Hearing that Thistle Down had been arrested for theft did not sit well with Twilight. It was hard to imagine the cheerful bat pony from her childhood willfully committing a crime. Not only that, but the severity was hinted at by the urgency of the guard which had come to fetch her. It was enough that Twilight had asked the guard where they were headed – a banquet hall – and teleported them there.
While the disoriented guard stumbled over to stand with his comrades lined up against the wall, Twilight looked around. On her chair at the head table, Luna looked down upon the bat pony in chains before her. Twilight’s heart froze in her throat as she recognized him as Thistle Down.
The years had been kind to Thistle Down, even with his legs joined by manacles and chains, his wings bound, and a heavy collar around his neck. The once gangly colt had grown into a lean stallion, more appropriately filling out his frame. However, his messy grey mane, golden brown eyes, and his dark artichoke green coat were just as Twilight remembered it.
“You called for me, Luna?” Twilight said, breaking the silence which had dominated the room since she entered.
“Yes, I did,” she answered. “Last evening you told me you knew Private Thistle Down as a colt.”
“I did, but what is even going on here?”
“Thistle Down stands before us, having stolen from the crown for his own gains.” The declaration was sound and with no uncertainty.
“How can you be sure?” Twilight asked. “I have trouble believing Thistle would do something like this.”
“It does your character well to defend your friend,” Luna said, “but time changes ponies. You’ve had little contact with him, correct?”
“I saw him from time to time in passing, but not since I moved to Ponyville.” After she said it, Twilight realized the sour taste it left in her mouth. She had drifted away from a friend, even if he hadn’t been as close a friend as Moondancer. Part of her even wondered if this could have been prevented had she given him more heed.
“Time, circumstances, cause and reasoning can all change overnight. But what of years?” Luna asked. “Regardless, there is little doubt he was responsible. Among other things, the tome was recovered from his possessions.” She laid a hoof on a bag next to her, which Twilight recognized with a start as one of the bags the Archive Guard used for transporting dangerous texts.
She could hardly believe it. “Thistle, did you really?”
“I would ask you to hold your tongue for the moment, Twilight,” Luna commanded.
“But...” Twilight wilted at the stern look Luna leveled her way. The pleading glance Thistle shot her way did nothing to help.
“While theft is an issue which might usually result in a fine and disciplinary action if it was unintended, this is a different scenario. For the culprit to be one of my guard is something I will not stand for. That Thistle Down stole from a royal is unforgivable.” Every word Luna spoke carried her full condemnation.
Thistle’s ears lay flat against his head, and his wings shifted anxiously. “Princess, I never–”
“Be silent!” Luna shouted. “There is testimony against you, and you confessed.”
“But it was–”
Again Luna cut him off, but the words echoed in Twilight’s mind. But it was... Did that mean Thistle had stolen something? Though it had been long since they had spoken, she couldn’t imagine him stooping to such a level. Perhaps his joining of the Lunar guard had been a way for him to gain access to the archives? With a shake of her head, Twilight banished the thoughts before they dominated her mind. It wouldn’t do to fall into that trap. She jerked upright as she realized Luna was speaking to her.
“Pardon?”
“I had you called here, Twilight,” Luna said, “because it is against you the crime was committed.”
Twilight looked in shock at Thistle Down who seemed to shrink as he weakly shook his head. “I don’t understand,” she said.
“You see, the ancient tome Thistle Down stole was one formly in your possession. The spells inside could have easily been twisted and turned against the good of Equestria.”
There were several books in her possession that Twilight could think of which could fit the description. Since her castle had grown, it was reasonable enough to hold onto more dangerous materials, albeit not for public viewing. “Which one?”
“A Filly’s First Guide to Telekinesis, Second Edition.”
Her thoughts screeched to a halt. “...What?” There had been many answers she could have accepted, but that had not been one of them. She would have even accepted Rola’s Guide to Everfree Cooking, simply due to the dangers of improperly brewing briarbrew berries. But it wasn’t even that.
“A Filly’s First Guide to Telekinesis,” Luna repeated. “You even told me he stole the book from you over supper yesterday.”
The whole picture Twilight had been building in her mind collapsed. A vein in Twilight’s temple throbbed as her anger grew. “Luna...” she growled. “Are you telling me that you arrested Thistle because of the book he took from me when he was a colt?"
“Yes.” Luna replied simply.
