Extended Holiday
Ch 115: The Fires of Love
Act 17
“Careful with that double set, darling,” Rarity warned the porter as he strained to haul the pair of suitcases that were easily twice his size into the luggage compartment, and that was only the beginning of the veritable mountain of supplies the mare had packed. The poor stallion had already been promised a week’s leave with double pay for his troubles, and to have any medical expenses that might result from his exertions covered. “Those materials will be absolutely essential, if I’m going to get this wedding reception properly decorated.”
Pensword looked on with a hint of a smile. “Now I know what needs upgrading for military shipments to be made easier for the porters here.”
“At least she’s not making me carry it all,” Grif said. “I just hope we find equally willing ponies in Canterlot.”
“Come on, Grif. I think we both know she’s going to flirt the guards into helping her, and you’re going to wish you’d attached a camera to capture the whole thing,” Vital said with a knowing smirk.
“I would like that.” Pensword chuckled. “Then I can have evidence for retraining.” Then he dropped the smile for a hard frown. “Flirting should not be a weakness,” he groused.
“I understand the military is your job and all, Pensword, but can’t you lighten up just for the wedding? It’s supposed to be a happy occasion, especially this one. I mean, come on, it’s Hammer Strike we’re talking about,” Vital Spark said.
“Last time we had a wedding in Canterlot, Changelings invaded us. Plus, the royal guards for the Queen of England, back on earth, wouldn’t fall to flirting, not even from a Princess,” Pensword growled. “They’ll see the wedding, yes, but. . ..” He sighed. “I just want the guard to be better. They guard the princesses. They are the literal visual stamp for the military. That is what everypony thinks of when we say the word. Guards in flimsy armor that–.” He stopped. “My words would not be good for your ears, Vital. The point is that we need them to change, to be more than a flashy show. They should be the pinnacle of fighting efficiency, not just the image. It’s something to aim towards. Besides, we need to do a better job protecting the princesses.”
“Yeah. Well, for now, I should be able to keep her safe, Pensword. It’s not like anyone who’s going to send an assassin will get a leg up on me.” Grif chuckled.
“You know, he does have a point,” Vital said. “How many assassins was it you mentioned taking out in one night again, Grif?”
“I lost count.” Grif shrugged.
“My point exactly.” Vital smiled. “It’ll be okay, Pensword.”
“Besides,” Rarity pointed out. “Haven’t you forgotten about me, darling?” she asked as she drew Seam Ripper from its sheath. “This isn’t just for show, you know.”
“Maybe, Rarity, but you’re hardly ready for highly trained assassins yet,” Grif chuckled.
“You’re forgetting one thing, darling,” she said.
“Oh, and what’s that?” Grif retorted.
“This is my wedding day, and if anybody gets in the way of my perfect day with my Strikey Wikey, there will be Tartarus to pay,” she growled as her visage darkened. Then she brightened up with a smile. “Just wanted to make that clear for any spies that might be listening,” she sang as two suspicious clouds zipped out of sight, and one of the passengers dropped her coin purse.
“Well, I don’t like the idea of you commandeering the guards for your luggage. Go steal from Blueblood’s staff, or other nobles, if you need to. Make it seem like they are getting the good deal, which they most likely are not.”
“Pensword, those people suffer enough as is. I wouldn’t dare expose them to the pains of taking my luggage. No, I’ll use the usual services, and then I’ll pay someone accordingly to get my things to my quarters. You needn’t worry about a thing,” she promised as she pat his cheek gently.
“Sorry. Sorry. It’s just the bill will probably be ready for presentation and voting after the holidays. I am, that is to say, we, Matthew and I, are still worried, because of that. The more stubborn nobles are going to use every excuse they can to hobble it from the start.” He sighed. “Don’t mind me. I’m just a thousand-year-old grump who wants his old world back in some little way.”
“You just have to look to your wife and your clan for that,” Vital Spark noted. “And us.”
It was at that moment that Hammer Strike arrived, and made his way towards the group with the Shield brothers in tow. “Sorry about that. The staff needed some questions answered immediately. Thankfully, I’m not late.”
“Darling, I know you’d never be late, even if the world were coming to an end,” Rarity said with starry eyes as she advanced on Hammer Strike, and kissed him.
He gave a small smile. “I just wish it took less time to get all that finished. I mean, the train’s leaving soon.”
“Call this a sample, then,” Rarity said with a naughty smirk. “We’ll have all the time in the world during our honeymoon.”
“Can’t wait.” Hammer Strike chuckled.
“Good. I think you’ll enjoy what I have planned. Until then, Darling, it seems I have to get going. Promise to write while I’m gone?”
“I can promise you that.”
“You’d better,” she said with a giggle. “Otherwise, I might have to hunt you down myself, and leave the last touches to somepony else. You know how cross that makes me,” she said with a flirtatious wink as she stepped onto the cab, and opened one of the windows to wave as the engine started up. “Goodbye, everypony! I’ll see you in a couple of weeks!”
“Or sooner, Winds permitting,” Grif added as he joined her, taking the seat opposite her, and pulling out a magazine for some casual reading.
“Bye, Rarity! Good luck!” Vital Spark cheered as the train began to chuff out the station. Suddenly, the rest of the element bearers appeared in a flash of magic as Twilight hovered a massive farewell banner, and the rest of the girls cheered, while Rainbow Dash streaked up to the window to hoof-bump with Rarity.
“We’ll see ya next week for the bachelorette party,” she said with a wink, before flying back to join her friends on the platform. All in all, it was a very nice send off, and just a taste of the events that were yet to come.
“So, Vital,” Pensword said as they sat in his office barely thirty minutes later. “You got the Bachelor party set for Hammer Strike?”
“Pensword, I haven’t even been able to find him a proper gift yet,” Vital said as he deadpanned. “How am I supposed to plan out an entire bachelor party, especially when you and I both know I was never raised with that particular part of human culture? A fun night for Hammer Strike is either taking out a legion of assassins, facing off against someone who might, just might have a chance of posing a challenge, or having a quiet night to just be to himself as he works on a project. And it’s not like we can do a kegger, even if I knew how to do that sort of party, since he literally burns through alcohol before it can so much as register a buzz in his system.”
“What about Shawn? You remember him better. Maybe you are thinking too big. Maybe think like a stag party. Close friends hitting the town, just goofing, teasing, and being downright fools. You said Hammer Strike. Why not throw a party for Shawn?”
“You mean reserve the whole arcade and carnival block for us to just nerd out at?”
“I think, if you ask for the money from Hammer Strike, that it would work. But if we are nerding out, Button Mash should definitely be there for the start. I think he and Shawn bonded over one of the hoof held games.”
“I thought Taze was the one who bonded over video games.” He shrugged. “You’d need to get permission from his parents for him to go with us, and to stay up past his bedtime. He is still a young foal, after all.”
Pensword looked at Vital. “Well, you are in charge. What’s your next move?”
Vital Spark groaned. “Why did you guys put me in charge of this again?”
“Because you have the lightest plate of us here,” Pensword answered. “And, frankly, because it’s good training.” He bore his fangs in a toothy grin. “I also happen to love it when cadets squirm.”
“Of course you do. Of flipping course you do,” Vital grumbled. “Okay, give me a bit to work off some of this frustration you just heaped on me. Then I’ll have some letters for you to send to the establishments, along with the corresponding bits. I’ll need a registry of all the gaming businesses in Canterlot as well. Is Preston free to help me?”
“Preston!” Pensword yelled. “Really need an intercom,” he mumbled. Preston entered a few moments later. “Can you get one of Me-Me’s children’s to help Vital here with some items? He asked for you, so he got bold. Still, you can help there, right?”
Preston nodded. “The message has already been sent.” He paused as his eyes flashed. “And, apparently, responded to. Vital, you will work with one of the up-and-coming visible hive members for Canterlot during the wedding. She is one of our best for organization, as well as investigation. Me-Me wishes this event to be the best of the best for Hammer Strike, as thanks for all he’s done for the hive.”
