One Month Later
Hope's Point was abuzz with activity, the most it had gone through in several years. The city was in a particularly celebratory mood today, and most ponies had tuned in to the local news station to watch the coverage of the royal wedding. On just about every television screen citywide, the citizens of Hope's Point currently watched a news anchor—a peach-colored earth pony mare wearing a snappy dress jacket—behind her newsdesk address viewers with a big, friendly smile.
"The royal palace is booming with activity today as Her Royal Highness, Queen Blackburn, is due to be wed to soon-to-be King Lockwood," the anchor said. "While Her Majesty has expressed a desire for a private ceremony, we have been allowed to provide limited coverage of the event, including a brief visit from Her Majesty and her husband-to-be to show off their wedding attire and take photos before retiring to the reception.
"We go now to our stallion in the field, Brick Road. Brick?"
The image on the screen shifted to that of a dark red earth pony stallion situated at the gates of the royal palace, which were closed to the public, though that didn't stop a cheering crowd from gathering to catch some glimpse of anything that was going on inside.
"Thank you, Peach," said Brick Road, the field reporter. He gestured to the crowd outside the gate. "As you can see, a large crowd has formed here at the royal palace as everypony tries to catch a glimpse of anything or anypony that might be involved with the royal wedding before the ceremony begins."
"And has anypony caught sight of anything yet, Brick?" asked the anchor—Peach Fuzz—with genuine curiosity.
"A few witnesses say they've seen some guests arriving via the hidden side entrances to the palace, including members of Her Majesty's Council, but we have no confirmation as of yet on these claims. But, as you can see, the crowd is quite lively as we look forward to word that the wedding ceremony has concluded so we can get that exclusive look at Her Majesty's wedding dress and the first public appearance of our new king."
"Speaking of our new king, what seems to be the word on the street there about what's happening inside? Are the ponies there as excited as we are for Her Majesty?"
"Well, Peach, I've talked to a few of these ponies and the general consensus is one of excitement and approval of Her Majesty and her choice in a husband. After news came to light of his role in helping Her Majesty with improving our city during her time spent infiltrating New Pandemonium before she took the throne, soon-to-be King Lockwood seems to have been met with unanimous praise and love."
"That's wonderful, Brick. Keep us updated on any developments there at the royal palace."
"Will do, Peach. Back to you in the studio."
The image shifted back to Peach Fuzz behind a desk. "Stay tuned here folks for further news on the royal wedding as it happens. In the meantime—"
*****
The royal wedding chapel had been exquisitely decorated with whites, blues, and purples. Hundreds of flowers of varying kinds lined the aisle and scented candles sat at the edges of the room, all combining to give the chapel the smell of a pleasant southern spring afternoon. All of the pews were packed tight with guests, which meant friends, special guests, and family only, with not a single camera crew in sight.
Lockwood stood proud and confident at the altar as he waited for the ceremony to begin. His tuxedo had a high collar decorated in the reds and golds of Hope's Point. He was feeling extra nervous right this moment, not out of worry or fear but out of sheer, regular nerves. Today was the day. Here at last! He'd been waiting for nearly six years—it was only about a month short—for this very important day, and now it was finally here.
He'd had no idea just how nervous he would feel when the day finally arrived.
At Lockwood's side were his three groomsmen. For his Best Stallion, there was no more obvious choice than his best friend and adopted brother, Flathoof, who couldn't have possibly looked more proud. Next was Crossfire, naturally, one of Lockwood's closest friends, his personal bodyguard, and the closest pony that Blackburn had to a brother. Lastly was Virtuoso, who had been a close friend to both the bride and the groom for years and who had played a major role in the two getting together. They were all dressed in crisp black tuxedos just like Lockwood's, though without the high collars.
While Blackburn was not yet present, her bridesmaids were. Gadget was the lead bridesmaid, no question; she and Blackburn were practically sisters, after all. She'd attached a miniature camera to her lovely dress, solely to record the event since somepony had to, if only for posterity's sake. "Something to pass on to the kids", she'd said.
Ivory Charm was next in the line, for much the same reasons that Virtuoso was on Lockwood's side. She was a drop-dead gorgeous unicorn mare with a white coat and a long pink mane; even pregnant as she was, there was a definite poise to be seen. Lockwood had been ecstatic to hear the news of her pregnancy when he'd arrived, and more than a little surprised to be asked to be the foal's godfather.
Third was a mare named Lyrica, who had an aquamarine coat and a cyan mane with white highlights, who was clearly rather surprised to be so involved, but Blackburn had few friends and considered Lyrica close enough to be here. She'd been one of Virtuoso's top lieutenants up north, and had helped him and his family escape when Vendetta had tried to have them killed.
All three mares were dressed in pretty, off-white dresses, though Ivory's was tailored to fit just a little bigger to accommodate her swollen belly.
The other guests present included all the ponies that could make it here that had helped shape the lives of the royal couple over the years, so many in fact that Lockwood could only barely register just how many names there had been on the guest list. He'd met several of them for the first time only today, just before the wedding ceremony was to begin, as they'd arrived in the city specifically for the event:
Lockwood's other adopted family members were present, of course, all of them seated in the front row where they could easily watch the event unfold from the best seats in the house. Each was dressed in attire that they'd never have been able to afford back home. Only Shorthoof wasn't here right now, and for good reason.
Briarthorn sat in the front on Blackburn's side of the aisle, dressed in a snappy tux that Lockwood had to admit made him look rather dashing. He didn't want to sound hypocritical, but he felt that maybe if Briarthorn dressed nicer every once in a while, he could really turn some heads.
The entire Council was present, naturally—Spark Plug, Avalanche, Moonglass, Cherry Tart, Lightning Flash, Stellar Storm, even Concord—and each had of course brought their families.
Some past Council members were present as well, such as an aging unicorn named Solarian who once served as Chief Science Officer, and who had been the personal tutor of Queen Blackburn for years. There was also a unicorn mare, Evening Glitz, who once served as Chief Security Officer. She'd brought her husband along, an orange pegasus stallion named Dusk Sentinel.
Seeing Glitz actually made Lockwood feel a pang of nostalgia. She was almost a dead ringer for Twilight Sparkle, albeit much older. They even styled their manes the same way.
There was also a handsome unicorn stallion named Shining Steel, who had been the personal bodyguard for Blackburn's grandfather, along with his wife, a gorgeous unicorn mare named Paramour, and their unicorn daughter, Crystal Heart. Shining and Crystal weren't present in the room at the moment, but would be soon enough.
Then there was Sweet Cream, Lyrica's wife, who was already showing that her own pregnancy was progressing along just like Ivory's. Lockwood wasn't sure how the couple had made it happen, but knew that here in Hope's Point there were lots of options for same-sex couples to have foals, some medical, some magical, some mundane. There was little like that up north, apart from the last one.
Several of Lockwood's old friends from up north who had moved down here in the past had been invited: Cookie Dough, an earth pony mare that had been a representative of Dolorcorp, was here with her husband Hot Cocoa. Doctor Heartthrob, a unicorn stallion and gifted surgeon that had been a donor at many of the charity events Lockwood organized.
Then there was Keeneye, a unicorn mare that Lockwood knew and who had been one of his less… legal contacts up north, and who forged documents for him and those he referred to her; most importantly, she'd forged the documentation he needed to "adopt" himself into Flathoof's family when they were all in high school.
And of course, there were the Tea Sisters, Mint and Matcha, a pair of unicorn twins that edited and owned the New Pandemonium Times, and who would naturally be reporting back home with the scoop of the century. Even now the two were busy glancing about the room, hastily jotting down notes onto their notepads and snapping pictures.
To Lockwood's relief, Winter Glow had been able to make it, though apparently with some hesitation and complaint about her work schedule. Winter was an icy blue unicorn mare short enough to be mistaken for a filly at times; her mane was stark white. By her side, to Lockwood's surprise, was an actual filly—Hourglass was her name—no more than eight years old and just barely smaller than Winter. She was a vanilla-colored unicorn with a pinkish-purple mane.
Neither wore a dress, but wore official "uniforms" which amounted to a purple turtleneck, scarf, and beret for Winter, and a black dress suit and matching top hat for Hourglass. Very odd indeed. Whatever it was that the Chronomancer was up to these days, Lockwood didn't know, but it was still lovely to see her again.
Last, but not least, was the so-called "Guest of Honor", Golden Dawn, as well as her sisters and their guests. Lockwood was fairly certain nopony outside of the Council knew who Dawn actually was, so he was also fairly certain that nopony was referring to her as the "Guest of Honor".
Dawn herself had dressed in a simple off-white dress, and Gray Skies and Red Velvet wore nearly identical dresses—they were plain enough to meet the requirements for the wedding and not outshine the bride herself, but elegant enough to be classy. Dawn maintained a certain professional poise, as always, while Velvet just seemed curious and happy to be here, scoping out the room like an excited filly. Gray, Lockwood noticed, couldn't keep her eyes off of Flathoof.
Curaçao and her date, Shroud, wore dresses that were just a smidge more elegant, for Curaçao was far more fashion-conscious and took pride in how she and her fillyfriend looked and dressed in public. The two looked incredibly happy together, and Lockwood wasn't certain but there was something about the way they were talking that told him Curaçao was getting big ideas for the future.
Insipid, of course, wore an elegant dress that probably just barely stopped short of being nicer than the wedding dress would be. It had actually made Lockwood slightly anxious when they spoke briefly before the event, because over the past few months she had started becoming more and more refined. She had carved out a little niche for herself in how she acted and spoke, and Lockwood was certain that Rarity would be proud of what her protégé had accomplished.
Lockwood found his mind wandering to what Rarity might be doing now… and he was ashamed that of all things to think about on his wedding day, it was her.
Then of course there was Havoc, who had dressed in a snappy military dress uniform. He knew none of the medals she wore had actually been presented properly to her, but considering the work she did in the Wastelands she'd more than earned them as far as he was concerned. Beside her was her date, a mare she'd apparently met here in Hope's Point last month named Cotton Rose, who wore a lovely pink dress supposedly of her own design.
There were a few guards present as well, though they were inconspicuous, hardly noticeable at all unless you knew they were beforehand, which naturally Lockwood did. Commander Pinpoint ran a tight ship, from what Lockwood could tell.
At long last, the traditional Bridal Chorus played, and the crowd's attention turned towards the chapel entrance. The ring bearer, Shorthoof, entered the room first, carrying a little purple pillow with two small gold, diamond-studded earrings. He'd dressed in a tight-fitting tuxedo just like his brothers and father, though he was clearly just a little uncomfortable in it.
Following Shorthoof were the flower fillies, Crown Jewel—firstborn daughter of Virtuoso and Ivory—and Crystal Heart, each dressed in an adorable, flower-patterned gold-and-pink dress. They sprinkled flowers of every color imaginable along the path up to the altar.
Following them was the bride herself, Queen Blackburn, accompanied by Shining Steel, who Blackburn said was the pony that she most considered a father figure, and who had been best friends with her beloved grandfather.
Lockwood smiled brightly as the two approached the altar. Blackburn's mouth curled in a little grin as she approached him in turn. Her white and gold wedding dress was elaborate to a fault, topped with a crown-like veil decorated with various flowers; it had been designed by one of Hope's Point's most famous fashion designers, Haute Couture.
Once Blackburn reached the altar and everypony but those at the altar took their seats, the organ music stopped and the wedding officiator addressed the crowd:
"Friends, family, and compatriots, we are gathered here today to bear witness to the union between these two, Queen Blackburn and Lockwood, in matrimony. If anypony can show just cause why these two should not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."
Lockwood did not expect a single peep out of the crowd in attendance, and knew that Blackburn didn't either. In fact, nopony did, and so it was unsurprising when the room remained silent.
Thank goodness, Lockwood thought. A day without surprises is always a nice one. Usually.
The officiator then turned to the couple and began the ceremonial speech proper:
"Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. O no! It is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken; it is the star to every wand'ring bark, whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come; love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me prov'd, I never writ, nor no pony ever lov'd."
He then turned to Blackburn. "I understand the two of you wrote your own vows?"
"We did," Blackburn said with a nod.
"Then you may read them now."
Blackburn cleared her throat, looked deep into Lockwood's eyes, and recited from memory:
"It is clear to me now that everything in my life has led me to you. I think back on all my choices and consider even the bad ones blessed, because if I had done even one thing differently, I might never have met you and become entwined in your life. As we join our lives together let us vow to live in truth, to always communicate fully, to hold each other against the wind, to feel our hearts joined as one. To you I give myself and everything I will ever be."
Lockwood smiled, then took a breath of his own as he, too, gazed into Blackburn's eyes and recited from memory:
"Sometimes I watch just the smallest things you do and think I am the luckiest stallion alive. From you I've learned how to dream and what it is to have a loving partner who supports your dreams. I vow to help you in your dreams and desires; to watch over your city, to guide your flock and to create a life, a family, and a loving home as your husband. As your husband, I am yours, and I tenderly deliver you my heart and soul."
He finished it off by getting down and performing their special gesture, in which with his wings and wings alone he offered her his heart forever. Blackburn smiled back at him, taking his offered wing with her own. To the average pegasus onlooker that knew wing language, it would roughly translate to him having a bad case of heartburn, but to them it was something else entirely.
The officiator nodded, then turned towards Shorthoof, who stood readily nearby. "May we now have the rings?"
Shorthoof hurried forward between the couple, who each took one earring with a hoof.
The officiator turned to Lockwood first. "Lockwood, as you place the ring on Blackburn's ear, please repeat after me: I give you this ring to wear—"
Lockwood reached up and began affixing the earring to Blackburn's ear. "I give you this ring to wear—"
"—as a symbol of my abiding love—"
"—as a symbol of my abiding love—"
"—my eternal faith, and my undying devotion—"
"—my eternal faith, and my undying devotion—"
"—it is an outward reminder of our inner unity."
"—it is an outward reminder of our inner unity."
The officiator then turned to Blackburn, and asked her to do the same for Lockwood: "Your Majesty Queen Blackburn, as you place the ring on Lockwood's ear, please repeat after me—"
She followed along exactly as Lockwood had done, and now the two each had a gold-and-diamond earring in their ears.
The officiator then smiled. "Then, by the authority vested in me by the city of Hope's Point, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Your Majesty King Lockwood, you may kiss the bride."
Lockwood smirked, and stepped forward to wrap Blackburn in a hug as he kissed her lovingly.
*****
Once the wedding ceremony had completed and the King and Queen made their first, albeit brief, public appearance as a married couple, the reception immediately began in the royal palace's grand dining hall, which had likewise been decorated for the occasion much as the chapel had been: in whites, blues, and purples. Several dozen round tables had been set up for the guests and their friends and families.
Food and drink was provided, of course, and the royal coffers had been generously used to provide a staggering variety of options. For some this would be their first chance to try Baroque, Newhaven, or especially Utopian cuisine; Blackburn had even arranged for some zebra cuisine to be present, expressing a desire to sample the fare of as much of the southern continent as possible. There was enough food for everypony present, and the leftovers were being donated to the city's charity efforts for helping incoming refugees from further north.
Blackburn made it clear to her new husband that the plan for their honeymoon was a tour of the south, which Lockwood looked forward to immensely, having never been outside of the brief trip to Newhaven's port. As a pair of visiting dignitaries they were certain to be invited to witness all the sights and take in all the cultures, and even if there was a slight ulterior motive of establishing further diplomatic ties it still seemed like an ideal romantic getaway.
More than anything, though, Lockwood was glad to have as many ponies here that he cared about as possible to enjoy the wedding experience with him. There had been many times over the years that he feared he'd never be able to make this trip, that he'd never see Blackburn or Crossfire or Gadget ever again, that he wouldn't be able to bring his family to meet them.
He was thankful beyond measure that everything had worked out in the end, and he'd made sure to thank Curaçao and Gray in particular for making it happen. To the former he technically owed money; to the latter, his life.
As the evening wore on, Lockwood became floored by the sheer amount of congratulations he received from everypony. Blackburn's closest advisors and friends all seemed particularly eager to see how he handled his new position in life, all without so much as a hint of doubt, as though they just knew he would do well by Hope's Point.
Lockwood's own friends' and family's congratulations were more about teasing him for aiming high in a partner and landing the shot. Those that knew Blackburn as Thunderbolt once upon a time said that a wealthy tech mogul was already a long shot for Lockwood, but royalty was something else.
Eventually, Havoc came over to the table with a small box tucked under her wing, which she set onto the table in front of Lockwood and Blackburn with a small grin. "Congrats, you two," she said with a nod. "Weddings aren't exactly my thing, but I'm happy for you. Everypony needs somepony sometimes, y'know?"
Lockwood smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Havoc. How are you enjoying yourself? Is the food to your liking?"
"Oh yeah, you guys got some boss caterers. I knew I liked Baroque food and all that jazz, but there's some quality stuff on offer here. And hey, good call on the open bar, too. Top shelf shit, Dreamboat, gotta hoof it to ya."
Blackburn tilted her head, a little grin on her face. "Appreciate the compliments. If I may, have been curious: you call Lockwood 'Dreamboat'. Implies physical attraction. You have a crush on my husband."
Lockwood glanced at his wife, eyebrow raised. Blackburn wasn't asking; she sounded certain. "What? Havoc doesn't—"
"Oh, yeah, I used to have a major crush on this doofus," Havoc interjected with a shrug. "Don't think anything of it, though. I'm over him now." She nudged Lockwood gently. "No offense."
"Uh… none taken? Wait, you had a crush on me?" Lockwood shook his head in disbelief. "Wow, I really am bad at figuring out when mares are attracted to me, aren't I? How many is this now?"
Blackburn tenderly set her hoof on his shoulder. "Very bad at it," she said with a smirk. She turned back to Havoc. "You are together with Cotton Rose, then."
Havoc gave a nervous chuckle and rubbed the back of her neck. "Oh, uh… no. We're not, like… together together. Not like a couple or anything like that. We just had fun together last time I was here, and I figured that since I might not see her again it might be nice to take her out for the night, y'know, show her a good time."
"But you two are physical together."
"If you're asking if we're fucking, then yes," Havoc said without an ounce of shame or embarrassment. "Good eye, I guess? You can tell?"
Lockwood snickered at Havoc's brazenness. "Wow, just gonna come right out and say it like that, are ya?"
"Meh. It doesn't bother either of us who knows about it. Sucks that I won't get to see her much if ever again after this, but hey, it's been nice while it lasted. We're gonna make the most of tonight. Kinda have to."
She then glanced over towards where Cotton was seated and grinned. "Damn, though, she looks good in that dress. Y'know she whipped that thing up in like an hour?"
Blackburn paused a moment, staring right at Havoc, then gave her a little smile. "Reminds me, wanted to speak with you after wedding, before you left back home. Seems appropriate to do it now, though."
"Huh?"
Blackburn glanced about briefly, as though making sure that nopony else was listening in. "This stays between us. Understood?"
"Uh… okay, sure. What's up?"
Blackburn let out a breath. "Will be blunt: still do not trust your sister. Peace proposal genuine benefit to both cities; lived entire life wanting nothing more. However, also lived entire life believing it impossible; northerners despise us, our way of life, make war on us, gloat about killing my citizens, killing my family." She took another breath. "Difficult to forget, forgive.
"However, you are different. Genuine desire to help. Peace proposal's success irrelevant to your work. Have heard testimonials from ponies you've saved; held in high regard. Have shown distinct desire to assimilate into our culture, bond with my citizens." Blackburn shook her head. "No doubt in mind that you are opposite of threat. Quality of character too great."
Havoc blinked, stunned. "Well… thanks, Your Majesty. I appreciate that. I mean, I'll be the first to admit that the only reason I was ever put on this job in the first place was because Dawn wanted to build up a reputation ahead of time, but—"
"Irrelevant," Blackburn interjected. "Following orders one thing; giving your all another. Have proven… magnanimous. So, have spoken with Chief Storm. Inserted you into our system, granted ambassador-level clearance. Gate guards will allow entrance into Hope's Point from this day forward, no questions."
"Wait, you mean I can come and go as I please? No questions asked?"
"Correct. So long as you are alone, of course."
Havoc stared at the floor for a moment; Lockwood had never seen her look so shaken before, but in a good way. "Yeah, wow, that's… thank you, Your Majesty. That means a lot to me—"
"Imagined that acknowledgement of your accomplishments would, Commander Havoc," Blackburn said with a firm tone. "Final note: this permission, distinct measure of trust placed in you. Do not make me regret it, or you will."
Havoc gave Blackburn a brisk salute and a little grin. "Absolutely not, Your Majesty. You have my word, I won't let you down."
"Excellent." Blackburn then eyed Havoc's uniform briefly. "Don't imagine your choice in uniform was approved."
"How did you—"
"Observant. Sister, Dawn, chastises your outfit with her eyes. Stands out from other sisters. Other sisters indifferent at worst; Dawn disapproves."
Havoc snorted. "Yeah, she said that it wasn't appropriate wedding attire. First of all, I don't do dresses, and I don't compromise on that shit. The only time I'm ever wearing a dress is for my own funeral, and only then if my cold, dead body doesn't fight back to get it off.
"Second, look at this!" She puffed out her chest and gestured at her uniform and all the medals. "It's proper military dress attire! You've got military ponies here too, and they're wearing their dress uniforms. Look at General Avalanche, for example! I mean, come on."
"Indeed. Take no offense to choice of outfit."
"I think it looks good on you, actually," Lockwood said with a smile and a nod. He tilted his head towards Cotton, who was still seated at another table waiting for Havoc to return, probably too nervous to approach the table with her. "Your date seems to appreciate it too."
"That's because I make this shit look good," Havoc chuckled, flexing her wings and forelegs at once while winking at Lockwood.
Lockwood then glanced at the box that Havoc had brought over. "So, what's this here, anyway? A wedding present?"
Havoc's eyes widened as she looked at the box. "Oh! Right, that's why I even came over here in the first place. Yeah, it's a wedding gift, but not from me. It's from Miracle and Vaccine. They said they're sorry they couldn't make it, something about being too old to make the trip. I wasn't about to object, 'cause uh… yeah, they're old as fuck. Ancient, even."
Blackburn took the box and opened it, then showed Lockwood its contents: a small vial of green liquid. "What is it?" he asked, turning back to Havoc.
Havoc grinned and leaned in real close to the royal couple before whispering: "They said it was, uh… 'marital aid'. You're just supposed to mix a few drops into a warm drink like coffee or tea, and boom, magic." She nudged Lockwood and waggled her eyebrows. "'Guaranteed to put a bun in her oven', Vaccine said. So, uh, have a nice honeymoon."
Lockwood and Blackburn stared at the vial together for a moment, then looked at one another. "Well… tell Miracle and Vaccine 'thank you' from us. We'll surely enjoy their little gift, right BB?"
Blackburn was slightly red in the face, but sported a sultry grin. "Oh, we will," she said, her hoof firmly sliding along Lockwood's leg towards his crotch. "I guarantee it."
*****
As the evening progressed, Curaçao came to realize that as close as this royal wedding was to how she'd always envisioned a traditional wedding, there were aspects of it that were surely designed to appeal to Hope's Point culture. She had always been under the impression that a proper after-wedding party was a highly formal affair, and while yes, there certainly were parts of it that were, it was distinctly casual in many other aspects. She supposed that was the benefit to being the King and Queen of the city; they could do what they wanted if it made them comfortable.
Not that she was complaining in the least. She just found it odd to have the dancing portion of the evening spaced so closely after dinner. But again, it didn't bother her at all, because she and Shroud had eaten light at dinner with plans to partake in the after-dancing offerings and desserts instead. She was looking forward to the wedding cake in particular, having caught a glimpse of it earlier.
For now, though, she was focused entirely on two things and two things only: how gorgeous Shroud looked in her dress, and how graceful and confident Shroud had become on the dance floor over these past several months. Her paramour was still just a novice, all things considered, but no longer needed Curaçao's constant guidance to maneuver around without tripping. This meant, of course, that they could focus on one another and hold an actual conversation.
"Are you enjoying the wedding so far, mon amour?" she asked as they swept in a graceful circle near the edge of the floor.
"It's been a magical little evening, hasn't it?" Shroud said with a dreamy smile. "To think, when I first met Mister— er, King Lockwood, I didn't think much of him beyond him just being a really nice guy with a lot of friends. To think that he was in a relationship with Queen Blackburn all this time is just… well, impressive."
Curaçao smirked; she was still reeling from the revelation. "Oui, quite impressive. I noticed everything about his relationship with Thunderbolt, but I missed that most important factor. It helped them that nopony knew what Her Majesty looked like outside of Hope's Point, of course, but I still fault myself that I didn't piece something together."
"Well, I guess it's just down to a matter of luck that everypony met the right ponies in the end, isn't it?" Shroud said as she glanced at the royal couple, who danced in the center of the floor. "I don't know if you and Miss Dawn would be able to make this peace work without him."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, um… no offense, honey, but… I know about all the things that have gone on between our two cities, and it's all pretty bad stuff. You might have figured something out eventually, but Miss Dawn—"
"Oui, say no more," Curaçao interjected. "Ma sœur has a certain way with ponies, but I do not think it would have benefitted us without cooler heads present, like Lockwood. And to think, it all comes down to the circumstances of how Twilight Sparkle and company arrived in our fair city. Très chanceux."
Curaçao then glanced over at the dancing royal couple herself, and grinned slightly; they did make a good couple, that was obvious just from how they looked at each other. "It is funny, non? Lockwood made a point to deny dancing with anypony for years, saying that he was out of practice. It is clear to me now that he merely wished to never dance with anypony but his true love. Comme c'est romantique."
Shroud watched the royal couple dance as well. The pair was particularly graceful once they were in the air, and it was clear for anypony to see that Lockwood was no slouch in the dancing department. Quite the opposite, actually; he was practically a professional. The way he moved his wings, twisted and turned his body, and gently guided his partner were all so elegant and rhythmic that there was no doubt he had true talent, and that Blackburn was following his lead on probably the only thing she ever would.
And this was not his "special talent", either, the one that ponies had represented by their cutie marks. No, this was a talent and skill he had developed that had nothing to do with his calling in life; this was a passion of his, something he had to have been invested in since he was very young. There was a joy in his eyes, not just from the sheer enjoyment of dancing but who he was dancing with. Every action he had taken in his life had led him to this very moment, and he couldn't have looked happier if he tried.
Bravo, Lockwood. Bravo.
"It is pretty romantic, isn't it?" Shroud murmured airily. "This whole wedding is. I've never been to one before, not personally, but I've seen lots of them in movies and on TV. The real deal is pretty special, much more than those staged ones. Those two clearly love each other very, very much."
"Oui, they do," Curaçao said softly. She pulled Shroud closer as they danced together, so that they were practically nose to nose. "Ma chérie, have I told you that you look absolutely stunning tonight? Vous prenez mon souffle."
"Seven times," Shroud said with a grin. "Now eight. And every time, I say right back to you how gorgeous you look."
Curaçao pressed her nose lightly against hers. "Raspberry, mon amour," she whispered, "this evening has got me thinking…"
"Ooh, this must be serious if you're using my real name. Thinking about what?"
"About you. About me. About us."
"C-Curie, what—"
"Veux-tu m'épouser? Will you marry me?"
Shroud paused for a moment, then pressed forward. Their lips touched, a gentle kiss. She pulled away after only a brief moment, her eyes watering. "Yes. A thousand times, yes."
Curaçao smiled and leaned forward to kiss Shroud back, just as gently as before. "Je t'aime, ma petite framboise."
*****
Insipid had worked up the courage to walk over to the table were Ivory Charm was seated for the fourth time tonight, and this time, she did not chicken out at the last second and head off elsewhere to cool her nerves. This time, she took a deep breath and made straight for the table with the speed and determination of a bullet; nothing was going to stop her from getting to the table this time.
The other mare was, simply put, gorgeous. Insipid had only ever seen her in photographs before, and since she knew that most photographs were touched up in some fashion, sometimes in the most minor of ways, she didn't expect the other mare to be as perfectly perfect as her photos were. It was pretty close though, and Insipid even accounted for both the age difference since the mare's last photoshoot and the fact that she was super pregnant.
Even with all that considered, Ivory Charm was still drop-dead gorgeous, living up to her reputation in every possible way.
Hence the intimidation. But this time, Insipid sucked it up and made her beeline for the table, where Ivory was seated and chatting with her husband, Virtuoso. He was intimidating in his own way—former reputation notwithstanding—but that didn't scare Insipid so much as potentially making a fool of herself in front of the one-and-only Ivory Charm did. First impressions were everything in the business.
As she reached the table, she realized that she'd drawn the attention of the couple just by being there, so after taking another breath, she smiled and looked right at Ivory and tried her best to hide just how nervous she was. "You're Ivory Charm, right?" she asked, knowing the answer but determined to be as polite as possible.
Ivory nodded. "Oui, c'est moi," she said.
Insipid felt her heart skip slightly from sheer nerves; she didn't know the other mare was fluent in Romantique! Or was she? Did she just have the same basic knowledge that she herself knew? It didn't sound like that was it; this mare had the distinct accent to go with a pony who spoke the language fluently, just like Curaçao did. She was more thankful than ever that her sister had been teaching her over these few months.
Her career, no, her life depended on it.
"It's, like, a total pleasure to meet you," Insipid replied, gently offering her hoof. "My name's Insipid, and I'm a big fan."
Ivory briefly touched her hoof against Insipid's, not quite a hoofshake or hoofbump but a friendly acknowledgement nonetheless. "Are you now? I have not modeled in some time since moving, so— oh la la, you must be one of the guests from New Pandemonium, oui? That would explain it."
"Yeah, that's right. I've known the king for, like, almost a year now? We're pretty good friends, or at least I think we are since he invited me to his wedding. Cha."
"Ah, our dearest Lockwood is always making wonderful new friends, isn't he darling?" Ivory said, smiling at her husband and patting his hoof.
"He has a way about him like that," said Virtuoso, who leaned back and stroked his pencil-thin mustache. "È un piacere incontrarti, Miss Insipid."
Insipid froze briefly as she recognized Virtuoso's Baroque accent and mastery of the language. She was confident in how she could handle herself with that language too, but had definitely not been expecting him to know it so well, not when his wife spoke Romantique. Between the two ponies, they spoke three languages. That had to make things complicated when they communicated. Didn't it? She hoped it didn't and wouldn't.
"And a pleasure to meet you too, Mister Virtuoso," she said, offering her hoof in his direction and reminding herself very strongly not to refer to him as "Don" Virtuoso, because that wasn't who he was anymore and would be a major faux pas.
The stallion took her offered hoof and gave it a delicate shake, just the precise amount of friendliness to give to a stranger. He seemed impressed with her knowledge of his language, a good first step in her book. It wasn't a difficult phrase to learn, of course, but Insipid knew that some ponies just didn't bother with learning greetings beyond "hello" and maybe "how are you?".
"What can we do for you, darling?" Ivory asked as she sipped from a glass of orange juice, looking every bit relaxed and poised despite her heavy pregnancy. Insipid was almost a little worried the mare would pop!
"For me? Oh! Oh, nothing, nothing at all," Insipid quickly said. "I just wanted to, like, take the opportunity to meet you since I don't know if I'll ever get a chance like this again. So, like, I'm a huge fan and junk, and I wanted to, like, tell you that your work with fashion and modeling inspires my work."
Ivory raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you a model as well?" She glanced up and down at Insipid's figure then giggled to herself in a way that made Insipid feel very comfortable. "Oh la la, pardonne-moi, of course you are! I can tell. You have the bearing of a mare who knows all about poise, oui? And that dress, oh, c'est merveilleux. Almost as lovely as Her Majesty's."
"Thanks!" Insipid said, carefully twirling the hem to show off the dress. It wasn't a Rarity Original, unfortunately, since there were so few of those left and they needed to be saved for other occasions, but it was one of Lace's designs so Insipid cared very much what other ponies—especially Ivory—thought about it.
Ivory patted her husband's hoof again. "Mon amour, it will be so good to get back into a luxurious dress like that. Having to tailor my dresses to fit my big belly is such a hassle. I will never forgive you for putting this foal in me, vaurien."
Virtuoso grinned and leaned over to kiss the nape of his wife's neck and breathe in her ear. "You weren't complaining the night I did it, tesoro mio. Era musica per le mie orecchie."
"Mmm, tu es une bête," she purred, lifting her neck up to give him better access.
"Oh! And congratulations on the new foal, by the way," Insipid interjected, gesturing at Ivory's pregnant tummy.
She had no problem with public displays of affection—her best friends were Lace and Lapel after all—but this seemed like it was neither the time nor the place for it. Not for her sake, of course, but for theirs.
"Merci beaucoup, dear," Ivory said with a sweet smile, pulling back from her husband ever so slighty.
"When are they due? Ooh! Are they gonna be a colt or a filly?"
"Next month, give or take a week, and it's going to be a sweet little filly." Ivory rubbed her stomach softly with both hooves, looking supremely content and happy. "It will be different raising another daughter in this environment compared to how it was when we lived up north, but I know we can do as well for her as we did for our sweet Crown Jewel."
Insipid gasped, fanning herself gently. "Awww, a little filly? Do you have any names picked out?"
Virtuoso grinned, his own hoof on Ivory's tummy now. "Sweet Symphony, after mia nonna, Symphonia Fantasia."
"That's, like, a lovely name," Insipid said with a nod. She then cleared her throat. "Well, um… I don't want to take up any more of your time together, but like, before I go, I wanted to say that Chantilly Lace and Peaked Lapel say 'hello'."
Ivory's eyebrows shot up. "Oh la la, Lace and Lapel? Are you friends with them?"
"Oh yeah, they're really good friends with me, and I even model fashion for their company, Lovers' Lane," Insipid said, relieved that she was able to slam-dunk the lead-in to this part of the discussion. She'd learned well from Curaçao on how to direct conversations. "They're super awesome. I love working for them!"
"How are they doing? They are still together then, oui? I know we did not get to attend their wedding, quel dommage."
"Yup! Still married and going strong."
Ivory grinned. "And they have foals of their own by now, oui?"
"Oh, no, they don't have any kids," Insipid replied. She tapped her chin. "Y'know, I never asked why, actually, but that's more, like, because it's not polite and junk. My mentor Rarity told me allll about the proper way to talk to another mare about having or not having foals, and the best piece of advice she told me about asking questions was, like, 'just don't'."
"Aha, a wise mare this Rarity must be."
"She's the absolute best!"
Ivory gave Insipid a bright smile. "Well! A fashionable mare that is close to Lace and Lapel and Lockwood is a mare I would like to know very much, oui?" She motioned for one of the empty seats at their table. "Our darling Jewel is playing with the other young ponies, so why don't you take a seat, dear? I would love to hear more about you."
Insipid felt her heart skip a beat. This was everything she'd been waiting for since getting that invitation. She gave Ivory a grin, a nod, and then pulled up the seat. "I would love to, Missus Charm. Cha."
*****
Gray sighed and leaned against the wall far to the side of the dining hall, away from most of the other wedding guests. Subtly signaling to Flathoof that she wanted to talk alone was relatively easy, and he soon joined her over here without so much as an ounce of fuss. Once he did, they'd shared a long, loving kiss, longer than any that Gray remembered sharing with him before, enough that they had to take a moment to breathe and collect themselves afterwards.
"So, how have you been?" she asked, taking a sip from her glass of spiked punch to collect her wits.
He gave her a little smile, then looked out at the crowd towards were his parents were busy dancing out on the dance floor. "I'll be honest, I never thought things would ever get better for me and my family. But in just a month or so, we've been… well, happier than I think I've ever seen any of us. This move was probably the best thing that could've happened to the family."
"I'm glad to hear that. You guys deserve it after all you've put up with," she said, looking at the floor, still hurting from not being there with them when it happened.
"Dad's loving his new job," he continued. "Says that it feels more fulfilling to him to be making parts for things that are helping ponies rather than weapons for hurting them. I don't think he even cares if he gets promoted or not. The pay's good, the hours are good. He's been spending more time with the family than he did before even Pattycake was born.
"Mom's been enjoying the chance to just… be a mom. To not have to constantly worry about providing for any of us and to just be there to love everypony and care about them. She doesn't like the time she spends alone, though, but now she's trying to figure out how to use that time to do things she enjoys." He chuckled. "I think she's planning on joining a book club."
"A book club? Really?" she chuckled, picturing the slightly chubby older mare sitting down with tea and cakes and gushing about a book to other moms. "Well hey, everypony's gotta have a hobby, right?"
"Heh, eeyup." He tilted his head towards the table where Thickhoof was sitting. His brother was still in a wheelchair, but he looked noticeably brighter than Gray had ever seen him. "Blackburn wanted to rush Thickhoof's appointments through, y'know. He told her not to worry about it, that he'd wait. Said he'd already spent years in the wheelchair, so what was a few extra weeks?"
"That's nice of him. Didn't want to make other ponies wait?"
"Pretty much. But he's going in for preliminary treatments next week, and if all goes well the doctors say that he'll be walking again in two or three months." He grinned. "I saw the prosthetics myself. Mighty fancy stuff, kind of like how the AMP Trooper limbs look. Makes me wonder if they repurpose them.
"And Shorthoof, boy, let me tell you, that kid loves it here. Not just that, but even though we were only down south for an hour at best, that's all he talks about. Green fields, blue skies." He shook his head, still smiling. "Mom's already looking into potential farming schools or something in Newhaven for when he gets older, but hopes to find something closer."
She raised an eyebrow. "Farming? Like what Applejack does for a living?"
"Eeyup." Flathoof sighed and looked at the ceiling wistfully. "I gotta come clean with them eventually, somehow. The kid's got this idea in his head that he's gonna work on Applejack's farm someday and be her best worker and everything. It's gonna break his heart when he finds out he can't."
"Sounds to me like your little brother has a crush," Gray chuckled.
"Probably. A little young to get his hopes up, though, and AJ would probably turn him down anyway since he reminds her of her sister. But it's still cute."
He then smirked and nodded his head towards Pattycake, who was seated at the family table with her eyes locked towards Her Majesty's table, where Crossfire was seated alone and practically stuffing his face instead of dancing with anypony.
"Speaking of which," he said, "my sister's got it bad for that one there. I've never seen her fawn over a stallion like this before."
Gray tilted her head to glance between Crossfire and Pattycake, then gave a half-hearted shrug and drank from her punch again. "Yeah, but I get it."
"Oh?"
"I mean, just on looks alone I can see why she's into him. If you dig hunks, he's the hunkiest guy in the room. Velvet's already made a pass at him, y'know? I didn't see how it went but she sounded disappointed afterwards." She then squinted and stared at Crossfire pushing his empty plate aside and grabbing a fresh one before starting to eat some more.
Flathoof turned to watch the display as well, then snickered lightly. "Sheesh, where does he even put it all?"
"With the way he's practically making out with that plate, I'd say your sister has a shot with him if she just smothers herself in gravy or something and sees how things play out," Gray said, completely straight-faced.
"Ha! That might just work. I'll tell her it was your idea, though."
"How about you?" she asked. "How've you been?"
"Personally, I've been… pretty good, actually," Flathoof said with a nod. "Being in the militia's not quite the same as being a cop up north. I don't actually have to worry about patrolling since ponies are quick to report things in, and the things we deal with here are so… petty. The most serious thing I've seen all week was a pony arguing that a cashier had short-changed him."
Gray raised an eyebrow. "They call the militia for that?"
"Well, what else are we gonna do all day? Sit on our asses and watch TV?" Flathoof shrugged. "It was an easy fix, anyway, barely an inconvenience. The laws and rules around here are simple, so solving problems is simple. Mostly just comes down to negotiating and compromising. I actually spend the majority of my time running drills otherwise."
Gray eyed Flathoof's muscular form which practically strained to get out of his tuxedo. He was bigger now than he had been when he left, big enough that it was noticeable. Come to think of it, most of the earth pony guards and soldiers she'd seen were in the same ballpark from a fitness standpoint. This place should practically be heaven for Velvet… and she could admit she'd let her eyes drift now and then until the wedding started and she saw Flathoof in his tux.
Flathoof, though, topped them all in her opinion. Even Crossfire, who was actually bigger by a respectable amount, didn't hold a candle to her Flathoof. She didn't want to admit that she'd been staring at him through the entire wedding ceremony. She hoped that none of her sisters had noticed, but felt confident she could play it off since, as the Best Stallion, he was close enough to the main event that she'd be looking in his direction anyway.
"Gray? You alright?" he asked.
She blinked. "Hmm?"
"I asked you how you've been doing. You kind of went… quiet. Is something wrong?"
She blushed, embarrassed that she'd been staring at him again and losing track of herself, so she quickly downed some punch. "No, nothing. Nothing's wrong. And, um… I've been fine, I guess. It's a lot quieter up north now that I'm at home all the time."
"You don't get outside much these days, I take it?"
She shook her head. "Nah. The only reason I ever left the tower was to… spend time with you, actually. Now I just kind of spend my whole day in the tower's gym."
"Well, you certainly look like it, especially in that dress," he said, squeezing her leg gently. "Wow! You could bench press an airship with legs like that. I don't even think you need your 'abilities' to do the kind of things I've seen you do anymore."
Gray rubbed her leg in the spot he'd touched, a little disappointed that the touch had been so fleeting. She'd never admit it to anypony—she had a hard time admitting it to herself—but she wanted Flathoof to touch her all over, to feel his naked muscles against hers. She wasn't the thirsty sort like Velvet was, but damn it all if she didn't want him.
"Thanks…" she muttered.
"Eeyup, I bet if we ever saw Applejack again, she'd be pretty jealous," he said with a jovial smirk. "I'd love to see you two hoof-wrestle again. No powers this time. Just some raw mare-on-mare action." He paused, then cleared his throat, his cheeks redder than normal. "That… that came out wrong."
"Hmm… wishful thinking…"
There was a moment of long silence between the two of them, until Flathoof stepped closer so they were face-to-face. "I do miss you. You know that, right?" he said softly.
She weakly nodded. "Sorry. I just… things are so different now and a lot of stuff is moving really fast back home. I don't know what to do about it, but it's a lot for me to take in. I wasn't expecting any of it. I didn't get a say in how things went down. I just…" She let out a long breath. "I need time…"
He placed his hoof on her chest. "Take all the time you need, okay? You gave me time to come to terms with things once, it's only fair to give you the same. I don't want to rush you into anything." He paused, then pressed his forehead against hers. "Just know that… I'll support your decision, whatever that might be."
"Thank you…" she murmured, savoring the moment of closeness while it lasted.
*****
Dawn glanced out towards the rest of the wedding guests as they enjoyed themselves, content with staying exactly where she was, at one of the round tables with nopony to disturb her. She'd only eaten a single plate of food and partaken in what little nonalcoholic beverages that were being served, figuring that becoming intoxicated at the queen's wedding was a suicidal political move considering how tenuous the peace proposal was currently.
Director Underhoof's "Aye" vote had been hard won, but the battle was far from over; the ceasefire was moving forward, but official peace was likely years away if Treasurer Vendetta had anything to say about it. It aggravated her immensely that he could stymie her efforts to any degree. Now she had to contend with Queen Blackburn and her Council once again, but would have to begin doing so openly; this would be her last secret visit and had been tremendously difficult to arrange.
Luckily, she wasn't entirely alone at the table, stewing in her own aggravation.
"I would like to reiterate how pleasant it is to share your company again, Winter," she said, turning slightly to glance at the fellow unicorn mare. "I must also apologize once more for failing to maintain contact with you. You are a prohibitively challenging mare to track down."
Winter took a long sip of beer from what was her third bottle of the evening, then grunted and shrugged. "Crikey, this again. Look, it's no trouble at all, Dawn. Really. I've got work to do, you've got work to do; we're both extraordinarily busy mares that have better things to do than keeping in contact with a friendly acquaintance from almost a year ago that has nothin' to do with our work."
"Be that as it may—"
"Dawn, mate, really. No hard feelin's."
Dawn tilted her head briefly. "If you truly take no issue with the situation, then I suppose I need not exacerbate it with my own concerns." She shook her head. "But, seeing as we can share one another's company for the time being, might I inquire as to your activities as of late? You are certainly aware of the machinations that I have been involved with this past year."
"Ya know I can't speak openly about my work—"
"I do not require intricate details."
"Ugh, fine. It's been a right pain in my ass dealin' with rifts lately. When we first met, we were in the eye of a 'storm' that was passin' through the Void, yeah? Well, we left that eye a few months after your dear old dad changed the status quo, and it's been fucky ever since. I could barely handle the first few months."
Dawn glanced over towards the table where the younger wedding guests were seated, since it seemed like a good idea apparently to let the young colts and fillies engage with one another. Seeing as this age group included even teenage fillies like the daughter of Virtuoso, it seemed ill-planned at best. One among the group was the filly that Winter had brought along, Hourglass.
"Could it be that providing room and board to a young ward like Hourglass simply aggravates the issue further?" Dawn asked. "Surely it can be no simple matter providing care for a young filly while also participating in your unique line of work?"
"What? Oh, ya mean Hourglass?" Winter brushed the thought away with her hoof. "Nah, that's a different kettle of fish altogether. After the storm passed through, HQ determined that it was high time I began trainin' my replacement. Normally I could've argued for a delay, but… I just didn't feel like it. So here we are."
Dawn smiled. "Ah, so she is less your ward and more your apprentice, would that be accurate?"
"Yeah, that'd be accurate." Winter shrugged and looked right at Dawn with a smile. "To be honest, the main reason I didn't argue against taking my apprentice so early is because she was available, in particular. We used to be friends, once… a long time ago."
"I do not follow."
"Eh? Oh, that's right, I never told ya, I told—" Winter paused, then grunted and looked away from Dawn again, upset. "Long story, but we knew each other back before I got taken in by my mentor some fifteen years ago. I'm surprised nopony picked her up before then, but I guess she's just a little… different. Her situation was unique.."
Dawn tilted her head. "Fifteen years ago, you say? Impossible. That filly cannot be older than eight years of age."
"Ah, yeah, but time passes differently at Chronomancer HQ. Comes with the territory of not being on any specific plane of existence."
"I am most curious as to how such an effect manifests and functions."
"I ain't gonna get into an intellectual discussion with ya on the mechanics of a construct that, frankly, even I have trouble understandin' at times," huffed Winter. "The theoreticals of time distillation makes me want to just grab a drink and forget it, which is why I do field work instead of stayin' there."
Dawn wrinkled her nose. "Very well." She cleared her throat. "Might I inquire then as to the manner of training you are availing to your apprentice? I admit that I never took the proper interest in your work during our time together studying with Twilight, and I must apologize."
Winter winced slightly at that for some reason, then said, "Mostly trainin' her in the basics of field work. Basic-level survival trainin', like how to pitch a tent and start a campfire. Basic-level self-defense—no spellwork just yet."
"Not teaching her spellwork at such a young age seems ill-advised—"
"If she wasn't a unicorn, I couldn't teach her magic anyway," Winter interjected. "I've got standards to follow."
"Ah, an acceptable circumstance, I suppose."
"Once she finishes her first rounds of trainin' in about oh, sixish years, she'll head to HQ to take advanced courses for a week in our time, then come back and be ready to move forward into the job." Winter sighed and leaned back in her seat. "I'll retire a few years after that. Good old borin' retirement…"
"A complicated procedure," Dawn mused.
Winter turned to look at Dawn, straight-faced as good be. "Can't be any more complicated than tryin' to make peace between two cities that've been at war for decades, eh?"
Dawn chuckled and looked at Winter like the old comrades they had once been. "No, I suppose not."
Winter stared at Dawn for a long moment, right into her eyes in fact, then snorted and slumped back into her chair.
This left Dawn feeling quite perplexed. "Winter… might I inquire as to why you become so apprehensive when you look at me so closely? Nopony has informed me of a disfigurement that might elicit such a reaction, so if there is one, I would appreciate being informed."
Winter paused a long moment, then took a long swig of her beer, finishing the glass. "It's your fuckin' eyes…"
"My eyes? Is there some issue—"
"They look just like hers…" Winter sighed, looking away from Dawn entirely now. "Every last fuckin' detail, down to the little imperfection in her right pupil."
Dawn tilted her head. "Whose eyes do you mean?"
"Twilight's…"
"Ah, yes, now I understand. My sisters and I greatly differ in physical appearance from Twilight and her friends, but our eyes are identical. