An Earth Pony Village, Fall, Pre-Unification: The two young mares were like shadows— largely ignored by the townsfolk, if not actively shunned. The reason for this was as plain as the wings on their backs or the horns on their heads. They had been thrown out of the pegasus empire, and they were still under threat of death by the unicorns. The earth ponies had been the only ones even to tolerate their presence, and some didn’t even do that. However, Chancellor Puddinghead was among the few who actually seemed to like the two sisters, and so any dissenting voices were soon dismissed.
Nevertheless, the sisters’ presence was only barely tolerated by the majority of the town. It was only because of their incredible strength and usefulness to the ponies that they hadn’t been run out of town long ago. Their interactions with the townsponies were kept to a minimum. Unfortunately, some days, it couldn’t be avoided. “Get ye hence, Luna,” Celestia sighed. “The sooner we get our rations, the sooner we can be gone.”
Luna merely nodded. “Aye, sister,” she agreed, distracted. Following her line of sight, Celestia scowled.
Luna's attention was on the flank of a gorgeous orange mare who was trotting down the road ahead. Celestia's attention was drawn elsewhere. There was a pair of stallions, one tall and brown, the other stout and green, standing over by the council building, deep in a heated discussion. She reached out a tendril of magic and yanked her sister’s mane. “OW!” Luna yelped.
“Come along with ye,” Celestia grumbled, walking away from the accusing glare of the tall brown stallion, whose attention they had drawn.
***
Councillor Barley Corn watched the two mares go. “Shameless,” he growled. “Walkin’ aroun’ like that in front of decent folk.”
“Thou would prefer they flew, perhaps?” his companion suggested mildly. “Or mayhap teleported?”
Barley gave his shorter companion a long, hard stare. “Dost thou mock me, Cookie?”
The green pony met his gaze without so much as blinking. “I only think,” he began.
“I don’ care what ye think, Smart Cookie,” Barley snapped. “Thou may have th’ ear of th' Chancellor— for now, tha’ is— but soon ye’ll all see that yon two mares are naught but trouble!”
He stormed off, leaving Smart Cookie in a state of astonishment. Eventually, the councillor shook himself from his stupor. “Anger. That is naught but trouble,” he murmured.
He felt a tingling on the back of his neck. ‘Hm?” He turned to look at the forest behind him, but there was nopony there. And yet, he felt as though he was being watched… “Foolishness,” he muttered, but hurried along, nonetheless.
***
Inside the granary, ponies milled about, discussing the state of the harvest, the weather, and other topics of the day. Two, however, stood apart from the crowd-- not aloof, exactly, but apart, nonetheless. Celestia strode along, prideful and cold as winter, Luna scurrying to keep up with her sister’s lengthy steps. The crowd seemed, unconsciously, to part before them. It was not a mark of respect, but of fear. Celestia knew this well. Luna knew, too, but she preferred to pretend otherwise. Only when they had reached the table at the front of the room did they receive a genuine smile. “Ah, the babes in the woods return to us once more! Good day to ye!” Chancellor Puddinghead roared, a broad grin spread across his lined and ruddy face.
“Good morrow, Chancellor,” Celestia replied with a faint smile of her own.
“Good morrow, Mr. Puddinghead,” Luna singsonged, smiling fit to match the elder stallion in brightness.
“Ah, an’ a luvverly mornin’ it are,” the maroon pony agreed. “Wha’ can Oi be doin’ fer ye lassies this day?”
“We have come for our rations, please,” Celestia said, smiling despite herself. The old stallion’s quirky behavior and sunny demeanor was irresistible. Sometimes, he seemed even more of a child than Luna.
“Two sets o’ weekly rations for two beauteous fillies,” he declared, leaping toward the containers of grain meal and vegetables. And as he picked up the various foodstuffs, he began to juggle them— first a bag of flour, then tomatoes, carrots, potatoes, and a watermelon, tossing them all through the air with seemingly no effort at all. “An’ there we are,” he declared, jubilantly tossing all the food into their basket, one by one, adding a couple of sugar cubes on top with a fond, grandfatherly wink.
“We thank thee, Chancellor,” Celestia said with a slight bow.
“Th’ pleasure were all me own,” the Chancellor said with a deeper, exaggerated bow in return.
As the two sisters turned to go, the Chancellor added, “Oh yes, and one other thing."
Celestia turned back to face him. The Chancellor's smile had fallen. "Can ye no’ try to be quieter in the nights? It be keepin’ up the townsfolk.”
Celestia frowned. “What noise would that be?” she asked in confusion.
An uncharacteristically stern look crossed the Chancellor’s face. “Nae, don’ go playin’ tha’ with Oi, young mare. Ye ken well what Oi be talking ‘boot.”
