//------------------------------// // 11. - Dragon King // Story: This Nose Knows // by Irrespective //------------------------------// Baked Bean slid out of his chambers, across the hall, and into the opposing wall with a satisfying splat. His hooves skittered on the marble floors in a desperate attempt to get moving, and it took an unseen nudge from the butt of the nearby guard’s spear to get him reacquainted with traction. He was late. “Curse you, Daring Do,” Bean grumbled while he finally got moving up to a dead run. “Celly is gonna have me drawn and quartered and turned into glue. Maybe she’ll be nice and turn my tail into a violin bow, at least.” Where had it all gone wrong for him? Was it when the bits had been exchanged in Fillydelphia for a pristine, never-before-opened set of the Daring Do anthology, or perhaps the fateful moment had been when Miss A.K. ‘Daring Do Is A Real Pony, By The Way’ Yearling had put her personalized touch on the title page? Maybe it had been when he’d started reading to Celestia last night. He’d kept on reading long after she had slid into slumber, and when he’d awoken the next morning, he started right where he’d left off. That was most likely how it had happened, and then it had cascaded on from there. Celestia had gotten ready for the day while he had read, and with a skillful deployment of the dreaded puppy dog eyes and a soft “just one more chapter, please?” he had managed to keep reading. One chapter, however, had turned into one book later, and now he was two hours late for the subcommittee meeting that he’d promised to be on time to. Bean hit a corner at full speed during this musing, but his attempt to power slide around was a miserable failure and he managed to ricochet off of two successive pillars with his legs flailing in the air before getting upright again. This was not a good way to begin the day, and he hoped this was not a harbinger of things to come. He slammed into another wall and narrowly missed a guard as he rounded the final bend and saw the door that lead to his intended target. Success! Celestia would still probably give him a stern look and then lecture him later about being punctual, but that would be preferable to not showing up at all. When Bean was about eight years old, his mother had suffered a serious fall in the kitchen area of the Zürst and was out of commission for two months. The incident prompted Garbanzo to install slip-resistant flooring in the high risk areas around the preparation stations and stoves, and it had been agreed by all that the working area had been made safer by doing so. This had lead to Bean using the floor as a natural braking mechanism during his many failed attempts at cooking while rushing around, so he still expected the same results when he slammed all four hooves to the ground to stop himself now. It was just then that he caught sight of a janitor, just to his right, who was whistling a merry melody while he buffed the floor, and Baked Bean imagined he felt the same amount of shock that the staffer was showing while he realized what was coming. Bean’s hooves flailed as he desperately tried to find something that would halt his forward momentum, but inertia was decidedly against such nonsense and was far more interested in sending him face first into the door. Bean managed to prevent his nose from suffering a rather painful boop by throwing his front hooves in front of him at the last moment. He collided at full speed with the oakwood separator of rooms, but then found that he somehow had enough momentum to proceed through the unlocked entryway and into the room. The edge of a finely lacquered cherry wood table finally brought a halt to his skid, but he quickly popped up after he’d been leveled and dove into the conveniently empty chair that was next to him. “Oh yeah,” he groaned, but then he smiled bashfully while he rubbed his ribs with a hoof and made an attempt at catching his breath. “My apologies, everypony, for being late. I’m afraid I got wrapped up in a good book.” “Forgive me, Prince Bean, but I didn’t know you were scheduled to attend this meeting with us.” Bean’s eyes shrank to pinpricks. That was not Celestia’s voice. It was too deep, too masculine. This was the wrong meeting. “We are, of course, honored to have you here, my Prince.” Blueblood offered from Bean’s left. “I’m sure your insights will be of great benefit in helping us settle this rather difficult dispute.” Bean’s mind raced for a moment as he tried to recall the itinerary that Wysteria had gone over with them this morning. Curse you, Daring Do! He’d been so absorbed in reading The Griffon’s Goblet that he hadn’t heard most of what she’d said. There was the subcommittee meeting, and several schools were scheduled to