//------------------------------// // 3. - Tuesday Morning // Story: This Nose Knows // by Irrespective //------------------------------// “Good. Again.” Celestia smiled as Bean slowly went through the moves she had shown him, with a small snort each time his hooves blocked hers. She was deliberate and slow, and he was doing pretty well for his first day. Once they had run through the entire sequence she quickly moved in and gave him a peck on the lips. “Good. Again.” Bean still snorted as hoof hit hoof. He was concentrating deeply on making sure he was doing everything right. Another peck. “Good. Again.” Celestia picked up the tempo slightly, but he still managed to keep her from smacking him upside the head. She could tell it had caught him a bit off guard, though. Another peck. “Good. Again.” Another slight uptick in tempo, and his moves grew a bit frantic, which then led to him missing a block and getting gently bopped by his left ear. “Don’t panic,” she offered. “Focus on what you need to do. Don’t get flustered. Again.” Same tempo, and less panic this time. He grunted in determination, and there was a small smile of pride spreading on his face. A slightly longer kiss this time for total success in blocking. “Good. One last time.” Again she went, and he kept pace with her. Both of them let out a snort of air when her last swing was blocked, and then they both smiled deeply and shared a more satisfying kiss. “Not bad, my Bean. You’re pretty good at this.” she remarked when they pulled apart. “Thanks,” he offered. “It’s in the incentives. Hopefully I remember this when we try again tomorrow.” “I think you will. You’re a very clever pony,” she replied with a peck to his cheek. “Go run a couple of laps and then we’ll cool down.” “Right.” He took off like a shot, and Celestia lit her horn to raise the sun while he settled into an easy canter. She had nearly forgotten he had been on a track team in high school, and his gait was smooth, professional, and natural. Her eyes continued to watch those magnificent, sun-kissed haunches as light began to fill the sky, and the sun may have stalled slightly as it settled into position. Whoof. An extremely pleased nicker of delight escaped her royal lips as she watched his muscles and tendons flex, coil, unwind and release. It was easy to see how he had avoided putting on pounds during his cooking days. The gently loping pace he was using could chew up mile after mile with very little exertion. Just an hour or two a week at the pace he was going would be more than enough to keep him trim, fit, and very easy on the eyes. She then frowned and glanced back at her own midsection. She wasn’t fat by any means, but perhaps she had a few extra pounds that needed to be trimmed here and there. She then made up her mind, and when Bean came towards her after his first lap she gave him a deep smile and then quickly moved to match his pace and gait on the track. It took a moment for the two of them to get into sync. Bean had to double his stride at first to keep up with her longer legs, and when she had slowed down, he ended up a good length ahead of her before backing off again. Once they found their rhythm and groove, however, they smiled and felt a powerful serenity flow and grow between them. Celestia wondered for a moment if this was how the primitive ponies of Equestria had felt. Before there had been magic, or science, technology or even complex thought, was this how cave ponies had shown love and devotion? Was the flick of the tail and the thrum of the hoof all they needed to convey dedication, solidarity, and intimacy? Could it be that a simple gait had carried the summation of what it meant to be a pony, despite all that had been added during the gentle cascade of time? It didn’t matter if it did or did not. Hoof beat in time with hoof, heart in time with heart, and that was more than enough for her. Her heart was full, her spirit again felt young, and her view was filled with a future of beautiful yellow goodness. But as wonderful as it all was, Celestia soon realized that her husband was a better runner than she was. Though she could keep pace with him, the signs of fatigue appeared faster for her, and after a mere six laps with him she was forced to stop to catch her breath. “Are you all right?” he asked in concern as her chest swelled and deflated rapidly. “I will be,” she managed to wheeze out. “I didn’t realize I was this out of shape.” “I don’t think you are. You’re just not built for long distance running.” “Oh, is that so?” She laughed. “Yeah. You’d beat me by furlongs if we raced in a dead sprint, but my smaller frame is better suited