//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Draconian Negotiations // Story: The Folly Of Princesses // by Steel Resolve //------------------------------// Twilight Sparkle watched Ponyville approach from far below as the train circled down the mountainside. It was still far away, as train rides tended to take quite a bit of time, although strangely they never seemed to take as long when she was going back home. It was a phenomenon she kept meaning to study, but usually she enjoyed the trip too much to actually break out instruments to do so. Princess Luna had offered the use of her carriage, but neither Twilight nor Pinkie had been in an immediate hurry. Also, taking the train allowed Pinkie to bring home more party supplies, which Pinkie had insisted were getting critically low after doing the wedding decorations. “Ooo, ooo! I spy, with my little eye, something blue!” “Is it the sky?” Twilight asked in a slightly tired voice. “No, silly!” “A lake?” “Still nope!” Given the volume of supplies Pinkie had packed, Twilight was at a loss as to where she planned to keep it all. Pinkie had demonstrated she kept stashes of supplies nearly everywhere (perhaps based on future need as sensed by Pinkie Sense? More study was needed), but Twilight was beginning to suspect that her marefriend had some sort of large storehouse, or maybe even a cavern somewhere in which she kept the bulk of it. She certainly wasn’t keeping it in her bedroom. Twilight had seen every nook and cranny of that. “I give up.” Twilight said after scanning the horizon for a final time. “It’s one of the Wonderbolts!” Pinkie said, pointing triumphantly at a tiny figure in a blue jumpsuit that could just barely be seen in the blue sky. “Ah.” Of course, it wasn’t Pinkie’s party supplies that had Twilight really worried. Or, at least, not only the party supplies. The true source of worry was Pinkie herself. Pinkie tucked her head back into their carriage, sitting down next to Twilight with a little plop and hugging her close. “You’ve got the crinkles again.” she said, looking into Twilight’s eyes. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Twilight’s eyes darted the other way. “Just Twilight worries,” she replied evasively. Pinkie and Twilight had... a unusual relationship, to say the least. Which wasn’t to say they didn’t love each other, just that things had started out in exactly the wrong way. Or maybe it was the right way, for them. Twilight wasn’t sure anymore. She just knew that the way they had started out had made Pinkie unhappy, and they’d been trying to get it right ever since. They’d broken up twice, the second time being the worst, and Twilight never wanted to see what a third time would do to them both. Pinkie gently pulled Twilight’s muzzle towards her own until their eyes met again. “Twi-twi worries are Pinkie worries. Tell me.” Since getting back together for the second time, they’d been on two dates. The first had been entirely planned by Pinkie, a very sweet picnic while stargazing, which had ended with Pinkie giving her a simple good-night kiss. The second had been as perfect as perfect could be, and had been planned by them both. They’d gone to see their favorite romantic movie, had gone out to dinner, and had finished the night with Twilight escorting Pinkie back to Sugarcube Corner, where Twilight had given Pinkie the good night kiss. Twilight was supposed to plan the third, and she really, really wanted it to go just right. “It’s going to be okay,” Twilight said, as much to Pinkie as to herself. If she tried really hard, she could almost make herself believe it. The third date was the important one. All of the dating etiquette books agreed on that point. It was supposed to be when you first shared yourself with your partner. And although it was a purely symbolic thing in their case, it still scared the willies out of Twilight. Pinkie kissed her lightly on the cheek, flashing her a smile that was only slightly marred by the disappointment Twilight saw in those beautiful, blue eyes. “Of course it is, silly.” Neither Twilight nor Pinkie were strangers to what went on in the bedroom. That was part of what had been wrong to begin with. They’d spent an awful lot of time enjoying themselves together physically, to the exclusion of everything else that a couple was supposed to be to one another. Twilight blamed herself for that, as she did for most things. Physical intimacy was easy, it was the sharing herself part that had always been the problem for Twilight. Mostly... because she hadn’t really thought of herself as being somepony worth sharing. Twilight put on a brave face with as big a smile as she could manage. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Do you see anything else?” “Something purple and cute,” Pinkie said without looking away. Twilight blushed, her smile becoming much less of an artifact for Pinkie’s sake. “So, your own reflection in my eyes?” Pinkie’s smile dropped as she frowned in confusion. “What? Are you loco in the cocoa? I’m not purple, Ms. Purpley Purple Pants!” They bantered back and forth for a little while, Twilight carefully explaining about light waves and how the color pink was not quite in the color spectrum, being closer to purple than red, to the increasing outrage of Pinkie. “Pink is so a color!” “Well, it’s a shade of color, or a hue, really...” “Who? I thought you said it’s supposed to be whom? And don’t change the subject!” “No, not who, hue,” Twilight said. Seeing Pinkie’s blank expression she sighed. “Okay, it’s like if I wanted to make pink paint I’d take red and white, but for pink light you need red and blue—” “Those make purple!” Pinkie said insistently. “Yes, but they also make other hues if you mix them just right—” “Whomses!” Twilight winced at the butchering of language, but pressed on to make her point. “Ahahaha... Anyway, one of those is what we call pink, although you’re more of a pale raspberry—” Pinkie grasped both sides of Twilight’s head in her two hooves with a crazed look in her eyes. “Twilight, don’t make me a raspberry! I like pink! It’s my favorite color!” “I didn’t—” Twilight stopped talking, really looking into Pinkie’s eyes, and saw and alarm. She threw her arms around Pinkie and held her close. “You’re not a raspberry. You’ll always be pink. Okay?” Pinkie returned the embrace, letting out a sniffle. Twilight continued to hold her, stroking through Pinkie’s mane with one hoof. “It’s all about how we see the world, Pinkie. They’re just words.” “They’re your words.” Pinkie replied as she pulled away to look at Twilight once more. “Your words are important. I mean, I like purple. Purple’s great! But I like you purple more than me purple.” Twilight stopped just short of mentioning that she was more of a mulberry, as it really wouldn’t have helped and might have caused Pinkie to panic again about Twilight being the one about to turn into a berry. While she was grateful that the subject of her worries had been temporarily forgotten, the cost of worrying Pinkie had been too high. She should have known better. Questioning pink was as good as questioning Pinkie Pie’s existence, in a way. “Okay, I’ll be the purple one.” Twilight said with a wry little smile. “Yay!” Pinkie replied, throwing her arms around Twilight and squeezing her until it felt like her head was about to pop. They rode together in relative silence for a time, Pinkie humming to herself while kicking her rear hooves back and forth, gently rocking with the motion of the train. Twilight watched the sky, noting that there were quite a few clouds, and wondering if Rainbow had remembered to tell the weather team about her little trip. Knowing her, probably not. At least Applejack told her family. She hoped their trip went well. At the very least with both Rainbow and Applejack flying on the way there it should have gone quickly, though they were towing the balloon behind them for the return trip, so that would slow them down a little. I’ve really got to see if there’s some way to make the wings last longer. Twilight mused to herself as she looked away from the window and back to Pinkie. She had a sudden image of herself, Pinkie and Celestia all flying together. I bet the Princess would have stories about Cloudsdale nopony else would ever know... she thought, and wondered what form her wings might take when she cast them next time. “Do you think Celly misses us yet?” Pinkie asked suddenly. “We’ve only been gone a couple of days, Pinkie.” Twilight responded. “Yeah, but like... we were her only company. And Celly is used to seeing ponies all the time.” Pinkie frowned, muttering, “I knew we should have gone back right after the wedding.” “Pinkie, Princess Celestia is not some silly pony who gets lonely after one day.” Twilight explained patiently. “She’s probably getting some more reading done.” “Yeah, except she’s been reading a lot since she’s been staying with us, and nopony can read all the time, Twi-twi.” Twilight stared at Pinkie for a long moment, incensed by the idea that anypony could possibly be bored by reading. However, in the spirit of the perspective she’d been touting, she had to begrudgingly acknowledge that Pinkie had a point. Even Twilight herself didn’t read all of the time, just as much as she could manage, and occasionally so much that she passed out (though she was getting better at stopping on time, and where she forgot she had Pinkie, Spike, and Celestia’s well-meant reminders and occasional outright demands to help her). “I suppose that’s true, but we are on the way home now. So if she does miss us, it won’t be for much longer.” Pinkie thought about that for a long moment, a little frown on her face, then she nodded. “We still should hug her lots for the hugs we missed. Plus some extra hugs for Spike.” “Spike can give her his own hugs when he gets back,” Twilight said with a little laugh. “Yeah, but he’s gonna be staying in Canterlot again for a week! That’s a lot of hugs missed! We have to help out, Twi-twi!” Twilight gave her head a little shake, not disagreeing, it was more in bewilderment. “Fine, extra hugs from Spike.” Thinking about it, Twilight realized it was going