tour the palace today, and… what else? No more books in the morning for him, he decided. “Now, shall we resume?” Blueblood turned to a gray, gruff, and burly pony on his left that had day old stubble on his chin and a yellow hard hat. “I believe we were negotiating dental benefits, were we not?” “Yeah. We’re not budging on this. We have to have the orthodontia limits increased.” “I’m afraid that is just not feasible,” a blue pony in a suit and tie across from him replied. “The tertiary costs alone will drive up premiums to a level that you have stated previously to be unacceptable.” It was going to be a long morning. * * ✹ * * “Now I want everypony to stay close together!” Cheerilee called out to her class while doing a quick headcount. “As you can see, today is a very busy day here in the palace, and I don’t want anypony getting lost. Do you all have your buddies?” “Yes, Miss Cheerilee,” her class droned back. “Good. No matter what, stay with your buddy, all right? If we should happen to get separated, stay where you are and with your buddy, and either I will find you or one of the nice Royal Guardsponies will help you to find us.” “What if the Princess finds us first?” Scootaloo asked. “I’m pretty sure you can trust Princess Celestia,” Cherilee laughed. “D’ya think we’ll meet her today?” Applebloom looked upwards, seemingly in the hope of watching her arrive right at that very moment. “I wouldn’t count on it, but you never know,” Cheerilee replied while motioning with her hoof for her class to follow her. “She is very busy with her duties, after all. I’m not even sure she is in Canterlot right now.” “Well, it’s not like we haven’t met her before,” Sweetie Belle observed. “She’s been to Ponyville a dozen times, at least.” “Pretty impressive, eh?” Scootaloo remarked, her wings buzzing slightly in excitement, as she gave a shove to a blue colt who was lagging towards the back of the huddle.  “Ponyville may not be Manehattan, but we sure got on the map when Rainbow Dash and her friends started saving Equestria.” If the newest addition to little school house was impressed, he didn’t show it. If anything, the cheerful bragging of his fellow student seemed to have the opposite effect. He seemed almost rigid, taut like a bowstring. What movement he made was that of someone expecting to be attacked, but remaining aloof and cool about it. “Have you ever seen the Princess, Flint?”  His ‘buddy’ for the day, a little grey unicorn filly chirped from his side. His gaze went further distant, as if he was remembering something, before his amber eyes fell on the filly. “Once,” he practically hissed. “She is so cool, isn’t she?” The filly bounced in place in excitement.  “Do you think we will see her?” “I only hope I have something to throw if we do,” he snarled under his breath. “Like… flowers?” She wondered. “Or a brick.  But I suppose some in a vase will suffice.” The little stallion’s posture remained unwavering, completely lacking the carefree nature of his classmates, making him altogether… unnatural. “Oooookay.”  This answer puzzled the filly known as Dinky Hooves, like much of how her new classmate talked. But Flint was new, and her mommy always said that she needed to treat new ponies in the community like how she would want to be treated. “Everypony, follow me please!” Cheerilee called out. “We are going to begin our tour with the throne room, and then we’ll move on towards the Grand Ballroom, with a quick peek into one of the conference rooms. From there, we’ll move out into the gardens, and I expect you to be on your best behavior.” Cheerilee’s gaze was squarely on three blank flanked fillies, and all three found the marble floor beneath their feet to be the most interesting thing in the world at that moment. Sweeping ahead, Cheerilee led her little throng of eager minds. This would be her eighth trip to the palace—fifth one as a teacher—and while she did feel this class was a hoof full at times, she had faith that a brisk pace and a packed schedule would prevent any chance for mischief. Like dutiful ducks, the fillies and colts filed after her as the tour proper began, save one. The pony known by most as Flint Hearthstone further glowered as he glanced around the immaculate perfection around him, and he couldn’t help but blanch at it all. How long did it take you to build these spires, so arrogantly confident that no one would dare have them crash down and make them your tomb? The polished gilding and decadence about him only fueled his disgust. If I still had my old form I would burn this obelisk of your pride, and send the ruin smashing down into the valley below. His gaze drifted to the floor, and an unbidden but not unwelcome snarl emerged from his throat.  