for long distances. I bet you’d also do better if you were not weighed down by solid gold jewelry. You put that peytral on me and I wouldn’t manage to go more than five feet.” “I should point out that this peytral is not ‘solid’ gold, but rather an alloy. But, you still make a good argument. I’ll take it off next time we go for a jog together.” “And then you’ll run circles around me,” he offered with a nuzzle. “Perhaps, but we should get going. We still have day court to get through before your tea date.” “Are you sure you don’t want to come to the party?” he asked with a nip of her neck. “I will come with you next week, but I fear Fluttershy would be overwhelmed today if we both attended together. I want to ease her into additional guests.” “I still have a hard time believing that she’s so shy. I mean, yeah, it’s literally part of her name, and she’s more reserved than most others I know, but she didn’t hesitate to say hello when we first met.” “You had the advantage of Discord,” Celestia pointed out. “She knew about you from him, and you came highly recommended. Without that, you would have been hard pressed to get much more than an ‘eep’ out of her.” “If you say so,” he said with a shrug. “You do know her better than I do. You’re not going to foalnap me halfway into it, are you?” “No, I’ll behave.” She giggled at the memory. “I do have your picture this time. I can fawn over that until you return to me.” “I can’t believe you actually took a picture of my rump,” he muttered with a bemused shake of his head. “It it so wrong to love my Bean so much?” she asked with a kiss for his cheek. “No, it’s not,” he replied with a bashful smile. “Besides, it’ll only be for an hour.” “Right, and then we’ll have the train ride to the Crystal Empire together,” she observed. “Then you’re all mine, you charming yellow stallion you.” * * ✹ * * “Oh! Hey Luna!” Bean called out to her as she exited her room, and he trotted quickly down the hallway to where she was. “I didn’t think you’d be up already.” “Neither did I,” she grumbled, “but I just recieved a missive that I need to discuss with you and Celly. Is she in the throne room already?” “Yeah. I was just heading there now. What’s up?” “I suppose I can tell you first,” she replied with a thoughtful glance while they began walking towards the throne room. “Blueblood will be awaiting us at the Crystal Empire.” “Blueblood.” Bean repeated as he tried to place the name. “He would be… don’t tell me… I know I’ve heard the name.” He struggled for a moment to place it, but then grunted. “All right, I give. Who is he?” “He is our nephew, though that is being generous with the term,” Luna replied. “Perhaps you recall he was in the north, negotiating with the Yaks?” “Oh, yeah!” Bean suddenly realized where he had heard of Blueblood from. “So, he’s done with that?” “I’m afraid the Yaks have expelled him,” Luna replied with a sigh. “He did not say why, but I can imagine a few different scenarios that may have caused it. Whatever the reason, the Yaks will not be opening their borders to Equestria anytime soon, and much of our hard work has now been lost.” “Is that a bad thing?” “It is a disappointing thing. We have not had open relations with them for hundreds of moons, and it would be preferable to have an ally so close to the Crystal Empire instead of an unknown, or perhaps even an enemy.” “If things went south, would they be a threat?” Luna glanced at him, but she was obviously pleased that he had thought of that. “Yakyakistan is a small kingdom, led by a tempermental prince who prides himself on perfection and being loud. They could be a threat, but I believe all we would have to do is smuggle you in, turn their food bland, and then smuggle you back out. They would tear their own camp apart at that point, and we would just have to sit back and watch.” “You sure you want to smuggle me in, then?” he asked. “I worry I’d cave under the pressure, cook something they love, and somehow load them up on the carbs and protein they needed to have the energy to attack us.” “It is a risk I am willing to take.” Bean offered a scoffing laugh. “It’s only your brother-in-law, right?” “Of course not! I would be right beside you. Night is my realm, after all, so who better to help you navigate it? And if we wish to be sure the food will be bad, I will take over and just do the opposite of what you say.” “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he laughed. “Is there any way we can restart the negotiations?” “Only on their terms. We will simply have to wait and see.” “Huh. So, what should I know about Blueblood?” Luna rolled her eyes. “That is a very long