//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: Sing Me Your Love Song // Story: The Folly Of Princesses // by Steel Resolve //------------------------------// Celestia waited until Pinkie had gone home and Twilight had gone to bed before she began her investigation. To plan, you needed intelligence, and her network was currently beyond her reach. It was not a role she was unfamiliar with, however. Celestia was a pony that constantly gathered information from all available sources, and while she was limited to her own senses, they were the easiest to access anyway. She crept down the stairs, hesitating for a moment to turn on the light before she remembered that it was only Twilight and herself in the library. Caution was certainly warranted, but not to the point of risking injury. What exactly are you doing now? Astra asked, sounding pointedly tired - something Celestia hadn’t thought her capable of. “Sneaking?” Celestia offered with a whisper. May I ask why? You’re the only conscious one in the library. As long as you don’t start stomping around or sing an opera you should be fine. Celestia frowned, but had to admit Astra was right. All the sneaking did was make the spying seem a little more fun. “Fine,” she said, adding “Spoilsport,” in an undertone. What is it you hope to find in Twilight’s lab? “Well, I had hoped for more details on her date plans...” You’ve seen them, I have them here! Celestia sighed, pausing mid-step to give Astra her full attention. “Yes, that’s nice for you, but as much as I would like to, I don’t have the ability to read my own memory like a card catalogue.” Actually, it’s more like the moving pictures they’ve begun showing in the cinemas. Although it is all neatly within volumes you’d recognize as looking a bit like encyclopedias. The older memories are brittle and harder to make out, a bit like microfiche, though some seem to be very durable— “As fascinating as it is to hear how a mental construct of my own mind views my memories, it’s not terribly helpful. I need to actually view her plans again to consider my own.” Celestia said testily. Well fine, do it the hard way. Astra replied, sounding a little disappointed for reasons that Celestia could not immediately discern. “I will, but I do appreciate your attempts to help,” Celestia replied in a more genial tone. Yes, well... at least now you appreciate the effort, Astra replied, sounding somewhat mollified. And it’s nice to see you taking action, even if I still think you should do something much more direct. “I think it will be more beneficial for all concerned if I simply try to support Twilight’s efforts as opposed to subverting them,” Celestia said as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “Besides, I’m really looking forward to hearing Pinkie gush about their evening afterwards.” She is especially adorable when she gushes... Astra replied, sounding incredibly conflicted. Fine, fine. I withhold my objections yet again. Celestia wisely did not reply, instead trotting lightly to the chalkboard and flipping it around to the opposite side. What she found made her confused for a moment, then more than a little upset. Oh, dear. It was a rare thing to see a pristine chalkboard in the abode of a scientist. At the very least you would find a fine layer of chalk dust from the resulting erasure, but this board looked almost newly made. Celestia eyed it carefully, but could not even find lines as one would see from the use of a squeegee, or the telltale swirls of a polishing cloth. Twilight had clearly put some effort into removing all trace of what had been on this side of the board. That’s a lot blanker than you remember it being. “I’m well aware,” Celestia said through gritted teeth. Did you want some help now? “I’m not sure how you could, exactly.” There was a pause, followed by what sounded like the pages of a book flipping inside of her head. Goodness, you’ve learned a lot of spells in your time. I think I found the relevant one, however. You’ll need to cast ‘Sonny’s Projection’. Celestia considered that for a long moment, frowning. “That’s for displaying memories, but you need to have one in mind, I’m not sure how—” I have all of your memories right here at my hooftips, more or less. You provide the projection, I’ll provide the memory, and then you can see what Twilight was up to. “Hmmm,” Celestia murmured noncommittally. She’d just discovered an odd benefit to Astra that she’d never even considered. The idea that Astra had access to her memories and could see and hear everything Celestia herself did (provided she was paying attention or was not directly shut out by Celestia’s magic) had been disturbing when she was viewed as a non-friendly entity. But a friend who could, at least in theory, grant her what amounted to a photographic memory... that posed all sorts of potential. She lit up her horn, keeping her mind blank of any immediate memories as she cast the spell, then smiled as an image of various branching paths of choices and calculations of their odds of success was projected onto the blank chalkboard. I think she’s got the right idea with roses, though pink roses