Anypony else looking with him would of seen a mirror image of a grumpy looking colt taking in his own visage. But the child saw more, as he always did. He saw the visage of the soul that was now bound to this scrawny meat sack, his massive scaled hide stretching across the vast floor, his wings spreading far beyond the bounds of the hallway, his steel talons clenching the marble, yearning to crush it into powder, his fangs glistening in the sunlight that drifted in through the window.  His eyes remained the same, the same burning amber fire that had failed to extinguish over a millennia ago, when the sisters had seemingly slain him with that rock from the aether above. Yet he lived, he breathed. At the cost of nearly a thousand years, and— “Heelllooo?” With a start, Flint’s gaze went back to the present. “Hey? Get stuck on something shiny?” Dinky asked as she tilted her head. Flint only offered a harrumph as he plodded forward, practically stomping, as if he were much heavier. Dinky simply shrugged at her buddy’s actions before bounding off to catch up with him and the rest of the class. You have grown careless in your centuries, witch, Flint groused while he moved forward. Had I been in your stead, I would know you were here by now and I would have dispatched you, and any of those you were with. Flint then stopped. A spiral staircase off to one side was unguarded, save for a thick velvet rope held aloft by two brass stands. Ideas began to form and churn within his head, and after a moment, a wicked smile began to appear. “Woah, you smile?” Dinky asked. “Only when I have a reason to. Tell me, Dinky, what do you think is up that staircase?” “I dunno,” she shrugged again. “I suppose that’s where the private bedrooms and stuff are.” “I do believe you are right, and all of the sudden, I feel a burning need to introduce myself to ‘Princess’ Celestia. Doesn’t that sound like fun?” “Well, yeah, but we’re supposed to stay with Miss Cheerilee.” “Then stay with her. I’m going.” Flint began to march over to the stairs. “Don’t come looking for me.” Dinky twisted her head back between the rapidly retreating class and the departing Flint. She knew she shouldn’t wander off, but she had been told to stay with her buddy. “Flint, wait!” she finally called out, and her hooves scampered across the floor. “I’m coming too!” There was an audible groan, and Flint’s shoulders slumped for a moment. “Dinky, if you get in my way …” “Oh, I won’t get in the way. I wanna meet the Princess too.” Flint rolled his eyes, but he realized this could be advantageous. Dinky was naive and young, and she would most likely remain unaware of his true motives. She could also perform the part of a lookout, not that he needed one, and at the very least he could probably devise some reason to get rid of her once he figured out where Celestia was. “Flint, do you think we’ll meet Prince Bean too?” “Prince Bean?” he asked. His mind took a moment to recall that detail, but then he sneered. As he was now, he stood no chance at striking a direct blow to the white witch. But the heart was one of the most sensitive parts of a pony, after all… “I think there could be a very good chance of that, Dinky. In fact, I think I’d like to meet him first. I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself to him yet.” * * ✹ * * Well, that was two hours of Bean’s life that he’d never get back. Bean took a moment to stretch his right leg once he’d exited the room, and he rubbed his still-sore ribs. He’d hit the table with quite a bit of velocity, and he was going to be feeling that impact for a few more days. But, at least the negotiations had been concluded, and with most everypony happy with the end result. Bean didn’t believe he had been much help during the discussions, but it did seem like his presence had kept tempers from flaring out of control, and perhaps a few concessions had been made that might not otherwise have been. He had been impressed with how Blueblood had handled both himself and the negotiations, and he had wondered once or twice if he could ever reach that level of skill. He was sure Celestia would teach him how to do so, of course, but a small part of him was worried that his inability to multitask would hamper his efforts in that regard. There were so many moving pieces in any negotiation, so many ins and outs to keep track of. Even the exact wording and the tone a pony used was important, vital even. The subtle clues that all ponies gave off had clearly shown Blueblood where to press and where to relax. He shook his head and began walking back towards his room. There was no point in worrying about such things now, he had a wife to apologize to. He didn’t think she’d be mad at him, but she probably would be disappointed. He wasn’t looking forward to her