminded of the reason I got into fashion in the first place. I called it, the roar.

What is the roar, you ask?

It's the anticipation in the air, the frenetic energy of ponies working together to produce something greater than themselves! Something I could almost hear, I could swear it. Sure, the designs draw the crowd, but without the right lighting, sound, or props, the fashion show would be nothing but... well I'm not sure what, but not near the glorious spectacle I've come to know. And let me tell you, the roar was alive and well here!

We arrived backstage with my designs, but I was quickly shuffled into a dressing room with my name on it!

A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, and sparkling bottles of water and champagne sat chilling on the table. Though it was rather small, I certainly didn't mind.

"Oh this is lovely! We simply must come back after the show to celebrate—" I said, turning to head back toward the changing area before Avant mentioned something curious.

"And of course we shall my dear! But, are you feeling alright? You look a bit unsteady..."

It was at that moment, my head began to swim. I took a seat as Avant and his driver came to my side. "I... I feel..." My mouth went numb, as did my muscles. I felt them laying me down on the carpet, feeling utterly embarrassed at becoming so flustered on the day of my big night! I had only a glass of champagne to drink that day! Surely all this wasn't from one glass!

A flash of green magic danced before my eyes as my vision blurred and began to fade.

Curse my trusting nature!

Fashion Town Beat Down

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Fashion Town Beat Down

Without a way to fly, I had to hoof it (yeah, I know) towards the dressing rooms. If I looked like an 'uncouth brute' or whatever for barging into her meeting, then so be it. I didn't need Rarity's approval. All I needed was her safety. I pushed countless wafer-thin models and effeminate mane-stylists out of my way as I came closer to the designer's greenrooms. Just as I was within eyesight, I picked out the star with her name on it. The door opened, and I fully expected a ridiculously dressed Rarity to step out, ready to do whatever it is designers do at these things. Instead, I watched two ponies carry a rather large rolled up rug on each shoulder out of her room, followed by that Avant Garde weirdo.

I was about to stop them when a huge clothes rack blocked my way. By the time I got past it, the ponies were gone. I hurried into Rarity's greenroom and found she wasn't in it. Not good.

"Shit, shit, shit!" I had to think. Every second she wasn't with me was another second she could be with a hostile. That's when it hit me.

"The rug!"

I knew that fashion creep was no good! I raced out into the crowded hallway and found the same crowd I'd just pushed through. With another well placed shoulder, I fired out of the doorway and into the crowd, heading towards the door I'd seen them use earlier. I had to hope they hadn't gotten far. I busted through the emergency exit just in time to see a limo peel out of the alleyway and onto the street. I grinned, spreading my wings. Finally, I could track something the way a griffon was meant to. I tailed the limo, following it to an abandoned warehouse in a really run-down section of town.

The only way this would've been any more clichéd is if Rarity was my wife and I was a grizzled old war veteran with nothing to lose, or a rogue secret agent the government was trying to kill, or an assassin that had been poisoned by a former employer and had to do crazy and dangerous stunts in order to keep myself alive long enough to exact my brutal revenge!

But I wasn't any of those things. I was a hotel bodyguard in a silly dress charging headfirst into what could possibly be a building full of dangerous thugs or worse. I perched on top of a nearby balcony and watched the limo come to a stop around back by the loading docks. Sure enough, out of the back seat, two ponies carried an out cold Rarity into the warehouse.

I don't know what I was expecting. I knew something was up with all this fashion noise, but no, I was just 'paranoid'. Just wait till I rescued her! Oh man was she gonna get an earful!

Just as my bravery peaked, the cold wet fish of reality slapped me across the face. How many dudes could be in that building? It was at least four stories, and pretty wide. On top of that, who knows what kind of crazy shit I might stumble across in there. I mean, organ theft is pretty huge in cities like this, and I've heard of some creatures that consider pony gizzards a delicacy! Along with griffon hearts...

No! I thought to myself. Your people once ruled all of the western skies! We are warriors through and through, and so are you, Gilda 'Steeltalon' Griffon! Not half bad for a middle name I made up on the spot, huh? Anyway, I took a little time to play Discord's advocate. What if I didn't rescue her?