list. For starters, don’t let him get away with calling himself Prince.” “He does that?” “Yes. He is our cousin via my mother’s sister, but he is at least fifty-six times removed and is really not entitled to anything. But, since he is related, his parents thought it would be inspiring to give him the name Prince Blueblood, and he clings to that ‘Prince’ implication like a Smooze to treasure. I have caught him trying to pass himself off as a legitimate prince a few times, and Celly has busted him even more. I believe one of the Element Bearers was even duped into thinking he was such, and my sister had some choice words for him after that little incident.” “So, why is he even allowed to be here?” “He has his faults, but he is normally an excellent negotiator. He has been helpful on a few occasions in the past, and he really is second only to Celly in the art of wordplay, which makes this failure all the more confusing and strange. I hope to get more answers out of him once we have a chance to talk face-to-face.” “I’d like to know what happened too.” “The other thing you should be aware of is that he is very much a noble, and not in a good way. He is demanding, and temperamental, and a perfectionist. I fear he will not like you.” “He won’t?” “You are a commoner, and I am afraid Blueblood wants nothing to do with common things. But, perhaps this will be for the best. He will not be able to run you off, after all.” “I imagine Celly would be rather perturbed if he did somehow,” Bean remarked with a sigh. “But I would also hope we can get along.” “That would be ideal. I suppose we will just have to see how things go, but do not worry. Blueblood may question Celly’s decisions, but he will not oppose them. Since you are her Prince, that means he must subject himself to your rule, even if he doesn’t want to.” “Sounds like I might just need to pull rank on him.” Luna nodded. “You may, and remember that you do outrank him. Whatever he may try to do or say is meaningless. The head of Equestria is myself, my sister, and you.” “You do realize how much that still hurts my head? I feel like I’m standing on a very tall ladder, and not quite sure what it is braced on.” She offered a mirthless laugh and a sad shake of her head. “It is about to hurt a whole lot more.” ~*~ “He will?” Celestia repeated, and she blinked a couple of times. “I am afraid so,” Luna said with a nod. “The Yaks have expelled him.” “Well, that…” Celestia stalled. “It is disappointing.” “He did not say why he had been dismissed?” “No, I am afraid not. He was surprisingly vague with this missive. We will need to have a detailed accounting of what happened. Yaks are tempermental, yes; but when I left they were being cooperative. I had believed Prince Rutherford when he said he wanted to re-establish formal relations with Equestria.” “He said that?” Luna frowned. “Technically, he said ‘Yaks be friends with Ponies for many moons.’” “I suppose we will just have to wait,” Celestia sighed. “We could send a letter to Shining and Cadence to ask him about it, couldn’t we?” Bean piped up. “Or is that not a good idea?” “That could work,” Celestia mused. “They know about his trip, so it would be a simple matter for them to just ask for a debriefing.” “If he will even talk to Shining Armor,” Luna grumbled. “He’d better,” Celestia remarked with an unusual growl of annoyance and a hard look on her face. “I quite clearly remember having a lengthy conversation on that very subject.” “I say we send the letter,” Luna declared. “At the very least, it will give Blueblood a chance to get his story straight for once.” “Wysteria?” Celestia called out. “On it!” Wysteria called out. “Give me just a minute.” Celestia turned back to Luna. “Did you warn Bean about him already?” “Out in the hallway before we came here, yes.” “I love my nephew, for the record,” Celestia said through a strained smile to Bean. “I really do. But he is a bit insufferable sometimes. I keep trying to work with him, and he has made progress since that one amusingly disastrous Grand Galloping Gala, but I fear he still has far too much interest in himself.” “Good thing you didn’t boop his nose,” Bean quipped. “Don’t even joke about something like that,” Luna reprimanded. “If that had happened, I’m pretty sure I would have forced the divorce option,” Celestia added. “I do love him, really. He’s done many good things for Equestria. I will never say he is unwelcome, or unwanted.” “He just needs to tone down the snobbery,” Luna added dryly. “Well, enough about him. We should get Day Court started, and I am sure you would like to rest more before we leave this afternoon, Luna.” “I would