“First off, I wasn’t a princess then; I was a filly.” The volume behind her words increased as she spoke. “Secondly, he was only trying to get me to play with him and his friends! And finally...” she paused to take a deep breath. “It’s a foal’s magic book!” she roared, her wings quivering upright with anger.
Through it all, Luna’s expression remained unchanged. Then a guard snickered and froze as all eyes in the room fell on him. Everything came undone in an instant.
“Everypony for themselves!” Luna shouted. She disappeared in a flash of teleportation and a trill of laughter.
In the seconds before Twilight could react, the guards stormed from the room like children giddily fleeing their parents before bathtime. Most went for the doors, some the windows, and a few followed Luna’s example. Laughter echoed as Twilight let fall her half formed telekinetic grip without a target. She slumped to the floor, rubbing the bridge of her muzzle with a hoof. It had all been a prank, one very successful prank.
“Dammit Luna,” she muttered. She should have known, especially after Rainbow and Pinkie roped her in to pull a prank on Luna last month.
“Soooo...” Thistle said, breaking the silence. “A little help.” He offered up his chained forelegs hopefully.
“I’m guessing you didn’t have any part in this?” Twilight asked as she pulled away the manacles.
He rubbed his fetlocks when his hooves were free. “Unless you count me being chained up as part of it. I’m guessing this is their version of an initiation.”
“So the Lunar Guard does this with every recruit they get?”
“Hey, you were the one who told Luna about it,” he countered.
“You have me there.”
He grinned and offered a hoof. “Still, it’s nice to see you again, Twilight.”
Her frown quirked into a smile. “Likewise.”
“Err... One moment.” He ran over to where Luna had been sitting, and fished the book out of the archive bag.. “Princess Luna was right about one thing, I never did give back the book.”
Twilight accepted her old book, only to pause as she noted its condition. Pages were dog eared, there were a few stains along the edge of the book, and the cover looked heavily worn. None of the books she still had from her childhood looked anywhere near bad. “What happened to it?”
“My sisters happened.”
She cocked her head; Thistle’s sister, Glamour Steel, was a batpony like him. And it was sister, nevermind the plural. “But isn’t your sister–”
“Oh right,” he cut in, “you haven’t met them. Well, dad remarried... Must have been a year after you became Celestia’s student. There’s me and my sister, but now my step-brother, two more sisters, three little unicorns and another batpony filly as well.”
The timeline made sense. There had been fewer and fewer afternoons at the playground as she entered magical kindergarten. Twilight and Thistle Down still saw each other around Canterlot, but more in passing than long enough for anything more than a brief conversation. Still, she was delighted to hear Row Moon, Thistle’s father, had found somepony. His wife had died in an accident when Thistle was just a yearling. “So what’s it like being a big brother? You always used to complain about being the youngest in the family.”
He chuckled. “I suppose I did. It’s kinda fun, but a lot of work. Anytime I come home from the guard, the youngest are asking for rides. It’s not getting any easier as they grow.”
Twilight put a hoof over her mouth and giggled. “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re doing alright.”
“Yeah.” He sighed and scuffed his hoof along the marble floor. “It’s been nice seeing you, but I’m supposed to report to the captain before my shift this afternoon.”
“Oh, ok.” she said sullenly. Suddenly, a memory forced its way to her mind’s eye, of the time she had turned down the invitation to Moondancer’s party, forgoing the opportunity for something she thought was more important with little thought for Moondancer. “Thistle, wait!”
He stopped and turned. “Yes?”
“I was planning on visiting Donut Joe’s this morning. Would you like to come with me?”
“I’m supposed to be working.”
“Oh. And here I thought the captain wouldn’t like to hear me going out into the city without a guard.” She sighed dramatically, and let her ears droop. “Oh, well...”
Thistle stared at her, then shook his head incredulously. “Laying it on a little thick there.”
“A bit.” That was the point.
“My boss really isn’t going to be happy.”
“I can handle any complaints. Besides, I’m technically your boss’s boss. Well, one of them anyway.”
He started to reply, froze, then chuckled. “I suppose you are.”
“Soooo...” Twilight intoned hopefully.
“Fine, you win.”