Well, other than having to live with myself and knowing I was a coward, I'd probably be locked in Equestria's deepest, darkest dungeon for letting something happen to one of their Elements of Harmony or whatever. Not that I was considering abandoning her, but the choice was pretty obvious.

Seriously. I was going. Any second now... 1...2...3... Shit. This was harder than I thought. I guess risking your life for a job you only took because of the perks is harder than it looks. If only I had a rubber animal mask and a letterman jacket, I'd be more suited to bash ponies' heads in with a blunt object. But I had neither of those items. I spread my wings and glided off the balcony, landing softly on the rooftop. If I started at the top, I'd have at most three floors to get through before I found her. Hopefully still in one piece and able to fog a mirror.

My head felt as though it had been submerged in a vat of syrup. My muscles were sluggish, and I couldn't remember for the life of me how I'd ended up... wherever I was. I remembered I wasn't in Ponyville, I was in... Canterlot! That was it, for a fashion show! Thankfully, it was simply due to a blindfold, although I will admit that there is nothing "simple" about being trussed up and blindfolded in an unfamiliar place. I was on the verge of panicking before I heard a familiar voice. It was Avant!

"Avant, is that you? Where am I?" The muddled voices in the background stopped as soon as I had spoken. I know some after-parties in the art district can be a bit unusual, but this was taking things to a bit of an extreme. It was at the moment I tried to stand that I found my limbs bound as well. This was looking less and less like a party.

"Ah, Rarity, my darling! You're awake!"

I tried to remove my blindfold but found my magic just as restricted as the rest of me.

I felt a hoof against my cheek as the blindfold fell from my eyes. It was certainly dark, save for the single light above my head.

"Avant, what is all this? Why can't I recall the fashion show?" I was in no mode for japes or coy answers. Nopony makes Rarity miss a fashion show. Nopony.

"The show was a huge success! Your line was a smash! The princesses themselves even went to meet with you after the show."

"I... I met with the princesses? But how is that possible? I don't remember—"

"Well, not you, per se, but someone who looks remarkably similar to you."

"Remarkably similar? But who could possibly—" I stopped myself. I looked Avant in the eyes for a moment, searching into his soul, or where one would have been, had he not been a changeling! In a flash of green light, he revealed his true form. In the light of his transformation, I could see the rest of the room I found myself in. There were no windows, and along the walls were those grotesque pods they put ponies in to do... whatever it is that happens to them in there. In the pods, I could see the real Avant Garde, the hotel security director, multiple bouncers and fashion designers... it seemed they'd nearly taken over the fashion industry!

I figured I should have listened to Gilda. She knew something was off about this guy, but I was certain everything was fine! This wouldn't be the first time following my instincts has gotten me into hot water. So, I could only hope she would come bursting through that door followed by a SWAT team from the Canterlot police department, or the army, or both. Of course, I'd then have to listen to how right she was. I suppose I could suffer such things if it meant I could get out of here without having my body snatched.

"So, is this the part where you tell me your evil plan?"

The changeling formerly known as Avant looked at me like I was crazy.

"Why would I tell you that? I'm going to put you in a pod and be done with it."

"Well, you clearly have never masterminded an evil scheme before."

He paused for a moment. Sometimes it was too easy.

"I'll have you know I've masterminded plenty of evil schemes."

"Well I find that hard to believe. I mean, you don't even know when to start monologuing."

"I know exactly when to monologue!"

"Then put your money where your mouth is."

"I'll monologue when I'm damn well ready! I'm one of the greatest evil geniuses the hive has ever produced!"

His guards behind him were trying hard to contain their laughter. "Come now, your henchmen don't even respect you. How is your victim supposed to cower in fear of you if your henchmen are laughing at you behind your back?"

"What?!" He whirled around, finding his guards hiding their mouths behind their hooves, though the holes in them did little to disguise their laughter. In a flash, not-Avant zapped them into two smoking piles of dust. "There! Are you scared now?"

