“Are y’all sure they’re in there?” Apple Bloom asked.
A lone voice, but a faint whisper in the night, echoed through the castle’s darkened hallways. With it the clatter of hooves, the squeaking of a creaky wagon wheel, and the shuffling of motion, signalled the arrival of the Cutie Mark Crusaders.
They gathered below the entrance to the castle throne-room, the gilded doors looming overhead. Their intricate carvings glistened in the night, reflecting the flickers of lantern light as Zipporwhill approached. Any normal pony would’ve found it intimidating, or impressive. She, however, only found it exhilarating.
This was it. There was no way they wouldn’t be in here. She trotted to the door and leaned with her weight against it, propping herself up with a hoof on the door as she listened for motions inside.
So far, nothing. It must be sound-proofed.
“Yeah.” Zipporwhill nodded. Pulling herself away from the wall of gold, she turned to address the earlier question, looking to Apple Bloom’s question. “If they’re not in the tower”—
Apple Bloom nodded. “Eey—” She was half-way through her Big Mac impersonation when she suddenly caught herself, and shook her head. “Nu-uh, I didn’t see anything.”
Zipporwhill then turned to Scootaloo. Still chewing, she had her cheeks puffed out as she crammed the last bite of an almond biscuit into her. “Mhm,” she hummed, wiping her mouth, and then shook her head.
“... And they’re not in the—”
“Woah!” Sweetie Belle stumbled forwards, breaking line to cut in front of Zipporwhill. “I thish—“ she slurred, swaying on her hooves as she struggled to keep her balance. Sweetie Belle slumped sideways, and tumbled into Scootaloo’s side, startling the filly as she grabbed her mane to keep her balance. “I think there wash shomtihng wrong with that—” she hiccupped, and slid downhill —“Grape jeuce.”
“—cellar.” Zipporwhill finished. Resisting the urge to facehoof, she turned away from Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo and went to grab the handle of her wagon. “Anyway, Zipp continued, stepping past Apple Bloom with the cart trundling behind her, “They have to be the throne room. There’s no other place they could be.”
“...Okay...” Apple Bloom agreed. She and Scootaloo, the latter struggling to stay standing whilst supporting Sweetie Belle, watched as Zipporwhill lugged the cart behind her.
The filly heaved and wheezed, pulling with all her might. The mountain of bits jingled and swayed as she slowly inched the cart right up to the throne-room doors. Then, once she was satisfied with its position, Zipporwhill paused to straighten her sash, and trotted around the cart to open the doors. “Okay,” she whispered over her shoulder, pausing with her hooves on the golden, poised to enter. “Keep closhe,” she lisped, “and follow my lead.”
~ ~ ~
Princess Celestia sat—lay—across her golden throne, reclined sideways with her hooves in the air and horn dimly lit as she levitated a silver hoof-mirror beside her. “I must say,” she hummed, silently to herself, eyes glued to her mirror as she admired her new reflection. “Cadet Zephyr Breeze did a wonderful job. I couldn’t have asked for anything better myself.” There was a pause. Smirking, glanced away from the mirror, casting her gaze down to the guards beside her. “Wouldn’t you agree?” she asked.
The guards flinched. Struck cold with fear, they both turned pale, and froze on the spot. Armour rattled between them as the right guard grappled with his spear, before flashing a salute and holding his position.
For the first few second, neither made a move to budge. They held their posts, sweat dripping from their brows, neither quite sure what to do.
With every second that passed, the silence grew all the more awkward. Ears and tails flicked, and the guard’s brows furrowed with worry. They could feel Celestia’s gaze burrowing into the backs of their necks, beckoning to them. A soft rattle started between them, growing louder as they trembled in their boots.
The right guard bit his lip and, at length, he looked slowly to his comrade, terror written across his battle-hardened gaze. “I-” He swallowed. “Is she talking to us?”
The other guard refused to answer. Instead, steadily, he jerked his chin in a near imperceptible nod, sweat beading his forehead as he stared back. “Wh- What do I do?”