Vital Spark nodded. “Please send Me-Me my thanks. Would you happen to have a communication crystal I can use to make contact with her? I assume she’s already stationed in Canterlot, correct?”
Preston laughed as the maid that he said hello to every morning walked into the room. She fluttered her wings. “Why would I be in Canterlot, when you need my help here? Besides, I can contact our representatives in Canterlot from here anyway, so it’ll be an easy matter to make the arrangements.” She grinned. “So how can I be of service?”
Vital Spark chuckled. “Well, my bad on that guess. I guess we should start off with the most important thing.”
“What’s that?” she asked as she cocked her head.
“What’s your name? You never told me.”
She giggled. “Call me Wasp.”
“Wasp, huh?” Vital chuckled again. “I like it. Well, Wasp, I think we should leave these gentlecolts to get back to their work. We have some planning to do, and reservations to make.” He turned, and nodded to the other two. “Pensword, Preston. It’s been a pleasure, as always.” He bowed the once with a playful smile, and then walked out with Wasp in tow.
“That is, by far, one of the most cheerful Ponies I have ever encountered,” Preston observed. “How does he manage it?”
“I honestly don’t know. Some days, I think he could give Pinkie Pie a run for her money for cheerfulness. Though I hope Wasp can handle his . . . childlike nature.” He paused. “Childlike in a good way, mind you.”
“Of course, Sir.” Preston couldn’t help but chuckle. “Childlike in the fact he’s oblivious to certain mares’ attraction to him? And . . . Sir, do I detect a bit of romantic love stirring for your mate?”
Pensword cleared his throat, and blushed. “That will be all, Preston,” he said firmly. “I have a few more letters to finish, and another recompile for the camps on the bill, before I retire to my quarters.”
“Yes, Sir. Was there anything else you needed me to get for you, perhaps a meal sent up from the kitchens? I know how you can get when you immerse yourself in work.”
“That would be good, Preston. Thank you. Tell Me-Me thank you again, won't you? You have been a lifesaver helping keep things running. Your service truly is one of the most valuable commodities I have in this office.”
Preston’s smile widened. “Thank you, Sir. Knowing that we’re fulfilling a purpose, it’s the greatest gift a drone like me could have, second to a large supply of love, of course.” He chuckled as he made his way to the door. “Good luck, Sir.”
“Thank you, Preston.” As the door shut, Pensword sighed to himself. He had to get this work finished as soon as possible. Moon River didn’t like it when he was late. And besides that, he had to make sure to get ahead far enough to make time for the wedding. He chuckled. “Best get to work.” And with that, he opened the folders to the official copies of the draft for what felt like the hundredth time to review the contents. Everything had to be perfect.
“So, will this do?” Grif asked Rarity as they stood outside the house he’d just purchased in Canterlot. It wasn’t quite the mansion most nobles had, but the three-story Victorian style house was in a convenient location with a large, but tractable yard, a basement, several bedrooms, three bathrooms, a large dining hall, and a fully stocked kitchen. “I figure between the wedding and the bill, we’re going to be spending a lot of time in Canterlot in the next few months, so it made more economical sense to buy a house than rent a hotel.” He paused a moment as he realized the full weight of those words. “Oh, Winds, I can’t believe I just said that.”
“I won’t tell Hammer Strike, if you won’t,” Rarity promised.
Grif chuckled nervously. “Anyway, I figure we can work out of here. It’s large enough that no one will be curious about it, but small enough that I can get to anywhere in the house in five seconds. We aren't staffing it right now, but I can cook, and I think you can clean after yourself. You don’t need a maid right now, right?”
“Grif, who do you think taught Sweetie Belle how to clean in the first place?” Rarity asked skeptically.
“Rarity, you publicly talk about your fantasies of the Canterlot high life. I hate to break it to you, but that’s the Canterlot high life: pay someone to clean up after you, cook for you, and, in some very real cases, dress you. Honestly, I think marrying Hammer Strike was the best option you could have taken.”
“I rather figured that out after Blueblood, Grif,” Rarity pointed out. “There aren’t many stallions like Fancy Pants lying around the courts, you know.” She sighed, and smiled dreamily. “I just happened to get the cream of the crop.”
“Anyway, let’s unload our stuff, and then you can decide if we’re going to needlessly go around Canterlot looking at venues that ‘aren’t quite right.’” Rarity found it particularly eerie that Grifs impression of her voice was so spot on. “Or we can just head to the castle, and check with Celestia when the throne room is free.”
“Why, Grif, I’m surprised.” Rarity widened her eyes dramatically, then smirked. “You actually didn’t call her Sunbutt, for once.”
“I’m on the clock, Rarity. No mercenary loses decorum on the clock, unless it’s paid for,” Grif explained.
“I thought you were being paid,” she pointed out as she levitated her bags in her magical grip, and began floating them through the door to lay neatly next to the staircase.
“Not to torture Celestia with nicknames that would get anyone else fried. Hammer Strike told me to be polite, unless the situation called for it. ‘Be polite, be efficient, and have a plan to kill every single person we meet.’ Those were his exact words.”
“And that’s why I love him so much. He cares about me enough to have a backup plan, should I not be able to defend myself. What a gentlecolt,” she swooned.
“You realize your perfect day is going to be the number one opportunity for terrorists, assassination attempts, and other very nasty things that happen during big events, right?” Grif asked.
“And do you realize the hell Princess Platinum unleashed on her courtiers alone for ruining any number of her events? I’m smarter, more imaginative, innovative, and, when I want something, you’ve seen I always get it, Grif. The term, hell hath no fury doesn’t even begin to describe what I’d do to anyone who interferes with my perfect day.”
“Smarter, yes. You’re comparing yourself to someone who willingly provoked Luna on their first meeting. There are elder gods who wouldn’t commit such an error, but keep in mind she had several Unicorns bordering on god tier backing her, not the least of which being her own father, and Star Swirl the Bearded. Rarity, you're a good student. You're getting very good with your blade, but please remember that a lot of what's going to be sent after you are people who learned how to eviscerate people before they could walk. Don’t take any unnecessary chances. Seam Ripper should be your last resort, unless I say otherwise.”
“Who said anything about me using Seam ripper?” Rarity asked sweetly. Were it anypony other than Grif, a shudder would likely have passed through their spines as they saw the cold calculating behind those sapphire eyes.
Instead, she looked into a colder, more calculated abyss full of experience and knowledge about death, how to dispense it, and how to hold it at bay. “No unnecessary risks,” he told her in a cold, flat tone that brooked no argument.
“Cross my heart, and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” Rarity recited solemnly as she performed the accompanying motions.
“Good,” Grif said as he snapped back to his lighter self. “So, after we get things set up with Celestia, what’s your plan for catering? I know you planned to use the Ponyville girls for flowers, but you never mentioned food,” the Gryphon noted as they entered the house.
“I called in some specialists from around the world, darling. I asked them to prepare two spreads: one for the guests, and one catered specifically to Hammer Strike and Haymin’s palates.”
“You did account for those of us who eat meat and fish, I take it?” grif asked.
“Naturally. I did say around the world, after all,” she said with a wink as they settled into the rather large living room. “I’ve got Kitsune, Gryphons, Kirins, Ponies, Horses, Minotaurs, Zebras, just about anything you can name. After all, Hammer Strike has saved someone important from just about every one of their countries at one point or another. They were only too happy to volunteer for the job. Though I am going to have to talk to several restaurant owners,” she mused.
“How come?”
“With the number of people we’ll be feeding, the castle kitchens simply won’t be enough to supply them all. We’re going to have to buy up whole streets to make enough room.”
Grif groaned. “We’re going to be running around all day, aren’t we?”
“Get used to it, darling. We’re only just getting started,” Rarity said with a wicked little smirk as she sashayed out of the room, and made her way up the stairs with her luggage.