I mulled things over for a few seconds. "Well... I suppose I'm a bit frightened, but..."

"But what?" he growled.

"I'm just not very impressed."

He threw the a chair across the room. "You aren't supposed to be impressed! You're supposed to be scared!"

"Darling, I've been a key component in many evil schemes." I took a deep breath. "I think I know a thing or two about atmosphere, and this is just a lackluster effort on your part. Now, if I were you, I would have..."

This place was pretty nasty. It looked like the inside of a rusted old safe. If I was gonna get tetanus anywhere, it would've been here. Good thing I had all my shots. I had to step lightly, there was a lot of broken glass on the floor, and the slightest crunch was gonna echo through that place and bring every guard in there down on me. The floor plan was pretty open. I dunno what this place used to be, but it sure wasn't it now.

"I know! Ironhoof doesn't know anything about running an evil scheme."

I clung to a support column. I peered around the corner and noticed a single guard looking out a window with a radio in his ear. Looks like he was my first target.

"Look, first time or not, there's certain things you should research before putting a plan into action! I mean, an abandoned warehouse? How clichéd can you get?"

I snuck carefully to the next column, and then the next one until I was only feet away from him. I took a few quiet steps until I was right behind him.

"You guys should be nicer to Ironhoof," I said.

"Yeah, but he... wait a second—"

He didn't have time to finish that sentence before I cracked him across the jaw. What started out as a unicorn slumped to the ground at my paws as a changeling. Looks like I was right about a larger conspiracy! Just wait till I rescued Rarity.

I didn't have time to bask in my rightness. After I made sure there weren't any other guards around, I headed down the stairwell to the next floor. The last floor was a cake walk compared to this one. Three guards, each patrolling in a pattern, and each one with a sword on their belt. I'd have to play it smart if I wanted to get past them all alive. At my paws was a rusted old pipe. Judging by the shape of this place, I'd bet it fell from the ceiling. Looking up, I saw a hole in the ceiling where it had come from. There were still pipes running through the place, and that gave me an idea. I grabbed a chunk of tile and threw it into the hallway.

The guards left their patterns and poked their heads out. Now came the hard part. I chucked another piece at the closest one, and it nailed him right between the eyes. The other two charged me, holding their swords with their magic above their heads. I pulled back into the room and waited for them to come in after me. The first guy just ran straight in. He was easy enough to deal with. A swift crack with my pipe, and he was out cold. The next guy wouldn't be so easy. I tried to do the same to him, but he met my pipe with his sword. I wasn't really that great with weapons during combat training, so there was a good chance I could get cut.

I swung hard, and he met me again, both our weapons clanging loud enough to make my ears ring. I tried again and again, but this guy blocked my every shot. I must have been telegraphing somehow. I knew the longer this fight went on, the more chance I had of getting killed. So, I did what anyone in my situation would have done. I cheated.

I stumbled backward after blocking a pretty hard blow, falling over, but grabbing a talon-full of dust from the floor. I stood up quickly, and right as he was about to cut me down, I blew it in those giant eyeballs changelings have. He stumbled backwards, trying to get it out of his eyes while I brained him with old Rusty.

Down he went, and I was one floor closer to Rarity.

I sped down the stairs with my trusty pipe in talon, only to come across a group of at least five of them waiting for me. No tricks or clever plans this time. If I wanted to rescue my charge, I was gonna have to use good old fashioned brute force. I had to hope I had enough of it...

"All I'm saying is, to be a truly proper villain, you need a lair. I mean, come now, a warehouse? What are you, a mobster?"

By now, I had managed to get this fellow—Ironhoof, as it turns out— to sit across from me, as I deconstructed the numerous flaws in his plan.

"Have you priced lairs recently? I'm not made of money!"

"It's not about the amount, darling, it's what you get for your money! Sure, anyone can rent an abandoned missile silo or a mothballed military base, but how many can say they have their own active volcano? Or perhaps an orbiting space station with a death ray?"

"But, where would I get the money?"

"Surely queen Chrysalis' has coffers filled high enough for something like that?"

Ironhoof sighed. "Not hardly. She spent all the shekels she had made on the hive. Apparently, spas and personal masseuses don't come cheaply."

This I could understand. Even someone as horrid as Chrysalis is still a queen. A queen must look her best at all times! Even if her best is a horrifying abomination of insect and pony.

A crash came from beyond the door. He grabbed a sword in his magic and replaced the gag in my mouth. And after all the progress we'd made! How rude!

By now, the racket from outside had been growing steadily, with shouts and crashes coming in more frequency as time passed. Suddenly, the noise stopped, and all was deathly quiet. For a moment, Ironhoof and I glanced at each other, before he carefully and silently crept toward the door. In a startling instant, the old wooden door exploded into splinters, a changeling having been hurled through it with a pipe sticking out of its midsection. It missed Ironhoof by inches.

Standing in the now open doorway was a sight I was certain to never see. Gilda, in one of my dresses—torn and tattered though it might have been—with more than one bruise and a few cuts. Since she was saving me, I was willing to look past that she was bleeding on one of my favorite designs.

Gilda stepped forward. "You have one chance to set Rarity free."

Ironhoof raised his sword. "Or what?"

She seemed to hold in a moan of annoyance. "Fine, we'll do it the hard way."

I had to admit, I just laid down the ass-kicking to end all ass-kickings! You should have been there! I don't even have the words to describe how awesome that battle was! But, that was then, and now, I had finally found the final boss of this little adventure.

Around the room, I noticed a few familiar faces sealed inside those creepy pod things changelings love so much. The real Avant Garde (who didn't look any less creepy, by the way) and a few fashion types, some cops, a paramedic or two, and that one guy who got shot with the crossbow! Hoity-Toity, I think his name was. Anyway, it was time to lay the smack down. I picked up a sword laying in a pile of dust by the door.

"And just what are you going to do with that?" he asked with a tone I kind of recognized.

"End you, if you don't surrender." I'm pretty good at sounding like a badass sometimes!

He used his green changeling witchcraft to change into Director Brinks. "Do I look familiar? I invite you to take a guess as to why I'm not worried about killing you."

"Is it because you've accepted death already?" Okay, not as cool, but still, I could have said worse.

He smirked. "It's because I trained you. I know your strengths, and I know your skills." He did a few fancy tricks with his sword, which were probably pretty easy when you didn't actually have to hold it. "For instance, I know that you prefer hooks to jabs." He feinted with his sword, and I reflexively raised mine to block. He grinned. "I know you prefer brute force to finesse."

He took a step closer, settling into a fighting crouch. "And I know you're awful at swordplay," he hissed. "So, shall we begin?"

I snarled in reply and stepped in, swinging downward with a two-handed slash that should have cut him in half—if he hadn't dodged with room to spare. This guy was quicker than he looked. Before I could recover, he cracked me in the mouth with the hilt of his sword. If I had teeth, I'm sure a few of them would've been loosened. I stumbled backwards, careful not to let go of my sword. It only took one hit to make me realize I should let him come to me. He lunged and I blocked, throwing him off and slashing at him again. I nicked him, but it didn't seem to hurt as he spun off of me and came back again. This time he was really letting me have it. I blocked as fast as I could, but I knew I couldn't keep this up. I dodged a downward cut, and threw my shoulder into him as he tried to pull his sword out of the ground. The impact pulled his sword out, but it also sent him flying into a wall. Looked like he felt that one!

"I've had enough of you! I pretended to be all these miserable fashion lunatics for months after Avant wrote Rarity that letter, and now I'm killing you, and taking her back to my Queen, where I'll be made her King!"

"Really? You're telling me your evil scheme now? Is this your first time being the villain?"

That really pissed him off for some reason. With a shout, he sprinted towards me, hacking like his life depended on it. At first, I blocked every strike. But by now, my arms were getting tired. I'd already fought my way through a warehouse full of them, and now he was really testing my stamina. It was fading fast. My blocks became less sharp, but what really drove the point home was him slicing my arm. That was gonna need stitches. I screamed and dropped my sword, but not before I felt him mule-kick me into the wall. My head was in a fog as I tried to focus. I could see him coming towards me with his sword held high.

