//------------------------------// // Chapter 10: Meetings Of Sun And Moon // Story: The Folly Of Princesses // by Steel Resolve //------------------------------// Luna breathed a deep sigh while closing the gate to her garden.  Figments, she thought wryly.  As useful as they were for helping to police the dreamscape, they had become rather more rebellious than she was willing to allow. That one, in particular, would need a firm hoof, as it was responsible for one of the most important ponies she had in her life.  Misbehaving Figments aside, Celestia’s dream posed the most questions on her mind. They had talked at length after her return, and while Celestia had filled her in on many events she’d missed, she had never heard mention of Celestia ever taking on an army by herself. Much less multiple armies. Battle had always been a point of contention between the two sisters. Luna had ever been the one urging them to the front lines, whereas her sister had preferred the tactician's tent, moving regiments around like her chess pieces. Certainly, her sister was capable of battle, it was not cowardice that stayed her hoof. She simply did not view it in the same way Luna did. For Luna, a battle was expedience. Overwhelming force had worked on the griffons and yaks, after all. But then Sombra’s armies had challenged that philosophy. An army of enslaved ponies did not fear death. Many seemed grateful for it. She recalled many arguments in those selfsame tactician’s tents. Celestia had been ever the one pointing out weak points in supply lines and defensive structures while Luna proposed direct strikes to the main force to drive them off. Celestia’s plans had an annoying habit of working out, ending the conflict as the opposing force left the battlefield rather than continue to fight on empty bellies. Even a brainwashed pony required food. Her sister was a wise and thoughtful pony, yet no less brave for that caution. However, when confronted with odds out of her favor, Celestia chose to retreat over a desperate stand. That knowledge was something the Nightmare inside of her had used to great advantage when at last she’d gone completely mad and had decided to slay her sister. She had to grudgingly admit, in that specific circumstance her sister’s instincts had served her well, as the best outcome of fighting the Nightmare would have been that Luna herself was injured or slain. Though it led to a long incarceration, she was grateful to have not been the victor of that battle. Figment had mentioned that her sister drew a lot of attention from the dreamscape... That in itself was hardly unexpected, though the news was unwelcome. Luna had witnessed firsthoof as she had taken up her mantle after her return; her realm had experienced a backlash of negative energy that had resulted in countless nightmares. Those nightmares had been born of the rage of Nightmare Moon as she had been banished, imprinted with hate of Celestia. And while Luna had destroyed many of them, apparently many more remained. Luna frowned thoughtfully as she considered the battle she’d seen Celestia face once more. Nightmares came in all shapes and sizes, and were not necessarily an unhealthy thing. Indeed, such a scene might have been a wonderful time for one such as Luna. Celestia... did not experience the same rush of excitement that Luna did when fighting. Confronted with endless opposition, her sister may well have chosen retreat from dreaming itself as the most logical recourse. And yet, the mere idea of doing such a thing boggled Luna’s mind. Dreams were vital to a pony’s health. They helped a pony’s mind stay sane, helped the body rest, and were quite enjoyable, under the right circumstances. She could only conjecture at what would happen to a pony who had not allowed herself to dream in so long. She resolved to send Figment a regiment of its kin to aid in guarding her sister in the future. If Celestia was beset by armies, she would have armies of her own. Perhaps she would enjoy plotting out their movements in her little tent. “Well, that was something,” Luna said with a breathy exhalation.  “It was,” Celestia said, simply. She had her back to Luna, having apparently wandered away from the door and into the garden proper.  Luna opened her mouth to say more, then closed it again. Much as she wished to probe her sister about the dream, Celestia had proven reticent to discuss it in the past, as she had proven evasive about so many things. “So, what worries bid you to seek me out this morning, dear sister?” she said instead. Celestia had been looking up at the statue of the two of them together, but turned her head as Luna addressed her. “This is lovely,” she said. “Is this where you go when you need rest yourself?” “Not for many, many years,” a voice replied from the shadows. “Though she has returned more often of late.”  