to be a little lonely for herself as well. Certainly Pinkie was still going to be in Ponyville, and Celestia, and of course she had made many other friends in Ponyville since she’d taken up residence there. But it wouldn’t be quite the same with their other four friends. Still, Applejack and Rainbow wouldn’t be gone more than a few days, and Rarity and Fluttershy were only spending a week in Mareis for their honeymoon. It was just difficult to think about them and not be able to go immediately to their residence to say hello and check in on them. She’d always known, empirically, that she and her friends had other interests outside of each other that might take time away from the group dynamic. Rarity and Rainbow had career aspirations, Fluttershy had her woodland friends, Pinkie was friends with nearly everypony she met, and Applejack had her vast extended family. She had factored in the concept of each of them dating, as well. Admittedly, not all at once, and not each other. She supposed much as they’d been drawn together as friends, the same bonds of fate had led to the current state of affairs. Who they were dating wasn’t as important as the fact that it had happened all at once and without Twilight being prepared for it. She knew their friendships could weather time apart just like any other challenge, but that didn’t change the fact that weathering it would involve a good deal of adjustment and no small amount of heartache. “You’re crinkling again.” Pinkie said, laying her head down on Twilight’s lap and gazing up at her. “What’s got you all knotted up inside now?” “I... I’m just thinking about our friends.” Twilight admitted. It was safe enough to talk about, at least. And it was a worry, just not the primary one weighing on her mind. “Really?” Pinkie asked. She didn’t seem like she was disbelieving so much as earnestly confused. “Dashie’s not sick anymore, and Rarity’s all better too!” “Not about their health, Pinkie. Just... that they won’t be home for a while.” “Oh.” Pinkie said, sitting up. She rearranged herself so she was sitting next to Twilight, but didn’t make any move to embrace her or otherwise drape herself over Twilight, though she did put a single arm over Twilight’s shoulder. It wasn’t the playful Pinkie or the silly and sometimes sultry Pinkie that held her now, but instead one of her best friends, trying to comfort her. Twilight said nothing, leaning into Pinkie’s warmth. It was nice to be reminded that, for all that they’d become to each other, Pinkie would always be her friend, first and foremost. The same could be said for their other four friends. “I miss them too.” Pinkie confided, nuzzling into Twilight’s mane. “But they’ll be back, and they’ll have stories to tell. And they’ll bring home touristy junk, like poker chips and fuzzy dice, and baguettes! And it’ll be so nice to have them back.” “It will,” Twilight said. And even if she was unsure how exactly it would all work out, she had utter conviction that it would, somehow. She could cling to that much, even if everything else seemed uncertain. They arrived in Ponyville in the late afternoon. After their small mountain of baggage was unpacked from the cargo car of the train, Pinkie led the way in great leaps and bounds while Twilight followed, surrounded by a swarm of floating bags like a flock of the least aerodynamic birds to ever grace the skies. She had a vague hope that she might discover where Pinkie planned to keep it all, only to be thwarted by Pinkie’s insistence that the bags be taken to her room upstairs ‘for now’. Pinkie would presumably be squirrelling the supplies away later, and unless Twilight was prepared to stalk her in the middle of the night, it was unlikely she’d get any new answers that day. Which wasn’t to say she was above stalking Pinkie so much, as she thought she was going to be too tired to do it that evening. She had plans with her chalkboard down in the laboratory. On the chalkboard she had her projections for various scenarios that might occur during the third date, rated by how disastrous the end result. What she was attempting was not true perfection, but rather the least worst possible outcome. Bonus points if she actually made it to one of the ‘good’ branches on the path she’d laid out. Unfortunately, her own pessimism was skewing the perceived odds. To counterbalance this, she was trying to find a plan that offered the least amount of possible damages if she were to fail. It hadn’t been going well. After the train ride with Pinkie, she was feeling slightly better, and hoped it would make a difference. “Twi-twi! C’mon!” Pinkie called to her from down the street. Twilight dutifully stepped up her light trot to a canter, not having realized she had fallen behind. “Coming!” She caught up very quickly to her surprise, because Pinkie had stopped in the middle of the street, squinting furiously in the direction of the marketplace with a confounded look. “Is something wro—” was all she managed to say before Pinkie shushed her with a hoof. She got up on her hind legs, opening her eyes as wide as she could, then did a cartwheel sideways while steadily maintaining her gaze in the same direction. “She’s new. I know she’s new. But she doesn’t feel new.” Pinkie muttered, bouncing up and down, all the while keeping her eyes open in an unblinking stare. “I don’t know her birthday. And I know everypony’s birthday that I’ve ever met, but I don’t know hers!” Twilight watched the display with growing concern. It was far outside the norm, if anything Pinkie did could be called normal. It wasn’t Pinkie being Pinkie, something was really bothering her. “Maybe she just... looks like somepony you know?” Twilight asked hesitantly. She hadn’t yet determined what Pinkie was looking at, but she was familiar with the concept of deja vu. “I mean, sometimes we see something or somepony very similar to what we’ve seen before and we have an odd sense—” Pinkie grabbed Twilight’s head in her forehooves and pointed it in the direction of a particular stall, asking in a disturbingly calm voice: “Do you know her?” Twilight dutifully looked, seeing a very tall mare in the distance. She had to admit the mare did look familiar. Twilight couldn’t see a cutie mark because of the form-fitting dress covering the other mare’s flanks, but the strikingly statuesque figure made Twilight wonder if she was perhaps one of the models that she’d seen during one of Rarity’s fashion shows, or maybe somepony that had posed for magazine ads. “I’m not sure...” she demurred. “Is something weird about her mane?” Pinkie whispered. “Like... you can’t quite look at it?” “What do you...” Twilight trailed off mid-sentence as she attempted to look at the mare’s mane, and simply could not. Her eyes opened wide in surprise as she tried again, only to find the same phenomenon repeating: her gaze noticeably shifted as she tried to focus it on that incredibly long pink mane. Twilight was a mare of many talents, being that her talent was magic itself. But in particular, she was very, very good at spotting things that were off about a pony. It was a talent she’d first developed while in Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, which had allowed her to see past basic illusions of her classmates. She’d further honed it after the attempted invasion at her own brother’s wedding. It wasn’t a spell that allowed this more than it was simple observation. Something about the mare across the marketplace from them did not want to be seen, and there was a glamour of some type in effect to ensure that. Given that the mare in question had all the appearances of being a pegasus was even more confounding. The fact that Twilight’s own eyes did not want to focus on a particular part of a pony suggested a spell of some sort. This oddly reassured her, as a changeling would not have needed magic to hide something about themselves; their very nature was malleable. But did that mean somepony had cast a glamour on her mane for her? “I see what you mean,” Twilight whispered back to Pinkie. “There is something strange about her.” She blinked for a second, looking at where Pinkie should have been, only to find her marching off towards the other side of the market, keeping her eyes focused on the strange pony as if she were prey. “Pinkie!” Twilight hissed urgently. “What are you doing?” “She’s new.” Pinkie whispered back. “And I don’t know her birthday. So even if something is weird about her, I need to welcome her to Ponyville!” “But we don’t know anything about her other than something is weird!” Twilight said, following along despite herself. “That’s why I need to talk to her! I’m never gonna find out her birthday just staring at her!” “But what if—” she cut herself off as Pinkie circled around the mare, who had been browsing at a tomato stand, and waved up at her to get her attention. “Hi! I’m Pinkie Pie! I just got back to Ponyville or I would have already greeted you and maybe sang you a song and thrown you a party! I’m so sorry I missed you! What’s your name?” It was then that Twilight saw two things: a side profile of a very familiar face and the flaring out of a pair of giant wings as the mare reared back in surprise. Twilight could perhaps be forgiven for not recognizing who Pinkie had been looking at while they were behind her. As much as Twilight had seen this particular backside, it had always been much larger than it was currently, and that was accounting for the perspective of a foal looking up. But even with her slightly diminished form, there was no way at all Twilight could mistake her own mentor’s face. By the time the wings flared out in her direction, Twilight regarded them not so much with dread as a sort of dull acceptance. After that, she was a little busy anticipating being sent flying to react further. Thankfully, the blow never came, though her mane was blown back by a massive gust of wind and she swore she could feel a wingtip graze her nose. “Um... Hello!” Celestia replied, in what sounded like a startled falsetto voice to Twilight. “M-my name is Aurora?” “Hi, Aurora!” Pinkie replied with a smile reserved especially for greeting new ponies. “Welcome to Ponyville!” She hopped up, throwing her arms around Aurora’s neck and giving her a quick hug before letting herself drop back down and looking up expectantly. Oh my, she is just adorable, isn’t she? “Thank you.” ‘Aurora’ replied with a smile of her own. In truth, she was unsure what to do in this situation. She’d supposed she could ‘introduce’ herself to Twilight and Pinkie when they got home, but apparently she’d let herself get a little too engrossed in shopping to pay attention to the time. Consequently, she was now faced with the two ponies who would immediately be able to call into question her claim that she was staying in the library, and was nervously racking her brain about how to handle that. Pinkie was still looking up expectantly, although her expression was shifting from simple happiness to slightly-confused happiness. “Heeeyyyy... I think I know—” Oh dear, the jig is up, I’m afraid. Well done for your first outing, but you’ll likely have a town full of questions to answer, now. “Hi!” Twilight said, forcibly inserting herself between Pinkie and Celestia. “Welcome to Ponyville! Could we trouble you to come to the library with us so we can maybe talk about what I’m sure is going to be party plans in a place that isn’t in the middle of town?” Saved by the faithful student! We may survive this yet! The mention of a party immediately had Pinkie beaming again. “Yeah, we gotta throw—” Pinkie stopped after a mere moment, frowning up at Celestia. “Wait a minute! I do know—” “That sounds wonderful!” Celestia said quickly. “I’m sure I can clear up anything you might want to know there.” “But—” Pinkie began, until her voice abruptly cut off. Celestia instantly recognized the spell Twilight had hastily cast on Pinkie as being a very quick and dirty noise cancellation spell, obviously one Twilight had prepared at a moment’s notice. “Pinkie, we have a lot of baggage to put away, and you have a party to plan!” Twilight said firmly. Pinkie tried to talk for several seconds before realizing they could not hear her, after which she began to frantically mime in Celestia’s direction. Twilight then trotted into her own spell’s field of influence, having a few words with Pinkie that only the two of them could hear, then turned and cantered off into the direction of the library. Pinkie frowned, but followed suit, trailing behind Twilight and what appeared to be a massive cloud of baggage. “Ma’am?” The tomato vendor asked politely, having been all but forgotten. “Did you still need these?” Celestia hesitated, then smiled apologetically, saying: “I’ll have to come back another day.” She cantered off in the direction of the library as well, eventually needing to break into a full gallop to catch up. Luna had arrived precisely when she’d meant to: just after sundown. It was the sun that was a little late that evening. Luna hoped it wouldn’t cause as much of a fuss as the delayed sunrise had some weeks ago. She’d had every intention of lowering it on schedule, but had spent an indeterminate amount of time staring at a flower and reflecting on how very foolish she was. Her moon was cross with her, having been already impatient to begin what was to be an ever-shortening cycle as the summer approached. The sun had at least been slightly less contentious, being fatigued from its longer trek and seemingly playful in its resistance against she who was not its master, for which she was grateful. True to his word, Middy had informed the guards that Princess Luna would not require an escort for the evening, and so the guards outside her room did not blink as a cloud of sparkle-filled mist flowed up her stairs and under her door, only for her to emerge a moment later sans regalia and in a very form-fitting black and silver dress that she’d picked out earlier in the day. She arrived at the home of her dear friends in the time it took to blink, stepping into the shadow of a corner of the stairwell and emerging from an alley nearest to their home, startling a stray black cat who had been stalking a rat amongst some refuse. By way of apology, she stunned the rat with the barest tendril of her will and bid the cat good hunting for the remainder of the night. To a casual onlooker, she must have looked like a ghost, appearing suddenly from the darkness in a shimmering gown, her face framed by the night sky in the form of her voluminous mane. To Fancy’s guards that watched his front door, she was a more common sight, though she supposed no less impressive for it. They opened the door without question, the one on the left even smiling very slightly. “She’ll be pleased you made it,” he whispered, before being cuffed unceremoniously by his counterpart on the opposite side of the door. She frowned at him, but made no effort to discipline him for his impertinence. He was not hers to punish, after all, and she well knew that Fancy and Fleur had an... unusual relationship with their staff that made for greater familiarity than was perhaps appropriate. Impropriety aside, they were singularly loyal to their mistress and master, and very supportive of