"Any last words?"

This was it. This was my chance to say something totally cool before I killed this guy! I only had seconds to come up with something snappy.

"Uh..." Turns out it's pretty hard to think under this kind of pressure. So I went with something simple, yet elegant.

"Fuck you!"

I reached into my right wing feathers and grabbed the hilt of my dad's dagger. A good bodyguard is never unarmed. I had one shot at this, and if I missed, I was really screwed. I flung the dagger at him, and watched it sail end over end towards him. Some folks say that when your life is on the line, seconds can seem like hours. I know what they mean.

A weird squelching noise snapped me out of my daze. I followed the knives' path, and blinked in surprise when I saw the hilt standing out from the Changeling's giant blue eye. An instant later, he collapsed bonelessly, his sword clattering to the ground.

I could hardly believe I was that lucky! I mean, I've never practiced throwing knives before. Seriously, not once. But, I'd rather be lucky than good any day. I shook the dust off my feathers and plucked my dagger from the dead bug's head. In case you were wondering, they do curl up all cockroach-like when they die.

I walked over to Rarity and took off the gag. I definitely wanted her to talk for this.

"So, am I still paranoid?"

Oh, the look on her face was priceless! She was one of those types that hates being wrong, I could tell.

"I suppose not," she sighed. Something about that just wasn't as satisfying as I'd imagined it. "I must have been a fool to think someone as well known in the fashion world as Avant would want anything to do with my silly designs..."

I didn't beat up eight changelings and kill two just to rescue a Debbie Downer. "Hang on, that's not true! The changeling said he replaced the creepy fashion guy after he sent you the letters!"

She paused for a second. I could tell the wheels were turning in that still somehow perfectly coiffed head of hers. "I suppose he did, didn't he?"

"Yeah he did! And before I put that knife through his eye, I bet his last thought was how stunning I looked in your dress!" Oh boy, was I lying through my beak. But that's what you do for a... Oh shit. Is she my... friend?

"You think so?" she asked. I could tell she meant it honestly.

"Pfft! No way!" I laughed. She threw her grumpy face on almost immediately. "C'mon, I think you know me better than that. The last thing going through that guy's brain was my knife." She gave me a shove, but also a playful smile.

"Well, I wouldn't expect a ruffian like you to understand the finer points of the industry." She looked at me and smirked. "Besides, you couldn't come up with anything better to say besides 'fuck you'?"

"Hey, I 'd like to hear you do better!"

"How about after his little speech about how he knew everything about you, you could have said: 'you should know I also don't play by the rules' or something."

Damn, that was way better. "Tell you what, next time you can kill the changeling mastermind and then you can say all the cool closing lines you want." I took a look around at the still trapped ponies. "How about we call the cops and get the hell out of here?"

"Calling the constables won't be necessary."

I turned around, and there in the doorway were the ever-loving Princesses of Equestria! And a talonful of cops and royal guards.

"Wow... Uh... hey." Apparently that wasn't what you said to royalty. Rarity's elbow reminded me of that.

"And a fond 'hey' to you as well, hero of Equestria!" Princess Luna smiled at me.

"Me?" I asked dumbly. I was doing great as far as first impressions go.

"Indeed. You have foiled a most dangerous Changeling plot, set free a number of our captured citizens, and protected a vital piece of our national defense! If that does not make a hero, then I fear I am unable to recognize them anymore." Princess Celestia added as the police began to arrest the unconscious changelings and haul off the dead ones.

I nodded. Which was about all I could do. I gotta admit, their presence is pretty impressive. "But, how did you know to come here?"

"Our deceased changeling friend made the mistake of leaving one of his henchmen behind to pose as Rarity," Celestia said, like she was trying to stop herself from giggling. "I wished to speak with her after the show, and found her a bit out of sorts. Once I found out why, it only took a few moments with my dear sister before he confessed to his crimes."