would go over better than red, don’t you think? “Red is more for romantic intentions...” Celestia replied as she studied the still image in her projection. Yes, but pink conveys so many emotions that apply; joy, admiration, and sweetness, for example. And besides, this is the mare who hugged the life out of you because you told her your coat was a shade of pink. You need to know your audience. Celestia nodded, making a mental note to contact the flower stand and get them to change the roses to pink. You know, looking at this, she must have been taking notes directly from some guidebook or other. I mean, for a normal mare, this would be fine, and I think Pinkie would enjoy it for Twilight’s sake... But it doesn’t feel very tailored to her, does it? “Twilight is doing her very best, I am sure...” Oh, I am as well. She probably read every relationship guide and had a few more shipped from Canterlot. But she’s right to think some of this won’t be very fun for Pinkie. Pinkie will make it fun, but that’s going to be a lot of effort on her part for some of this. Frowning, Celestia looked over the whole of the projection as it was overlaid with the clean chalkboard. Astra had a point. The events as laid out represented a perfectly romantic evening, culminating in a night spent in what amounted to Ponyville’s best hotel (with all of the construction workers working to fix the town, hotels had sprung up in several locations to meet the need) but none of it seemed very Pinkie Pie, nor did any of it scream Twilight. Short of entirely subverting it, Celestia didn’t see how to salvage any of it. Which wasn’t to say it would be a horrible night for either, but it wasn’t the sort of time Pinkie seemed to be wanting for that mystical third date she’d been envisioning. Not much to work with here, is there? “No... and that’s the frustrating part. All of this is perfectly fine, but none of it seems like them at all. Flowers are a nice gesture, more so if we get them in pink as you said, but she has them going to a restaurant that I don’t think either of them will enjoy.” Celestia could understand why Twilight had picked it, at least. Chateau Jolie was one of the most highly regarded restaurants in Canterlot. But it was a bad choice because neither Pinkie nor Twilight would find the foods they enjoyed there. Celestia had tried to introduce a bit of variety to their diets, reasoning that if she was going to publicly acknowledge the pair she would likely want to present them during the occasional event or dinner, but had been largely unsuccessful. She blamed her own cooking, as she herself had tasted many a delicacy but her ability to recreate such dishes was lacking. She had enthusiasm for cooking, but no real practice, having been shamed out of her own castle’s kitchens by well-meaning staff who rightfully pointed out that she was paying them to do a job and not allowing them to do it did both she and them a disservice. Pinkie had far more skill, being that she’d made a profession of it, but her interests were strictly the cakes, pies, and cupcakes that she was used to, and relatively simple ‘home style’ dishes, mostly involving eggs cheeses and starches. Asking her to make something more complicated was sure to result in something was almost, but not quite, entirely unlike anything you’d ever envisioned. It was usually a fun time, at least. Twilight’s tastes were even more simple. If left to her own devices she’d likely eat nothing but sandwiches and salads, assuming she remembered to eat at all. She viewed cooking like a science, which tended to result in dishes that were rather bland. Despite her limited views on food, she clearly understood what a good restaurant was supposed to be in theory, but in practice it made more sense to simply go to a place that served food you would like. “The hotel is likewise nice, but neither of them will feel at home in it...” Celestia trailed off, a deep set frown on her face. “Pinkie’s been so very patient, she deserves better.” My option is always available… Celestia snorted and waved a hoof dismissively. “I can’t justify joining them into a trio with myself before they’ve properly become a couple. Twilight needs the confidence this success will bring her. Pinkie needs the closeness she’s been craving but never quite achieved. They don’t need me interfering in that.” Does it really matter if the end result is the same? “It matters,” Celestia said firmly. “It matters to Pinkie, and Twilight.” And to you, it seems. “Of course it matters to me. But I’m the least important in the overall equation.” I don’t think either of them would agree with that valuation, and I’m hardly an unbiased party. But fine. You want things to go well for them, but it’s clear the path Twilight has laid out will be at best mildly disappointing if everything goes perfectly. What can you do? You could have subtly changed a few things on her board, asked for different flowers, used your name and connections to get them better rooms, but here is a literal blank slate. What now? Celestia stared at the projection for a moment longer, then allowed the spell to end. “If I can’t change the