//------------------------------// // 5. How Beautiful Are The Mountains // Story: Equestria : 1940 // by Georg //------------------------------// Equestria : 1940 Friday 14 June - Canterlot, Equestria “I will also take a sprig from the lofty top of the cedar and set it out; I will pluck from the topmost of its young twigs a tender one and I will plant it on a high and lofty mountain.” — Ezekiel 17:22 Morning came to the Canterlot castle, capitol building of the Equestrian principality, but did not go everywhere just yet. The day may have been busy outside with all of the early-rising ponies doing governmental things, but the thick stone walls of the guest quarters were far from the hustle and bustle of governance, and heavy curtains prevented Celestia’s sun from disturbing Jon’s sleep. His welcome rest was about to come to an end. Sometime late in the morning, perhaps when it had turned into afternoon, some base instinct roused him ever so slowly from his exhausted slumber. At first, he thought the last few days had been a dream, and he was still back in his small apartment in Washington DC. The fresh floral scent of the blankets made that highly unlikely, and as one detail or another began to filter into his perceptions, he began to get closer and closer to actually waking up. The faint scratching of a quill against paper was the last detail that made him actually open his eyes just a little bit. There was another set of eyes just a few inches away, staring back at him in rapt fascination. He closed his eyes, then opened them again, just to be sure. The big violet eyes were still there, framed in a pale purple face that was unquestionably an Equestrian unicorn, although without the elaborate manestyles most of them sported. Instead, her blue and pink striped mane was almost brutally chopped off in a straight line right above the eyebrows, as if she had determined the exact minimum amount of time and effort needed to get her hair cut. Most probably she had cut it herself, because Jon could not imagine another pony cutting her mane so ineptly. The same lack of social effort was obvious in the rest of her face as well. There were no earrings, bows, bracelets, bangles, or other shiny forms of self-expression to differentiate her from the herd, other than that most intent stare filled with burning curiosity. If he had not recognized the Student of the Sun from the detailed description Princess Celestia had given him earlier, he would have been deeply upset, but since this was the fragile vessel of the world’s salvation from a dark alicorn corrupted by Nightmares… He needed coffee. Now. Lacking the life-giving beverage, he took a deep breath instead. The air was fresh and crisp, cooled with the altitude of Canterlot and bearing with it the dust and general nature of an ancient structure that most probably had been built when Moses was still in nappies. Mixed in with the refreshing feeling of antiquity was a most current scent of a unicorn who apparently had not been keeping up with her personal hygiene the same extent that the more fastidious unicorns Jon had met before. It was not exactly a repellent scent, but a vague horsey-sweaty odor mixed with old paper, fresh ink, and tea, which most certainly wafted in his direction from Celestia’s young student, and made him realize something that would make his job of Friendship Instructor that much more difficult. She looked and smelled like a complete and total nerdicorn. “Hello?” he ventured, since “What are you doing in my bedroom?” was a little too direct, and “Good morning” had the distinct possibility of being wrong by a few hours. The unicorn’s face lit up and she began babbling in rapid-fire German so quickly that Jon was unable to make out more than about one word in each sentence. If he had any doubts about the identity of Celestia’s student before, they were gone now, replaced by his expanding understanding of just why she had such a hard time making friends. She was at least prepared for her morning ambush of her new teacher, from the stack of books beside her. There were a few German phrasebooks, several Equestrian books on various topics, two scrolls for some reason, and a biology book with a naked human on the cover that was certainly not published outside of the Equestrian borders. And triggered by the picture on the cover, Jon realized that he was likewise naked under the covers. Rather than wait for a conversational hole in the unicorn’s rapid babble, Jon pulled the covers up a little more and blurted out, “Excuse me, Miss—” Name, name! What was her name? Something light related, or sunrise maybe? The young unicorn promptly looked totally mortified that she had been speaking in German and switched to English almost mid-syllable, starting right where she had before and repeating her previous burst of words, only this time marginally more understandable. He did manage to catch the phrase ‘lunch’ out of the waterfall of words before the presence of a second creature in the room drew his attention. There was a dragon standing rather casually next to the babbling unicorn, nearly the same purple color as she was and holding a scroll and a quill as if he were expecting at any moment to take a letter. He was just as dissimilar as the other variegated dragons of Equestria, most certainly bipedal and counterbalanced by a thick tail, but lacking the wings the vast majority of the others had. If Jon had not already seen an entire extinct volcano filled with considerably larger dragons last night, the sight of the little dragon might have disturbed him. Since the little guy only would have come up to Jon’s waist at best, he was not exactly the most fearsome of beasts, even with the sharp teeth, pointed nails at the ends of his stubby little fingers, and… Well, maybe he is a little scary. If the unicorn doesn’t talk me to death, he could always scratch me. “Pardon me, Miss.” Jon had to talk as loud as he could to break the unicorn’s chain of speech, or