Hammer Strike hummed to himself as he tapped gently at his engraving tool. The golden band beneath his tools rested on the end of the anvil, slowly being rotated as he tried to draw a pattern onto it. While he had been careful to manage his strength, it wasn’t easy manipulating gold on a small scale, as it ended sometimes with him accidentally breaking through the material.
While he could have made the band with something more sturdy, such as silver, it would require a lot more maintenance to keep it from being tarnished. Then there was some other materials in mind, but he couldn’t help but fall back onto the classic golden ring.
“So, big day coming up, eh there, Sport?” a familiar voice asked as the old high-backed chair in the corner of the forge began to creak once again with the weight of a Pony’s body.
“So you return,” Hammer Strike replied as he stopped his tapping.
“Mama is so proud of you!” another familiar voice spoke up as a pair of hooves hugged Hammer Strike hard enough for him to feel it.
Hammer Strike put down his tools, and looked to the duo. “You’re both here?”
“Mama couldn’t stay away when her little lapushka is getting married to a beautiful mare!” Mother Nature said happily. “Although, must make sure to feed her up. She is too skinny for bearing good foals,” she tutted.
“I think it might be that you . . . nevermind. I don’t think I have any valid remark.” Hammer Strike sighed. “I still don’t know how I can see you both,” he finished, muttering softly.
“Oh, that’s easy, Sport. We let you see us. You need the guidance,” Father Time said simply.
“It’s not that easy. I know that as a fact. There’s more to it.”
“Well, we could always have the talk, but that usually doesn’t end so well. Somepony or other always screams ‘spoilers.’ What is spoilers, exactly? Is that some modern lingo you kids use?”
Hammer Strike sighed. “Nothing can be simple. Nothing can be easy. That is the way of life here. Never forget it,” he muttered to himself once again.
“Are you okay, little lapushka? Mama feels like you might be nervous,” Mother Nature offered.
“‘Course he’s nervous. He’s about to get hitched, Dear. Boy’s always looked to work with his hands when he’s nervous. Well, hooves now, I suppose,” Time mused. “He takes after you that way.”
“Aah, Papa!” Mother Nature said as she moved to kiss the stallion gently.
“I have no idea on how to feel right now about this current situation,” Hammer Strike commented.
“Well, Sport, I’ve got some advice for ya, if you’re willing to listen,” Time said.
Hammer Strike hummed curiously.
“You already know how to treat a lady right. What you need to do is figure out how to deal with when you’re going to be needed elsewhere, or perhaps it’s better to say elsewhen. To try to put it into words . . . well, Sport, you’re all over me. And someone’s already tried messing with my tools once. That brought you to then. Or was that it will bring you to then?” He chuckled. “You know, it’s funny. Sometimes, I even confuse myself.”
“I have my plans for how to get back to this point in time, and, if need be, I know how to make ways.”
“There’s something else you need to know, Sport.” Father Time said seriously. “There’s a point where I can’t see you anymore, can’t feel you, or . . . anything, really. It’s all sort of a blur.” He furrowed his brow. “I don’t like it.”
Hammer Strike hummed to himself for a moment. “Sadly, I don’t have a clue as to why.”
Mother nature rolled her eyes, and bopped father time on the head. “Time, stop this. You’re worrying the boy. He should be happy. He’s getting married!”
“As much as I enjoy this conversation, any other particular reason as to why you two are stopping by? So far, it’s only been when something bad happened, is happening, or will happen.”
“Isn’t that just about every other week in this world?” Time asked pointedly as he peered down his nose over a newspaper.
“No. Every week. It’s just that sometimes, it’s not here, nor does it require my attention.”
“Well, no fire this time, Sport. We’re just here to be social,” he promised.
“That’s . . . rare.”
“Well, you are marrying a Pony named Rarity.”
Hammer Strike stared blankly, before slowly turning back towards the wedding bands.
“Come, Papa. We should go,” Mother Nature said after a few minutes. “We can annoy him later.”
“Guess the poor little guy’s got enough to worry about the next couple of weeks anyways,” Time conceded. “Shall we visit the Heavies now, dear? I’m certain they’ve missed you.”
“Da.” She nodded. “Time to make sure Momma’s babies aren't starving to death,” Mother Nature said as she marched dutifully out the door. Father time chuckled as his voice faded to echoes, and then silence, leaving Hammer Strike to continue his work in peace.
. . .
At least, he would have had it not been for a very light hoof tapping at his doorway. A loud gulp sounded, followed by a rather timid sounding male voice.
“Hammer Strike? Can we talk?” The accent was clearly Canadian.
“You’re free to enter, if you can stand the heat of a forge.”
The clopping of hooves let Hammer Strike know the decision well enough as they echoed through the enclosed space. “I don’t believe we’ve had the privilege of meeting in person before.” As Hammer Strike looked up from his work, he beheld a white unicorn with a mane combed simply, albeit neatly towards the left. His bushy eyebrows and mustache added to his rugged looks, and accentuated his big blue eyes. “I’m Hondo Flanks, though most folks in the circuit call me Magnum. I’m Rarity’s father.”
“Welcome. I see you’ve returned from your latest journey to. . ..”
“Prance. We had some investments that needed checking up on, but we dropped everything to get back here as soon as we heard the news. And I just wanted to say, welcome to the family!” Hondo said as he grabbed Hammer Strike’s free hoof, and shook it enthusiastically. “Hope you don’t mind the intrusion, but you know how it is with us fathers. Got to make sure the boy’s the right one, if you know what I mean.” He winked. “So why don’t we start off by you telling me how the two of you met, eh? I want to hear all about it.”
Lighting Dust yawned as she walked off her shift, and looked around in confusion. The last few days, she had been greeted by one of the Heavies, yet they didn’t seem to be here today. After a time, she spotted one of the other mercenaries from the band, and made her way over. “Hey, uh … Doc?” she asked. Even after all this time, she still wasn’t sure whether this Unicorn could be considered a licensed healer or not. At the same time, she couldn't deny the results of his work, or that or his blue counterpart. “Have you seen the two larger ponies? They’re usually around here to share lunch with me, before we head to the range for target practice.”
“The Heavies are busy right now,” Medic said adamantly. “Something to do with the arrival of their . . . mother,” he said in his heavy German accent.
“Ah, well, I guess I should go practice wing blades on the dummies, then.” She shuddered at the manic grin that spread over Medic’s face. “And no, you can’t set any broken bones,” she said flatly as she glared him down. “I’ve heard stories around the base. Just … stay away from me.” She turned, and flicked her tail in annoyance. “Iif you do see the Heavies, tell them I’m waiting at the range.”
Medic sighed. “Of course, Lightning Dust.” Then he shook his head as he muttered under his breath. “Such a waste. And here I thought I would get the chance to isolate the means by which Pegasi like her are so fast. It would be useful in field magic application, yah?” he asked as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“I heard that, and the answer is still no!” Lighting Dust shouted.
Nanami panted happily as she flopped down on the grass, after an intense sparring session with the three best friends she could ever hope to ask for. The combat robes clung tightly to her frame, but it felt good not having to use a glamour anymore to alter her voice or appearance. She finally had the freedom to be herself, even if Ping was still technically a big part of her.
The earth shuddered as Yao, Ling, and Chien-Po collapsed next to her.
“You know,” Yao growled, “you’ve gotten a lot better, since you got that sword of yours.”
“The art of the warrior states a weapon is the extension of the wielder’s being. This sword just fits better than the last one Cheng trained me with.”
“It is very beautiful,” Chien-Po noted. “And your magic interacts very well with the metal. The sacred runes and the energies you channel give you an extra advantage when dealing with harmful spells. You could well be on the edge of the formation of a new branch in combat magic.” Then his stomach rumbled, and the clearing erupted in laughter.
“You know, Chien-Po, that appetite of yours might just get you into trouble one day,” Ling said as he wiped away the mirthful tears.