A shiver ran up both their spines and armour clattered as they fought to keep their poise. “I don’t know!” the first guard croaked, his voice crackling just barely above a whisper, “We weren’t trained for this!”
“Uh...”
Gulping, the second guard glanced around, looking to the ornate carvings and stained-glass windows, hopeful that any of it would offer some kind of solution.
“Uh...” He swallowed hard, forcing back the urge to panic—C-Come on, you’re a royal guard, for Celestia’s sake! You can do this. He cleared his throat. For lack of any better options, he decided the best course of action would be to ‘wing it’, as the privates say. “Princess, you—uh—your mane is—uh—“
“I mean,” the other guard stepped in. He kept his eyes trained ahead, hooves trembling as they tightened about the shaft of his spear. “I—we, think your mane is—”
SLAM
The guards were cut off, and none too soon either. They let out a collective sigh as the room burst a thunder. There was a resounding crash and slam as the front doors flung themselves open, and then a filly’s voice yelled out, startling everypony present.
“Aha!”
“What in the—” Startled, Celestia almost jumped from her seat. She let out a cry, dropping her mirror and barely caught herself as she pitched over the edge, coming to a halt inches from the hard steps below.
The guards stood to attention. Leaping into action, they jumped to a stance before the princess, holding up their spears ready for battle. They watched, brows furrowed, ears twitching, as the room was filled with commotion.
Slowly, gradually, the sounds of many hooves came trotting their way. The squeaking of wheels—a war machine, maybe? –creaked from the darkness outside.
There was the chatter of more voices and, finally, they bore witness to the faces of their new foes.
Not one, not two, but three little fillies—Scootaloo and Apple Bloom, with Sweetie Belle trussed across their backs, trotted into the room, accompanied a fourth with a wagon of more bits than anypony ever imagine. Their leader, a green filly with a sash, crooked beret, and a smug grin that could kill the most grinchiest of grinches trotted up the aisle and came to a stop before them.
Zipporwhill puffed her chest out proudly, taking one look at the startled princess, and then turning to her comrades. “See?” She asked the crusaders by her side, glancing to each of them in turn. “I was right! I told you she would be—”
“Oh my Celestia!” Apple Bloom gasped, cutting Zipporwhill off as she set eyes on the princess.
She mirrored Scootaloo perfectly as they slapped their hooves over their mouths, whispering. “... what happened her mane!?”
Sweetie Belle, still drunk and flushed bright red, swayed on Scootaloo’s back. She eyes the princess, eyes crossing, and then shouted “Raspberries!” before proceeding to blow raspberries into each of her friends ears, pulling their mane, and toppling to the ground where she let out a quiet.
“Well... okay then.” Celestia huffed, and pulled herself to her hooves. He reclined back into her throne, casting a quick spell to straighten out her mane. The bright pink locks sparkled in her aura, seemingly coming to life as they drew back from her face, and caught themselves up into a similarly coloured hair-tie floating beside her.
The last thing to be corrected was the bangs—a style that, Zipporwhill admitted, reminded her of her local librarian, if she dared dye her mane. The guards snickered between themselves as Celestia brushed out her bangs, and leaned back in the throne. He crossed her hooves, and trained Zipporwhill in her gaze, raising an eyebrow as she did so. “Now,” she said, flicking back the odd curl with her hoof, “I liked this”—the sarcasm was palpable—“Then you’ll love my sister’s buns.”
“Hark!” As if on cue, Princess Luna’s voice came muffled, from outside. “Did somepony mention my buns?” It was followed by a crash. Somepony screamed, and a door was slammed; Several doors slammed, and then the unmistakeable sounds of hooves against marble as the princess approached.
A door beside Celestia’s throne was thrown open, and the princess of the night herself appeared in the doorway. She strode into the room, looking around excitedly, her mouth full and chewing, surrounding by crumbs, as two foot-tall cinnamon rolls floated on either side of her head. “Oh my,” She took one look at the fillies and then, taking another bite of her rolls, Luna looked to her sister. “Ish sashn’sh aware we were shashing guesheshsh?” she spat.
“Luna, please,” Celestia deadpanned. Resisting the urge to facehoof, she wiped the spittle and pieces of food away from her face. “I can barely understand—”
Luna cocked her head. “Whash?” she spewed more food as she trotted closer to her sister. “Whash swrosh wish me shewin’ wish m—“
“It’s bad manners! And I can barely understand a word you are saying!”
“Whe’s, we dosh shompha’ asho sho shed mashers...”
“Ahaha!” With the princesses distracted, Zipporwhill jumped to action. She laughed her most nefarious laugh, and grabbed the handle of her wagon. Then, pausing just long enough to whisper to the Crusaders—“Quick! This is our chance, get the doors!”—she left Apple Bloom and Scootaloo to their task and approached the bottom steps of the throne.
There were several grunts and groans—and Sweetie Belle’s snores—that sounded behind her as the doors began their long and slow journey, inching shut. Zipporwhill ignored it for now, instead focusing to the princesses and striking her most fearful pose. “Hahah!” She scrunched her muzzle, “I’ve got you know, Princess!”
“...and, for another matter, stop leaving the toilet seat up when you—What?” Celestia cut herself off. Both princesses halted their argument to glance to the filly before them, staring down at her in confusion.
They glanced to each other. Princess Luna muffled a snicker and Celestia, realisation dawning on her, silently mouthed, ...oh. She rose to her full height, looking down to Zipporwhill with a raised eyebrow. “...Oh?”
Zipp continued, unaffected. “I have you now, Princess Celestia, for I am not just any old filly scout!” With a flurry, Zipporwhill dropped her wagon’s handle and cast away her ingenious disguise. Tearing off the sash, she grabbed at the beret. “Behold, for I am—” She pulled on the beret. It tugged against her mane, and remained thoroughly stuck to her head. “Oh, come on,” she silently cursed, “now you don’t want to—” She pulled at it again, and again the beret refused to budge.
“Uh...”
Blushing intensely, Zipporwhill tried to hide her reddening cheeks as she looked meekly up to the princesses. She smiled, gesturing with her free hoof for them to wait. “H- Hold on, just one second.”
“Take your time.” Celestia said, sharing a snicker with her sister.
The princesses continued to giggle between themselves as Zipporwhill pulled aside. She turned her attention to the beret, grabbing it between her hooves, this time pulling on it with all her might. Come... She grunted from between gritted teeth. ...on— The beret popped free, flying away from the filly’s head to reveal the silver tiara beneath. “Aha!” she screamed, and spun around to face the princesses, puffing out her chest once more. “Behold, for I am—”
“A Princess?” Princess Luna threw in.
“N—” Zipporwhill scrunched. “No!” She stamped her hoof, shaking her head. “I’m a Royal Assassin!” Then, taking a step, hopped up the bottom steps of the throne and threw a hoof out, pointing directly at Princess Celestia. “And I’m here to kill you!”
The guard’s ears flattened, and their thin smiles lowered in a scowl as they glanced to the filly between them. Before, they’d simply been listening half paying attention, not really interested in the princesses’ business with a foal. Now, though, Zipporwhill had their full undivided attention, as did she the princess’.
“Oh?” Celestia asked. Ears pricked, she leaned forwards in her throne, brushing back her mane as she rose to her hooves. “You are, now, are you?” She kept her eyes trained on the filly, smiling as she started, slowly, down the steps.
Princess Celestia practically towered above Zipporwhill; wings spread and coat glistening in the dim light of the hall. She held her wings erect as she nodded ever so slightly. “And, pray tell,” she said, “How do you plan to do that?”
“L—” Zipporwhill squeaked. Her eyes as wide as dinner plates, she stumbled back off the steps and out from under the princess’ shadow. “L- Like this!” She scampered back to her cart, pushed the bits away, scattering them across the floor as she began to rummage through it, digging deep to pull out her secret weapon.
“Behold!” Zipporwhill’s voice echoed from within the cart, and the filly then emerged with her secret weapon. In the blazing light of holy fire, she held the scabbard above her head for all to see. “My secret weapon, Arceseus, ze Alicorn Slayer! With this mighty sword, I will rend your flesh like a knife through hot butter!”
Brimming with might, she swung the blade, pouncing upon Princess Celestia before anypony else could befall the wrath of her mighty blade. “Yaaah!”
BAP
A beat of silence.
Celestia looked down, one eyebrow raised. Zipporwhill looked back up to her with a gnarly grin.
More silence.
Silently, something clicked in Celestia’s mind and her eyes widen. “Oh.” Realisation dawned on her, and she repeated, louder this time. “Oh!” She stumbled away from the foal, clutching at her chest with one hoof whilst throwing her other across her forehead. She reared back— “Oh woe is me!”—proclaiming to the heavens, “I have been defeated!” and dropped to the ground with a resounding thud.
Zipporwhill’s grin grew wider, and all the more gnarled, almost manic in fact. “Hahaha!” she cheered, but not for long before Celestia rolled onto her back, hoof still draped across her forehead.
“I’m dying! Whatever shall I do? My pitiful alicorn might was no match for the great Zipporwhill and her magical blade!”
Zipporwhill stopped, her grin wiped clear from her face, replaced with a clear pout. Her ears flattened, face scrunching as she growled. “You faker!”
“I’m dyi—” Celestia paused. She glanced to Zipporwhill to look her in the eye. Face completely blank, she blinked once, her head with an innocent look about her. “Sorry, was I not convincing enough?”
The sounds of hooves clapping drifted in from the far side of the room, and Princess Luna shouted over, masking her giggles. “I thought you were a wonderful actor, sister.”
“Ah!” Celestia shouted, and shot a hoof to her sister, glancing to her momentarily before looking over the room and back to Zipp. “See? She agrees with me.”
Zipporwhill’s pout deepened, quickly turning into a full blown frown, that only seemed to cause her cheeks to puff out with trembling rage. “Die!” she screamed, seething with rage. Her voice crackled, breaking pitch as she tried to shove it full with all the malice she could manage. “Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!” She continued to screamed, swinging her wooden sword furiously as she proceeded to wail on the alicorn princess.
BAP, BAP, BAP, BAP, BAP
“Hey!” Celestia stifled a laugh. She squirmed and wriggled, desperately trying to pull away and out of Zipporwhill’s reach. “Quite it! That’s st—” She snorted, and caught the tail end of a laugh as the sword grazed a particularly sensitive area. “That’s starting to tickle!”
BAP-BAP-BAP-BAP-BAP
“Ah!” Celestia gasped. She was almost overtaken by giggles as Zipporwhill redoubled her efforts. “Help! Somepony!” Craning her neck, Celestia kicked her legs and reach out in desperation. “Guard’s, she’s—” Another giggle cut her off.
The guards, still frowning, looked between them with concern, their eyebrows raised as if they were silently, asking each other What the hay is going on!?.
There was a moment of hesitation before one of them took a deep breath. He lifted his staff, starting towards them before he was halted by Princess Luna’s words.
“Oh, I don’t know, Sister,” she said, muffling her own laughs, and rolled her eyes, “She looks awfully powerful.”
“Princess Lunacious Diane Faust!”
“Okay, okay”—Luna doubled back from her sister’s rage, hooves raised to try and fend off the flames. “Fine., I’m coming.”
“Yaaaaaah!” All the while, Zipporwhill continued to scream in her blind rage, swining and pummelling the giggling princess beneath, her face flushed red and scrunched with determination. “Die-die-die-die”
She was so focused on destroying her foe that she barely even registered the pair of gilded, blue hooves the trotted up beside her.
“Di—” Zipporwhill cut herself off as, seemingly out of nowhere, her sword stuck in the air mid swing. “Wha—” She pulled against it, and was surprised again as the sword pulled back, lifting her clear into the air.
“Okay, that’s enough now,” Princess Luna said. Her face slowly came into view, a frown—and the slightest smirk still visible among the crumbs of cinnamon swirl. “Let go of th—”
“Hey!” Zipporwhill screamed, her voice crackling with her most ferocious, deathly, and totally not adorable as – Flailing her hooves, kicking and swinging, Zipporwhill dangled helpless before the princess of the night, shouting, “Let go of me, Wench of the night!”
Princess Luna’s half smirk vanished. “That’s not—”
Before Luna could utter another word, Zipporwhill spun around in her grasp, raising her back legs as she came in for a landing, right across the princess’s face.
SLAM
The Cutie Mark Crusaders and Zipporwhill sat outside the front entrance to the castle, forming a neat line along the sidewalk. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, and the sounds of guards and roosters were heard rising with the crack of dawn.
Sweetie Belle, still hung over from the night before, sat chatting with her friends. “That’s wasn’t so bad,” Apple Bloom said, her drawl partly garbled as she sucked on her lollipop.
“Mhm,” Sweetie nodded. She levitated her own lolly away from her mouth. “Yeah! And it was nice of them to give us something to eat.”
“What about you?” Scootaloo asked, and turned aside. The other two joined her as they looked to filly hunched to their right. Her filly scout uniform only partly scuffed, she sat with her head leaned against her hooves and a frown upon her face. “Zipp?”
“They...” Zipporwhill grumbled, her pout unwavering, “...took my sword.”
Sweetie Belle piped up. “At least you still have your Tiara?”
“I—” Zipporwhill paused. Looking up, she glanced to the tiny trinket still stuck to her head. “Yeah...” She nodded briefly then, straightening the headwear, she stood up straight and held her head high. “Yeah!” she repeated, “You’re right!” This isn’t over yet!”
“That’s not what I—”
Zipporwhill bounced to her hooves, puffing up her chest. She beamed with pride as she spoke. “As long as I still have this tiara, I’m going to keep fighting.” She strolled out into the street, energised with newfound vigour. She held a hoof up in a fist, and spun back to face the Crusaders. “With every last breath in my heart, the princesses will pay for what they’ve done to me today, and—”
“D’aww!” Zipporwhill was cut short from her rousing speech when a female’s voice cooed behind her. “Isn’t she so adorable!”
Before Zipp could so much as give a double take, she was scooped up in a pair of hooves and cradled against a mare’s chest, pressed into her soft fur as Fleur Dis Lee gushed over her. “What are you—” Zipporwhill wheezed. She struggled against the mare’s death grip, scrunching her nose, squeaking as she tried in vain to wrench herself free. “Let me—”
“She even has her own little tiara,” Fleur continued, unawares to the foal’s discomfort, “Just like a little princess.” She practically crushed Zipporwhill, crumpling her sash between her hooves as she squeezed her into a tight hug.
“I—“ Zipp squeaked slightly, wheezing as she pushed back to no avail. Her face turned a hot red as she tried her best to glare angrily into the mare’s eyes. “I am not cute,” she groaned, “I am dangerous! I am a princess a—”
“She’s a princess!”
“No, that’s not—”
“Fancy Pants”—Cutting Zipporwhill off with another, tight, squeeze, Fleur turned around to call her husband over—“Honey, come look at this!” she cried, and trotted away, “We simply have to get one!”
And then she was gone.
Fleur trotted happily away, Zipporwhill still struggling in her grasp, as she took her off to show her husband. There was a faint grumble and a “Fleur, not again...” but otherwise complete silence.
Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom sat together, staring on in silence; their mouths hanging agape. The last thing that remained was the tiny tiara, dropped in the in the middle of the street where it lay after it had been flung from Zipporwhill’s head.
Slowly, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom closed their mouths. Scootaloo folded her wings to her sides, and each of them shared confused looks.
“Well...” Sweetie Belle began, “...that happened.”