at least fracture one link of it so he could get in a word edgewise. “Have you seen my pants?” As introductions went, it was significantly lacking. “I’ll get them, Twilight,” announced the little dragon before dashing away into the opulent suite. It gave Jon a moment of relative silence to soak in the surroundings, which appeared to be as fine as a penthouse in the Ritz-Carlton, only everything had been built on a shorter scale that would have left his feet sticking out of the bottom of the bed if he also had not been slightly shorter than the average human. The old-fashioned four poster bed had all of the side panels pulled back and tied up with red silk cords, and much of the polished granite floor was covered with warm throw rugs that made him want to run his toes through them. Being naked should not have been a good reason to hide in bed because nearly all of the Equestrians (and dragons) he had seen so far were just as bare, but… “Here we go, Mister Walthers.” The little dragon staggered through the door under both of Jon’s large suitcases, looking a little like a pair of short purple legs with a pile of luggage on top. “Princess Celestia had some of your things sent out to be laundered since you slept in them most of last night. Let me put these on your bedstand.” “Thank you, um…” Jon paused, hoping the dragon would pick up his cue because the last thing he wanted right now was to start up the unicorn’s mouth again. “I’m Spike,” said the dragon, sticking out a chubby little hand to be shaken. “And this is Twilight Sparkle. Are we disturbing you, sir?” “Of course we’re not disturbing him,” chided Twilight Sparkle in a rush of words. “We’re just… We’re not disturbing you, are we?” The look of abject fear sweeping over her face triggered even more words in a tidal wave of abused verbs and nouns. “I mean we’re in your room but it’s nearly lunch time and I didn’t think you would still be sleeping but you were, so we just waited until you woke up but then you did and I didn’t introduce us! I’m sorry! I’m Twilight Sparkle, private student to Princess Celestia and—” Twilight’s voice sped up considerably “—she sent me a teacher! Oh, isn’t this great, Spike! My own teacher!” There was a brief pause, although not long enough for Jon to start speaking before the unicorn started up again, only slower. “But this means I’m not learning something she wanted me to learn, and I must have failed so badly that she had to send out for a human teacher because I wasn’t learning it from other ponies! Is she still going to want me as her student any more, or am I going to have to travel to the human world to learn my lessons now or did I do something wrong and she’s banishing me from the country until—” Spike held a clawed hand over Twilight Sparkle’s mouth. “You could just ask him.” Shortcutting the expected question, Jon pulled the sheet a little further across his bare chest and said, “I’m supposed to be teaching you about friendship.” Twilight looked almost terrified, and promptly whined, “But I have friends! I have Spike and my family and my study group.” Set aback by her reaction, Jon groped for words, as well as tugged the blankets a little higher. “Do you think we can put this conversation off until I’ve had a chance to freshen up? I’ve had—” He paused, trying to put the aircraft trip, almost being shot, and meeting more dragons than Washington D.C. had bureaucrats all into perspective, and settled for “—a very busy day yesterday.” “Oh, of course!” Twilight Sparkle lit up with joy and she fairly danced across the bedroom floor in the direction of the bathroom to the tapping sound of steel shoes on the granite tiles. “We have the most modern bathing facilities in all of Equestria, with hot and cold running water, seven different kinds of soap, towels, washcloths, brushes—” “All well and good,” said Jon, still in bed rather than try to make an impromptu toga out of the sheet. “But could you get out of my room for a few minutes while I change?” The reaction Twilight displayed was unusual, but Jon had once been in a taxi with a driver who drove like Twilight Sparkle thought: full speed and right angle corners. He had survived that encounter, and certainly could survive this one. Maybe. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Because of human nudity taboos making you unwilling to undress in front of another species—” “Two species,” said Spike, holding up two stubby fingers. “—since the human body doesn’t have any protective coat or hair of any real significance except on the head and groin and your sexual organs would be on display which doesn’t make much sense because of your lack of other contextual social indicators would make arousal an important factor to display in order to propagate your species with—” Twilight Sparkle came to an abrupt halt, looked at Jon, then moved rapidly toward the door, towing her research materials and research assistant behind her in a cloud of soft violet magic. “I’m sorry we disturbed you Mister Walthers and we’ll wait while you get—” The closing door cut off her last words, although Jon got the feeling she was still talking out in the hallway. “Excellent start with your student, Professor Walthers,” he groused, getting out of bed and beginning a futile search for some sort of warm fuzzy slippers to counteract the spaces of cold granite tile between throw rugs scattered across the floor. Finding none, he scooted the short distance over to the bathroom to take care of his most urgent need, and considered the pony toilet during the process. Like most bathroom fixtures in foreign lands, it was different than the American types, of course, being lower to the ground and longer, making him think about how the ponies in the human world managed their bathroom visits without feeling a little awkward too. The tub likewise was both higher, narrower, and shorter than he expected, most probably to allow a pony to fully immerse themselves except for their heads and necks, and