prefer that, yes,” Luna replied. “And you will enjoy the Crystal Empire, my Love,” Celestia said to Bean with a genuine smile gracing her lips now. “There will be much to see and do once we get there. I am actually quite curious to see what you think of the cuisine there.” “Really?” Bean asked eagerly. “How different is it?” “It’s more in the flavors, the subtle hints of things. You know it’s an eggplant in front of you, and yet it’s like no eggplant you’ve ever had in your life. I can’t even describe it. Perhaps your refined nose and taste buds will be able to.” “It sounds delicious,” he replied, and it was clear the gears in his head were churning out ideas. “Perhaps I’ll gain some inspiration for my book, too.” “I am most confident you will,” Celestia said with a laugh. * * ✹ * * “Wysteria, who’s next?” Celestia asked. “A Big McIntosh, Your Highness.” “Big Mac?” Celestia asked, and she shared a confused glance with Bean. “As in ‘Sweet Apple Acres, elder brother to Applejack, singer in the Pony Tones’ Big Mac?” “I guess?” she replied with a second glance at her clipboard and a quick adjustment of her glasses. “It… just says ‘Big McIntosh’, Your Highness.” “This is a surprise,” Celestia remarked. “I had thought he was the stay-at-home type. Please, send him in.” “What d’ya think brings him all the way to us?” Bean asked. “I would suppose it is something to do with Sweet Apple Acres, but beyond that I am unsure,” she replied. “Hopefully, it is not anything serious.” The one and only tower of power known as Big Mac then entered the room with the customary look of overwhelmed awe, and he slowly approached the throne while trying to get a good look at all of the stained-glass windows in the hall. Once he had finished with that he bowed, and Wysteria floated Bean a small stack of papers. “Good morning, Big Mac!” Celestia offered with a cheerful smile. “I trust you are well?” “Eeyup,” he replied as he looked up at both royals with a soft smile. “Excellent! And your family, are they well?” “Eeyup.” “Marvelous! So what brings you before the throne, Mister McIntosh? I am sure I can help with whatever you need.” “This is an insurance claim,” Bean offered, and he held the papers up towards his wife. “But it looks like it hasn’t been paid out yet.” “Eeyup.” “What is it a claim for?” Celestia asked. “Damages and loss of income due to the flooding of twelve acres due to a beaver dam,” Bean answered while pulling the papers back and looking them over again. “This happened quite a while ago, though.” “Eeyup.” “And there has been no payment from the insurance company?” Celestia asked quizzically. Big Mac shook his head. “Nnope.” “Explains why your apples shot up in price,” Bean continued. “You would have to hike prices up substantially to offset these losses.” “Eeyup.” “Do you have any idea why they haven’t paid?” “Nope,” Big Mac replied with a sad note in his voice. “Celly, does this look okay?” Bean asked. “I think it does, but I’m no claims adjuster.” “Let me see,” Celestia remarked as her magic took the papers from him. “You did fill out everything properly, right?” Bean asked Big Mac. “Trust me, I know how big of a pain insurance can be about things like that.” “Eeyup,” he replied with a nod this time. “And you filed everything in a timely manner?” “Eeyup.” “You had a claims adjuster survey the damage?” “Eeyup.” “And you received a copy of all the paperwork the adjuster filled out?” “Eeyup.” “Well, unless Celestia sees something that I don’t in the paperwork, then I see no reason for your claim not to be paid. Unless there was no actual flood. There was a flood, right?” “Eeyup,” Big Mac replied with a glare that quite clearly showed his displeasure at having his personal integrity and honesty impugned, especially given Bean’s previous questions. “All right, just making sure,” Bean replied while holding his hooves up to show he meant no ill with the question. “Wysteria, is there a ministry that oversees insurance companies?” “That should be the Royal Commission of Insuring Agencies, sir, and that would be under Lady Fussbudget.” “Any chance we can have her summoned?” “She should be around somewhere, sir,” she replied with a glance to a guard in the hall. “Sergeant, will you locate her, please?” The Sergeant nodded and quickly strode out of the room. Bean coughed, Celestia shuffled the papers, and Big Mac glanced around. “So…” Bean offered after a few awkwardly silent moments. “How are things at Sweet Apple Acres? Are your harvests going well?” “Eeyup,” Big Mac replied with a nod. Bean smacked his lips. “Any other issues you need to bring before the throne?” Big Mac shook his head. “Nope.” Bean