The Crystal Empire looked like a war zone. Trash littered the streets; wrappers, bottles, confetti, streamers, and all manner of random debris. One of the bins of free condoms had been overturned and its colourful contents had spilled out onto the sidewalk. The locals, the crystal ponies, they seemed a little peeved or even downright grumpy, and had every right to be. Their home had been trashed by out-of-towners.
Flash Sentry stepped over the mess of condoms while Crop Duster, who was biting her lip, stared at them with a confused look of embarrassment. Furious ignored them and bringing up the rear, Private Low, a unicorn, took a moment to set the bin upright while cleaning up the condoms. A weak gust of wind blew and the swirling eddies whipped up a bit of confetti, as if the wind was throwing a party for itself.
“If I may speak out of armor for a moment,” Captain Sentry said to Furious.
“I dunno what that means, but go right ahead,” Furious replied with a nod.
“It is a pleasure to meet you. I have a little brother that idolises you more than he does me.” Flash Sentry began to chuckle and this made his wings bounce against his sides. “He has quite a collection of trading cards and posters. It’s funny how they can turn cheap paper into such a high profit.”
“Yeah, it is,” Furious drawled.
Flash’s laughter faded into nothingness and his expression became quite serious. “When the Palomino Wind died, my little brother took it hard. I didn’t know how to make him feel better.”
“We all took it hard.” Furious’ voice now sounded dusty, dry, and scratchy. “I knew him. We worked together for a time. Young little cuss… a hothead. Storm iced his wings over, slammed him into a river, and drowned him. He was twenty four. Poor bastard died ‘cause he didn’t know how to get ice from his wings. Mean as a snake with shingles, but a good pony.”
“That’s awful,” Crop Duster gasped and she took a sidestep to be closer to her husband.
Bowing his head, Furious came to a sudden and rather abrupt halt, causing the ponies around him to do the same. He stood there, unmoving, a sorrowful expression on his face, and his mustache quivered with emotion. “That’s the life we live. I done reckon I got lucky living as long as I did. Salty Swoop just didn’t have that kind of luck and he died young, like most of us tend to do. I suppose the only real consolation is that his little sheets of cardboard are now worth a whole lot more than they used to be.” Having spoken what was on his mind, he began to mosey along once more, and the group followed his lead. “I want my life to mean more than that… when I finally go I don’t want ponies celebrating the fact my cardboard is worth more. Just thinking about it makes me feel empty and achy inside.”
Captain Sentry hurried to catch up to Furious and his armor clanked while he power-trotted along. “But you… you’re the Pinto Pummeller. You’re a hero! You… you’ve impacted the lives of so many… millions of foals look up at you as a hero! The way you live, the way you are, your way of life, you inspire others to be brave, to be forthright, to be honest and true! The Dustpuncher Way, they call it.”
“Yer a damn fool!” Furious snapped and he turned away from the others.
“What?” Crestfallen, Flash Sentry’s step slowed.
“That’s just… marketing!” Furious voice was little more than a savage growl and his eye was narrowed in a terrible way while his mouth twisted into a terrific scowl beneath his mustache. “It’s an image that they sell with those damnable little sheets of cardboard. That’s all it is. Most of us is horrible. We sleep with whores, we cheat at cards, and most of us drink from sunup to sundown. We’ll mosey into a town or a settlement and we’ll stay and we’ll fight the wind, but most of us also knock up every mare we can catch and sooner or later we wear out our welcome and we get run outta town. There’s no great code of conduct, there’s no Dustpuncher Way, there’s no standard that we hold ourselves to. We’re the last sorts of ponies you want your son’s growing up to be like, and only a fool would trust their daughters around us!”
“But… but… b-b-but…” Flash stammered while his head shook from side to side.
“My mother had good reason to beat my ass when I told her I was gonna go and be a dustpuncher.” The grizzled stallion ground his teeth together for a moment and then his anger faded away, much like a retreating storm. Furious drew a deep breath, then another, and then he blinked several times as if dust had gotten into his eye. “I have nothing to show for my life. Nothing at all. Nothing of meaning. I lived my life fighting storms and somepony else done profited on the image that my kind of life tends to create in the minds of other ponies. But that image is a steaming pile of ponyshit. When people bring up the Dustpuncher Way, I feel like a fraud.”
“I had no idea.” Moving closer to her husband, pain could be seen on Crop Duster’s face. She reached out a wing, placed it over Furious’ back, and then walked in pace with him, her violet eyes focused sidelong on his face. “Mister Mustache… Furious… please, listen to me for a moment.”
“What?” Furious’ lone eye was glassy when he turned to look at his wife.
“We have something in common, Furious…”
“And what’s that?”