lacked a shower, which Jon was considering a needed modern amenity in a world of short bathtubs. In fact, the tub seemed more like an elaborate bucket in which he would have to squat uncomfortably in the bottom of in order to get properly wet, and shampooing would be nearly impossible. He turned on the water anyway to run a bath, because it was afternoon, and whatever activities were scheduled for today would go better without smelling of dragon brimstone and sweaty ape. To his pleasant surprise, the hot water faucet had hot water, although the cold water was just a degree or two away from the snowmelt from which it most probably had been extracted. After a little fiddling with the faucets to get the temperature right, Jon straightened up, considered how long it was going to take for the bathtub to fill, and turned to dart back out into the chilly granite tiles of the bedroom to collect his clothes for after the bath was over. The only problem was when he opened the bathroom door, it revealed a familiar lilac-shaded equine who obviously had been peering through the keyhole. “Oh!” said Twilight Sparkle, looking up with a quill floating in her magic and several lines of observations in her anthropological journal. “You’re… um…” She glanced down, then back up again. “Smaller than I expected,” she finished. “Out!” snapped Jon, pointing toward the front door of the suite where Spike was nervously waiting. “Out! Out of my bedroom!” He grabbed a towel out of the bathroom and wrapped it around himself before stalking forward, shooing the stammering unicorn out into the hallway and closing the door behind her. Just in case, he picked up a nearby chair and stuck it under the doorknob, then turned back to his suitcases and the tweed jacket Spike had laid out. Picking up his clothes, Jon stalked back to the bathroom and arranged his shirt and pants next to the sink. The level of the bath still was not all the way up to where he wanted it, giving Jon a few minutes of relative sanity in the closed bathroom. He had new respect for Princess Celestia’s evaluation of her student and Twilight’s single-minded pursuit of knowledge without the restrictions of social interaction. Out of an impulse, Jon cracked open the bathroom door and watched out in the main room. It only took a few moments before what he expected happened, when a pale violet glow gently lifted up the chair he had stuck under the suite doorknob. The door swung open to reveal two nonplussed pegasus guards out in the hallway, along with one curious purple unicorn who gave out a brief yelp of surprise. Then after a long and silent pause, the door glided closed again and the chair floated back over where it was before. Jon closed the bathroom door and returned to his bath preparations with a grumble. “It’s no wonder the girl doesn’t have any friends.” - - Ω - - A brisk bath later, with some awkward kneeling and bending in the tub to get his hair properly shampooed, and Jon Walthers was ready to face the day. Well, what was left of it. He put on his tweed jacket, which had been cleaned and pressed, as well as trimmed and tidied up to the point where it was nearly indistinguishable from when he had purchased it. A fresh linen pocket square with an Equestrian emblem was stuck in his vest pocket, and even the one chipped button had been replaced so expertly Jon could not even remember which one it was. There was no need for his formal rose gold cufflinks since he most likely was going to spend the rest of the day with his new student, so he put on his plain silver cufflinks, a comfortable shirt and khaki pants. Then he looked around for his shoulder holster, which of course was missing, along with the small cardboard box of extra rounds in his luggage, although there was a note in Celestia’s exquisite calligraphy. My city is perfectly safe, Mister Walthers. Since he really could not argue with her logic, he went back into the bathroom and measured out a small dab of Brylcreem to get his hair to lie down correctly and prepared a little dose of patience when he walked out of the bathroom to find Twilight Sparkle and Spike waiting for him in the suite. “Sorry for taking so long, Miss Sparkle.” Jon slipped on his shoulder bag, which after a quick peek, showed signs of having been carefully inventoried by the unicorn student while he had not been looking. “Shall we be off to find something for lunch? We’re not going to be going outside for a while, I suppose, or I should change shoes.” After spending all of yesterday in his lace-up boots, Jon was looking forward to some time in comfortable loafers, and relaxed a little when Twilight shook her head. “No, Mister Walthers. Ah…” She stopped, and the dragon opened his mouth to speak in her place. “Aren’t we—” The dragon cut off abruptly when Twilight Sparkle clapped a hoof over his mouth, then she grinned insecurely, pushed Spike out the front door and briskly strode down the corridor with Jon following along. - - Ω - - Jon had been in a few European castles before, mostly as part of several tours when he was still in elementary school and his parents had been determined to expand his world beyond the library. Every tour had been led by a dour guide who expounded upon the critical nature of the huge stone structures and how on this date, this king tried to break them down, and on that date, that king took refuge inside them. Twilight Sparkle was quite the change from the usual doddering old lady who ran the tours, and answered his questions about various wings and hallways of the Canterlot castle with an unbroken string of “I don’t know” and “I’m not sure.” She did know about the library wing, or more correctly wings. The huge building had multiple places where flocks of books seemed to overwinter or migrate between seasons, perching in related groups from the spellbooks of the magic school, to the history books in the administrative section of the castle, and the books of art and poetry in the more cultural portions. The whole castle seemed to be made of stairs and corridors, intermixed with art galleries in the interior spaces and brightly colored stained glass windows for the exterior, although something must have been wrong with Jon’s sense of direction, because ‘outside’ walls quite frequently were not where he expected. He brushed off the confusing sensation by attributing it to magic, because after all, if he were an immortal powerful alicorn who was supposed to control the sun and moon, he would have outside walls wherever he wanted them too. His questions caused the tour to take on a randomness with more than a few missed turns and sections while they backtracked through previously discovered areas. No doubt, the three of them could have wandered the halls for hours, but after several distracting diversions, Jon remembered to mention the topic of their delayed lunch again. With that word, the tour came to an abrupt end, and Twilight turned to head down the maze of corridors at a near trot. The decor and quality of the artwork on the walls was certainly increasing at a rapid rate with their current path, and despite their goal and his growing hunger, Jon had to stop abruptly to marvel at an oil painting in a small niche. “My word.” He leaned closer to inspect it at close range, feeling vaguely guilty that there was not some museum guard to order him away from the masterpiece. The image of a man dressed in seventeenth century clothing and holding a tall black hat looked back at him, although his face was lacking the typical tidy beard of the period. “Is this a Rembrandt?” “Portrait of a Man Holding a Hat,” said Twilight Sparkle, sparing a glance back over her shoulder and moving her hooves in little click-click-click noises against the granite tiles as if she were in desperate need of a bathroom. “Princess Celestia has several of them. Can we hurry, please? We’re almost there.” “But…” Sparing the portrait one last look, Jon trailed along after his guide, up one last set of stairs and to a set of double doors with a pair of armored Equestrian guards in front of them. Between the guards was a large dark pegasus with a slicked-back violet mane and a look of suffering patience, which he directed at the incoming three individuals of varied species. “Miss Sparkle. Sir.” His low baritone voice raised the hair on the back of Jon’s neck and made him oddly interested in what the pegasus’ singing voice sounded like. “Her Highness and her guests are waiting on you. Shall I announce you and your…” The pegasus’ golden eyes swept up to Jon’s face, considered him for a moment, then returned to Twilight with an unspoken question. “Guest,” said Twilight Sparkle. “Or teacher. Or both, I suppose. Doctor Walthers,” she finished with a sharp nod before a hesitant quaver snuck into her voice. “Is she… upset?” The dark pegasus turned much like he had not even heard her question, and opened the door. Beyond it, a full dozen or more ponies, each dressed in their finest clothes, looked back. They were seated around large tables with pristine white linen tablecloths and priceless crystal glasses, and what Jon suddenly realized were very empty plates, which most likely were supposed to have been filled with food more than an hour ago. At the head table slightly above the rest was Princess Celestia, sitting just as patiently as if she was willing to wait years or even decades for her wayward student and embarrassed teacher to arrive and fill the empty seats to the right side of her. “Announcing Lady Twilight Sparkle,” said the dark pegasus in that low, rumbling baritone voice. “And her guests, Spike the Dragon, and Doctor Walthers.” There might possibly have been one or two of the wealthy ponies in the room who whispered “At last” under their breath, but that was drowned out by Princess Celestia rising regally from her cushion and gesturing toward the door. “Come in, come in, Twilight. Prince Blueblood had to depart on a previous engagement, so you and Spike can sit right here next to me, and Doctor Walthers, was it? You may be seated here.” - - Ω - - There was really no subtle way to ask how late they were to the luncheon, but Jon had a sneaking notion the answer was “Very” if not “Extraordinarily.” He had barely put his rump rather uncomfortably into a human-scaled chair on the other side of Twilight Sparkle while Spike sat down on Celestia’s left side, when the waiters began to flow into the room with plates of hor d’ oeuvres, some of which were nearly eaten right off the trays by the impatient diners. The dish of butternut squash ravioli that was slipped in front of him looked fine, and after a momentary glance to one side to ensure Princess Celestia had begun to eat, he dipped his spoon into the bowl. Equestrian dining review: Although the butternut squash ravioli at this establishment was visually appealing, the pasta was rubbery enough to be used as rubber, and the sauce had turned into a thick gluey substance by the time I was served. No Michelin star for you. “I’m sorry.” The voice was barely over a whisper while Twilight Sparkle’s head was nearly touching the tablecloth, and if Jon had not heard his new student speak before, he would have never known it was her because her lips just barely moved. “That’s quite alright, Twilight.” Celestia’s spoon moved with the inevitable grace of a ballet dancer, making Jon suddenly realize how much larger the bowls and spoons were at her place setting, and the corresponding larger number of calories the Sun Princess would need as opposed to her much smaller subjects. “I’m certain you and Mister… that is Doctor Walthers were learning all about each other.” Until I chased her away from the bedroom keyhole. “I must beg your pardon, Your Highness,” said Jon once he had chewed his way down to a place where he could swallow without choking. He took a quick sip of wine and continued, “I was unaware of the schedule for today, and I’m afraid I detained your student with a number of questions during our trip here.” “No, it’s my fault,” insisted Twilight Sparkle, although she managed to say it while lifting her head and turning unexpectedly in Jon’s direction. Her rising horn jostled his wineglass in the process, making a splash of crimson droplets spray over the tablecloth. “Oh, I’m sorry! That’s my fault too. Let me get—” Her magic formed around the linen napkin at her place setting, which would have completed the disaster due to the full wineglass on top of it. But when she yanked the napkin in his direction, a faint gold aura formed around the glass and caught it before it spilled, floating it back into position while Twilight dabbed away at the stain and murmured something about having once read about a spell which could ‘fix it’ if she could just remember how it went. It was only natural to look at Celestia’s face, and it caught him by surprise when he found her looking right back at him, and even winking once, as if to reassure Jon that episodes like this were only natural, and that with enough patience, things would normalize out again. In the few minutes it took for the appetizers to all vanish, the lunch did settle down, although most of that was from Twilight Sparkle having opened one of her books below the table edge and spending her time reading instead of upsetting glasses. The salad course was adapted for the presence of the human guest, with the wilted tulip petals on the ponies’ plates replaced by shriveled spinach leaves for him, and kale for all of them, even though Jon considered the tough green to be… less than desirable. Once imminent starvation had been averted, there was polite conversation at the table, in that slightly disconnected fashion that Jon had become familiar with when talking with somepony who did not need to be looking directly at their conversational partner to hear every word spoken. It made him wish his own ears could be swiveled in the same fashion, or that he could look around the room and take in all of the Equestrian colors and clothing fashions while still eating. Primarily, he was introduced to one of Celestia’s oldest friends, Fancy Pants and his beautiful wife Fleur, recently back from their estate in France where he had met and wed the elegant unicorn. She was a third-generation French pony, who had a fairly established family and fashion business until ‘le boche!’ His name earned Jon more than a few cross looks at the beginning of the meal, but tapered off into a grudging acceptance when she found he was actually from the US, spoke Equestrian, and had opinions of the German Reich quite similar to her own. Jon had always considered Equestrians to be visiting wherever they were, since nearly every teacher or student he had met in his career was measuring the days until they could return to their home. Now that he was at their home, the few expatriates who had returned here due to Celestia’s command stood out as much as the occasional pony had amidst all the humans from his own home. A few more questions unleashed a flood of information from the popular fashion model about France and the beautiful place it had been, until ‘le boche’ again, of course. It was not until the portabella mushroom bourguignon with rice, a dish that suited both pony and people palates, was served for the main course before Jon remembered the reclusive unicorn he was supposed to be working with. He had never thought purple made for good camouflage before, but Twilight Sparkle had managed to make it work. By remaining silent and nearly motionless, she had become almost invisible against the powerful Princess of the Sun to one side and the exotic and out of place human being on her other side. A state of semi-privacy in a public venue seemed to be perfectly acceptable to Twilight. She looked to be nearly through her second book, and was only poking absently at the delicious main course, even when Jon leaned over and asked her, “So, do you have mushrooms for lunch very often?” “Yes,” she responded almost automatically. After waiting for a polite few seconds to see if any more words were forthcoming, Jon looked up and over to Princess Celestia with a questioning look that she read just as easily as the book Twilight Sparkle had tucked under the table edge. “Twilight,” she gently chided. “I’ve told you before to not read at the table.” “Uh-huh.” Twilight turned a page. The quiet clink and rattle of silverware against ceramic died down over a few seconds as all of the rest of the diners surreptitiously pretended not to notice the way Princess Celestia’s student was disobeying the Supreme Monarch of the Principality. Jon could see what was going to happen when Twilight quit turning pages, and moved quickly to counter what could easily be a quite embarrassing moment for her. “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” said Jon relatively briskly while slipping a hand over the open book. “She’s so eager to get started on her lessons. I’ve never had a student this focused on a new field of study.” Twilight Sparkle looked up with a start and opened her mouth to object, only to have Princess Celestia’s strong voice override her. “Of course, Doctor Walthers. You will find my student to be very attentive.” “A new course of study?” A well-groomed stallion a few seats down the table looked over with his ears perked up to sharp points. “Has she run out of topics in Equestria already?” “No, of course not,” countered Jon over the sound of discreet giggles from the rest of the guests. He tried to remember just what subjects Celestia had mentioned her student was already advanced in, and did not come up with any specifics other than ‘lots.’ “I’m supposed to be learning about friendship,” blurted out Twilight. “Even though I’m already really accomplished in that regard.” It was a statement which seemed to be regarded as quietly funny by most of the lunch guests, although the resulting snorts of laughter and occasional loud giggle were strenuously suppressed by the presence of their liege just a few yards away, who quite obviously did not consider the statement to be humorous at all. “It’s true,” insisted Twilight as she picked up her metaphorical shovel and continued to dig. “I have a lot of friends. Well, some friends,” she qualified. “Enough friends.” - - Ω - - Having survived lunch with Princess Celestia, an unknown number of minor nobility and close friends of Her Highness, and a dragon, Jon considered his life to be going pretty well, at least by comparison to his student. Twilight Sparkle fairly moped through the rest of the lunch, although she did eat more than her previous bird-like pecking after her nose was pried out of her book. Once dessert was served—a delicious honey yogurt panna cotta, chilled and served with fresh raspberries—the dinner guests were encouraged to migrate next door to a comfortable sitting room. Jon found himself clinging rather irrationally to his flute of red wine on the short walk, not from the size or the impact of the fairly small amount of wine he had managed to hold himself to, but as a symbol of comfort. Even after having been exposed to other ponies during his travels, he still found it fascinating the way a pegasus or earth pony could bend their flexible fetlocks around a delicate glass and sip from it while walking. It gave them all a few minutes before new little knots of conversation were to start up again, and Jon took advantage of the pause to quietly apologize to Twilight Sparkle. “I’m sorry for taking so long to get ready for lunch, Miss Sparkle. Once we’re done mingling, is there anything else on the agenda this afternoon?” It did seem to cheer up the dejected pony, because her ears went from drooped flat on both sides of her face to almost erect again. “Spike,” she announced. “The list, please.” “Here you go.” Spike handed Jon several sheets of thick paper which were nearly covered in the spidery Unicorn script that he always had trouble reading. “And a copy in German,” added the little dragon while passing up a similar sized bundle. Naturally, the first item on the checklist was ‘Make a copy of the checklist in German just in case Professor Walthers does not read Equestrian,’ followed by a box ‘Remember to check off boxes on both checklists when each item is complete.’ With great solemnity, Jon removed the fountain pen from the inside pocket of his jacket, made sure the nib was damp, and checked both boxes on both sheets. “Seems fairly straightforward. Lunch, a few drinks to unwind afterward, a movie…” He glanced up from the list, then down again when he realized he was not talking to a human, and that Twilight Sparkle, horn and all, only came up to his chest. “Any idea what the movie is?” “I hope it’s the baseball movie!” proclaimed Spike. “You like baseball?” asked Jon. “We don’t have baseball games here,” insisted Twilight. “But I know all about baseball from the movies, with all the mobsters and murders. It seems very dangerous, and not very friendly.” “Murders?” Jon thought back to the last Dodgers game he had listened to on the radio. It had gotten a little rough, but nothing deadly. “Death on the Diamond,” said Spike. “It’s a really great movie with motorcars and crooks and cops.” He put on a frown and crossed his arms. “Ever since I took her to see it, she won’t let me watch movies any more.” “Spike,” chided Twilight Sparkle. “Violence never solves any problem. Besides, I don’t think it has been dubbed in Equestrian for the rest of the guests. Or at least I hope not,” she added in a low undertone. Skipping ahead on the list, Jon checked his watch. “We’re too late for the movie, anyway, but Princess Celestia has a discussion scheduled afterward, and then a tour of a new art gallery in the…” He stopped and squinted at Twilight Sparkle’s precise German writing on the list. “Hall of Suggestive Pillars?” “Oh, we’re not late for the movie.” Twilight Sparkle was obviously wrong. Jon checked his watch again just as Celestia proceeded out the door with all of the minor royalty and associated socialites following along like baby ducks after their mother. He really expected some sort of subtle shift in their social schedule, such as moving directly to the art gallery and just not mentioning the missed movie at all, but after a brisk walk with the rest of the royal herd, he found himself in what was obviously a private movie theatre lobby for the exclusive use of the Princess and her guests. Well, an Equestrian movie theatre lobby, done in a style that fairly screamed ‘Cost is No Object.’ A Rockefeller or Carnegie would have felt perfectly at ease here, and perhaps would have taken notes on the carved frescoes and elaborate decor for the constant struggle for affluence recognition that the wealthy seemed to treat as a contest with prizes. The lines of sparkling rhinestones along the intricate carvings glittered in new electric lights, reflecting off gilded statues and mirrored glass until it seemed as if the dozen or so ponies moving through the room were hundreds, if not thousands prepared to be taken away from the world for a few hours by the magic of film. Jon felt more like an old maid kernel in a bag of popcorn, which was served in ceramic bowls (also precious works of art in their own right) with very little salt (which was understandable, due to the effect it had on the Equestrian physiology) and enough butter to satisfy even the most greedy dragon. He turned down an offer of sugared hay cubes, studied the clock in the lobby, and reset his watch to the correct time. It most certainly did not seem to be as early as the clock said, but he put it behind him, took an ice-cold bottle of Pepsi-Cola from the selection presented to him by the staff, and followed his student into the theatre. Instead of theatre seats, there were only about thirty cushions in the small room, but one was quite obviously Celestia’s. By the color coding of the remaining cushions, Twilight Sparkle would sit at her right hoof, with Spike next and the human’s not-quite-a-chair-but-taller-than-a-cushion spot on the outside. There was a little table with indents for the refreshments between each seat, leaving Jon enough space to put his drink while Spike plunked down the big bowl of buttered popcorn between them and began eating. - - Ω - - Equestrian movie theatres were… different. Not too different in material, because there was the traditional brief newsreel about the war ongoing in Europe, although the audio was dubbed in Equestrian, and the latest episode of Flash Gordon Conquers the Universe, which was not dubbed, but had subtitles in the much more readable Earth Pony script, then at long last, the featured movie. No, Equestrian movies were more of an experience than anything Jon had attended before. He had expected perhaps a hissed ‘le boche’ from Fancy Pants’ French wife during the newsreel, but not the murmurs of sympathy for the humans caught up in both sides of the conflict, and gasps of horror at the sight of huge metal war machines or droning bombers. Flash Gordon was a welcome break, greeted with cheers for the main characters and boos for the villains, calls out from the audience to warn of ambushes and subdued grumbling when the women were left behind during the rescue attempt. But when the opening title for The Wizard of Oz splashed up on the screen, Jon thought he was going to go deaf from the cheering. The ponies sang along with everything under the rainbow, maintained a hushed silence between musical numbers while whispering into each other’s ears, and danced around the theatre during the Jitterbug number. Well, except for Princess Celestia, who he suspected did not dance for anything, and Twilight Sparkle, who was taking notes. What was weirder, he had never done the Jitterbug before, but when the well-dressed and otherwise serious ponies dragged him out into the theatre aisles, he had no problem dancing along with them, in step for a change. When he returned to his seat, panting and out of breath, it took several minutes and the last of his soda before he could ask Spike, “Was that normal?” “Naa,” he whispered in a gust of coconut oil and butter-flavored breath. “Normally, there’s a few ponies with musical instruments who will join in.” A silent usher who refilled their popcorn bowl and brought the confused teacher a fresh soda gave him a few minutes to think, and once he had taken another drink, Jon decided to defer any further questions until later. And when later came, after the movie was over and the social group was in the lobby, discussing what had happened on screen and theorizing on whether Oz was a real subdimensional reality or physical place or not, Jon still could not get up the courage to speak up. Maybe I need a medal too. Funny, I don’t feel like a lion. “Since Doctor Walthers is an expert in humans, maybe he can tell us what the various characters in the movie signify.” Celestia’s casual comment in the ongoing discussion made Jon look up with a start, seeing all of the socialite ponies looking back at him with an anticipatory expression, as if they expected him to start tap-dancing while singing. It was quite ‘on the spot’ compared to his normal tendency to lurk around the edges of a conversation and offer the occasional contribution when the discussion lagged, so he fell back on his earlier musings. “It’s obviously a story about the application of friendship to solve Dorothy's problem,” he started, trying to steer the conversation in a productive direction toward his goal of preventing world-wide disaster. After all, the old saying ‘If you have a hammer, all problems look like nails’ was seeming all too real to him lately, particularly with the world-ending return of Nightmare Moon upcoming. And… the prospective hammer he was supposed to be training still had her nose stuck in a book. He took a breath and continued, trying to sound as professional as possible but feeling a lot like Professor Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs instead. “Although she was stranded in a strange foreign land, Dorothy could have remained in the relatively safe Munchkin village. Instead, she set out on a journey to achieve her goal of returning to Kansas and her family. She offered her help to all of the strangers she met during her journey, and in return, she received assistance in achieving her goal. It’s a very pony characteristic,” he added. Fancy Pants cleared his throat and wiped away a fragment of popcorn clinging to his elaborate mustache. “In my experience, ponies are creatures of comfort, much like Mister Tolkien’s hobbits. You very rarely find ponies out climbing mountains, or trying to reach the North Pole.” “Except for Daring Do,” said Spike. “She travels all over the world, fighting bad guys and—” “Daring Do isn’t real, Spike.” Twilight Sparkle looked up from her notes as if caught in the headlights of a car by her instinctual outburst, and froze with the attention of so many curious eyes on her. “She’s… um… fictional. A.K. Yearling collects outlandish tales from human archeologists and makes up the stories in her books. Right, Princess?” “I can’t say that I’ve ever met Miss Yearling,” said Celestia, just as calm and content in the theatre lobby as Jon could imagine her in formal court. “Your new teacher, however, was being asked about this movie. Perhaps you have some insights into the iconography?” “It’s very violent and quite anti-unicorn, Princess Celestia.” Twilight produced the notebook she had been scratching on during the movie and flipped back a few pages to the chart labelled ‘Fatalities’ in large red letters. “It’s not really—” started Jon before being cut off quite solidly. “After all, a young human girl from a magic-starved world gets thrown into a new dimension where she kills the first magic-using citizen she finds, steals her shoes, and teams up with an idiot, a coward, and a violent tree-killer to murder another magic-using citizen, then flees back to her ordinary world to avoid prosecution for her crimes.” The resulting silence was so thick it could have been sliced into blocks and used as construction material. * * ✹ * * By the time the collection of royalty and odd ‘others’ reached the scheduled art exhibit, Jon was beginning to doubt his own sanity, as well as most of the Equestrian citizens in his immediate vicinity. Spike was a great help, although short enough that Jon was uncomfortably walking hunched-over in order to talk with him in the crowded corridor. It was during the speech by the art historian in charge of the new exhibit—and Equestrians certainly loved their speeches—while Jon was setting his watch for the third time, when Spike poked him gently in the leg and motioned him a little closer. “Give it up. Just leave your watch alone until after dinner this evening.” “What?” Jon glanced at the ornate clock on the wall, which must not have been one of the exhibits because it was recognizable, and adjusted his watch to the last minute anyway. “Is it some sort of time magic?” he whispered in return. “Uh… Yeah, if you want to think of it that way.” Spike glanced down the corridor. “I’ll let Twilight explain it to you when she gets back. I never could make sense of it.” “When Twilight gets back?” Jon took a few minutes to look around at the crowd of ponies, thankful that they were color-coded, but no purple ponies were in the audience, alert and attentive to the museum curator’s speech while taking notes. “Research.” Spike rolled his eyes, but kept his voice very low. “Every time she messes up, she writes a justification for her position to Princess Celestia. She’s never wrong, and is willing to prove that in blocks of a hundred pages each.” “So—” Jon caught the pointed glance the museum curator shot at him and lowered his voice to a bare whisper while remaining painfully stooped over in order to keep his conversation with Spike fairly private. “She’s never wrong?” “Not unless Princess Celestia says so. Then she… goes a little nuts.” Spike scuffed a clawed toe through the thick carpet, but that was as much as he was willing to say on the subject until the tour was over and the group wound up back at their starting point, with the nearby clock displaying yet another time that could not be possible. Jon shook various hooves as the group departed in various directions, each notable or noble taking a few moments to say their goodbyes to the odd biped and the dragon by his side, until the only pony left was the princess. It left him with an opportunity to have a private conversation with Her Highness, which he was starting to guess was most certainly not a coincidence. Celestia gave Spike a subtle head gesture and added, “Go ahead, Spike. I’m sure Twilight will need your assistance to prepare for the diplomatic dinner this evening.” “Yeah,” said Spike, perking up as a thought seemed to occur to him. “Unless Mister Walthers needs me for anything.” He paused with the green frills to the side of his head slowly drooping before turning and jogging away with a final wave. “Guess not. See you this evening!” “Bye, Spike.” Jon waited until he was around a corner before adding to Celestia, “Twilight Sparkle certainly seems to take him for granted.” “She’s been with Spike since the day he was hatched. In fact, she hatched him during her admission to my school. But don’t ask her about it,” added Celestia. “She’s still a little self-conscious about the whole thing. They never did get the roof tiles to match up from where Spike’s head poked out during his growth spurt, and turning one’s parents into potted plants…” Celestia tutted quietly under her breath. “That’s when I knew she was the one. The Elements of Harmony are destined for her. It’s written right there on her flank.” “The six-pointed star with five little white stars around it.” Jon puzzled over the imagery without asking, since some ponies were sensitive about their cutie marks. Asking a pony how they got their mark was far more intimate than asking for an astrological sign, and Celestia made no further informative releases of information to give him a clue. “Very Jewish,” he added after a period of thoughtful silence. “A leben ahf dir!” “Bite your tongue.” The tranquil peace that surrounded Celestia like a bubble wavered. “I know you’re Jewish from your mother, but I would prefer you not influence my student with your religion.” “Actually, I’m Methodist. Well, raised Methodist Episcopal.” Jon held out a hand and wobbled it back and forth. “I was raised Kosher, but my father is Methodist, which was a great disappointment to my Lutheran grandfather back in Germany and most of my mother’s relatives across New York and elsewhere. It made childhood very complicated, but I had both a bar mitzvah and a first communion, so I really didn’t fit into either congregation and turned mostly agnostic. It did make my college less expensive, though. Scholarships from both communities.” “Oh.” Celestia looked honestly surprised, most likely because that little fact had not made it into his dossier, but she recovered quickly. “Well, in any event, I do not wish to find my student taking Catholic vows or dressing up in feathers to dance around a ceremonial fire with a bone through her nose.” “No bones.” Jon held up his hand. “I promise. Boy Scout’s honor.” Celestia huffed and began striding down the hall. “None of that either, please. We shall see you at the dinner this evening. White tie, please.” A guard appeared as if by magic and led Jon away through the maze of hallways and back to his room, but he could not help but think of what Spike would look like in a cub scout uniform. After all, he was a very clever young dragon who enjoyed the company of his pony peers. And if Jon remembered correctly, there was a version of the Scouts who had gotten a hoof-hold in the Equestrian principality, with uniforms and cookies just like their human counterparts. Certainly, Spike would be able to get a merit badge in fire-building, at the very least.