plan, I’ll just have to talk to the planner, and get her to come up with a better one.” Astra snorted in derision. You have a literal blank slate here. If you’re going to go to the trouble of tipping your hoof that far, why not go further and draw out a presentation with graphs and diagrams? You can show her in the morning. “That wouldn’t be her plan at all,” Celestia protested. Now you’re just equivocating. Astra replied. You can’t have it both ways. You either take the reins, or you allow her to win or lose on her own. Celestia frowned for a moment before allowing her face to relax. Astra, despite her rudeness, was right. Celestia had to be very careful in her meddling. “I have to remember, despite having my memories, and some of my less desirable traits... You’re not me, and that means you’ve never taught before.” And that means? “That means there is a third option. I won’t plan it for her, and I won’t let her flounder on her own. I’ll simply ask her to try again, and try to explain where I think she went wrong. The final answer has to be hers, or she won’t learn anything.” Twilight woke up with a start as she felt her bed shift with a sudden impact. She blinked in the darkness, though as her eyes adjusted she recognized that the light of false dawn was coming through her window, casting her bedroom in an eerie light. Looking around, she spotted a larger than average pony shape. It smiled at her, and suddenly the room was filled with the gentle glow of illumination coming from the pony’s coat. “Oh good, I thought I would have to shake you awake,” the pony said, scooting closer to Twilight on the bed. “Mmmmwha?” Twilight managed to say, followed by a jaw-cracking yawn. "Good morning, Twilight. I'm meddling. Wipe the sleep out of your eyes, you’re going to plan a date for you and Pinkie." Twilight blinked, then blinked again. She wasn’t entirely certain what time it was, beyond the simple fact that the sun was not up yet and that she was certain she’d gone to bed well after midnight. Those two variables assured her that whatever amount of sleep she’d gotten, it had definitely not been enough. “Princess Celestia?” she said, not entirely sure if she was even right about that. Another moment passed before she added: "I... I already made plans—" "I know, I saw, they'd be perfect for anypony else. You're starting over. Drink this." The glowing pony who was probably Princess Celestia, proffered a thermos to Twilight, who stared at it for a long moment, uncertain what to do with it. The lid turned in the gentle golden glow of Celestia’s magic, and what emerged was a scent that was assuredly divine in nature. Twilight took the thermos in her hooves, tilting the lip of the container towards her mouth, and was rewarded with a rush of heat and sweetness, with the barest hint of a bitter undertone all but hidden by a rich cream. The caffeine lit up various dormant parts of her brain, even the smell shredding the cobwebs from her mind. She blinked again, using a whisk of magic to wipe away the aforementioned sleep crusts from the edges of her eyes. While she wasn’t quite awake enough to be properly panicked about it, her slowly awakening mind informed her that she likely had bed mane, that the Princess was patiently waiting for a response of some kind, and as a quick finale, that she’d once again disobeyed the Princess’s wishes to be called by her name and not her title. Twilight decided to ignore all of that for the time being, instead focusing on what Celestia had said in response to her assertion of having made plans already. She frowned, and took another long sip of coffee, and said: "My plans should be fine. Every book said that it would be the perfect romantic night for two average ponies. Granted it didn’t specify gender but the age range was correct and all of the demographics—" “Twilight.” “I even accounted for the Venn crossovers of general interests shared by unicorns and earth ponies—” “Twilight.” “And the chart says—” “Twilight!” Celestia said in a voice that demanded Twilight’s attention. Twilight blinked again, closing her mouth. She looked at the thermos, opened her mouth again, and filled it with the salvation within. “I’m certain you made every effort to ensure a statistically perfect date, Twilight. But neither of you match anything I would call average.” Celestia said from somewhere outside of the confines of the thermos. Twilight would have been upset by this, but couldn’t quite muster up a proper response to her teacher and longtime crush waking her up well before the sun had arisen to tell her that her plans for the all-important third date with Pinkie Pie weren’t good enough. That was entirely ignoring how the Princess even knew about said plans, when Twilight had painstakingly removed any written record of them that could have been found outside of spaces she’d prepared that strictly speaking existed outside of this particular plane of existence. While the Princess assuredly knew such spells herself, the whole point of creating such a storage space with magic was that it was only accessible to the caster themselves, or the one it had been created for. She did not question this because the Princess had been making the impossible mundane for far longer than Twilight could properly conceive of in the sleep deprived state she was in. Truthfully, Twilight at that moment in time could not conceive of many lengths of time beyond how many more hours she wished to lay her head back to her pillow. “All right,” Twilight said with a yawn. “Let’s do this.” She slowly got up out of bed, feeling every ache and protest in her body, stopping only for a moment to finish off the contents of the thermos. The Princess got up from the bed as well, actually hopping down like a filly would from a stool that was too tall for her. Twilight blinked once more. She wasn’t used to seeing the Princess act excited, or... cute. It was very odd to see anything that the very pinnacle of pony poise and posture was doing as being adorable. Her half-conscious mind boggled at it while she followed the Princess down the stairs, then had to contend with the fact that the Princess was prancing in barely suppressed glee. While they made their way to the lab, Celestia produced another thermos and did something else Twilight was not prepared to contend with: the Princess was babbling. “I’m really sorry to have woken you out of a sound sleep like this but for some reason I get my very best ideas at around four in the morning. I usually just jot them down but tonight after trying and failing to get to sleep more times than I care to admit I decided it would be best to just jump on this particular problem headlong because I know it’s been bothering you. Even Pinkie has been picking up on it and she has such terrible trouble reading your moods at times, the poor dear—” Twilight paused at the top of the stairs leading to her lab, opening up the new thermos and pouring more coffee into her otherwise empty and protesting tummy. She’d learned some new things about her mentor in a very short time. She’d also learned that it was likely just barely past four in the morning. Watching the Princess bound happily downstairs, she accepted the fact that she was unlikely to get any more sleep that morning. Despite that, she smiled. If this resulted in making Pinkie happy, she was happy to sacrifice a night’s sleep for it. “Fleur... I... I’m sorry,” Luna said at last. “I did not intend to allow these feelings within myself. I wished to... keep things simple, between us.” “I’m going to assume there is a change you wish to tell me about at some point,” Fleur prompted, looking even more amused. Luna frowned at Fleur, a snorted exhalation blowing her ethereal mane away from her eyes. “I was getting to that, yes...” Fleur tittered into the hoof that was not clasped together with Luna’s own. “Forgive me, ma petite. Please, do go on.” Luna looked sidelong at Fleur, raising a single eyebrow at her in an expression meant to convey all of her frustration and anger. She did not, however, allow her hoof to drop from Fleur’s own. “You...” she began, pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts. “You infuriate me. Not even my own sister has dared as you have. I feel drawn to you like a moth to a flame, and you constantly burn me for my trouble, yet I seek more. For I so desire that warmth, that light that you shed.” Fleur’s eyes became rounder, and she actually blushed, which was practically unseen in their interactions. “This is... some poem you wrote? To her, yes? You’re quite talented.” Luna frowned and shook her head. “I’m being serious, Fleur.” “Oh, most serious. I can tell. Go on, sing me your love song.” “I didn’t want to love you, Fleur De Lis!” Luna said in a sudden fit of anger. She continued in a softer voice: “I wanted our playful and somewhat antagonistic friendship to go on for as long as you wished to have me as a playmate. But... I could not ignore your feelings forever. Despite myself, despite everything telling me how very bad it would be for both of us, I found myself returning them. And now, here we are.” Luna shrugged helplessly, her wings fluttering briefly as she did so. “I am at a loss. I want to tell the kingdom that I have found you, but...” “But I was already found,” Fleur said, nodding. “Scandalous. It would assuredly nettle many.” “That’s precisely my fear—” Luna began before Fleur rushed forward in a sudden kiss. “You should do it,” Fleur said with a smile. “If you wish to acknowledge our little ménage à trois, do not let the words of old mares and foolish stallions dissuade you.” “But Fancy’s reputation—” “Will only grow from this,” Fleur supplied. “To be graced with the Princess’ presence... Stallions and many, many mares will envy him, and want to be him.” Fleur purred as she languidly traced little circles on Luna’s hoof with her own free one. “But... he is not you... That is, I don’t know if I feel for him as I do for you, Fleur. I had intended for you and I...” Luna said, feeling the situation rapidly escaping her control. “But he is still a paramour, non?” Fleur snuggled closely, her voice dropping to a breathy whisper. “You have taken him as a lover, and he is dear to you as a friend as well. That is how we started, non? Simply take us both as your own, and nopony would ever think less of him.” Luna’s eyes opened wide suddenly, for the thought of simply taking them both had not seriously occurred until Fleur suggested it. “May... May I simply do so? He is your husband, Fleur...” “Fancy is mine, ma petite. But you may absolutely take him.” Fleur replied, kissing Luna lightly on the cheek. “If it troubles you, you could, of course, ask him before you take him, but he likes to do things that make me happy. Also, he likes you very, very much. I think of all our guests you’ve always been his favorite.” Princess Luna considered Fleur’s words, finding they appealed to the mare who wore the crown, but also having to consider whether it was also the right decision for the crown itself. “He may say no, Fleur. He said he was uncertain about joining a royal harem.” These words seemed to electrify Fleur, her grin became something that would have perhaps made Pinkie herself envious, though the look in her eyes spoke of something far less playful and more predatory. It was much like a cat having spotted a wounded bird debating whether to toy with it before the kill. “Do you wish to have a harem?” Luna blushed furiously “I... That is... We had not intended—” “Because I will recruit for you a harem of the most comely mares and stallions!” Fleur said in a rush, looking positivity ecstatic to even have it suggested. “I know my model friends would jump at the very chance—” “No!” Luna all but screamed. “No, don’t do that!” Fleur’s smile remained just as manic, and she asked: “So then, Fancy and I will be enough?” Luna hesitated for the barest moment. “Y-yes! That is... perhaps two more, if events progress in that direction...” she trailed off, uncertain of how to explain. Fleur looked at her curiously, then nodded. “Ah, Rarity and her Butterfly. I understand. I promise I will not be jealous so long as you invite them by some night. Est-ce d'accord?” “I cannot promise that. I do not know if we’ll ever be more than friends. I am very happy we remain that much.” Luna admitted, feeling a little sad even as she said it. Being forgiven by others did not easily translate to forgiving one’s self, however well-intentioned her actions had been at the time. Her ears flattened as she recalled Fluttershy rebuffing her for being so careless with Rarity’s safety and then failing to explain the danger as a further crime. Good intentions would not have consoled a widow. Luna, having been one, knew that well. “Well, if you only remain friends, I would still ask that you invite them. We’ll simply have a different sort of celebration, and be no worse off for it.” Fleur said, nuzzling Luna’s cheek. “Do not fret, pursue them as you wish.” Luna nodded dumbly, letting herself be comforted. She was uncertain how this particular conversation was going to go in the waking world, but was pleased with how well it had gone in her dream. That was to say nothing of the conversation to come between her and Fancy. Fleur’s assurances aside, Luna misliked the idea of Fleur simply volunteering Fancy for such a thing. Granted, Fancy never seemed to mind being included, but it was the principle of the thing. Fleur’s assurances were helping Luna sort through her own feelings about Fancy, at least. She did not have to have the same depth of feeling about Fancy as she did about Fleur, but so long as he agreed, she was comfortable claiming them both as her— Not harem, not spouses, not marefriend and coltfriend... What shall I call them? I don’t wish to bind myself to the common vows... They’ve already pledged to one another, I need no such pledges to me... Not to mention if I ask it of them others might get the idea to pledge themselves unasked, and I do not wish to be worshiped as some sort of fertility goddess once again. She shook her head, using the motion to nuzzle into Fleur’s mane, eliciting an appreciative murmur from her. There would be time to decide the title for what they would be to her later. “What is in your head, ma petite?” Fleur asked as she settled into a proper cuddle. Luna didn’t answer right away, choosing to wrap both wings around Fleur and draw her close instead. “Nothing of serious importance,” she said at length. “Unless you’d like to suggest a title you’d like.” Fleur giggled from beneath Luna’s wing. “Is Queen taken?” Luna laughed appreciatively. “The last pony in Equestria to bear that title died many centuries ago. It was not even called Equestria then. No, Fleur, important as you are to me, I cannot raise you up beyond myself.” “Pity,” Fleur replied, not actually sounding very disappointed. “May I at least have some shiny gowns made to match yours?” “If you wish,” Luna said judiciously. “I’ll have Rarity make you a complimentary wardrobe.” “I would like to be shod as you are, is that permissible?” “Oh?” Luna asked, and playfully retorted, “So you would not steal mine any longer?” A memory of a languid morning after a visit played in Luna’s mind, Fleur greeting her as she awoke by prancing about in Luna’s discarded ebon regalia. Fleur pouted, replying: “I like yours. They are comfortable,” she sighed dramatically. “Fine, the dresses only.” Luna began picturing the two of them together, side by side during some dreary Gala and laughing at the antics of the crowd. She blinked as she realized that the image was quite literally forming in the air in front of her. “Hmmm. We make a pair together, do we not?” Fleur said as she followed Luna’s gaze with her own. “We do,” Luna replied. “I think... if you were to ask for me alone, I might consider for a very long time,” Fleur said as if she’d given the matter serious thought in the past. “I would lose all sleep, and feel no joy. It would destroy me; for though my heart is his, I adore you, ma petite.” Luna’s mouth hung open, and she hurriedly added Fancy to the scene, dressed in complementary colors to their gowns. He kissed Fleur with a little smile. “I would never, ever wish you to leave him, Fleur!” “I know,” Fleur said in a voice that sounded very self-satisfied. “I am glad for it, because my heart would feel ripped and torn. I feel doubly blessed to have two such ponies care for it.” Luna reflected on Fleur’s words, and realized that though he was not as dear to her as Fleur was, there was one thing she could easily love about him, and that was that he kept Fleur happy. It was not a passionate feeling, raising no great heat in her like thoughts of Fleur did, but it was a start of a feeling beyond simple companionship. He’d been a friend, and a lover, but gazing at her imagined scene, it felt more complete. Fleur looked happier to have them both. And in the end, what did she want but for the pony she loved to be happy? From somewhere in the distance, she could hear Night Blossom’s voice call out. “Princess, there’s a very polite stallion at the door. Shall I see him in?” “You don’t think you can just get away with this, do you?” Midnight Oil took off his glasses, simultaneously polishing them and massaging the bridge of his nose in his magic. “I’m uncertain what exactly I’m meant to be getting away with, Mr. Press Pass.” The aforementioned stallion gestured around his relatively posh surroundings as if it were a torture chamber. “This! All of this! You can’t just keep me here! I’m a well-known reporter! There are plenty of ponies who will start asking after me.” Midnight replaced his glasses, and gave the reporter a long look. He wasn’t much to look at, being a relatively short-statured unicorn with a white coat and mane of turquoise. He’d be totally unremarkable if not for the splotches of black around his hooves, making Midnight wonder if it was due to mottling in his coat or if it was actually stained with ink. His cutie mark was a pen clashing with a sword, which spoke volumes both about his possible mindset, as well as what Midnight could expect from this conversation. “You really have little to complain about,” Midnight replied. “By all rights, you should have been thrown into a place far less comfortable than this suite.” “But I didn’t do anything wrong!” Press Pass insisted for the tenth time since Midnight had arrived. “So you keep saying. Yet here we are, and here we’ll stay until we come to an understanding.” Midnight let a beat pass, then added, “Or rather, here you’ll stay. And to be frank, I personally don’t much like the idea of what might happen to you if we don’t.” “You just can’t threaten me!” Press Pass sputtered indignantly. “You misunderstand me,” Midnight replied, leaning forward slightly in a manner meant to convey the gravity of the situation. “I’m not threatening you. To be perfectly honest with you; I think all of this is blown way out of proportion. You were just trying to find a story. Doing your job. The problem lies in the way you went about it, and what you stumbled on to. Trust me when I say that I’d much rather you just forget about what you saw, and allow us to destroy any pictures you might have taken. You could be on your merry way in a matter of minutes. It is because you insist on being obstinate that we are in this situation. If you continue to be so, I will be obligated to have Princess Luna notified about what you were doing in an official capacity and... well...” He leaned back and sighed deeply. “I’m sure you’re aware she is rather more... forceful than Princess Celestia would be.” Press Pass looked like he very much understood what Midnight was hinting at, his eyes shrinking down to pinpricks while his next words were more of a shriek than anything. “Every citizen has a right to a fair trial! I’m due a trial!” Midnight’s eyebrows rose, and he nodded judiciously. “Indeed you are. If you wish it, I could act as an arbitrator and sentence you right here, with your fine host Mr. Skies as my witness.” He nodded to Blue Skies, the equally unremarkable-looking pegasus with a cream colored coat and an orange mane. All of Celestia’s spies had that same uncanny trait of being able to blend into any crowd or environment they happened to be in, becoming nearly part of the landscape. Their other talents ranged all over the spectrum (Mr. Skies’ cutie mark being evidently related to birdsong) as nopony was born with the skill set necessary to be a talented spy, requiring vigorous training instead. Midnight imagined this one might involve the birds in his information gathering. It would make his message that a little bird had told him to watch out for a press pony snooping around the estate of Fancy Pants a tad more literal. Press Pass smiled triumphantly, crowing “Good! Let’s do it, then!” “Before you make such a bold request... Mr. Pass...” Midnight said quietly. “Perhaps you’d like to know what you’re being charged with first? Mr. Skies, if you would, please.” “One count of crimes against the Land, which includes stalking of a vital government official. Multiple counts of Trespassing on private property. At least two counts of Espionage, and High Treason.” Blue Skies intoned flatly behind the reporter. The presspony’s face fell as he repeated: “T-treason?!” Midnight nodded. “As I said; a bit of an overreaction. The laws that deal with what one can and cannot do around Celestia and Luna’s personages are a lot harsher and more in-depth than you would believe, and have only gotten harsher due to recent events.” “Treason...” Press Pass repeated, apparently not believing his own words. “Suffice to say, your accommodations would get far, far worse, and you could be there a very long time. However, in all likelihood that might be preferable to what Princess Luna might deem a just punishment. She gets a little annoyed with bad press, as again, I’m sure you’re aware. And while I’ve thus far been able to convince her she can’t punish you and your peers for doing your jobs... spying on her can actually be considered a crime, and a severe crime at that.” Midnight stood, reaching over to pat Press Pass on the shoulder, from which the presspony flinched away as if the touch burned. “Well, we’ll give you another day to mull over your options. I’ll have dinner sent along for you and Mr. Skies.” He left the room without waiting for a reply, though the stunned silence was certainly enough for Midnight to know further discussion was not going to be forthcoming. He nodded to the guards as he closed the door, instructing them to send a request for two dinners, and after a moment’s consideration, two more for the guards. His escorts fell into step behind him without needing a word of instruction. He had grown somewhat used to their shadowing, though their necessity was still questionable to him. As much as he was supposed to be Celestia’s Voice in her absence, he was still but a dedicated civil servant, and hardly warranted the sort of security he was being given. Trying to argue the point was futile, however. The upper echelons of the guard would not hear of not posting at least a small detail to him at all times, reasoning that with Celestia recovering and Luna having an annoying tendency to refuse guards when she was going out, he was the primary target for any hostiles. It just further demonstrated how very dependent they were as a society on the presences of the Princesses. They were both the reason why Equestrian society was as it was and the glaring weak point in the entire structure. Which was the reasoning behind such harsh punishment for doing what the poor Mr. Press Pass had done. Any other famous pony would have been fair game, and quite the story for him. But to stalk one of the linchpins of society more or less was declaring yourself an enemy of the land, on a level with the changelings or Discord. His own appointment had been a fine temporary solution, but there were simply no measures in place for what happened when one or both of them disappeared. The lower courts were a start, but— “Your Excellency, we’ve arrived at your quarters.” Midnight winced as he heard the title. It was another odd fact of his life now, and his repeated attempts to get the guard to use his name had failed, at least while they were on duty. After being relieved he had shared a drink or two with his guards and found them quite amiable, but before then it was all discipline and stoicism. He nodded, opening the door and stepping inside. “Well then, good night. Make sure to get word to me when the Princess returns.” They turned away, facing outward from the door in their normal guarding positions. It made his feet hurt to just imagine standing at attention for hours on end. His magic was fetching the bottle of willow bark pills even as he entered his office, a glass of water floating along behind it. Confronting Press Pass had been stressful, but he believed his point had been delivered and that hopefully the presspony would see reason rather than draw matters out. He cast a yearning look at the bedroom that adjoined his office, then resolutely sat down at his desk. There were reports to look over, a treaty proposal sent by Chineigh, and projected cost analyses of trade goods from that region for the coming year, all of which needed reviewing before the coming morning. No rest for the weary, he thought as he picked up the first of many documents. Pinkie Pie’s eyes opened to see an alligator clamped onto her forelock. She smiled, blinking in the early morning sunlight as she picked him up in both hooves and hugged him tightly to her chest. “Good morning, Gummy!” Gummy responded by slowly releasing his lockjaw hold on her mane and looking into her eyes. He opened his mouth once more, snapping it shut on the open air a hair’s breadth away from her nose. “Hungry, huh? Me too. Let’s get something to eat.” Pinkie said as she got up, briefly twirling him around in a little dance before setting him back down. The morning was promising to be a good one already. She only had to cover the morning shift for the Cakes today, which left her afternoon and evening free to spend with Twilight and Celly. She looked at the calendar and was just a little sad that today normally would have been the Pet Play Date with the girls, and hoped Fluttershy and Rarity were still having fun in Prance. Dashie and Applejack were supposed to come back from Las Pegasus in a few days, at least. That would be good. It always made her just a little anxious when they were separated, which was why Pinkie so readily understood Twilight mentioning it, even if she suspected at the time it wasn’t all she was worried about. When one of them was gone, it made her worry that someday, maybe it would just be for good. Rarity and Dashie both had big dreams that would take them far away, and maybe they would choose to stay nearer to those dreams when they came true. She thought maybe Fluttershy and Applejack might make them want to stay, but with that came worries that her friends might be unhappy because they were tied down to their little town. Pinkie could definitely understand wanting to visit big places and meet new ponies, but from the moment she’d arrived at Ponyville it had felt more like home than home ever had. Making friends with every pony in town had been her big dream, and it had seemed plenty big after only ever knowing her family. She’d, of course, thought about the even bigger dream of befriending a whole great big city like Canterlot or Manehatten, but it was a task that daunted even her. Just keeping track of all the birthdays would strain the limits of her filing system. A snapping toothless maw clamping on her tail brought her back to the moment and away from thoughts about a Partyputer, although she tucked the idea away as something to talk to Twilight about. She knew the thing in Twilight’s basement was big and clunky but Twilight had said it kept track of all kinds of things and the punch cards seemed like they might take up less space than the big folders she’d made for everypony she’d ever met. She poured Gummy a big bowl of food, then poured herself a bigger bowl of cereal. While she ate, she looked at the calendar again. A few days from the Play Date was a very special day. It didn’t look like much next to all the other days on the calendar. Usually Thursdays aren’t special for much except being the start of the second half of the week and for not quite being Friday. But this one marked a sort of anniversary, except it hadn’t been a year, or even a half-year. It was more of a Quarterversary, really. Maybe it wasn’t much to some ponies, but three months seemed like a long time to Pinkie. That was how long it had been since their Breakup/Makeup; the day she’d decided to break Twilight’s heart so she could try to catch it in her hooves again. Pinkie smiled a smile other ponies never usually saw. It wasn’t a smile you wore around town to greet your neighbors with. It was a little sad, but also hopeful. It hadn’t existed until the day she’d gotten on a great big noisy train headed to a town very far from her family’s home. She’d made it up just after she’d lost sight of her family. She didn’t use it often, since she preferred the brighter happier ones to wear for others. This smile was just for her, and maybe one or two ponies she trusted to see it. And Gummy, of course, but Gummy never minded what smile she wore. He could see through any of them. Being one of her oldest smiles, it wasn’t numbered. It was a smile for going away from something you loved while going towards something that excited you. She didn’t encounter that specific situation very often, but it fit here. She had loved the casual closeness and fun she and Twilight had shared at first, but rejected it in favor of wanting Twilight’s heart instead. And it had proved itself to be a slippery, skittish thing. Twilight’s heart had been scared. It hid, and ran when it saw trouble. It was a heart that had been hurt before, and didn’t want to ever hurt again. Trying to chase it had lead Pinkie to some exciting places. But she was pretty sure she had it calmed down a little, now. Enough that maybe... maybe Twi would show it to her. The Quarterversary was when it was maybe going to happen, finally. The prospect made Pinkie herself feel nervous and skittish and excited and all sorts of things. It was when Twi had said she wanted to have their third date after the Breakup/Makeup. Gummy crawled up into the circle made by her arms as she ate, and she hugged him close to her chest with a little squeal. “It’s going to be so nice! Right, Gummy?” Gummy offered no opinion on whether it would be nice or not. He opened his mouth slowly, blinking first his left eye, then his right. “Yeah! It’ll all be okay! I’m a silly Pinkie after all!” His right eye rolled around before centering on her again. “Oh, right! Breakfast!”