Night Blossom stepped forth, her form coalescing from the shadows as if she were emerging from a deep fog. “Her dreams were dark, for a time, then featureless, when first she was healing. Now she dreams anew, and this place changes with it.” Celestia glanced curiously at the unknown pony. “Another figment?” she asked Luna. “Not exactly,” Luna replied. “A memory,” Night Blossom answered with an enigmatic smile. “It is good to see you well, Princess Celestia.” Celestia frowned at Night Blossom, looking for all the world as if she were racking her brain for a name on the tip of her tongue. “A... memory?” she asked finally. Turning to Luna, she tilted her head slightly and said: “I thought all of the other beings in our dreams were figments?” “Think of me as a hoofprint in the sand of Luna’s mind, Princess,” Night Blossom replied with a coy smile. “I’m certainly nopony of import anymore, I merely tend the garden here. You, however, are very important... it’s nice to see you here.” “It’s nice to be here,” Celestia replied somewhat automatically. She frowned for a moment longer. “I just wish I could—” “She was Luna’s gardener,” Astra announced suddenly. “They were very close.” “Ah!” Celestia said with evident relief. “Yes, that was it! Blossom... something or other.” “Night Blossom,” Astra supplied. “That was it!” Celestia said, clapping her hooves in delight. “Yes, I recall now. Very skilled. She died of old age.” Celestia turned to Luna, smiling. “You remember her in this way. That’s very sweet.” Luna had silently watched the exchange, uncertain of how she could even respond. She’d already shared her tale of Night Blossom with Fancy and Fleur, and as such, it had been easy to explain her presence in Luna’s dream to them.  She’d always wondered if her sister knew just how close the two of them had been. She didn’t blame Celestia for not knowing, of course. Their lives had been quite literally as night and day, with little overlap in between. How was Celestia to have known when Luna herself had taken pains to hide it?  But she had hoped that her sister did know, and had tacitly approved. Being disabused of that notion hurt. Despite this, Luna smiled gently, as she would when addressing a child who had at least tried their best. “Yes, Blossom was... very special to me, and remains so. But surely you didn’t seek me out to ask me about my garden.” “I remember now... she was your shieldmare as well...” Celestia said in a quiet voice. “You never seemed to... connect with any of the rest of your servants. But her... her you liked.” Celestia walked around Night Blossom, observing her from all angles. She stopped, and nodded decisively. “We’ll erect a statue in her honor.” Luna sighed heavily. “Tia, not another statue—” “Not a large one!” Celestia said quickly. “Something tasteful. A memorial.” “She already has one in my old garden,” Luna replied sullenly.  “Perhaps a window, then?” Celestia said hopefully. “I think Blossom might have liked a window overlooking the garden,” Night Blossom interjected with a mischievous smile. “The new garden is further from the castle than the old one was,” Luna replied irritably. “There aren’t any windows facing it which could properly be seen from the garden.” “Perhaps a memorial toolshed?” Blossom grinned with no hint of remorse. Celestia nodded with a smile. “You know, I don’t usually get to discuss these things with the departed. It’s very convenient!” Luna rubbed at one of her temples, feeling a migraine starting to form. “We will discuss the matter at length, Tia. Please, let it go for the moment.” “In fairness, Blossom has been gone from this world for many centuries. Another memorial is not a pressing matter,” Night Blossom said with a polite lowering of her head. “She would have appreciated the thought, however.” Celestia’s brow furrowed, but she did not press the matter further, thankfully. “All right,” she said, sitting down on the cool stone path. “As you said, I didn’t seek you out to see your lovely garden,” she nodded to Blossom, who flashed her a smile in return. “I... I need your help, sister.” Luna nodded judiciously, “I had surmised as much. Is your recovery continuing apace?” “Better than I had expected,” Celestia replied. “I can manage some small things, now. I even dared to don a disguise to venture out amongst the citizens of Ponyville, and was met with no small measure of success.” “A disguise?” Luna asked, confused. “For what reason would you need to be disguised, Tia?” “If I may...” Night Blossom interjected. “A memorial toolshed could have a window, could it not?” “Oh! Yes, if it were big enough—” Celestia replied with a smile. “Fine!” Luna exclaimed. “I will construct a grand toolshed, the likes of which the world has never seen!” She flung her hooves skyward. “The gilded tools will have hafts encrusted with jewels! It will have finely crafted stone pillars, a giant stained glass window depicting you watering the garden in full plate armor, and above the doorway, it will read ‘Night Blossom Memorial Toolshed’.” Luna said with a roll of her eyes. “Will that suffice?” Night Blossom smiled widely. “I think that might do.” “Also, you were fairly certain Luna was sleeping with her,” Astra said after a moment or two of Luna glaring at Night Blossom. “You found them to be adorable together.” Celestia’s eyes lit up with remembered excitement. “Oh my sun, that’s right! I was so happy for you, Luna! Goodness... that was so long ago...” Luna closed her eyes, taking another deep breath as she rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “You knew?” she asked Celestia. “I... suspected,” Celestia admitted. “You always seemed so happy when you went to the garden. You... weren’t happy most of the time, back then. Then it got so much worse after she passed...” she trailed off with a haunted look. “I’ve had some very good servants over the years, and having one pass is always hard, even when they’ve trained a son or daughter to replace themselves...” “She was... much more than merely a good servant, to me,” Luna said solemnly. “I will never know her like again.” “Surely you can visit her here?” Celestia asked gently. “The Blossom you see is but a shade, Princess Celestia,” Night Blossom replied, looking crestfallen. “The Blossom that was no longer exists, and all that remains are memories of what was.” “I fear she would have been most disappointed to see what became of me,” Luna said quietly. “Blossom would have happily watched the world burn to be at your side, Princess Luna,” the shade said, a note of finality in her voice. “You were... are... everything to her.”  “Or apparently I would have corrupted her alongside me!” Luna said with a wince.  “To be fair,” Blossom replied, “Blossom only cared about you, to begin with. The world was not a concern of hers, only you, and the things you loved.” “Unconditional love is so refreshing,” remarked Astra. “It’s truly the greatest gift one pony can give another, even if it’s a bit of a burden as well.” she thought for a moment, then amended: “Well, it’s a burden if you care about the pony giving the love. More so if you return it.” “I cared, and returned it one thousandfold,” Luna said fervently.  “Blossom knew, and reveled in it,” Blossom replied, trotting over to Luna and giving her a chaste peck on the cheek. She turned to Princess Celestia and gave another sweeping bow. “Forgive me, Princess. As you said, you did not come to talk of ancient history.” “I didn’t, but I don’t mind,” Celestia replied. “I only regret not having gotten to know you properly while you were alive.” Luna shook her head, saying: “You’re going to tease me about this, aren’t you?” “Endlessly,” Astra confirmed. “Why? Because you took the gardener as your secret lover?” Celestia replied with faux innocence. “Maybe just a little.” Luna groaned. “Just... tell me how I can help you, Tia.” Twilight Sparkle was reasonably pleased. She had a plan. Not a perfect plan, but a plan. Of course, the mere idea of a perfect plan was a fallacy to begin with, what with all the variables that living in a world of unpredictable ponies could bring, and that was before even beginning to attempt to account for the bundle of pink random that was her sweet but somewhat maddening marefriend. Despite knowing all of this, she had been worried about any plan she made being as perfect as possible. Infatuation did odd things to her, apparently. Thankfully, Celestia had been nice enough to show her that her attempts to avoid flaws were, in themselves, flaws. And so, despite the new plan seeming incredibly flawed, it was perfect for Pinkie. Which was what she’d been striving for all along.  She felt a deep sense of relaxation as she absent-mindedly sorted and shelved books in the library’s romance section. The preceding weeks had been full of preparation for Fluttershy and Rarity’s wedding, then planning and more planning for her own upcoming date with Pinkie Pie. Finally settling on a plan for the latter was also being able to check off a tick on her mental checklist that had been nagging at her for all of that time. Pass or fail, she was as prepared as she was going to get. Now. she only had to wait, and show Pinkie a good time when the time came. Her front door swung open, and she was reminded of another tick that needed checking: replace the lock on the front door. “Twilight!” a pink blur announced milliseconds later. Twilight had just enough time to brace herself with a quick bonding spell she had prepared for just such an occasion. It made her hooves stick firmly to the wooden floor and prevented what could have been the two of them tumbling end over end into the bookshelves. It had only taken Twilight one time reshelving the entire chemistry section to commit that particular spell to memory, and twice before she began preparing it on any given day Pinkie might arrive without notice. As much as she enjoyed sorting, between Dash’s crashes and Pinkie’s Pinkieness, the book bindings couldn’t take much more abuse. She made a note to research spells for binding repair, just in case. “They’re coming home!” Pinkie said into Twilight’s ear as she hugged her closely. “Who is?” Twilight asked quite reasonably. She forbore asking the second question that came to mind, which was of course how Pinkie knew. The last time she had, Pinkie had told her, and Twilight had needed a long soak in the tub and some willow bark pills to rid herself of the resulting stress headache. “Well, it’s either Fluttershy and Rarity or Rainbow and Applejack.” Pinkie replied after a moment. “Either that or I’ve gotten somepony’s birthday way off and I don’t think it’s that. And I don’t think it’s a new party event either, since that would have been my left knee instead,” she nodded. “Yeah, it’s gotta be them.” Twilight nodded slowly. “All right. That’s unexpected, but hardly unwelcome.” “I need your help,” Pinkie added expectantly. “My help?” Twilight asked. “I mean, of course, but what did you need?” “Well, I know one of our two sets of friends is coming home early, so I need to get a welcome home party party-ready, but I’m not sure which pair is coming home first, and Applejack and Rainbow have very different party preferences to Rarity and Fluttershy. Thing is... I could use a hoof trying to come up with a party that would make either couple happy?” Pinkie stepped back, letting Twilight detach herself from the floor and settle herself comfortably while they talked. Twilight hesitated for a moment before admitting: “I thought your parties were all more or less the same.” Pinkie laughed, finishing with an adorable little giggle-snort. “No! I mean, most of the parties you’ve been to are the same, because those are Dashie-Jackie-Rare-Twi-Shy parties! But remember twelve weeks, two days, and six hours ago when Fluttershy couldn’t make it because Angel had a cold?” Twilight, after some thought, did vaguely recall something about Angel being sick. “Sure?” “Well, for that one, I moved the table to make more room for the hoof-wrassling that Applejack and Rainbow did later that night.” Pinkie said, holding up a single hoof. “Normally I need to leave a corner of the room open for Fluttershy to go to when she’s feeling a little overwhelmed and needs a moment to catch her breath, and Rainbow tries not to be quite as rowdy when she’s there because she knows Shy gets worried about her. Also, I serve a different punch,” she said, holding up a second hoof. “Different cake,” she said, holding up a third. “And I have different party games,” she finished, holding up her fourth hoof for a long moment before putting them all down at once. Twilight’s left eye twitched almost imperceptibly before she closed both eyes and took a deep breath. As much as she adored Pinkie, there were times when she felt like she stood at the precipice of the abyss and just watched as it grinned at her. During those times her brain howled at her to make sense of the world that contained a creature like Pinkie. She’d come to recognize those moments as being both unproductive and unkind to Pinkie, who could not help her own nature any more than she could explain it. “All right,” she said, doing her best to emulate the tones of infinite patience she always remembered Celestia using after Twilight had destroyed something especially expensive. “How can I help?” Pinkie pulled a small chalkboard out of her hair, followed by a collapsible easel. From her tail, she produced a professor’s cap, and playfully batted the tassel around before adopting a serious look. “First. We’ll need to decide how Celly changes the flow of the party. I need you to tell me everything about what she likes and dislikes,” she tapped another section of the chalkboard meaningfully. “Then we need to make models of how Applejack and Rainbow’s needs compare to Rarity and Fluttershy’s needs and see how to fit either within an acceptable margin. Also, balloons. So many balloons.” “I’m sorry,” Rarity said, blinking at the griffin behind the desk. “Could you please explain that again?” Rarity had encountered relatively few members of the griffin race in her life, and because of that, she wasn’t entirely certain if she was merely having bad luck with individuals, or if some traits held true as a rule. Her dealings with them thus far had led her to come to the conclusion that she would encounter, by and large, a somewhat grumpy creature, prone to sudden fits of anger. Consequently, she tended to walk on eggshells when she was interacting with one. It had served her well so far. Gretchen, as the nametag proclaimed this griffin to be, was a breath of fresh air that made Rarity wonder if perhaps it was only the griffins in and around Equestria that were so disagreeable by nature. She was a bright-eyed and friendly creature with well-groomed plumage of vibrant colors. Just looking at her made Rarity wish to take out her sketchbook to jot down some ideas for hats. All of this was made more frustrating by what Gretchen was saying in a cheery tone. “I said there really isn’t a way to get you two home any sooner,” Gretchen repeated. “Sorry.” Rarity pointed out in the direction of the shipyard. There were two airships in the dock, one being made ready for a trip back to Equestria, another having clearly arrived recently that was being unloaded. “Surely we could find room on either of those?” she asked. “I understand our booking isn’t for another week but I wasn’t expecting first class if we can’t manage that.” “I’m afraid both of those ships are booked to capacity,” Gretchen replied. She tapped the reservation book on her desk. “I do have a flight bound for Stalliongrad in four days—” “We need Manehatten, Gretchen. Stalliongrad would add another day’s worth of train travel to our trip.” Rarity interjected. “Well, that would be a little better,” Gretchen said. “Other than that we’d have to book you by train or ship. Those are much easier to get this time of year.” Rarity frowned, dreading what she suspected she was about to hear. “I’m going to guess those aren’t terribly fast.” Gretchen nodded. “By ship, you’d arrive two days after you would have if you waited for your original booking. The train isn’t much better, you can only travel so far along the coast before you have to take a ship at least part of the way. We could get you to another airship port, but I couldn’t tell you ahead of time if there are even seats to be had on those flights. This time of year, it’s virtually guaranteed you won’t find an opening.”  Rarity frowned unhappily. “Perhaps one of the passengers would be willing to accept compensation for a later booking?” she asked hopefully. Gretchen smiled wider, much to Rarity's discomfort. Beaks evidently weren't made for smiling. "I'd be happy to ask, Ma'am, but these flights are booked months in advance by creatures with busy lives and schedules. While it isn't really for me to say how they'll respond, I imagine that they would be less than happy. You wouldn't wish such uncomfortable encounters on the airship personnel, would you?"  The beak stretched a little wider, so wide it made the small hairs on the back of Rarity’s neck stand on end. Ponies were not confronted with predators very often, but some things were instinctual. "No, I suppose not," she said quickly, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck. Gretchen’s smile relaxed somewhat, becoming more genuine and less strained. “All I could recommend is that you check back tomorrow morning. We do a headcount on all passengers several hours before boarding, and if someone hasn’t presented themselves we might be able to find space for you.” Rarity nodded, flashing Gretchen a grateful smile. “I appreciate your efforts on my behalf, and I am sorry to be a bother.” “Not at all, ma’am,” Gretchen replied. “You just asked a few questions. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more satisfactory answers.” Turning away from Gretchen (who, despite the slight tension they’d just experienced, had done wonders for her overall opinion of griffins) Rarity left the office to deliver the sad news to Fluttershy. Despite being unable to book earlier passage, she took solace in the fact that they were no worse off, at least. She made her way back to the restaurant within the airship port terminal, finding Fluttershy in short order. It wasn’t a very large establishment, serving sandwiches and gelato to travelers who were either just arriving or preparing to disembark on their respective journeys. There was even a bar for those who wanted to make their passage a little less coherent or begin their revelry before they entered Mareis. Fluttershy perked up when she saw Rarity, standing and waving her over excitedly. Rarity followed the beckons, a big smile on her face, which faltered slightly when she saw her wife had a companion. He was a large earth pony, with a grey coat and a black mane, and a cutiemark that Rarity supposed was some sort of wheel. She took a dislike to him rather immediately. She chided herself almost instantly. Making companions of fellow travelers was common enough, and just because Fluttershy’s new friend appeared to be a strapping older stallion with a gentle smile and a deep soothing voice was no reason to be in any way wary of him. “Rarity!” Fluttershy said as she rushed over and kissed Rarity excitedly. “You have to meet my friend!” Rarity embraced Fluttershy, just forgetting the world for a moment or two while she reveled in it. Then she slapped on a tight-lipped faux smile that she saved for clients she fully expected to hate. “A pleasure to meet you, sir.” “Rough Seas, ma’am,” the stallion said, “That being my name, that is. You must be the Rarity Miss Shy been gushin’ about.”  Rarity’s tight-lipped smile got just a little tighter. “Missus,” she corrected him. “We’re here on our honeymoon.” “Oh!” he replied. “And where be the lucky Misters?” Rarity closed her eyes and counted to a sufficiently high number before she replied. “There are none, Mister Seas.” “Captain, actually,” he said with a chuckle. “Though I don’t think I’ll be sailing again for a time.” he paused, giving her an appraising look. “Meaning no offense about the mister's comment, ma’am. Nothing wrong with that, mind, but two pretty things such as yourselves, I just assumed.” Rarity nodded curtly, allowing herself to calm down just a little. He couldn’t have known, after all. “No harm done, Captain.” Captain Seas smiled wider, “Allow me to buy you fine ladies a drink, to toast your marriage and all.” He got up and went to the bar, pointing at a bottle and asking for glasses.  