things that made their benefactors happy. They were also very discreet, which was yet another reason she allowed such minor misbehavior. She walked into the crowded room with no fanfare, wading through crowds of ponies with a look of pristine indifference that she had cultivated during many of these events. She was greeted by some, and she nodded in acknowledgement to them before moving on, but most wisely went about their own business of the evening. She was not here for them, and they knew that. The two she was here for waited on the other side of the crowd, and were currently entertaining the Worthinghams, a couple that often frequented Fancy’s events and until recently had been going through some troubles with their marriage (in that the Lord had trouble not cheating on his wife and the Lady had in turn been prompted to make some indiscretions of her own) which Luna had seen fit to meddle with (in that she had threatened a lifetime’s worth of nightmares if the Lord didn’t get his act together and make things right with his Lady). Luna noted with approval that the older couple were smiling, sitting together in the same loveseat, and holding hooves with no show of reticence in their body language. Whether it would last remained to be seen, but for the moment, it seemed they had reached an understanding with each other. She knew from their dreams there was yet love between them, a strong one even, thus the extremes to which they hated when the pendulum shifted. When they saw her approach, they quietly bid their adieus. Even as moneyed as they were, nopony who attended Fancy’s parties more than once thought to intrude on Luna when she could attend. Not if they expected to be invited to another ever again. To Fleur’s credit, the squeal she let out as the crowd parted to reveal Luna was only audible to those within trotting distance of where Fancy was seated. Likewise the embrace, while very fond, did not include the kiss she so clearly wanted to give Luna. “Ma Princesse! You came!” Fleur uttered excitedly, ushering Luna to the newly vacated loveseat and sitting down next to her on it. “We apologize for Our lateness—” Luna began before Fleur cut her off with a musical laugh and a chest compressing hug. “Ma petite, you are welcome no matter the time. I am simply glad you are here!” Fleur said, making herself comfortable in the curve of Luna’s side. Fancy smiled indulgently at his wife before standing to greet Luna, taking one of her forehooves in his own and kissing the silver shod tip. “It’s as she says, Princess. Any time you wish to visit, you’re welcome. Though advance notice is pleasant, as it lets us prepare ahead of time.” “Yes, I can understand that,” Luna replied. “I’ll be sure to send word, it’s easy enough for me. However, it seems I must provide a better means for invitations to arrive.” Luna’s horn flashed for a moment, and from midair a bundle of scrolls tied together with gossamer and lace dropped onto Fleur’s lap. Fleur had been busy nuzzling Luna’s wing, and looked surprised as the bundle landed. She looked at the scrolls, then back to Luna. “A present, ma cherie?” Luna nodded. “They are enchanted. Simply write what you wish, touch the scroll to flame, and they will burn away clean to be whisked to me directly.” For a long moment, Fleur looked like she was going to pout, then she sighed and said: “If you insist.” Luna looked at Fleur quizzically. “I... thought it would make communications easier. Or that it would at the least not require the intervention of outside agencies?” Fancy rolled his eyes, taking a glass from the proffered drinks tray that had been brought up at his signal. “Don’t be overly concerned, Princess. Fleur rather enjoyed browbeating our former foalnappers into doing her that small favor. “ “Fancy! You promised you would say nothing!” Fleur said testily, snatching up a glass of wine and taking in a long draught before settling down at Luna’s side once more. “I promised nothing at all, beloved. You said I should say nothing.” Fleur grumbled under her breath, yet did not look entirely displeased. “Shall I take the scrolls back?” Luna asked after a long moment. “No, leave the gift.” Fleur said decisively. “I will have them deliver you flowers instead.” Luna blinked, taking a glass for herself and hiding her expression within it briefly. “As you wish, Fleur.” Her dark colouration made it difficult to tell when she was blushing. A fact for which she was very grateful. “So...” Fancy said. “You’ve been busy.” “Yes,” Luna replied with a grimace. “I’ve had nary a moment to myself for some time, given all the daily duties of state. But Midnight is back, now, so...” Fleur mock-punched Luna in her shoulder, smirking at her. “Yes, ma petite. Because he meant that, and not when you ran off to another country to fight a dragon.” “Oh,” Luna replied, feeling a little foolish. “Yes, that did happen.” “And what exactly did happen, Luna?” Fancy asked, leaning forward in rapt attention. “We’ve really only heard of the aftermath. Frightfully expensive to get tea, now.” “We... did put out a press