made a popping noise with his lips this time during the pause. “Uh… How’s Granny Smith? She was complaining about some aches and pains last time I was there. Is she still bothered by that?” “Eeyup,” Big Mac replied with a bit of sadness. “You know, I heard once that apple cider and beet juice mixed together is really good for that kind of thing. I’ve never tried it myself, but maybe it would help her out. Worth a try, right?” “Eeyup!” Big Mac agreed. “Prince Bean, I must protest this!” A shrill and disagreeable voice suddenly rang out in the throne room. Bean and Big Mac turned to the source of the irritated cacophony and found a dull grey mare marching up to them with a seriously perturbed step. “I was in the middle of a very important committee meeting! I don’t have time to deal with such trivial matters!” “Oh?” Celestia lowered the papers slightly. “So what am I doing right now?” “That’s not what I mean, Your Highness,” Fussbudget retorted. “You know just as well as I do that the Ombudspony Office is in charge of these types of issues. I should not have to be pulled away when there are dozens of ponies that are paid to deal with these sorts of things. I don’t care if you are going to let the Prince make decisions, but at least make sure he’s making the right ones, please?” “Are you completely sure I’m not?” Fussbudget hesitated for a moment. “Princess, look. This matter could be cleared up in ten minutes by an ombudspony, and without disrupting a very important meeting—” “On what?” Celestia cut in. “Regulatory reform and compliance. Unless you feel that filing a Notice of Payment Due is more important than ensuring the Sidesaddle loophole is closed.” Celestia gave Lady Fussbudget her full and undivided attention, and the pony who lived and breathed subsections and termination clauses folded her ears back with concern as she realized what her Princess’ answer was going to be. “I feel,” Celestia started as her wings slowly flared upward, “that you may have forgotten a few details concerning your employment. Closing the loophole is important, yes, but the purpose of your department is to ensure ponies are not being unduly burdened or taken advantage of by the insurance industry, if I may speak broadly. If your Prince deems it necessary for you to assist a farmer with a Notice of Payment Due, I believe you are duty bound and obligated to assist a farmer with a Notice of Payment Due, irrespective of anything else that you may feel is more important. Now, your Prince is requesting your assistance. What, pray tell, do you think the correct thing to say should be?” Fussbudget took a deep gulp before turning to give the Prince a deep and courteous bow. “Good Morning, Your Highness. How may I assist you this day?” Bean had the answer to one of the questions that he had been looking for already, but the look on his wife’s face told him he needed to ask again anyway. “Lady Fussbudget, thank you for taking a few minutes out of your busy day to answer my summons. I have two questions, if I may.” “Please, ask away.” “First, where does this good stallion need to go in order to have an insurance claim payment that is long overdue looked into?” “He needs to go to the Ombudspony Office, three halls down and fourth door on the right. I can take him there, if it pleases Your Highness.” “No, that’s all right. I’m sure you have more important things to do,” Bean remarked with a smirk. “The second question is this: how long should it take to have a claim paid out?” “No longer than thirty days, Your Highness.” “I see. Since that is the case, will you please have a pony look into why this claim was not paid out within the timeframe?” “I will look into it myself, Your Highness.” “Thank you. That was all I needed, please return to your day. Sergeant Pepper*, will you please show Mister McIntosh the way to the appropriate office?” (*) His mother really wanted him to go into medicine, but alas, it was not to be. “Right this way, sir,” Sergeant Pepper replied with a bow, and he motioned with a hoof for Big Mac to follow him. Lady Fussbudget was quick to follow them out, and after the hall was clear, Bean inhaled and glanced over to Celestia. “Messed that one up pretty good, didn’t I?” “You did fine,” she replied with a nuzzle of reassurance for him. “Are you sure about that? I’m pretty extra sure I made Lady Fussbudget upset with me.” “Good.” “Good?” “Yes. The Ministers do tend to need a reminder every now and then of just exactly who is on which end of each string in this ball of yarn. It is an expectation of their employment. As I said, if she is summoned to handle something that is ‘trivial,’ then she should handle it. Besides, how do you think that would have played out if it had been me that had called for her?” “A lot of bowing and scraping and ‘of course, Your Most Sunniness.’” “Exactly. I need the Ministry to understand, without a doubt, that your voice is my voice in this Court. I fully intend to train you and teach you the laws of our land so that you may make a ruling without me.” “You better not be going anywhere.” “Perish the thought!” she exclaimed with a quick smirk and a nip of his ear, although she giggled for a time afterwards. “Sorry, it reminded me of a joke.” Bean looked around. “It seems we have time, and I really want to understand your sense of humor. Can you share, please?” “Oh…” Celestia gave a guilty look at the closed door and lowered her voice. “It seems there was this village who had a very old decrepit stallion, well over his century mark, who had never been married before. Well, one day he goes to the mayor and says he’s found a wife and wants to be married the next day so they can go about having children. Curious, the mayor asked about the bride and found out she was a sweet young thing, just barely out of school and filled with the bloom of life. Well, the mayor looked at the old codger, thought a while, and asked if perhaps he had thought about all of the dangers associated with (ahem) relationships. The old codger thought for a while, nodded, and said, ‘Well, Mayor. If she dies, she dies.’” Bean closed his jaw after a while and shook his head. “That was terrible.” Celestia looked humorously insulted. “Actually, it’s one of my best. But seriously, what if I were to get sick again, or if we had to be apart due to a scheduling conflict? I don’t want any questions concerning the validity of your authority or your decisions. It doesn’t do any good to have you make a ruling just to have it come back to me.” “Guess that means we need to schedule some study sessions, then.” “I believe that can be arranged, so long as we don’t indulge in any extracurricular activities,” she replied softly and with a bob of her eyebrows. “I make no promises there,” he replied with a peck of her cheek. “Me neither,” she replied, before locking lips with him. * * ✹ * * “Your Majesty?” Wysteria’s voice drifted in through the door. “The train will be leaving in fifteen minutes.” “Thanks, I’ll be ready in just a moment,” Bean called back. He grumbled to his reflection, and then pulled a face in it in an effort to relieve his nerves. He knew it was just a simple tea date and that there was nothing to worry about. Fluttershy would be a gracious host, being the Element and embodiment of Kindness, and Discord would probably love the chaos that seemed to naturally follow in Bean’s wake. There were no ministers, no ambassadors, no formal rules. Just two ponies and a draconequus enjoying some tea. Yet he couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. He wanted to be proper and professional, but his commoner upbringing meant there was a good chance he would be unaware of some custom or unspoken rule that would get him into trouble. He gave a small sigh of sadness when the memory of the Citron Pressè came back to him uninvited, and deep down he was worried that Celestia would be upset with him again if word got back to her that he’d done something wrong. He had most certainly not enjoyed her rebuke on that occasion. But all he could do was try. He made his reflection give him a determined and dedicated look, and then he nodded. He was going to do this, and he was even crazy enough to even try to enjoy it. He fiddled with his Celestial Crystal while he now debated if he should wear his formal coat. It certainly helped him to look and feel the part of being a Prince, but there was a chance it would be too much. If this was a state dinner he wouldn’t be caught dead without it, but Discord would probably care less and he didn’t figure Fluttershy would be troubled if he didn’t wear it. “I’ll go without,” he told his reflection. “At the very least, I won’t spill anything on it.” He then idly placed a hoof to his chin. He had thought about growing his scraggly chin hair out once or twice. It was somewhat old fashioned but perhaps it would be show of maturity and it would add to his accoutrement and overall image, like it had with Starswirl. What would his Celly think of a beard? As if on cue the hair follicles sprung forth on his face, and before fully realized what was happening a thick patch of brown fur that matched his mane had fully formed and filled in, forming a thick and neat beard. “I, uh...” He sputtered before sighing. “How does it look?” “I always tended