inevitable lecture, but he knew he needed to take it and to learn from the incident. But for now, he really wanted some food. He would most likely find his beloved in the dining room, ordering lunch, and the thought of a hearty meal did pick up his spirits some. His stomach had protested the lack of breakfast throughout the meeting, and a nice dandelion salad sounded rather good at the moment. “Good morning, sir,” Sergeant Clover offered to him with a quick salute. Bean let out a small startled gasp. “How long have you been there?” “This whole time, sir.” “I am both reassured and a little scared that you managed to hide out like that.” “It’s part of the job, sir,” she smirked. “How was your meeting? It took me a moment to figure out where you went.” “Long, but beneficial I think. Maybe I should crash in on the wrong meeting more often.” “I think you might want to just walk in on them, sir. You won’t bruise as many ribs that way.” “You make a very valid point,” he replied, but then he noticed something was a bit off about the guard standing next to Clover. “You’re not Sergeant Pokey, are you?” “SIR, NO SIR!” the guard bellowed with as much force as she possibly could. “Private Lemon Tart, at your service sir!” “Private Tart is fresh out of Basic, sir,” Sergeant Clover explained with a slight sigh while Bean rubbed his ears. “Top of her class, high marks in aerial maneuvers and close-range combat technique. The top five cadets out of basic are rewarded with the opportunity to guard either Princess for a few days, but Lieutenant Spear Point agreed to include you as part of that at the request of the cadets. She’s with me until Sergeant Pokey returns from vacation.” “Well, it’s nice to have you here, Private,” Bean offered. “I’m sure you’ll be a tremendous asset.” “SIR, THANK YOU, SIR!” “I gotta give you points for enthusiasm.” Bean rubbed his ears again. “How long will Pokey be out, Clover?” “Three days, sir. Once he gets back, Tart will be sent off for advanced training, and eventually she’ll be put in the rotation for Princess detail.” Bean nodded in understanding and turned his attention back to the newbie. “Well, if you’re going to stay with me then we need to establish a few rules.” “Sir, what rules, sir?!” “First off, no more shouting. I’m right here. I know drill sergeants love that kind of stuff but I’m not a fan of that so much.” “Sir, I will tone it down, sir.” “There we go, I like that,” Bean replied with a smile. “Second main thing is to relax. You should enjoy this opportunity, and learn as much as you can from Sergeant Clover Leaf. She has a lot of good advice and practical tips she can share with you.” “Sir, I’ll be sure to ask her lots of questions, sir.” “Good. Now, I’m hungry, and I really should find my wife. I am willing to bet she wants to know where I got off to. Clover, is there any chance you could go find out where she is for me while I go get something to eat?” “Sure thing, sir. I need to introduce Tart anyway. I’ll have her rendezvous with you in the dining room.” Bean nodded to that and then made for the nearest path to the kitchen. He chuckled a bit as his ears focused on the steady din that was invading from the main floor upwards, and from the volume, it sounded like the school tours were a resounding success. Perhaps he could talk Celestia into making an appearance; he was pretty extra sure the little fillies and colts would love to have what could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet her in the flesh. They might be mildly interested in him, but his beloved would definitely be the focus. He was grateful that the upper floors had been cordoned off and secured; it made it much easier to procure food, and it was beyond a fair bet to assume that Luna would not appreciate visitors at the moment. He could also imagine the bedlam that would happen if a rather adventurous child did somehow manage to stow away in his own bed. With a chuckle for such thoughts, Bean pushed the door to the dining room open. At this time of day, the cooks should be barrel deep in their preparations for lunch, and it would probably be twice as bad with the extra visitors around and about today. From what he could see, the clean-up from breakfast had been as efficient as always, and all was peaceful and still, but also Celestia free. Perhaps he could make a reconciliatory lunch for Celestia, to help her forgiveness of his tardiness. It was hard to be mad at a pony who had made something delicious. However, he found that he was not as alone as he thought he was. A grey unicorn filly was sitting in a chair near one of the ends of the table, an apple in hoof and a happy smile on her face. “Well, hello there!” Bean smiled while he approached, but he also glanced around. “Who might