release upon Our return...” “Yes, the official press release said you were traveling to deal with a potential threat to Equestria, while the accompanying stories all said you were in cahoots with Neighsia to quadruple the prices of imports.” “What?” Luna said, her eyes wide. “Who would dare?” “Every newspaper, Princess.” Fancy replied. “There is some variation. Some say you’re conspiring with the Scoltish Shipping Empire instead. Of course, the fringe newspapers are still writing about how you have your sister entrapped in a dungeon under the city... Or that you are in fact Queen Chrysalis and have both sisters imprisoned.” Luna didn’t quite know what to say, but wild visions filled her head of dunking reporters in boiling ink and then tossing them on a pyre of their own misbegotten printed lies. “Mon Coeur, you are upsetting her!” Fleur said with an angry glare. “Do not trouble yourself,  ma petite. The newspapers will have their scandals.” “Charlatans, all of them!” Luna seethed. “It’s simple spite.” “It’s speculation, actually.” Fancy replied, blowing a kiss to Fleur. “I thought I might bring it up because it’s been a bit rampant, even for Canterlot. It’s fine and good to pick and choose your own Press Corps as you did, but if you give the rest of the press nothing, you risk them drawing their own conclusions.” “Nay, it is spite. I gave them an entire prepared speech upon my taking up my sister’s duties, and they ignored me simply because my sister wasn’t there!” Luna said, her anger still simmering. “That’s why I tossed them all out on their posteriors and Middy replaced them with ponies willing to do their jobs!” “Understandable,” Fancy said judiciously. “But there’s a reason your sister kept them close to her. Many of those journalists have decades-long careers and dedicated readers. They are respected, and are going to write stories regardless of what they hear from the crown directly. Placing them in her Press Corps allowed Celestia to at least take a hoof in what they wrote about.” Luna snorted disdainfully. “A hoof in their choices? I think not. I’d rather give them a hoof wherein the light does not go! The slander I’ve read about both her and myself is beyond the pale. She should have thrown them out ages ago. I should have thrown them in the dungeon.” Fancy Pants shrugged, draining the rest of his glass. “Perhaps. But you’ve more or less been ignoring them for weeks now, and no real harm came of it. I just wanted you to be aware, in case it does become an issue. Most ponies are quite sensible when it comes to believing their own eyes and ears, and you’ve done well for the citizens.” Fleur nodded enthusiastically. “What he says is true, ma petite. Ponies grumble and complain, but few believe the rumor mill at all. It would, however, help if they knew more.” Luna indulged herself in one final internal fit of anger before she took a long, deep and cleansing breath. “Very well. I have been entirely too occupied with day to day matters to worry about such things, but now that I have time once more, I will think upon what should be shared about my experiences in the east.” “I’ll look forward to it,” Fancy replied. Luna nodded, flashing him an apologetic grin. “I did not intend to spoil our visit by getting upset, my friends. Tis simply a sore subject.” She drained her own glass, taking another from the tray. “Pray tell, what word of the Worthinghams?” Fleur snickered at Luna’s side. Fancy gave her a warning look, for which she stuck her tongue out at him. He grabbed another drink for himself and rolled his eyes at her. “They are very much on the mend.” “It would be sweet if I did not know them at all,” Fleur said with a grimace. “As it is, I find it disturbing.” “I find it sweet regardless,” Fancy said with a slow smile. “I should hope we’re still holding hooves at their age.” “Speak for yourself, mon coeur! I have no intention of getting old...” Luna smiled outwardly as the two of them bantered for a time, but inwardly she was troubled. She was becoming less and less uncertain about her feelings for the pair, and that was as frightening as it was exhilarating. Equestria's law did not have a precedent for a single Royal Consort, much less a pair. Which wasn’t to say none of the royalty of her age had taken one, but that they were never declared publicly. Regardless, if it truly was love she was feeling, she refused to simply hide it as she had with Night Blossom. Though even the idea sent fresh worries through her mind. Should there be a ceremony? Perhaps she should just declare it to the citizens and let them say what they would? Or some combination of both? At the very least it would make Celestia’s own declaration easier, later on. That was a plus, at least. Though perhaps she would end up... 