Celestia was still perplexed, but she nodded slowly. “We’ll do our best,” she promised.
Chancellor Puddinghead lit up once more. “Aye, an’ that be all Oi can ask o’ yiz,” he said with a grin. “Have ye a nice day, now!”
As the sisters left, however, he scowled thoughtfully after them. “Can they really know naught of the noises?” he murmured.
***
Once they had left the town safely behind them, Luna spoke up. “What dost thou think the Chancellor meant, Celly? About the noises at night, I mean?”
Celestia shook her head in bafflement. “I know not, Luna,” she said. “O’course, it may just be th’ Chancellor being— well, th’ Chancellor.”
Luna frowned. “But—”
“Aye, that must be it,” Celestia decided. “Just the Chancellor being foolish. Let’s talk no more about it, Lulu.”
Luna’s scowl deepened. She hated when Celestia did this sort of thing. “But, Celly,” she pleaded.
“No more, says I! And I be thy elder sister!”
“By mere minutes!”
“Stop arguing with me!”
“I will, once ye stop arguin’ with me!”
“Luna!”
“Celestia!”
“Ladies, ladies!” came an unfamiliar, chiding tone. A pair of sky-blue hooves gently pushed apart the battling siblings. A pair of piercing blue eyes stared into each of theirs in turn. “Let’s have none of that, please.”
Both sisters stared in abject horror at the interloper. He was short and squat. His coat was blue, his mane was so deep a shade as to be almost black (but a shade of what color?), and his eyes were metallic and icy. Most importantly, however, was the fact that he had a pair of wings on his back. The two sisters turned on a dime and took off, but a sharp clearing of the stallion’s throat brought them up short, as though running to the end of a tether. He walked slowly toward them, examining them minutely.
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled, his eyes softening. “Good afternoon,” he said, doffing his hat.
The dark blue alicorn hid under one of her elder sister's wings. The stallion merely smiled politely. “Hello, Lulu,” he said. “Hello, Celly,”
The young mare poked her head out and gave him a look. “How dost thou knoweth our names?” she demanded.
“Ah. Well, we’ve met before, you know. Although, I get the feeling you mayn’t rrremember that just yet…”
Celestia blinked. “What?” she asked, confused.
“...Never mind. That’s a conversation for a later date. Or," he looked up at the sky, scratching his chin meditatively. "Or perhaps earlier, now that I think of it.”
“Thou speaketh in riddles, good sir,” Celestia said, “And I believe thou hath th’ advantage of us.”
“Have I?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I suppose I do. Call me the Doctor, then.”
“That is no sort of name!” Celestia argued.
“Professor, then,” the stranger replied.
“That’s no better,” Celestia retorted, but the stallion’s attention had already drifted.
He looked at Luna and tutted. “You really must practice better hygiene. One should always remember to wash behind the ears,”
As fast as lightning, he reached behind her left ear and produced a bouquet of flowers. Luna shrunk back, but hesitated when the strange pegasus held out the bouquet invitingly. Cautiously, she reached forward for a bite, but Celestia knocked the flowers away. “We take not food from strangers,” she said coldly.
The Doctor nodded amiably. “Very wise,” he said, though when he glanced down at the flowers for a brief moment, his forehead was lined and sad.
Luna frowned in consternation. “He ain't stranger than the Chancellor,” she reasoned, “An’ we take food from him all the time!”
Celestia took Luna firmly by the tail and dragged her onwards. The pegasus made no move to stop them, but watched them go with a thoughtful expression on his face.
***
“Why did we have to leave, Celly?” Luna whined. “He was nice!”
Celestia snorted. “Thou sayeth th’ same thing about many of the townsfolk. Just because thou think one attractive does not make them nice.”
Luna made a mildly disgusted face. “He’s not ‘an’some. He’s old! He reminded me o’ th’ Chancellor.”
Celestia rolled her eyes. “Because he tried to give you a treat? Really Luna, thou shouldst know better by now. Courting colts will bring naught but trouble.”
“I court not anypony!” Luna replied indignantly. “Tis just— he seemed— odd.”
“On that we can agree.”
They fell into an uncomfortable silence, Celestia worrying about what the strange pegasus might mean for them, and Luna worrying about her sister.
***
The Doctor stared after the two mares for some time after they had gone. “Interesting,” they murmured. “Yes, and very suggestive. Their presence here, I wonder if it's time…”
They trailed off awkwardly, as though expecting some other pony to chime in. When nopony did so, they deflated and sighed dejectedly. “Probably for the best, really,” they mused aloud. “Ace would have hated this place. Too much sunshine. Not enough explosions.”
A cold wind ruffled the back of their neck, and they frowned. “Well. Too much sunshine for now, at least.”
They headed back the way the alicorns had come from at a fast trot. Things were moving rather faster than they had anticipated…