you be?” “I’m Dinky,” she stated simply. “Are you Prince Bean?” “I am. Do your parents work here, sweetie?” “Nah, my mommy’s a mailmare back home.” “Ah, I see,” he replied. “And where is that at?” “Ponyville.” “Is she here with you on the tour?” he asked gently. Obviously she had gotten lost somehow, but she didn’t seem to be terribly concerned about it. It would only take a moment to reunite her with her mother, or her teacher, and then all would be well. “No, I’m here with Miss Cheerilee,” she replied while stuffing the core of the apple into her mouth. “Well, me and Flint that is.” “Oh?” he asked with a chuckle. This little filly was too adorable with her cheeks puffed out from the apple like a chipmunk’s would be. “And where is he at?” “He’s right behind you.” “He is?” Bean asked, but when he turned to look something connected with his head, and a field of stars filled his vision for a moment before he blacked out. * * ✹ * * Bean groaned as consciousness decided to take a turn with being in charge, and his head throbbed something fierce. “Ooh. What hit me?” “A frying pan, if you really must know.” Bean’s ears swiveled to the source of the noise in the darkness. It was a small colt’s voice, yet it held a deep undercurrent of anger, malice, and contempt. Bean had never heard such diametrically opposed tones blended together in such a way, and he attempted to twist his body so as to make a visual connection to this odd finding. This ended quickly in failure when Bean found he was sitting in a chair and was secured to it with what felt like a strong and lengthy piece of rope. He pulled and tugged for a moment, but the laugh of amused contempt that came from the darkness that surrounded him caused a pause. “Oh, please. Struggle all you like,” the voice offered. “You have no idea how much I like watching my prey squirm.” “Who are you? What is going on?” Bean demanded. “Release me right now! When Princess Celestia finds out what you’ve done, you’re going to be in big trouble, young colt!” “Oh, I’m rather counting on that.” A single light then flicked on over Bean, and he blinked rapidly at the suddenness of it. “In fact, I hope she hurries. I did promised Dinky we would be back in time to tour the gardens.” “I wanna see the bird fountains!” Dinky’s voice emanated from somewhere. “Quite. It’d be a shame if she missed out on that, wouldn’t it, Your Highness?” For some reason, Bean could hear the owner of the voice curl his upper lip into a sneer. And it was not that good of a sneer either. “Who are you?” Bean repeated. This time, a small blue colt with a blondish-red mane stepped into the light with a smug grin, and in his right hoof he held what appeared to be a skillet. “Who am I?” he asked. “Well, for starters, I’m the one who beaned you with a frying pan. It’s a little embarrassing to be taken out by just a small little colt like me, isn’t it?” “That’s not a frying pan.” The colt blinked once. “What?” “You took me out with a skillet, not a frying pan. See, a frying pan is shallow, has low sides and a long handle, while a skillet has high sides, is at least two inches deep, has varying lengths of handles, and can have a lid on it. That skillet you’ve got is an Inferno and Rossi, the highest quality cast iron skillet on the market. It’s also heavy as Tartatus, which explains how you managed to knock me out. It really doesn’t take a lot of force with something that heavy—” “Fascinating!” he snarled, his patience clearly dwindling. “Truly. Had I but known my grievous error I would have hit you harder,” the colt threatened with a forceful tap of Bean’s nose. “Flint!” Dinky protested. “You said we weren’t going to hurt him!” “My plans do not require it; that is not to say I won’t.”  His teeth curled back in a sneer as his eyes bore into the captured prince. “C’mon, Flint. Be nice. You said you wanted to meet him, not clobber him.” Flint rolled his amber eyes. “It’s always been impossible to find good help. This is why I work alone.” “So, what’s your plan then?” Bean dared to ask. “You obviously foalnapped me…” the mere concept of being napped by actual foals interrupted his thoughts at the irony before he was able to get back on track, “to get at Celestia, but why?” If Bean didn’t already have a headache, he would have gained one from hearing such a young colt cackle in such a cruelly malicious manner. “My plan is simple, Highness. You are missing, and the ivory sow that you call wife will naturally wonder where you have gotten to. I plan on making her personal acquaintance once she does find her way in here.” Bean shook his head at the implied threats this little miscreant was spouting. “What in Equestria could Celestia have done to you to warrant all this?” Flint’s eyes lit up with an inner rage, and his face contorted into a fierce scowl. “What did she do?! I’ll tell you what she did! Her ponies infringed upon my borders; invaded my lands! She dared to challenge my supremacy, and then! Then! She condemns me to this accursed form, a mere shadow of what I once was! I was a King, Lord of all fire drakes!  