'stealing Celestia’s thunder', as it were, by doing so? Her sister had been going through a lot of late. There had been a time in which she would have gladly stolen the show from her sister just for a little attention. That time had passed. “Yoohoo! Are you with us, princesse?” Luna smiled apologetically. “Yes, I was just lost in thought for a moment.” Fleur looked her straight in the eyes, and held her gaze for an indeterminate length of time before smiling and gently booping her on the nose. “I cannot remain cross with you, ma petite.” Luna rubbed her nose, uncertain how to respond. “Did I miss something?” “Nothing terribly important, Luna.” Fancy replied promptly. “Fleur was asking after your sister. We were both wondering how her recovery is progressing.” Luna’s confused expression cleared, and she smiled once more. “Ah. She is doing well. The last I saw of her I unfortunately had to forbid her from accompanying me to Neighsia. It displeased her, to say the least. That was only a few weeks ago.” “I see,” Fancy said, pulling out his pipe and packing it thoughtfully. “I thought she was more or less fine, physically?” “She is. ‘Tis her magic that needs replenishment. Only time and rest will accomplish that, and fending off a giant flying snake is anything but restful.” Luna replied, taking and devouring a canape from yet another servant that brought them by. Her eyes twinkled happily; the savory brie and basil did wonders to lighten her heart. “She might have enjoyed yelling at Old Torch, though. I found it very therapeutic, and the other dragons seemed to enjoy the prospect of impending doom.” Fancy’s eyebrows rose in a rare expression of surprise. “Did something go wrong with negotiations?” Luna shook her head. “It went as expected. When treating with dragons you must be prepared to utterly destroy them. Anything less than the ability to annihilate their species will cause them to lose respect for you. Torch was still upset about some of his relatives being slain in my honor many tens of centuries ago, and was set on destroying the entire family lines of the ones responsible. Since the ponies in question were some of the most prolific stallions in known history, it would have meant losing around eighty percent of our population.” “That... sounds unpleasant,” Fleur said with wide eyes. “I feel I would miss many of those ponies, and the prospect of others I would not miss being rent asunder does not make up for that.” “Fear not, Dame. You were amongst the eighty, as was Fancy. Your end would have been quick and relatively painless, as dragonfire burns to the bone in short order, quicker than most nerves can send pain signals.” “Well... that’s comforting, in a grisly sort of way,” Fancy said, looking faintly ill. “How does one even respond to that?” “I countered his demand with a promise to boil his lands and people with sunfire should any of his kind make any moves of hostility in our land, and that any survivors would be beset with the worst nightmares I could conceive of for the rest of their lives as I hunted them down personally. Considering the tortures I contemplated for my sister as I was trapped on the moon going insane for one thousand years, the things I would do to the living would make them envy the dead.” It was a very long moment before Fancy spoke again. “H-how did you come away from that without open warfare between our lands?” “I brought a very good diplomat with me. Also, a cake the size of a small house.” “A... cake,” Fancy said breathlessly. Luna nodded in all earnestness. “I am very grateful for the existence of cake. When I last treated with Torch, I was forced to display my dominance with a drinking contest. Some regrettable things happened to the landscape in the aftermath.” “What sort of things?” Fleur asked from Luna’s side. “The Dragon Lands were once filled with verdant mountains, the tops capped with snow. Now they are a wasteland full of volcanic activity. Torch thanked me for that by razing what used to be a mountain range in the middle of Equestria, leaving only the mountain Celestia later built her castle upon. Honestly I think we both came away better for it, as ponies prefer plains to mountains, and dragons thrive in heat, but I’ve no wish to wake up again wondering why my horn is throbbing.” Another silence followed, broken by Fleur’s hesitant laughter. “You jest with us, oui?” Luna shook her head. “I do not.” “And where was Celestia, in all of this?” Fancy asked. “Making certain our paths of destruction did not cause the deaths of dragon or pony,” Luna said, allowing her remaining wine to swirl gently in her magic. “Have no fear, it takes much for me to reach that point. But that was the reason I was reluctant to imbibe when first we met. I had more or less sworn off spirits, and of course during my exile it wasn’t an option. I do not mind a little now and again, it’s quite nice.” “Just the same, I think I’ll have them stick with wine in the future, and avoid stronger drink,” Fancy said. “For the safety of, well, everypony.” Fleur nodded. “Besides, there are other ways to leave one feeling the same,” she shamelessly nuzzled under Luna’s chin, then said: “If you keep your promise to stay with us tonight, we shall see how many of them we have time for.” Luna looked down into Fleur’s eyes, having to resist the urge to kiss her while they still had company. “I look forward to it.”