to favor a nice goatee,” came the increasingly familiar voice of Discord from behind. Most of the beard receded back into his face except for a long tapered chin goatee, which Bean then stroked thoughtfully for a moment. “Eh. I think it looks better on you than me.” Bean shrugged. “What doesn’t, my dear Bean-o? Now then! Shall we be off?” “Sure, I think I’m ready to go. The train should be prepped and fueled, and we should be there right on time.” “Train? Pish posh!” Discord replied with a scoff. “You ponies and your three dimensions. Why take that horrible old thing when we can take a shortcut?” Discord then reached up with his paw, grabbed a zipper tab that had no business being in midair the way it was, and quickly unzipped until a large opening filled with sparks and white pulses of energy stood gaping before them. “Well?” Discord asked. “After you, my good legume.” “I’m not so sure I trust that,” Bean remarked as he slowly shied away from the rather nasty and possibly-capable-of-barbecuing-a-Bean-in-ten-seconds-flat portal. “It doesn’t look… safe.” “Safe? I’m surprised, ol’ Bean. This is nothing more than a temporal schism in the fabric of the space-time continuum. What isn’t safe about that?” “I don’t think I can even say that safely.” “Oh, come now Bean-o!” Discord replied with a hearty chuckle, and he swept the moderately worried royal up and into a furry embrace. “Where’s your sense of adventure?” “I think I left it back in the throne room. I’ll go find it, and you go on ahead without me. I’ll catch up.” “Oh, you cut me to the quick, Bean,” Discord replied with a small pout. “I thought you trusted me. We are friends after all, aren’t we?” Bean inhaled slowly and took a long, hard look at the portal. Even though this was Discord, Lord of Chaos that he was dealing with he did feel like he was being told the truth by a friend. Somehow, from that eager expression that was on Discord’s face, he could feel the honesty. Did it help his nerves? Slightly. Was he still on edge? Yes, but he’d backed up from the lip of the edge by a good pace or two. Was Discord going to let this hurt him? Probably not. On a practical level he’d then have to deal with a highly irate princess who just happened to play - and win - the most intense game of hot potato every morning and night. But on a personal level, he’d injure his new friend. Bean gave a quick chuckle. He had thought being married to Celestia was the most surreal thing that could happen to him, but befriending the premier purveyor of pandemonium was a pretty good addition to the category. “All right, all right,” Bean relented. “Let me tell Wysteria to cancel the train, and then we’ll take the… the whatever you said that is.” Discord let out a small squeal of happiness and placed Bean down on the ground. “Oh, can we take this off too?” Bean asked with a tug on the goatee he was still sporting. Discord gave a shrug and snapped his talon, and the hair promptly disappeared. Bean then trotted to the door and found Wysteria waiting on the other side. “Are you ready to go?” she asked. “I’m actually going to be going with Discord.” Bean tried to keep a straight face while ignoring the familiar goatee that was dangling from Wysteria’s chin. “You can cancel the train.” “Are you sure about that, sir?” She asked with a note of wariness that was beyond obvious. “My dear Hysteria—” Discord began. “Wysteria,” she immediately corrected him. “—you have nothing to fear. I give my word that I will return the Bean just as he is now, despite whatever improvements I could render. In fact, you should go take a break, you and that bucket headed boy toy of yours. “How do you know—?” “Ah! No time for compliments. I’ll explain everything to Celly, and you’ll be back much sooner than you want to be. Enjoy!” And with a snap, the Secretary disappeared in a flash of light, and Bean quickly dove to catch her now unsupported clipboard. “Should I be worried?” Bean asked with a hint of trepidation for his loyal steward. “Not unless she finds her calling as a beach bum. I hear the Pineapple Islands are gorgeous this time of year.” “Right.” With that handled, Bean still found himself facing the Portal of Uncertainty. With a gulp he took a step forward, and in that moment an old saying came to mind. “Well, what is courage but being scared to death… and saddling up anyway?” “Ah, Shake Spear. A true classic.” “Actually, it’s—” “No time to debate that, don’t want to be late! We’re coming, Fluttershy!” And with that, Discord grabbed Bean and threw him in a tight spiral through the portal before putting on a polka-dotted swimsuit and jumping in, cannonball-style, himself.