A creature of such horrible glory that all who knew me feared and trembled, but now?! Her sin is condemning me to a body that is subject to her whims and proclamations! I will make her pay for her insolence, and her dark sister as well! They will feel my fury! They will—” “Flint?” Dinky tapped his shoulder. “What did I tell you?” His posture did not falter even as his tone fell to a hiss. “Don’t interrupt when you’re monologuing?” “And what are you doing?” Bean could actually see some of the veins in his eyes turn bright red and bulge slightly. “But it’s an emergency.” Immediately, his eyes went wide and he spun around, skillet at the ready, only to find nothing. “No, not that.” “What then?” he all but roared. “I need to use the little filly’s room,” she  whispered while scratching a hoof on the floor. Flint went to dumbfounded annoyance with enough speed to shear a tree clean in half. “Didn’t I tell you to go when we got up here?” “Yeah, but I didn’t have to go then.” “You’re going to have to hold it. We have to wait here for Celestia.” Dinky clearly did not like this option. She began to dance slightly with her rear legs crossed, and a whimper eeked out in a rhythmic match to her ‘I need to go now’ shuffle. “Oh, slag it all!” Flint groaned. “Fine! But make it quick. If we miss Celestia because of this…” “I’ll be fast, Flint, really!” From his position in the chair Bean did his best not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of what was going on. He should be afraid, he knew, but this kid was clearly off his nut, and his story might even be true. Magic did tend to do weird things like this. Still, he couldn’t really see a reason to be all that afraid, considering that Celestia had greater reach than this ‘fiend’. For a moment, the amusing image of his wife holding back Flint with one hoof on his forehead while he flailed in vain to hit her crossed his mind, but he decided it would be best not to share his thoughts at the moment. “Don’t go anywhere, Highness.” Flint cackled back to Bean while the two left. Bean immediately began to try to extricate himself from his bonds as soon as the door shut. Celestia had mentioned she was going to show what to do if he should ever find himself tied up, but they had not yet gotten to that lesson, much to his detriment. His mind began working furiously as he tried to figure this out, and he wiggled back and forth in an effort to squirm free. His rocking, sadly did little for him other than to nearly send him crashing onto his side. “Ok, Bean. New strategy,” he muttered. “What else can you do?” His stomach decided that now was a wonderful time to remind him that it was still empty, but the growling pain gave him an idea. He dropped his head down to the ropes that held his barrel against the chair, and he took a deep sniff. Hemp rope. Not very tasty, but he could chew through it. Immediately his teeth went to work. The texture left much to be desired, and it could really use some basil, a dash of allspice, and perhaps even some salt, but it was breaking under his jaw power and that was all he really cared about at the moment. With just a few more snips, he should be able to… “Don’t break free just yet.” “Luna?!” Bean squeaked, and he let out a deep sigh of relief when he saw her cyan irises appear a short distance away from him. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you! Quick, help me get untied before that little maniac gets back here!” “Not yet, Bean,” she admonished. “If he comes back in here and finds you untied, he might do something rash. I will take care of him, trust me. Remain as you are for the moment.” Bean started to protest, but then he realized what she was saying was true. Luna could ambush Flint if he returned and found nothing amiss. He really wasn’t keen on the idea, but he forced himself to relax. “Does Celly know what is going on?” “She does. Now be quiet. He returns.” Her eyes disappeared, and the door of the room swung open again. Dinky bounded in with a happy little hum, and Flint followed closely behind with something in his hoof. Once the door was secured again, he turned back to Bean and chuckled. “I’m not sure if I’m impressed or disappointed, Highness. You follow orders well, but you really should have tried to escape. But since we are on a time limit here, I’m afraid we need to expedite things and get that witch of yours up here.” The thing in Flint’s hoof glinted in the light for a quick moment, but Bean cocked his head to one side once he was able to get a good look at it. “Is that a potato peeler?” “Flint couldn’t reach the knives,” Dinky offered. “Silence!” Flint shouted. “Well, you couldn’t,” Dinky huffed. “This works for my needs,” Flint threatened while hopping up on a stool next to Bean. “You’ll scream all the same when your skin is peeled away from your hide, will you not?” “No,” Bean stated firmly. “Not for a little psycho like you.” “Let’s find out, shall we—eeee!” Luna’s magic held Flint aloft in the air while simultaneously separating him from his weapon of fur removal, and a deep frown was on her face when the shadows that had been concealing her dropped from view. “It has been a long time, King Xedranen,” she offered in a cool and even voice. “You are looking well.” “RELEASE ME! MOON HAG!” Flint raved while he twisted and churned in her magic. “You and your accursed sister are the reason I’m like this, aren’t you?! I will have my vengeance! I will not sleep until—” “Sleep.” Bean blinked in amazement as Flint’s body instantly went limp. “I didn’t know you could do that.” “It is useful to know how to help a troubled mind return to slumber,” Luna offered. “You know, for a craven little psychopath, he’s kinda cute when he sleeps,” Bean offered dryly, before breaking the rope with a final snip of his teeth. “Indeed he is, and he is already dreaming.” “Really? That can’t be a pretty sight.” Luna shook her head once with her eyes closed. “Actually, it is quite pleasant. He is dreaming of a picnic. It is a recent one in Manehattan, one with…” “With who, Lulu?” Celestia asked from behind Bean. He gave a gasp of delight, and the two nuzzed each other affectionately. “With his parents, his pony parents. Perhaps there may be hope for him yet.” “Are you alright, my love?” Celestia asked while her magic wrapped around him and began checking for injuries. “I think I’m fine,” he replied. “Bump on my head, but he bruised my ego mostly.” “Can we play a different game now?” Dinky pouted from her place in the corner. * * ✹ * * Flint blinked a few times as the effects of Luna’s sleep spell began to wear off. He was no longer in the darkened storage room that he had commandeered, but once his eyes focused in on the white tormentor of his existence before him, he completely forgot everything that he had been planning. “YOU!” he roared with an attempt to fling himself at the focal point of his hatred, but he went nowhere. It was then that he realized he was in the dining room again, and he was being restrained in a high chair, of all things. He growled and pulled at the magical restraints that held him while Celestia watched calmly, but after a few moments of failure he finally stopped and folded his arms tightly. “Well?” he huffed. “Well what?” Celestia replied. “Come on! Do it!” “Very well, if you insist,” Celestia replied with a deep sigh. She then slowly lifted her right hoof, and… “Boop,” she giggled. Flint scrunched up his muzzle and bit at the retreating hoof with an audible chomp. He further writhed against his restraints as well while he attempted to wipe away the offensive moosh of his nose. “ENOUGH! Use your infernal magic, lobotomize me! Render me into one of your simpering fleabags!” “Hey, this fleabag made cookies,” Bean offered while entering the room with a fresh tray of slightly-steaming goodness in his hot-mitted hooves. “Are they poisoned?” Flint sneered. “Chocolate chip, actually.” “So,” Celestia offered with a calm smile, “I say the four of us should enjoy some fresh cookies and milk, and then we send you and Miss Dinky on your way.” “Flint, you’ve got to try one!” A milk mustachio’d Dinky offered while holding a round disk of bliss in one hoof, and a glass of perfectly chilled milk in the other. “These things are amazing!” “You can’t be serious,” Flint replied to the diarch. “You’re letting me go?! Why would you do such a foolhardy thing?” “Because you are just a child.” “You dare—” “You cannot possibly beat me as you are,” Celestia offered with such an unnatural edge in her voice that it made Bean cower slightly. “If I so wished, I could crush you with just a thought. But I will not do that, not to a child. I am not like you.” It was almost imperceptible, but Bean did catch the slight wince that Flint could not stop. “I will thus make you this promise before my husband, O fallen Dragon King of Zerilith. In twenty years’ time, I will face you, should you still desire to exact your revenge. Until then, you are free to live your life as you choose. Grow up, grow strong, and make friends. You may find life to be far more fulfilling if you do so.” Flint snorted derisively at this, but otherwise remained silent. Bean watched as the diminutive overlord pondered