→ ↔ ←
Donut Joe’s could easily have been frozen in time for how much it had changed over the years. Joe readily admitted to being a fan for the classics, and modelled his cafe after decor from years past. It had always been Twilight and her family’s favourite place to go for a treat in Canterlot. A few bits would get you a pleasant cup of coffee and a remarkably tasty donut. He had even turned down an offer to supply the castle’s banquets with some of his pastries because it would have meant changing how he ran his shop.
The owner himself was behind the counter, icing a few donuts which had come straight from the fryer. He glanced up as the bell over the door rang. “Morning Twilight,” Donut Joe called. “What is it today? A break from work?”
“Something like that.” She turned to Thistle. “You ever been here before?”
Thistle shook his head. “Can’t say I have.”
“A half dozen donuts and two glasses of chocolate milk, Joe!”
“The good stuff?” Joe called over his shoulder.
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll be over in a minute with it.”
“Still have a sweet tooth, I see,” Thistle commented.
“Yeah, and it hasn’t been any easier to avoid the stuff since I became a Princess.” Catering at royal events always seemed to be primarily focused on sweets. Just once, she would like to see a nice mix of salads.
“Also, what did he mean by the ‘good stuff'?” he asked as he followed Twilight to the booth in the back corner. It would give them as much privacy as the place could afford.
She set her bags on the floor, and sat down opposite Thistle with a grin. “Discord’s chocolate milk.” He suddenly looked very wary. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”
“It’s not going to turn me into something is it?”
Twilight giggled. “I wouldn’t put it past him, but this is one of Discord’s few level ventures. He even agreed to follow some rules for selling it if it meant he could.”
Donut Joe trotted from behind the counter, levitating a tray behind him. “Got you two jelly filled, two chocolate dipped, and two apple fritters,” he said, putting down the plate. “And here is Discord’s chocolate milk.” Each of the mugs were near frosted.
“Thanks Joe.”
He nodded. “Call me if you need anything.” He retreated to the counter to take care of a couple of ponies who had just came in.
The mug of chocolate milk bubbled and steamed ominously. Neither did anything to reassure Thistle. He stared at the liquid with unease. “Are you really sure this is safe to drink?”
“Yes, Thistle,” Twilight deadpanned. “Just try it already.”
He took the mug in his hooves, and brought it to his mouth. It wasn’t the flavour of chocolate milk which greeted him, but strawberry kiwi. “What the heck?”
She laughed. “You thought Discord wouldn’t do something to it?”
He sniffed the drink, then took another sip: hot chocolate. “So the flavour changes every time?”
“Yup. A glass will never repeat the same flavour either, so if you taste something you like, keep drinking.”
“Is that why you call it the good stuff?”
“No, that’s what Discord calls it.”
His eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. And trust me, determining if he could actually name it that was an absolute nightmare of legal paperwork.”
Thinking, Thistle took another sip. Blueberries. “So, you could you say it was rather... Chaotic.”
Twilight blinked, raised a hoof, opened her mouth, and held the pose for a second. Then she let her head fall on the table with a groan. “Of course.” She raised her head enough to let it drop again. “Of. Freakin’. Course.”
“Just because he’s reformed doesn’t mean he isn’t still the god of chaos.”
The line sounded rehearsed. “Who’d you hear that from?”
“About half the officers in training and personal experience. Discord’s idea of helping out with training was reversing gravity in a room at random and replacing the ceiling with ten hooves worth of jello.”
“How is that even remotely related to training?” Twilight asked.
“Quick thinking,” Thistle deadpanned.
“Well... He’s not wrong.”
A disgruntled noise was all the acknowledgement she received
There was something satisfying in the shared discontent. Despite his reformation, Discord was exhausting to keep up with at times. She lifted her mug in preparation for a sip. “Discord isn’t one to–” She froze in shock at the mismatched yellow eyes staring back at her from the mug, and remained frozen as Discord extracted himself from the mug.
“And here I thought it was rude to talk about people behind their back,” he said, wringing the chocolate milk from the tip of his tail. “For shame, Princess. For, shame.”
Twilight place a hoof on her chest to calm her racing heart. “Discord, what are you even doing here?”
He pointed up at his ears, both of which were enveloped in flames.
She groaned. “I mean, how did you find us?”
“Using my patented tracker of course!” he declared, whipping out a small box covered in flashing lights and several tangled wires.
“How though?”
“Are you asking me how it works?”
“Yes, I– No. No, I am not.” Twilight quickly amended. Discord was to Pinkie Pie, what Pinkie Pie was to science. Her laboratory couldn’t withstand another attempt to understand Discord, let alone his magic.
Thistle tapped him on the shoulder. “Pardon me, Discord?”
Discord turned. “Oh? Don’t I know you from somewhere?” With a snap of his fingers, a magnifying glass appeared. It levitated in the air for a moment, before discord’s eyes grew a set of arms which grabbed the handle, followed by a set of wings. The eyes flew around a nervously shifting Thistle, examining him closely, before popping back into place at the sound of recognition. “Oh yes, I remember you, you’re that trainee who actually managed to avoid the jello.”
“No, you dunked me right after,” Thistle shot back.
“Trust me, I was doing you a favour.”
“How? I was scrubbing jello out for hours!”
Discord prodded his muzzle with a finger. “Exactly. How would your other batty friends felt if you were the only one who didn’t?” He turned back to Twilight. “Anywho, I must be off. Things too due: see two ponies.” With another snap of his fingers, he shrunk and teleported atop Twilight’s head. With a graceful leap, he dived into Twilight’s chocolate milk. Almost as an afterthought, an envelope appeared on the table with a pop.
Twilight sighed, and placed her hoof against her forehead. She knew that the envelope was the real reason Discord had stopped by. “Thank you, Discord,” she said, sarcastically. She gathered up the envelope and dropped it into saddlebags. Neither of them noticed the mare who chose that moment to pay their bill and depart. Nor how she had been watching the pair from the corner of her eye.
“What was that?” Thistle asked.
“I don’t know, and honestly I don’t really care at the moment. Discord will be Discord. That aside, what was that he was saying about avoiding the jello?”
“That’s thanks to Milly, Strat and Dew.”
“Who?”
“My younger unicorn siblings,” Thistle explained. “They’re all trying to learn new spells, but they’ve been making a mess of the house. We’ve gotten pretty good at handling the worst of it, so Discord’s stuff seems only a little worse.”
“And how are they doing now?”
“Burning the curtains.”
“I... Pardon?”
“They managed to turn the barbecue lighter into some sort of fire breathing... Thing, before I left for work. The day before that, they managed to tear a hole in the water pipe.”
An idea struck Twilight, one which would work well with her previous plans. It would mean a bit more work for her, but she was fairly confident she would enjoy it. She brought up the old battered magic book from her bags, and pushed it across the table to Thistle. “Here.”
Thistle took it with some confusion. “Why are you giving it back?”
“Because I want you to have it.” She held up a hoof, stalling the coming protests. “It’s obvious it has been through a lot in your family, and it probably means more to you than it ever did to me.”
“Err... Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I’d also like to give your siblings some magic lessons.” Twilight knew that this was where the protests would really begin.
“That’s really not necessary, Twilight.” Thistle said. “You’re a princess and you’re probably are plenty busy anyway.”
“And as a princess of Equestria, it is my responsibility to ensure the safety of my subjects. That includes foals miscasting spells and hurting themselves when I have the capacity and time to teach them.”
“It’s not that bad...”
“‘Burning the curtains’, was it?”
Thistle sighed and hung his head. “I’m not going to win this, am I?”
“Know when to fold,” Joe commented, ambling over. Thistle snorted. “Do either of you want anything more? Saw that little stunt Discord pulled, so I’d be happy to put it on his tab.”
Twilight caught herself before she could answer no. “Actually, could you box up these ones,” she said gesturing to the untouched donuts, “and another couple dozen donuts to go.”
“Twilight, you really don’t have...” he trailed off at the look Joe gave him. He sighed resignedly. “Right.”
→ ↔ ←
The box of over two dozen donuts was not nearly as light as Twilight had expected, but exactly as ungainly, so it was with some gratitude that she accepted Thistle’s offer to carry them. She made a note of the way he balanced it on his back with half unfurled wings; she would have to give it a try next time she picked up some books.
“So,” Twilight started, “do you still live down nearby the park?”
Thistle laughed, “That place, no; we’d be tighter than peas in a pod there. There’s already eleven of us. No, Mom and Dad found someplace a little larger. It’s by the Bloomfield Greenhouses.”
“I have to admit, I’m not sure I could handle having eight siblings. It was always busy enough around the house with just myself and Shining.”
Thistle shrugged, and stumbled as he nearly lost the box of donuts. He smiled sheepishly before replying. “It’s all what you get used to I guess. I mean, yeah, finding some quiet time can be hard, but there’s always something going on. It’s kind of exciting.”
She hummed in thought. “You know, I’m sure there’s–”
“Yes, I’m sure there’s a book somewhere on it too,” he cut in.
“What? I– It wasn’t...” Twilight stammered till she noticed the cheeky grin Thistle wore. She harrumphed. “You know, if it wasn’t for the donuts, I’d find a nice fountain to throw you in.”
“Maybe all the guards should start carrying around a box of donuts then. It’s apparently the only thing which can stave off an alicorn’s wrath.”
She couldn’t help the giggle. “Perhaps I’ll have to ban donuts then.”
He gasped in mock horror. “You wouldn’t! How would we ever protect ourselves against your tyranny!”
“Anyway,” she said, smiling, “I was going to say there’s probably some similarities between families which correlate in the size of the family and size–”
“An experiment was my second guess,” Thistle interrupted again.
Twilight froze, letting him get a few steps ahead, then let a throaty growl bubble up and caught up to him. “Give me the donuts,” she demanded.
“Why?” His voice was so irritatingly full of innocence.
“Because you are just asking for a date with fountain.” She moved in closer, and he shied away. “And I’m sure I can find a book on the matter. Or perhaps I could conduct an experiment on how many times a bat pony has to be dunked to learn some respect for the scientific process.”
“I don’t think that’s really necessary.”
“And why is that–” Twilight’s breath left her as a shoulder drove itself into her side. The world inverted itself again and again as she went tumbling in a mess of limbs. When she stopped she found herself looking into the face of a pale fuchsia mare.
“Oh my goodness!” the mare cried, pulling herself up. With the moment and space, Twilight could see she was young, just barely old enough to be called a mare. “Oh my goodness, oh my goodness! Princess Twi– I... I didn’t mean... It wasn’t– Too...” She rambled, near close to tears.
Thistle gave the mare a none too friendly tug on the tail, giving Twilight the room she needed to get her legs under her and rise, and glowered at the mare. “What in the world were you doing!” he demanded.
“I was just–” she fumbled on the ground, casting about for something. “It’s just...”
Twilight took a moment to look over the mare. Besides her pale fuchsia coat, her mane was a slate grey, and on it the blue cap of the Equestrian Postal Service. The blue vest with white trim gave her away as a courier, as did the shoes on each hoof. She was fervently looking for something which had fallen under the watchful gaze of Thistle. Twilight caught his eye, and shook her head slightly. The last thing the mare looked like she needed was a harsh reprimand.
“Pardon me,” Twilight said, placing her hoof on the mare’s shoulder.
The mare practically jumped at the contact. “Princess! I’m so sorry–”
“Please, just call me Twilight.”
“But I–”
“It was an accident,” Twilight interrupted again. “You don’t have anything to worry about.” She noticed the parcel on the ground, the plain brown paper wrapping slightly scuffed, but no worse for the wear. “Are you looking for this?”
For a moment, the courier forgot her apprehension and worry. She boldly snatched the parcel from the air, and practically embraced it. “Oh thank goodness!” she cried. “I thought I lost it.”
The transformation took Twilight by surprise. “Important, I take it?” she asked, struggling not to smile.
“You have no idea, Twilight. This is a priority parcel with platinum level insurance. If I were to lose or damage it, I...” As if a switch were thrown, the mare suddenly remembered who she was talking to. “Oh, I– Um... My name is Pepper, princess.”
“Well Pepper, just be a little more careful next time you're delivering. Nothing is so important to risk injuring yourself. It was nice to meet you, though.” She offered a hoof.
Pepper hesitated, clearly fighting a battle between deciding bowing and taking Twilight’s hoof, before she decided on the later. But as she brought up her own hoof, her eyes widened at the sight of the ruined shoe adorning it. Whether it had been too much wear on something old, or if it had caught an edge, the rubber sole was practically shorn from the shoe, and the laces had snapped.
Pepper gasped in horror. “Oh no, no, no, no! My boss is going to kill me!”
The streets of Canterlot were both older than those of other cities and constructed differently. Though the city council tried to keep atop the repairs, maintenance was a never ending job. Odd cobblestones, gaps in mortar, or missing stones were somewhat of a rarity, but common enough that they were expected. Couriers, who spent much of their time running through the city streets, wore rubber soled and faux-leather shoes to protect their hooves from such risks. With the shoe broken, Pepper couldn’t easily run with just three, undoubtedly not supposed to do her route without a set for safety reasons, and would have to return to the office to fit a new set. The priority delivery would be late and Pepper responsible.