Chien-Po blushed. “It is a chance I am willing to take. When I get too hungry, I tend to get cranky. You . . . wouldn’t like to see me like that.” He sighed heavily.
“Hey, cheer up,” Ling said as he laid his thin arm on his companion’s pudgy one. “How about we get you some dim sum after our tai chi, hmm?”
Chien-Po’s ears immediately perked up. “With dumplings? And perhaps some rice?”
“The works. My treat,” Ling promised.
“Deal!” Chien-Po grinned, and the others chuckled.
“You might come to regret that decision, Ling. You remember how much he had when the emperor ordered the feast for the safe escort,” Nanami said with a giggle.
“He still can’t eat more than me,” Yao said. A note of challenge played in his voice as he sneered. “I’m the king of the mountain!”
Suddenly, Yao felt two hands smacking the back of his head.
“Now don’t start that again!” they all shouted in stereo. Silence fell for all of five seconds, before the four friends burst into another bout of uncontrollable laughter. It was good to know things hadn’t changed too much, even after the revelation.
“Say, Nanami?” Ling asked as he picked up a stray piece of grass, and twirled it between his fingers.
“Yes, Ling?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Careful,” Yao said as he nudged his companion in the ribs. “Last time you had an idea, we had to run ten laps around the imperial compound, blindfolded.”
“Hey! It wasn’t my fault the sparks got into the powder storage. How was I supposed to know the wisps would go there?”
“Can we please get back on topic?” Nanami asked hastily, before the argument could have the opportunity to get heated.
Ling sighed. “Well, what I was trying to say was, doesn’t that mean you’re going to have to meet with a matchmaker soon? I mean, you’re of age, right? So it’s just a matter of time till one gets sent, isn’t it?”
Nanami’s eyes widened as a surge of energy caused the patch of grass around her to burst into a bright golden inferno, before dissipating to reveal a perfectly bare patch of earth with the kanji for doom repeating over and over in a repeated chain around her. “Oh, gods help me,” she said as she clenched her blade. The other three were wise enough to keep their mouths shut.
“Now then, ladies, I know there’s a proverbial white elephant you don’t want to address, but I really do think it’s about time we got around to it, don’t you?” Rarity asked demurely as she looked up to the princesses of day and night. The sun was just about to set, and the Solar Court had been adjourned for the day.
“Rarity, I really don’t know what you’re–.”
“Princess Celestia, please do be reasonable. We both know how Hammer Strike helped to raise you. That’s a fact. I am far younger than you. That is also a fact. I am marrying the stallion who is essentially your father. I would assume this is rather uncomfortable for the both of you. I’d like to get that out of the way now, if at all possible, so we can enjoy the festivities to come together.”
“That is surprisingly forward of you,” Princess Luna noted.
“It’s a situation that requires it,” Rarity said as she flipped her mane in her usual pampered manner. “When push comes to shove, I always close my deals, and this wedding is no exception. So, why don’t we cut to the chase, and get a few assurances right off the bat. I promise not to invoke the motherly privilege so long as you agree not to be awkward about the relationship we’re about to embark in. After all, I am still technically one of your subjects. That’s hardly going to change, once I marry Hammer Strike.”
“And you won’t be expecting any extra treatment?” Celestia questioned.
“No more so than usual,” Rarity assured her. “Of course, we might need a different room, since we’ll have officially tied the knot by that point, but, aside from that, I won’t really need anything else.”
“I believe the term is, too much information,” Luna said as she winced.
“Princess Luna, really, it’s not like I’m going into anything naughty. You can give us a room far from your bedrooms, if that makes you more comfortable. Hammer Strike prefers being closer to the forges anyways. Speaking of which, I have some designs I’d like to run by the pair of you for the wedding. You two know Hammer Strike better than perhaps anyone else in this world. Surely, you could provide some input to make the theme more, shall we say, palatable for his tastes.”
Rarity pulled out her sketches, revealing the four anvils that had been planned for each corner of the dais they would step up to. An intricate sword rose from their centers, each with the head of a dragon carved for the pommel. Gossamer streamers had been included to flow over the ceiling, giving the impression of flame and smoke with its reds and muted greys, with the occasional streak of blue. Weapons racks and various suits of armor had also been considered, and their sketches lined the edges of the blueprint. Lastly, parchments had been sketched in along each of the walls, and marked with the word BLUEPRINT.
“I know it’s not exactly perfect. I only had so much time to prepare, but any input you two could add would be very much appreciated, particularly since you two know your way around a forge,” Rarity noted.
“You’ve certainly captured him, but I notice there isn’t much of yourself in this design,” Luna noted. “Teacher would not like that.”
“Where do you think the jewels for the sword will be coming from, darling?” Rarity asked with a wink as she looked over the drawing, then frowned. “Though I do see your point. Then again, I could always compensate with my dress,” she mused. “A touch of jewelry here, a bit of makeup there.” Her eyes widened, and she let out a gasp. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of it before?” She hastily pulled out a pencil, and drew in a sketch for a work table with sewing equipment and her new KEVLAR design on it. “Granted, the shroud on the altar will need a little touching up, and maybe a few more religious elements, too. Faust does need her share, after all,” she mused.
Celestia let out a relieved sigh. “Sister, you’ve just helped us dodge a proverbial arrow. Perhaps we should retreat for now, and allow Rarity her . . . her time.”
“That may be wise, Sister,” Luna nodded.
Celestia shuddered suddenly, and her eyes widened. “Oh, Mother,” she swore. “Luna, we still haven’t gotten them gifts!”
“And what, pray tell, do you imagine we could get them?” Luna asked her sister pointedly.
“A honeymoon without having to run back and save the day?” Celestia fished as they walked to the hidden panel that would take them to the royal passages.
“Really, Celestia? Really?” Luna asked as she fixed her sister with the same raised brow they had grown to love and emulate in their own time as rulers of the realm.
Celestia sighed defeatedly. “You’re right. I guess it’s too much to ask.”
Luna patted her sister’s shoulder supportively. “There there. If it still bothers you so much, you still have two whole weeks to think of something. Just make sure to put my name on the gift, too, when you do. You remember our agreement.”
Celestia rolled her eyes. “Yes, Lulu, I remember. You needn’t worry.”
Then Luna embraced her sister, and grinned. “Celestia, you’re the best big sister a Pony could ask for.” She broke off the embrace, and raced down the hall. “Well, time for me to raise the moon. We will speak more later. Goodbye!”
Celestia stared, flabbergasted at the unusual behavior, when a sickeningly sweet smell suddenly reached her nostrils. Her eyes widened. “No. You didn’t!” Too late, all became a swirling cloud of color and light. When the smoke cleared at last, a tiedyed Celestia looked over herself and the mess that had become of the passage and its artifacts, then screeched at the top of her lungs. “LUNA!”
Big Guns let loose with a masculine bellow as he charged ahead with war hammer in hand. The living wood pulsed with life and color as the anticipation of its wielder flooded through it. He lowered his head to brace for impact, even as he gave the hefty weapon a mighty swing from the right, using his forward momentum to add to the force of his attack.
“Harder!” Iron Will shouted as he shoved the weapon and Big Guns back a few paces. “You have to commit, before you can hit.”
Big Guns snorted as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “Got it.” Then he resumed his stance, and prepared to strike again. Iron Will had already proven he could take the hit, even deflect it. That wouldn’t do anypony any good, if the same could happen on the battlefield with other opponents. He charged again, this time leaping into the air, before coming down with an overhand strike.
“You're being too obvious,” Iron Will admonished as he sidestepped. “You're just throwing your weight around. Make with the rage, or get off the stage!”
“You want rage? I’ll show you rage!” Big Guns roared as he, for lack of a better term, bull rushed Iron Will. The tendrils on the back of his head writhed and thrashed as he rushed in, striking blow after blow in rapid succession. “I–” he crushed a three foot radius of the training arena to powder “–am not–” this time, Iron Will actually got pushed back a little “–a runt!” Iron Will smiled, nodding in approval. There was hope for this calf yet.
“Now concentrate. Don’t let it decide how you act. Keep your head, or end up dead!”
“How’m I supposed to do both? First it’s get angry, then it’s think things through. I do one, and I’m too weak. Do the other, and I’m too sloppy. Where’s the balance?” Big Guns huffed as he struck again and again with varying results.
With a growl, Iron Will’s face contorted into a snarl of rage. He roared as he caught Big Gun’s charge by the arm with one hand, the waist with the other, and then, in a single flurry of motion (which was impressive, considering how much smaller Iron Will was compared to Big Guns), lifted his entire body into the air over his head, and slammed it to the ground with a snort. “Are you a beast, or are you a bull?” he growled as he completely abandoned his rhyme scheme. “If you are so dedicated to either letting your instincts control you, or backing down from them, then you might as well go. Iron will can’t teach a coward.”
“I’m not trying to be a coward, damn it!” Big Guns shouted.
“You're not trying to be a bull either!” Iron will cut him off. “So you get angry. We spent thousands of years getting angry. Anger is good. It keeps you going forward. But you still need to think. You killed Changelings in the battle, right?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Big Guns said. “What of it?”
“How much of the battle do you actually remember?”
“Um . . . not much,” Big Guns admitted. “I hadn’t exactly come to terms with being me yet, if that makes sense,” he said as he rubbed the back of his head.
“If you can’t remember a battle, you can’t remember your mistakes. That can get you killed.”
“So how do you get the two sides to mesh?” Big Guns asked as he rested on the shaft of his hammer. “Is that something I just have to figure out on my own?”
“What centers you?” Iron will asked. “What ties you down, lets you feel the earth in your hooves and the pulse of Mother Earth through the planet?”
“I’m . . . not really sure. I mean, before this all happened, I’d probably say my mother, but . . . she’s gone now. I don’t really know what else I can use.”
“No friends? No family? No cow you want to make a better world for?”
“Do you seriously not know what happened? I thought Zecora told you.”
“Should that matter?” Iron will asked him. “Just because you were changed by some cursed fruit, loves off the table?”
Big Guns sighed. “It’s not that, Iron Will. I know I can still make friends, and build a new life. It’s just most of those things you asked me about are still in the past, like far in the past. When I was in that garden, time went on without me. Everyone I used to know or care about is dead. It’s . . . going to take me some time, before I can lay all those things to rest.”
“Iron Will notes you seem mighty attached to New Unity for someone with no friends or family.”
“It’s the closest thing to what I can call a home right now.” Big Guns looked up at the castle. “They took me in, after Thalia brought me back from the garden. I guess, if I really want to think of someone to help me center, it should be Zecora,” he mused. “She was there back then, too, and she’s . . . I don’t know, she’s just Zecora. You know what I mean?”
“Seems to Iron Will you have a lot of things to fight for. You just need to figure them out.”
“Think we can break, so I can try to figure that out, or are you thinking more along the lines of the practical approach?” Big Guns asked.
“Come back tomorrow,” Iron Will told him as he relaxed his stance. “We can work on it from there.”
“That sounds workable.” Big Guns cracked his neck with his hands, then he stretched, and put his hammer back on his back. “Wanna join me for lunch? The cooks make a mean salad.”
Iron will shrugged. “Iron Will has little else to do right now.”
Big Guns smiled. “Thanks, Iron Will. I really do appreciate all you’ve been doing for me.”
Iron Will smirked. “You won’t be saying that tomorrow.”
Both bulls laughed as they made their way inside.
“Okay, boys.” Black Rook looked at the troops before him. “You are the furthest advanced in the Rohirrim training program. You have seen battle, and lived to tell the tale. As such, everyone before me has been selected to head to Canterlot with Shrial and Avalon Bladefeather, and selected members of their clan, so that Grif may arrange you to your proper security details. Now, for some of you, this will be your first time in Canterlot while on duty. Keep in mind you will have your duty rosters, and I remind you that failing to report to your posts and stay there until your shift is over is punishable by court martial. You are to remember that this is a civilian area, including young foals. Keep an eye on your weapons at all times.”
Though Grif had only been gone for a few days, he’d sent a note back to start sending people over for him to arrange placements. Rook sighed exhaustedly. He wished Silver Spear was here. The unicorn was a pain in the flank sometimes, but he knew how to move masses of troops quickly. Hell, if he were there, Rook would be going with these troops, instead, but now he was stuck as the only present junior officer, and thus stuck with training those recruits who weren’t ready for active combat yet.
Rook checked every name off the list on his clipboard. “You move out at 0500. Dismissed!” He waited for them to disperse, before turning to Shrial. “All present and accounted for, Ma’am. They shouldn’t be too much trouble for you,” he said, handing her the clipboard.
“They’d better not, if they know what’s good for them. I won’t stop at the manes and tails,” she said with narrowed gaze.
“You wouldn’t be with Grif, if you did.” Rook chuckled. “I’d say this was excessive, but, given who’s getting married, I’m wondering if Grif has asked for enough.”
“Rook, let me be frank with you,” Shrial said as she patted him on the shoulder. “You and your soldiers have been trained well, to be sure. You’ve seen combat, and you survived it. But let’s face it; most of the assassins and covert killers are probably going to slip right past their radar, and Grif and I will have to take care of them.”
“So what you're saying is this is for the benefit of the less militarily inclined wedding guests?” Rook asked. “Ma’am, I’m no stranger to the security theater strategy, but with Grif pulling so much of the Gryphon muscle off the market, well, Minotaurs and Yaks aren’t exactly the most subtle.”
“You neglected to account for Ponies and Zebras,” Shrial pointed out.
“That's why you’re taking Gryphons, I imagine.” Rook chuckled. “Anyway, I, unfortunately, don’t have the roster from the slayers. You’ll have to see about Pensword for those he’s sending out. And Ma’am?”
“Yes?”
Rook stood up straight, and raised his hoof in a salute. “It’s good to have you back with us grunts, Ma’am.”
A hint of a smile pulled at Shrial’s beak, and she chuckled. “Thanks, Rook. It’s good to be back. At ease, soldier. You’re relieved of duty.” She turned to walk away, then paused. “Oh, and I nearly forgot. I left the straws in the mess hall for you and your men.”
Rook furrowed his brow. “Straws, Ma’am?”
“Well somebody has to help watch the other younglings while we’re gone, not to mention take care of Cheshire. If anything happens to any of them, I don’t think I need to threaten anyone with the consequences.”
Black Rook gulped. “No, Ma’am.”
“Good.” Shrial smirked. “Have fun,” she sang, before making her way toward Pensword’s office.
Pensword sat behind his desk, doing his best to keep his expression as neutral as possible as a few of the new cadets reported in. One of the cadets’ eyes flickered to his left, where one of the shipping boxes had been scooted to sit next to Pensword’s desk. Moon River sat up behind it, drawing on some scrap paper on its surface in imitation of her father as she babbled and smiled in her usual manner. She looked up from her “paperwork” for a moment and frowned when she noticed the cadet. “No,” she chastised, before pointing to her father.
“You heard her, cadet. Eyes forward, and on me,” Pensword growled. It took all his military discipline not to crack when Moon River growled with him. The cadets, on the other hoof, couldn’t help but smile. Pensword soon remedied that. “That’s it! Report to your cots and the tents. You think this is some laughing matter? Let’s see how you laugh about living in tents for the first month.”
“Two,” Moon River added with conviction.
“One and a half months,” Pensword haggled, even as he kept an eye on the cadets. “We don’t want to break them completely,” he pointed out.
“Okay, Daddy,” Moon River replied as she returned to her doodles.
“Dismissed,” Pensword ordered as the cadets left, looking a comedic mixture of confused, baffled, and dismayed. Pensword waited, before smiling and chuckling to himself. “I love daddy daughter days.”
The moment he said that, Moon River flapped her wings, and flew to his desk to nuzzle his face as Pensword ran a feathered wing over her nose and mane. She paused, wrinkled her nose, and sneezed as the door opened.
“I see the new recruits have been significantly disheartened. I take it you just broke the news their privileged flanks aren’t going to be getting cushy apartments in Canterlot to stay in,” Shrial said as she walked in, and tickled Moon River under her chin. “And how’s my little terror doing today?” she asked with a wicked smirk.
“Aunty!” Moon River cried as she opened her wings to their full span, before taking a fake love nip at Shrial’s talons, then pouncing to wrap her hooves around the Gryphoness’ strong neck.
“No, new cadets that arrived today. The troops you want to talk to are currently on the move to sleep in the barracks, so they could run and operate the military train Luna gave us to use tomorrow. We have supplies to load tonight, troops and their kits to load tomorrow morning at 0730, and then we signal ahead, wait for the line to clear, and set off to the underground entrance, so Princess Luna and her guards can get our troops situated.”
“Cadets, recruits, they amount to about the same thing in my book,” she said as she preened her beak through Moon River’s mane. “They may have received some basic training, but they’re still new, and they still have a long ways to go.”
“Right, so I guess you have some things on your mind, then?” Pensword asked as Moon River giggled at the peculiar sensation of a beak running through her mane. Pensword stiffened out of reflex, but soon calmed as Moon River cooed in delight. He trusted Grif and his wives, but old habits die hard, especially when the scars related to them run so deep.
“I just wanted the roster for the Demon Slayers, so I can integrate them into the overall schedule.”
“First off, the Demon Slayers haven’t had anypony other than Lightning Dust join them so far. The group you want is Fox Division. Your point of contact is a colt named Cumulus Spear.” He handed over a clipboard for Shrial to review. “This is the list. They will be in Ponyville loading the train tonight and tomorrow, and staying in the old barracks there. If you have any questions, I suggest you fly over, and talk with them.”
“Sounds like you have everything well in hand,” Shrial said with a smile as she lifted Moon River into the air, and spun her around playfully, enjoying the little shrieks of delight, before returning her to the ground and her coloring books. “Time for me to go, little one, but you haven’t seen the last of me just yet.” She booped the filly lovingly on the nose, then rose and took the list from the board. “Thanks, Penword. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then she chuckled, and smirked as she made her way out the door. “Hope you’re ready for the bachelor party.”
“Well, Vital is the one planning it, so I think it will be safe and sound, and not too rambunctious,” Pensword replied with a small chuckle as the door closed. “Besides, it’s Vital. Do we need to say anything more?”
“Rarity, did you order another two cartloads of white roses?” Grif asked as he walked into the room with a clipboard.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to ask the flower sisters, darling. I turned all the floral arrangements over to them, once I gave them the final floor plan.”
“I swear I’ve been having people trying to sneak in as delivery Ponies all day.” Grif shook his head. “And don’t even get me started on the nobles.”
Rarity winced. “That bad?”
“Some Ponies are curious, some Ponies think they need to confront you about marrying above your station, and more than a few I’ve had to have taken in for attempts at sabotage.” Grif chuckled. “In all honesty, it’s not half so bad as Hammer Strike and I expected.”
“Have any of them considered the fact they need to take it up with Hammer Strike, if they want to attack our marriage? I mean, after all, he is the one who proposed,” she said with a smirk. “Or are they too cowardly to face him?”
“Rarity you know how people like to say, ‘if half of that is true’?” Grif asked her.
“Which application?”
“As in, ‘if half of what they say about Princess Celestia’s love of cake is true, I’ll eat my hat’?”
“Well then, definitely yes.”
“Well let me assure you that when history speaks of what Hammer Strike did to people who threatened his close ones, it’s not that half of it is true, it’s that they don’t describe half of what he was capable of. I’ve skinned people alive, and I’m not half so feared.”
“Who said anything about threats, darling?” Rarity asked sweetly. “Why, if any of those nobles were stupid enough to so much as utter a peep of criticism, they can answer to Seamripper.”
Grif was about to respond, when a voice spoke up. “Pony Joe’s delivery? Got an order for twelve dozen donuts and assorted coffee.”
“Oh, thats me!” Grif spoke up. He caught Rarity’s look. “We’re going to be here half the night. We need to have something out for everybody.”
Rarity shrugged. “If you say so, darling. I estimated it being an all nighter, myself.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t hog all the crispy cremes.” He laughed, before heading off to pay.
Rarity smirked as she levitated one of said donuts out from the box, and took a bite. “You might want to order a few more, Grif. I think I’m going to need them,” she said as she started comparing the materials, and setting up some of the filmy streamers in the rafters.
Pensword and Moon River both giggled as they stood on the empty train station platform. They simply ignored any looks given by the newer soldiers, while the older soldiers and station crew just rolled their eyes. The telegraph operator had just leaned out of the window, and yelled that the train would soon be arriving. The pair now had competition for early tells. It would be a most engaging game, and would allow them to hone their senses further. They could hardly wait.
“Since when did the stations have a telegraph office?” Vital Spark asked.
Pensword gave a confused look. “Since they have the wire running by the train. You’ve traveled how many times on the train? Telegraph and trains go together like a Pegasus and a cloud. Besides, not everypony can afford dragon fire. This is the fastest for the average Pony.”
“Then how the heck did I miss it for all this time?” Vital Spark asked?
“Oh, that’s easy,” Shrial said with a chuckle. “Pensword kept beating them to the punch. And it’s not like you have much need for a messenger service, anyways.”
Vital sighed. “Good point.”
“I do have my moments,” Shrial said as she polished her talons on her chest.
“I do wish the train would hurry, though, Avalon said impatiently. “I miss Grif.”
Shrial was quick to react, and shoved a large plush replica of their husband into Avalon’s grip. “Here. Use this, until we arrive.”
Avalon nearly hugged the stuffing out of the plush as she cuddled it.
“. . . I assume that has to do with the pregnancy?” Vital asked.
“Every bit of it,” Shrial agreed. “It affects each of us differently.”
“I hope I never have to find an angry expecting mother, then,” Vital said.
“They’re certainly not a pleasant lot,” Shrial agreed.
Pensword paused. “My mother was grumpy with Moon Burn and Whirlwind. I remember she decapitated a mannequin right before labor. Back then, I didn’t understand. He blushed. She just got mad, attacked the backyard, then vanished inside, and I couldn’t go in till nightfall. Then there was Moon Burn,” he muttered as he scuffed a hoof on the cobbled stone of the train platform. “Apparently, the first thing I said after the whole thing was over was that I wanted to do that when I grew up. Naturally, the whole room burst into laughter.”
“Now that right there is a story for the record books, Pensword. Have you considered writing some of them down?” Vital asked.
“I am. I do have to write my autobiography, after all. It’s a military tradition among the commanders, though I suppose they would be called military memoirs,” Pensword mused.
“I’m looking forward to reading it, then.” Vital smiled as the train chuffed into the station. “Learning about what life was like during that time will be educational, even if it is going to be on the dark side.”
“That is life. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to get a window seat, and spend more time with my daughter and wives.” With that, Pensword walked onto the train, and got to a seat to wait for the rest of the main party to board. Hammer Strike moved to his own seat without a word.
“Wait for me!” a familiar young colt’s voice called as Button Mash rushed to the platform with his propeller spinning madly. He quickly made his way into the cart, and grinned from ear to ear as he joined Hammer Strike. “Hi, Hammer Strike!” he greeted cheerfully. “Ready for the wedding?”
“Yes, I am,” Hammer Strike said with a smile.
“Hey! Don’t forget us,” Sweetie Belle called as she and her parents both stepped into the cart. She frowned in Button’s direction. “Why’d you have to go and leave us all behind like that?”
“I wanted to sit next to Hammer Strike,” Button said defensively.
Sweetie Belle sighed, and facehoofed as she shook her head. “It’s not like the whole class is gonna be here to steal a seat,” she pointed out.