“An image.” Crop Duster’s voice became almost a squeak. “An idea. Something that might seem real, but isn’t. I don’t know how to put it into words, it’s tricky, but I do so hope that you’ll understand, so I don’t have to reveal my little issue in front of these two kindly gentleponies. I want you to feel better… I can’t bear to see you like this.”
Furious appeared confused for a moment, then he blinked and his mustache was tugged downwards by his scowl. After a short time, his hard, flinty expression softened, and he nodded. “Actually, I do understand.” His head dropped low and he walked with his neck level in a straight line with his spine. “I don’t know if I feel better yet.”
“I’ll do what I can to make you feel better later,” Crop Duster offered, “we’ll talk about it.”
Holding his head high, Flash Sentry became a soldier again and all traces of emotion left his face. He walked with a proud gait, lifting his hooves high and having a regulation bounce in his step. He bounced along, his face hard and his armor jangling a jaunty jingle. His hooves trod over the debris in the streets and the locals waved at him while he passed.
“When we get back to your hotel room, please, don’t leave right away, because Princess Cadance wishes to speak to you once more before you go,” Flash said to Crop Duster and Furious. “She should be along shortly. Furious Funnel, I am glad that I have met you.” With that, Captain Sentry lapsed into silence and did his duty, escorting his charges back to their hotel room.
Their hotel room—the one that Crop Duster had paid for—was just as they had left it. Their bags, gear, and Furious’ hat were all untouched. Once inside, Crop Duster moved past her husband and gave him a playful tail slap to the face as she went by. This was just the distraction that Furious needed to take his mind from his troubles and with a snort, he followed after his wife, wickering to express his interest in her.
In response, she released what could only be described as a colon calamity: it was a mythical beast of sound and fury, a lurking destroyer that she had held for far too long. Furious took a step back and waited for the dreadful rump ripper to run its course. The look of relief on her face was unmistakable; but the way her eyes crossed and how her tongue hung out was irresistible.
“I am Crack the Ripper, the silent but deadly serial killer,” she said as she began to titter.
“Ain’t nothing silent ‘bout what you just did.” Furious fanned the air with his wing and just above his mustache, his nostrils flared. “Also, yer a silly pony.”
“Oh yeah?” She turned her head around and glanced at her husband from over her shoulder. “Check out my whoopie cushion walk… I’ve practiced this since fillyhood.” Grinning, she made a slow, deliberate step and when she put her foot down, there was a sulphurous squeak. But this was not enough, no, she took off on a little walk across the room, and with every step she took there was a fracturing of wind in time with each hooffall.
Unable to help himself, Furious laughed and forgot about his troubles from earlier.
“Come’re and lemme give you a squeeze to help you get some of that out—”
“Oh, that’s very thoughtful of you, but no!” Crop Duster brayed with coy laughter and turned to face Furious. “What are we going to do about breakfast? I’m starving. That hospital food was inedible.”
“It was.” Furious nodded, agreeing. “We’ll have to wait for Princess Cadance, and then I reckon we’ll go out for a bite to eat. After that… I guess we’re leaving?”
“It seems like a good idea.” Crop Duster refolded her wings against her sides and gave her tail a few shakes to flick the stink out. “After getting into trouble here, I feel it is time to go.”
Furious looked at his bride with mischief on the mind and he thought about maybe getting himself a little smooch. He wanted to be near her, to touch her, to share in her joy. He took a few steps towards her, watching as her tail swung from side to side, and thought about the sensation of her lips pressed against his.
“I aim to live dangerously and give you a squeeze!”
Just as Crop Duster was about to reply, there was a heavy, thudding knock upon the door. Startled, Crop Duster cracked off a panic-poot and then stood there, trying to fan it away with her tail, but there was nowhere for it to go in an enclosed room. While his wife just stood there swishing her tail around, Furious moseyed over to the door.
“Hello again,” Princess Cadance said as she pushed past Furious and barged into the room. About three steps in, she paused, sniffed, and made the sort of face that one made when one was struggling to not make a face. Behind her, her wizard followed her into the room and then shut the door behind them. “Pay no attention to my assistant. I am still dry firing and my magic is pretty much depleted. I’m vulnerable right now and in need of protection.”
Taking a few sidesteps, the cloaked wizard stood next to the door and scowled.
“Let me get right down to it,” Princess Cadance began. “Both of you are forgiven for your actions yesterday. It was not an act done with intentional malice.” Her lips pursed for a moment and her eyes had a look of exhausted half-awareness. “I am not done with you however… I would like to take a moment to speak to you about forgiveness.”
At this, the wizard groaned.