Or that would have been the case if not for a spell Twilight had learned in her third year as Celestia’s student. Within a few moments, the rubber had reattached itself, and the broken lace was pieced back together. Twilight
Pepper’s eyes went wide as she turned her hoof this way and that, examining the repair, then she threw her forelegs around Twilight. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Ack! I–” Twilight quickly shifted her stance. Pepper wasn’t as light as she appeared. “It’s nothing. Just be a little more cautious in the future, alright?”
Pepper released the hug, and gave a nod. “Right. Thank you Princess.” She hesitated, once again, clearly fighting the temptation to bow.
She sighed affably. “Priority delivery, right?”
“Oh. Right.” Pepper took off at a dead sprint, letting up only to look back and wave.
Behind Twilight, Thistle snorted.
“What?” Twilight asked.
“I wished you had given me a little time to question her.”
“Oh, don’t give me that. It was a...” There was a familiar weight missing from her haunches: her bags were gone. “Thistle!” She spun in a half circle. “Where–” She stopped when she saw a yellow pegasus holding her saddlebags, waiting for the opportunity.
The mare set them down in front of Twilight. “I missed what happened,” she said, “but I figured these were yours.”
“The cutie mark?” Twilight asked. Like many ponies she had her cutie mark embroidered on the flap of the saddlebags.
She nodded. “The cutie mark.”
“Sorry about the trouble, but thank you for returning them.”
The mare bobbed her head. “Happy to help.”
With that, the few onlookers started to disperse, content that there was no spectacle to be had. A few ponies did dip their head in greeting as the passed, but otherwise nothing out of the ordinary.
“See Thistle?” Twilight said. “All just an accident.”
“Right...” he intoned skeptically.
Something didn’t feel right. “What was with the attitude, Thistle? Pepper was downright apologetic.”
“I’m a guard, so it’s my job to protect you,” he explained sourly. “I should have seen her coming, and it’s just a little too convenient for her to have tripped up right as you passed.” Oh, so it was like that. “The captain would be furious if he found out what–”
“No.”
The simple refusal caught him off guard. “I–”
“No,” Twilight repeated. “You do not get to act like that.” She had seen several ponies, Shining Armour included, fall into the mindset just after joining the guard.
“But it’s my job.”
“And a job doesn’t make the pony. Sure, for some ponies the guard is their home, but even then you shouldn’t let it become your everything.”
“The drill sergeants sure think otherwise.”
“You know they do it mostly for show, right? To make ponies really think about what they are signing up for.” She paused. “Actually, come to think of it, I was surprised to hear that you joined the guard. You never really struck me as the type.”
The way he shied away was proof enough she had hit the nail on the head. “It isn’t like that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I... Could we please drop it?”
“I’m only asking because I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine. It’s just...” The reason never came.
“Why did you join the guard, Thistle?” She asked the question in a soft voice.
The noise of the street was the only sound which passed between them for a long ten seconds. He sighed. “I think... My mom. I never really knew her besides fragments and pieces, but I knew she was in the guard. Lieutenant Lucet Tethys ..” He fell quiet, as if he didn’t want to give voice to what they both knew. “I guess I’m looking for a way to know her.”
“And do you really want to be in the guard?”
The laugh was short and mirthless. “I’m still figuring that out.”
“But for right now... You’re not a guard, Thistle, just my friend. And you will be even when you put your helmet on. Just don’t lose yourself to some strict act, even when you have to deal with couriers bumping into me. Besides,” she said, lightening, “you can hardly pull off the big grumpy guard that well.” She puffed up her chest, and did a poor imitation of the stony face guard.
Thistle sighed one last time, but with a smile. “Alright. You can cut that out now, I get it.”
She pulled a face as she let the expression go. “I honestly have no idea how you manage that.”
“Bit of training, but it’d be harder for you anyway. You’ve always worn your emotions on your sleeve.”
The two continued to chat as they made their way to Thistle’s place, on lighter topics, unaware of one small change. If either of them had bothered to check Twilight’s bags, they would have found her education reform proposal and Discord’s letter missing. Both had been quickly slipped out when Pepper had Twilight’s full attention.