“And Apple Bloom and Scootaloo?” he countered.
“Sit across from us,” Sweetie said with a smile.
“U-us?”
“Well, yeah. I wanna see Hammer Strike playing, too, you know,” she said as she pulled herself up onto the other side of the cart’s seat cushion, and settled in next to the stallion. “And he’s going to be my big brother, anyways, so if anyone’s gonna be sitting next to him, it’s gonna be me,” she proclaimed proudly.
“Take your seats soon. The train should be leaving any time now,” Hammer Strike chided.
“Then you’ll play some more on my Joyboy?” Button asked excitedly.
Hammer Strike gave a faint chuckle. “Sure, I’ll see if I can beat the old record.”
“It’s so exciting. And did you hear? There’s a new company coming out. They say they’re going to make even better games, ones that look more real,” Sweetie Belle said with a smile.
“I know, right?” Button gushed. “It’s supposed to be an extension for HIVE studios.”
Hammer Strike smiled as he looked down at the two foals. He liked children. They always seemed to carry that sense of wonder that was so hard for adults like him to find. He chuckled as Rarity’s face flashed across his mind. Then again, he’d been lucky enough to find one himself, and he was going to enjoy it while he still could. With that resolve set firmly in mind, the train jerked into motion, and the journey to Canterlot, and the wedding that would soon follow, began.
“. . . Hammer Strike, just how much money did you give her?” Vital Spark asked as he gaped at the city of Canterlot from his window. Streamers, signs, and attractions covered the whole structure like well-organized confetti. Armor, confetti, treats, toy daggers and swords, you name it, the decorations had it.
“However much is in my bank account?” Hammer Strike replied simply.
“You know, by that logic, I wouldn’t be surprised if you just acquired another parcel of land to rule over,” Vital mused as he sweatdropped.
Hammer Strike simply shrugged in response.
“Well, I think Moon River is liking the toy weapons. I’ll talk to Rarity about letting the Thestrals take some home with them to create a play armory.”
“You do realize they’re probably party favors designed for the foals, right, Pensword?” Vital asked.
“And party favors will have leftovers. It is a common fact. Parents toss them away, they’re left forgotten at tables, strewn about on the ground. The list goes on. Trust me, one way or another, there will most likely be leftovers. Heck, if we’re lucky, maybe we’ll even get extras that never got handed out in the first place.” He paused. “That actually happened once to one of Matthew’s Cousins. I think they still have a box of bubble wands, and they have a six, four, and three-year-old now?”
“One thing at a time, Pensword. One thing at a time,” Vital said pointedly. “You and the others still have to set up the security detail, and get everything else settled in, before the bachelor party tonight.”
“Just hold your tongue till we get out of the train station. We are going to have to face Tartarus, all because you’re making us come out at the public platform. There’s no way you’re not going through it with us.”
“It can’t be that bad, Pensword,” Vital pointed out. “It’s a celebration. Besides, I’m pretty sure Rarity will have made the proper arrangements to avoid most of those issues.”
“We will have to go through the crowds. That means we will be talking about running into nobles,” Pensword countered. “Still, hold on, we’ll be breaking soon.” To the surprise of many, Lunar Fang dropped suddenly from the ceiling, and kissed Pensword full on the lips.
“You sure you shouldn’t be called Ninja Fang?” Vital Spark queried.
“I would be a poor Thestral, indeed, if I couldn’t use the shadows as my ally, but I doubt I surprised everypony. It’s dark up there, so I slept most of the train ride. I’m certain Hammer Strike knew I was up there, so I mostly surprised just you and the guests from Ponyville.”
“That’s a lot of guests,” Vital pointed out.
“I know. Isn’t it wonderful to know I’ve still got it?” Lunar Fang asked with a mischievous wink.
“Looks like someone’s feeling a little cheeky today,” Vital returned.
“It’s not every night I get to get away with the oldest trick in the book. Hay, Moon River does it better than I do, and she’s still just a foal.” She smiled proudly as she braced a hoof against a seat for the sudden jerk of the brakes activating.
“You do realize it’s daytime, right?” Vital asked.
Pensword looked to Vital. “Phrase. Night is day to us Thestrals. It is like … like … Water off an otter?” He scrunched his muzzle, looking totally confused at the phrase. “Or other human phrases that don’t make sense, if taken too literally.”
“You mean water off a duck’s back?” Vital asked.
“Don’t ask me. Ask the humans,” Pensword groused. “He’s the one that told me.”
“I assume you mean Matthew?” Vital asked. “Also, Lunar Fang, isn’t there something you need to do?” Vital asked as he looked meaningfully towards Pensword.
Lunar Fang looked at Vital. “Kiss while we break?” she asked as the brakes squealed. “That would be dangerous, and my husband would bite me for risking myself and our foal.”
“Ah, but you could always steal a peck now, couldn’t you?” Vital asked with a sly smirk as the platform pulled up at last.
Grif was already waiting, tapping gently on a clipboard. To the untrained eye, he looked completely casual, dressed in nothing more defensive than a leather jerkin. Of course, most people looking at him could tell by the way he walked that he had several different weapons on him, but he managed to look almost unsettlingly calm as he watched the train come to a halt.
The doors clicked open, and the passengers began to disembark. First came Lunar Fang with Pensword close behind as he laid a protective wing over her flanks. Then Hammer Strike emerged, flanked by the two foals and the remainder of the CMC. Then Vital Spark emerged, followed by the parents and an outpouring of guests and guards who had followed in the other cars.
“All guards from New Unity, front and center five minutes ago. Come on!” Grif shouted the moment the guards started unloading. “Groups of three. One Gryphon, one Pony one Thestral, in that order!”
Grif continued to bark as the Ponies in question unloaded and hurried to arrange themselves as ordered. Each time one of the Rohirrim took a spot, they stood up straight, and lifted their right hooves, when they still possessed the ability to do so. No one was going to fault old lefty for the limited movement, after his arrow to the knee. The hooves rose to their left shoulders as each gryphon lowered their beaks respectfully. The Thestrals and Demon Slayers, however, offered no special salute as they took their place in line.
“Now then, you have all been selected for guard duty, because you are all the best we have. Don’t go and start patting yourselves on the back, though. From the point that we leave this station, until the time were we leave Canterlot, you are all to consider yourselves on duty. You will be working eight hour shifts. Ponies, you have day shifts. Gryphons, you take dusk shift. And Thestrals, naturally, you are the night shift. These shifts are not going to be adjusted or negotiated. You will come to your posts, do your eight hours, then leave. The rest of the time is your own. A support unit has already been arranged to see that you are fed and watered as needed. If someone that isn’t me, Hammer Strike, or Pensword comes up to you, and attempts to have you leave your post, I don’t care if it’s the captain of the royal guard. I don’t care if it’s Shining Armor. I don’t give a flying feather if it’s the princesses themselves with a signed royal order! You will punch the perpetrator in the face, LIKE A BOSS! Is that understood?”
A united “Sir, yes, Sir!” echoed through the air as the troops completed their salutes.
“The people in your groups are the people who will switch out with you, and whom you will switch with in turn. For example, if you are a Pony, you can expect to be relieved by a Gryphon, and that you will relieve a Thestral. If something breaks with this pattern, if you are not relieving someone of the appropriate species, if the person you come to relieve isn’t the person in your group, you are to arrest them for interfering with a military operation, and inform me to press charges on the missing guard for dereliction of duty. Until the end of this wedding, this is an Alpha Seven Solar Flare level operation. Moving out of the assigned pattern is to be considered a crime against Equestria. Is that understood?”
Again, the resounding reply sounded.
“Good.” Grif took a large stack of papers from one of his packs, and passed it to the first group. “Take assignment A, and pass the stack on to the next group. Keep it alphabetical, people. A, B, C, D. I hope you all can understand that sequence well enough to not need your hands and hooves held.”
Pensword glared at his fellow Demon Slayers. “Pass your sheets. They’re for Fox Division. You have your assignments from me. You inherited an old position to be my bodyguards, so don’t think of taking Grif’s assignments.” His eyes locked on Lighting Dust, who sheepishly put a sheet of paper back onto the pile.
“If you're all prepared, Ponies, move to your assigned positions, until relief comes. As for the rest of you, your hotel rooms and routes have been outlined. Dismissed!” Grif shouted.
The troops dispersed rapidly, even as Grif felt two taloned hands on either shoulder, and two cooing girls preening his neck feathers from behind.
“Well now, by the pricking of my wings, I detect two mischievous things.” Grif chuckled, looking over each shoulder to nuzzle one of his daughters. “How’s daddy’s girls?”
“As spry and sly as ever,” Shrial said as she pecked Grif on the cheek.
“They missed their father over the last few days,” Avalon added. “Athena was trying to draw up plans to get to Canterlot, so she could see you.”
“She can’t read or write yet, but she’s planning complicated escape plans out of a heavily guarded fortress and across miles of terrain to a walled city on the side of a mountain?” Grif asked, genuinely shocked.
“Well, I wouldn’t call them complicated just yet,” Avalon said as she pulled out said drawings. They were little more than scribbles with stick figures displaying potential scenarios that were, admittedly, fairly outlandish. “But it’s the thought that counts.”
“Do cubs usually develop this fast?” Grif asked, doing his best to hide a grimace.
“Well, we are part feline, after all. Cubs become fairly independent at a young age,” Avalon pointed out.
“And they are their father’s daughters,” Shrial added.
“Their father was found by a crusty old bird, in the firewood pile, during a dark and frightful storm, and later became the single most controversial figure in our known history, both ancient and recent,” Grif said with a smile. “Let’s hope they take after you, or we may find out they snuck out of the house at night to start a revolution in some third world country. Honestly, I’d prefer them sneaking out to see a boy to that,” Grif said, unaware that, in exactly sixteen years, he’d come to regret those words.
“Careful what you wish for, dear,” Avalon said.
“You might just get it,” Shrial finished with a mischievous grin that seemed a little too much like Cheshire’s for comfort.
“Well then, girls, shall I direct you to our house, or should we find something battered and fried in grease first?” Grif said, eyeing Avalon.
“Tempura?” she asked. “For some reason, I’m craving a good tempura roll.”
“The we shall find you tempura.” Grif laughed, giving both of them a kiss on the head. “Let me just check in with Hammer Strike. Wait for me by the door?”
“Don’t be long, Grif. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” Avalon said with a dreamy smile as Shrial pushed her along to the station’s entrance.
“Come on, girls!” Shrial called. The two cubs stuck their tongues out at their mother, and clung to their father’s feathers, and Shrial narrowed her gaze. “You girls don’t want to test your mother, do you?” she asked.
The two clung all the tighter, and Shrial sighed as she walked back to pull them off. “Come on, you two. We’ll share our sushi with you, if you behave,” she promised.
The two fixed her with puppy dog eyes, and Shrial folded her arms adamantly.
“Daddy will be joining us soon. He needs to take care of a few more things with Uncle Hammer Strike first, though. Now come on. Let Daddy finish his work, okay?”
The two cubs sulked and simpered, but ultimately relented to the superior strength and reasoning of their mother. Grif made a mental note to ask how Shrial had managed to overcome the devastating power of the puppy dog eyes later.
Grif approached Hammer Strike once he was sure he was alone. “Sixty five,” he said in a calm tone that would make anyone watching them assume it was casual conversation. “Different methods and weapons. No one’s tried poisoning her yet, but I’ve been careful to cook our food myself.”
“Delightful.” Hammer Strike sighed. “If it were to come down to it, you should still have the knowledge of removing toxins from things.”
“Oh, I’ve checked a few things, cake samplers, and the like. The chefs are on the up and up, mostly because I explained in no small detail what I would do to them if I found anything, but that was from the chef to her. The amount of servants needed for this leaves a lot of weak spots, as I’m sure you understand.”
Hammer Strike nodded his agreement.
“I have Luna with her now, so she’s safe, but at least now there is a wider group of people to keep her safe. The bride may be wearing white, but I expect to be wearing red.”
“Things can never go smoothly without incident,” Hammer Strike hummed. “It’s the way our lives work by this point.”
“Yes. Well, you are the most influential figure in their history,” Grif noted, “and, for the first time, you have a weakness that doesn’t swing a giant hammer that has literally turned things into paste. There’ll be as many ponies lined up to take advantage of that as there will be to kiss your flank.”
“At least she can handle herself to a point, but she’ll only get better over time.”
“She’s overconfident, and I’m not talking about the casual bluster ‘big man’ act I use off the battlefield. She’s talented, but she has no idea what some of these assassins are capable of.” Grif sighed. “She needs to remember that her enemies have their own strengths.”
“Hopefully, it will be an easy lesson.”
“That's what I’m trying to make it. Still, I’m only one Gryphon. I can do two places at once, if I push it, but not three. Just make sure you never leave her alone, until this is over. Ponyville is too . . . legendarily unlucky for there to be much trouble afterwards.”
“Trust me, that won’t be much of an issue.”
“Anyway, you're out at this moment by a good six hundred and fifty thousand bits with another hundred thousand likely to be gone before sundown, if Rarity keeps offering money to steal the skilled workers from other noble events.” Grif smiled “I told her to offer more, but she seems dead set on not letting you spend more than necessary.”
“You know, there are times I worry about the economy, and I’m hoping things don’t get too out of control.”
“With a financial mind like hers, I wouldn’t be surprised if she balanced out her spending with the proper organizations to make sure she avoided that kind of issue,” Vital said as he joined the pair. “And Hammer Strike, make sure you get plenty of rest. Tonight, we’re going to have a party the likes of which will leave the nobles positively without words.”
“Oh?” Pensword perked up from kissing his wife. “Are we TPing Blueblood’s estate?”
Lunar Fang looked confused and spoke slowly “What is TP?”
“Toilet paper,” Hammer Strike replied, “assuming he’s going off the human part of his mind.”
“Well, that wasn’t part of my original plans, but we could always improvise, I suppose. Though, of course, I wouldn’t condone such criminal behavior. I definitely wouldn’t suggest trying to sneak out while I’m distracted with a videogame, and then sneaking back in, so I don’t notice. I also wouldn’t suggest going to the new store Filthy Rich stocked up in Canterlot to buy out their entire stock of toilet paper for the purpose, before teleporting it all to the Bluebloods’ mansion to perform said prank. I would never condone such behavior that could easily be excused as an inevitable result of all-night revelry at a bachelor/stag party, including special reserves from the best brewers in Equestria, like the Dwarves and the Demos,” Vital Spark said with a hint of a smile.
Grif wiped away a tear. “They grow up so fast.”
Pensword and Lunar Fang blinked in silent shock. Moon River just giggled.
“Oh, and Hammer Strike, you’ll definitely not want to give these warding runes Clover told me to practice writing to the Shield brothers, so they can enchant the toilet paper, and make it so the Bluebloods have to remove the paper by hoof,” Vital said as he hastily wrote down the runes in question, and let the parchment drop conveniently to the platform. “Oops. Would one of you mind picking that up? It looks like Avalon and Shrial are calling me over,” he said as he whistled a playful tune, and hastily made his exit.
A moment later, Moon River was holding the paper with a mad gleam in her eye.
Day Moon looked around with a confused expression. “I thought Uncle Vital was supposed to be the serious one. Did he really just do that?”
“My young friend, too much serious is toxic,” Grif explained as he laid a counseling hand on the foal’s shoulder. “That's why every serious person you see walks around with a straight face, and, sometimes, with their noses in the air. They don’t want anyone to see how much pain they’re in.”
Day Moon just nodded his head. “So … we game soon?” he asked.
Hammer Strike shrugged.