After shooting her wizard and guardian a look—The Look—she continued with what she had to say: “Almost anything can be forgiven, and just as I have forgiven you for your transgression against my empire, I want you to forgive each other. Make a point to forgive any slights and don’t let frustration or resentment build. The key to a good healthy relationship is forgiveness and letting go…” her words trailed off into a thoughtful pause and she stood there, tapping one hoof against the floor and thinking.
“Having angry ‘I forgive you sex’ is a good idea too,” she added, and Crop Duster blushed brown at these words. “Angry sex should be done belly to belly while looking into each other’s eyes so you will remember what you see in the other pony. With angry mounted sex it can be easy to forget how much you love your partner and you could treat them more as an object then the pony that you love. This kind of sex can be more punishing than rewarding.”
Looking down at the floor, Furious found it fascinating.
“It’s hard to imagine us fighting,” Crop Duster said in a husky, somewhat scratchy voice.
“But fight you will.” With a turn of her head, Princess Cadance focused her commanding stare upon Crop Duster. “The honeymoon will end and sooner or later, you will bicker. You will blow off a little steam after having a hard day. Perhaps you will lose your patience. Maybe your husband does something to annoy you. Any number of things can happen and there are too many possibilities to mention them all.”
The pink alicorn drew in a long inhale and then let it out in a hurried huff. “When I finally went home last night, something I wanted my husband to do wasn’t done. I had a very selfish, self-focused moment, and I failed to remember that he too, had a long day. I woke him up out of a sound sleep and gave him an earful. He gave me an earful right back. At some point, I realised that he too, had endured a long, awful day, and I was sorry.”
At this, Furious lifted his head so that he could look at Princess Cadance.
“Saying I was sorry just wasn’t enough at that point, after things had escalated. I had to ask for forgiveness, and he made me beg for it. He admitted that he too, had also been in the wrong. He was right to make me beg for it, because I had to break down the situation and examine all of the ways that I had messed up, and I gained a good understanding of my mistake. Afterwards, we spooned in bed and went to sleep.” The princess let out a weary sigh and swayed on her hooves, still somehow looking majestic while she did so.
“And what about the confrontational coitus?” the wizard asked, speaking the words that nopony else dared to say. When Crop Duster began to chortle, he gave her an aristocratic sneer in return.
“Oh, as soon as all of this commotion dies down, Shining Armor is getting what he so rightfully deserves.” Princess Cadance’s jaw muscles tightened for just a brief second, and then while her eyes twinkled with mischievousness, her face relaxed into a pleasant, dignified smile. “Just because you forgive doesn’t mean you have to forget.”
“That all sounds fine and good…” Crop Duster’s eyes darted from the princess to the wizard, back to the princess, then to the wizard once more, and then after averting her gaze she continued, “It strikes me as a little strange when one’s guardian wizard speaks so openly about such private issues. It could make tongues wag.”
“Oh that.” Princess Cadance’s lips made a popping sound, as if she was blowing an invisible spit bubble, and her ears began to pivot around as if they couldn’t decide what to do next. “There is a very powerful story of forgiveness here, but no time to tell it. Suffice to say, yon prince is a very close and dear friend of mine. I have an intimate familiarity with his headspace. He knows all about the power of forgiveness and how it can heal a pony—”
“I know nothing of the sort!” the wizard snapped and he glowered beneath the brim of his hat. It was a terrifying glower, and Furious suffered a visible shiver.
“Prince?” Crop Duster looked confused. “I know of Prince Gosling, Prince Blueblood, and Prince Shining Armor, but I am not aware that there is another prince.”
“It is a long story.” With an affectionate smile that radiated warmth, the pink pony princess peered at her wizard. “A prodigal son returned home and begged his mother’s forgiveness. Forgiveness was exchanged, given both ways, for this mother felt as though she had failed her distant son.”
In response, the wizard’s glower-power increased by a magnitude.
“I would like to think that forgiveness is always possible, but that is me being an idealist. So I will say that forgiveness is almost always possible. Take these words to heart, my little ponies.” Princess Cadance lifted her head high, but her ears drooped and there was something sad about her eyes. She stood there in silence, towering over every other pony in the room, and she looked at each of them in turn.
Furious felt a puzzling affection for the princess, and then he came to the conclusion that he loved her. It was perplexing to experience, to have such a sudden awareness of how he felt about her when he was still trying to sort out his own feelings for Crop Duster. It was a different sort of love, unfamiliar, something that could not be explained or described.
“That pony over there, I trust him. Wholly and completely.” Princess Cadance’s words were little more than an exhausted, hoarse whisper and she made a gesture with her wing at the wizard by the door. “I trust him with the lives of my daughters. I trust him with my subjects. I trust him with all of my holdings and everything that I rule. This is a profound trust… and you”—she turned her head upon her slender neck and she focused her intense, passionate gaze upon Crop Duster as if she was scrutinising her—“it is my most sincere hope that you discover this trust. It is such a rare and precious thing to have, but doubly so for a mare. It is my desire that you establish this trust with your husband. May he always be good to you so that he earns this trust.”