this with his eyes downcast for a moment, only for them to flick back up. Despite his wife dwarfing him by hilarious degrees, the colt’s stare flared with an intense energy held behind his amber eyes that was matched by the fire behind Celestia’s own magenta irises. “I accept.” “Wonderful. Now, let us celebrate this… blood oath, I suppose, with some chocolate chip goodness.” * * ✹ * * “Ok. I know you explained this all to me, but could we run over it again?” Bean asked his beloved while they watched Flint and Dinky walk away under the intense glare and frown of Miss Cheerilee. “I got lost at a few points.” “Nine year old Flint Hearthstone was once King Xedranen, the self-proclaimed King of all Dragons,” Celestia started. “He was one of the first foes Luna and I squared off against after we came to power, and our efforts to stop his reign of terror at that time nearly cost us our lives. Had we failed, he would have decimated our fledgling kingdom.” Her eyes didn’t leave the retreating sight of her one time enemy, but with him now gone she allowed a shudder loose at the memory. “He was a cunning and formidable foe, and he cared for nothing but his own power and comfort. We were only able to defeat him thanks to a meteor Luna was able to pluck from the heavens. The crater still exists in the Badlands if you would like to see it.” “That might be interesting, but that also reaffirms my desire never to make your sister mad,” Bean remarked. “What I really don’t understand is how he made it here to our day, and why you’re letting him go if he is such a threat.” “I do not know how his soul became bound to pony form, but I can only assume that the forces of Harmony have something to do with it. For all of his talk of being a King, he ruled over none and had none to call his own, and I believe his own misery is what fed his anger. He now has the opportunity to try again, to find the magic of friendship. I let him go with the hope that he might be able to find something better than what he had.” “Do you really think somepony like that has a chance? He seemed pretty set on inflicting harm on you.” “I believed Discord could be reformed,” she offered with a small smile. “There’s hope for Flint, just as there is for any creature. It will be up to him to choose friendship, of course, but I believe even he has some good in him. We need to look no further than his cutie mark for an indication of what he could be.” “A dragon and a shield?” “It’s in the details, love,” she offered. “The dragon was spitting fire, but it was towards the shield. He is meant to be a protector, but the true telling point will be what he places behind the shield. What will be so important that he feels that he needs to protect it from what he once was, or what he thinks he is?” “I guess that makes sense. Hopefully he chooses well.” “I have confidence that he will. But what is really troubling you?” “It’s… well…” he stalled out with shame. “Some Prince I turned out to be. Isn’t it me who is supposed to rescue the damsel from the dragon?” “I never did care much for those stories. They usually didn’t really reflect reality all too well.” “No?” She shook her head gently. “Not at all. My favorite version, in fact, is when the dragon is rescued by the knight.” Bean tried not to look too surprised while he played the words over in his head. Once he had sifted through her words for sarcasm and came back empty hooved, he dared to look back at her and her smirk. “True story, I presided at their wedding. They made a lovely donkey and dragon together, and had a fine clutch of dronkies.” “Now that would be something to see,” he sighed in thought. “I also suppose none of this would have happened if I had been on time this morning.” “Maybe it was for the best,” she replied with a nip of his ear, “and you’re not the first to get lost in a good book. It will make for a funny story for the kids someday.” “Kids?” “You did say Flint was cute when he sleeps,” she replied with a twinkle in her eye. “And your mother still wants grandfoals, after all.” A month ago the idea of her suggesting offspring would have made him a blushing mess, but between the rough start, the rough meeting, the rough abduction and the attempted potato skin peeling, he was willing to be a bit daring. “Good point. Come here.” “W-what?” She leaned away from him with a slightly wild look in her eyes. “You heard me. C’mere.” “Bean, we have a meeting in an hour,” she squeaked in a most unprincessly manner while he nipped at her neck, but her smile stuck. “Yeah we do.” He lunged towards her, only for her to bound up and dodge him. His smile was… predatory. It was thrilling. She squealed as he pursued her, literally nipping at her heels as they retreated down the hallway. The chase was on.