"Princess Luna has what some would call an irrational hatred of changelings," Rarity whispered in my ear.

Yikes.

"So, you guys weren't behind the whole 'required bodyguard' thing?" I asked.

"No, that was all a forgery by a rather clever changeling. It appears they are just as adept at copying documents as they are forms." Celestia replied, holding the fake royal decree out to me. She might as well be showing me a calculus test, because I couldn't tell the difference between that and a real one.

"So, it is customary for us to grant a request to our hero!" Luna shouted a little too loudly for a room this size. "And thus I shall! What is it you request, brave..."

"Gilda."

"Brave Gilda, anything within our power is yours, what say you?"

At first I had no idea what I wanted, but then it hit me. Something that had been on my mind long before any of this craziness started.

It wasn't long after that, I made my way to the Canterlot train station after bidding Gilda a much harder farewell than I'd anticipated. I suppose even two as different as us can find common ground when one of our lives is in danger.

As it turned out, my designs were a hit, even without the design Gilda had pilfered off the rack to save my hide. I suppose good taste is in ample supply in Canterlot, even without the designer there to accept the honors. As the countryside whipped by outside, I found myself thinking back to Gilda's request of the princesses. At first I was a bit confused, but once she explained my role in it, I was more than happy to help.

The train ride went by quickly, and before I knew it, I was back in familiar territory, my friends waiting at the platform to greet me.

After all the hugs, and hellos, the questions began.

"How was fashion week Rare?" Applejack asked. I must admit, I missed her country accent. You don't find much of that in a place like Canterlot.

"It was more than I bargained for, but I got by." Best to leave the tale for another time. Perhaps over a cup of afternoon tea when it could be fully appreciated.

As I made my way back to my boutique, I asked Rainbow Dash to follow me. I knew she wouldn't care one way or the other about fashion, only that I'd come back a success. Which was quite alright. I expected no less. But, it was my obligation to Gilda that led me to the both of us having a seat in my studio over a cup of tea.

"Thanks for the invite Rarity, but why exactly did you want to see just me?"

I sipped my tea and smiled at her. Even through all this, a lady is still entitled to her sense of drama, is she not? "While I was in Canterlot, I was assigned a certain bodyguard, one I'm sure you'd remember."

She looked at me with the same puzzled expression I'd seen on Gilda many times before. "Okay, who?"

I slid an envelope from my carryon bag and across the table to her. The envelope revealed nothing but the letter 'G' elegantly written on the front. Obviously, that was my touch.

Rainbow opened the letter and began reading, a variety of expressions coming over her before she finished.

"Gilda? She was your bodyguard?"

I nodded. "She was."

"So she wants me to just be friends with her again, just like that?"

I could tell she was skeptical. If I were in her position, I would be too. "She does, but, she is not the Gilda that left here in such a fit of rage. She's changed, and I can vouch for that."

"Would you hang out with her after everything she did?" Dash asked.

Mine was a special case, but the truth all the same. "Yes. I consider her a friend. As she does with me." Still not enough. Rainbow could certainly be a hard head. "It takes a friend to ask another for one more chance, but it takes a true friend to give that chance. Was there not a time when the two of you were friends?"

Rainbow nodded. "Yeah, I guess I was kinda quick to toss her out on her tail..." I had done it. I reached the unreachable! If I should ever fail at fashion, I could be a hostage negotiator, no problem.

On top of that, I had another ace up my fashion-forward sleeve. "She wants the two of you to go to a Wonderbolts show together, in the royal box seats."

Rainbow gasped. "Are you serious?!" I slid the tickets toward her. She could hardly believe her eyes. "How could she even get these?"

"She had a little help." I smiled, taking another sip of tea. "So, will you give Gilda another chance?"

"Of course!"

I love it when a plan comes together.

Putting The 'Harm' In Harmony

by chief maximus

Hotline Canterlot

Bonfire of the Rarities

Gilda's Inferno

Trotting Thunder

Five Talon Window Punch

Fear and Loathing in Canterlot

Fashion Town Beat Down