Then, much to his worry, Furious found the burning stare of the princess focused on him, and he felt unworthy of such profound love that he felt when her eyes were locked upon him. The dust in the room irritated his lone eye and the big pink princess became blurry, unclear, out of focus.
“And you!” The alicorn’s word was commanding and Furious found himself frozen with a strange, unexperienced fear that rippled through his flesh and right into his soul. Her eyes were terrifying, but also beautiful. He tried to look away, he tried to avert his eye and look down at the floor, but he was unable to move. “I want you to know the pleasure of having her trust. During my time as the Princess of Love, as I have laboured to heal Equestria’s many broken hearts and fractured relationships, I have discovered a great many things that trouble me.”
It felt as though his throat was closing and Furious was powerless to resist the terrific majesty of the alicorn princess.
“Many a mare fears and mistrusts her husband's appetites,” Princess Cadance said and her voice was strained. “So much so that they fear leaving their daughters alone with them. This fear is more common than I would have ever believed… or realised. Learning this has broken my heart. I hope that your passion for her is tempered with gentleness and patience… and irrefutable, incontrovertible, unequivocal goodness. It is my heart’s fondest wish that you inspire a rare and treasured trust in your mate. Never give her a reason to doubt. May you never give her reason to worry. Let her have peace of mind and a day to day existence that is free of worry. I hope that you take heed of my words and that they impact your every action, your every deed, and everything you do.”
At last, Furious was able to bow his head, and he did so. It was a struggle to breathe and this profound sense of love was stifling. Even though he stared down at the floor, he could feel the eyes of Princess Cadance boring a mine shaft into his soul. Her stare laid him bare and left him feeling vulnerable. Denying her was impossible, refusing her request was folly, not that he wanted to oppose her will. Every part of him wanted to submit, to be good, to be a better pony.
“I will do all I can to prove worthy of her love and trust,” he vowed, almost choking on the words. “I give ya my word.”
“Go and be with your bride,” the cotton candy colossus commanded and she made a grand, sweeping gesture with her left foreleg. “I must be going. My day is only beginning and it is going to be such a long day. I feel like I have done good work with the two of you. This has been a prudent investment of my time and effort. Go… go and discover your love for one another. Don’t be shy. Go on!”
With his head ducked low, Furious scooted over to his bride and stood beside her.
“Come, dear friend,” the princess said to her wizard. “I think we are done here. Let us be going so we can do the work that must be done this day.”
Furious watched as the wizard bowed his head, and then couldn’t bear to look any longer. Something about the unicorn was frightening and he radiated a strange, terrible power, his own dark majesty. There was something very Princess Luna about him that preyed upon one’s fears.
As Princess Cadance headed for the door, the wizard offered up his own advice: “Both of you… admit when you are wrong to one another and do not dilly-dally. Confess your faults. You can be prideful and revel in the fact that you were right and the other is wrong… or you have fantastic, mindblowing, ball-bursting boffing. But you cannot have both. Choose wisely.” Having said his piece, the wizard opened the door for the princess and then waited for her to exit.
When she strode out the room, he followed, his cloak fluttering from his movements.
As the door shut, Furious had the notion that he and Crop Duster had just experienced a private ceremony from the Princess of Love herself. She had given him a task, a new job in life, and he was eager to obey her orders. Reaching out with both wings, he grabbed Crop Duster by the neck and hauled her in for a kiss.
When their lips met, she did not resist him, but responded with eager affection and trust. An offer of curious exploration was made when her lips parted just a little, and he took the courageous next step, extending his tongue to touch her lips. Meeting in the middle, her tongue brushed up against his own and he savoured the lumpy-bumpy texture, the roughness of it. With his wings, he pulled her even closer, and was overcome with an urgent need to express his growing affection for her in some meaningful, romantic way.
The kiss broke, but only so he say a few heartfelt words: “Let me love you and be good to you.”
“Okay,” she breathed, and her sides were heaving. “You might want to step back, I’ve been holding it in for a little too long.”
“Sweet thing,” he murmured, and his lips brushed up against hers, “gimme a little romantic music to kiss you by… and then we’ll go out and get some breakfast.”
“After that…”—her sides were heaving even harder now and her violet eyes blazed with fierce affection— “we’ll go home together.”
“And start a nest.”
“Yes, and start a nest.”
“Perfect.”
“Yes.” She paused and her tail began to shake. “Now kiss me like you promised and I will play you a song.”
With nothing left to do, Furious kissed his bride as the brassy horn solo began to play.