Rarity sat down at the table, slumping back into the chair. “We may as well,” she turned to Fluttershy as she sat down as well. “It doesn’t look like we’re going to be going much of anywhere ourselves for a bit, darling. We might have to see if the hotel already rebooked our room.” “They didn’t have any openings?” Fluttershy asked, looking crestfallen. Rarity shook her head. “Perhaps tomorrow morning, if someone doesn’t arrive for check-in. But it’s a small hope. Bookings are quite full this time of year.” Captain Seas returned with his prize, and poured out three glasses of champagne. “There we are!” he said, lifting a glass in salute. “To your health and happiness, lasses.” Rarity smiled despite herself, deciding that first impressions weren’t all that they were cracked up to be. “And to yours as well,” she said, tapping her glass to Fluttershy’s and the Captain’s glasses before downing her own in one long draught. She set it down with a sigh of satisfaction. “Yes, that helps a bit.” “So, you two be stranded here as well, eh?” The Captain asked as he poured another round. “Well, not stranded, per se.” Rarity admitted. “We had originally planned on a two weeks stay.” “I asked if we could maybe go home early, then come back,” Fluttershy said. “I just... I have animals, and I worry—” “Perhaps it’s for the best, darling,” Rarity said as she took a more demure sip from her second glass. “We can still use our return tickets in a week, and while we might need a new hotel room, I’m certain we can find one with relative ease.” “Ah, that’s a shame,” Captain Seas said. “Me, I’m stuck waiting for my ‘Bonny Sue’ to get patched up. The gas up top started leaking on our way here. We made it into port but she won’t fly until I get her patched good and proper.” “The griffin at the counter was nice enough, but I got the strong impression she might bite me if I tried to bribe one of her passengers for their tick—” Rarity stopped, her ears perking up by sudden interest. She turned from Fluttershy back to their new friend. “I’m sorry, did you say your ship was leaking air just now?” “Gas, ma’am. So it can float in the air, you see.” “So your ‘Bonny Sue’—” “Be an airship, aye,” The captain said. “She did no’ used to be. But some smart lads in Equestria hit on the idea of taking sound sailing vessels and adding some bits and ropes and engines and then they fly, so now I sail the skies.” he sighed heavily, pouring himself another drink. “Except my ‘Sue’ won’t fly until we finish repairs. So I be stuck here. Still, I meet nice travelers, and the food’s good. Not all bad,” he held up his glass in silent salute before emptying it again.  “Repairs...” Rarity repeated. “Tell me, how long will that take?” “May take a while. The crew here is mostly for fueling and unloading. Major repairs usually are no’ needed.” Captain Seas frowned and spat into his empty glass. “Ran afoul of pirates. Wanted me cargo. Chased em off but they hooked a couple harpoons into the bag. Left big holes when they scuttled off.” “So... the only thing keeping you from flying is some mending,” Rarity mused, a smile growing on her lips. She looked at Fluttershy, seeing understanding in her wife’s eyes, and enthusiastic agreement. “It don’t be so simple,” the Captain protested. “We need materials, and workponies—” “Um... Captain...” Fluttershy said. “If you can tell me what you need, we can get it for you...” “And I’m certain if I myself cannot mend your ship, we can find you workponies to do so,” Rarity added.  Rough Seas looked back and forth between the two of them. “Lasses, this do no be your problem. My ship will be fixed soon enough...” “Or, you could let us lend you a hoof, and in exchange, you could go a bit out of your way on your return trip to Equestria.” Rarity replied smoothly. “We’re trying to get to a little town near Canterlot.” “We were bound for Canterlot next,” The Captain mused. “Spices and tea, you see.” “I’d be happy to pay you for passage, too,” Fluttershy added.  The Captain looked doubtful, offering: “My ‘Sue’ no be a speedy ship like these gals in dock that take the tourists back and forth. ‘Sue’ be an honest working ship, and surely too messy for you fine lasses.” “Can you provide us with a little privacy and get us to Ponyville in under a week?” Rarity asked with a smirk. “Well, depending on repairs, and loading cargo... two to three days, I would say,” the Captain said, tapping his chin. “And if you be paying for passage after already helping with repairs, I can have you stay in me own cabin while I bunk with the boys.”  Rarity shared a look with Fluttershy, who simply nodded. “All right, Captain. I believe we have a deal.” The Captain shook his head. “We do no’ have a deal quite yet, but that’s mended easier than my ship.” He spat on his hoof, extending it forward. Rarity hesitated for the briefest of moments before spitting on her own hoof and clasping it to his. “Right, a bargain is struck. Now, let’s begin with materials you’ll need, then have a look at those holes.”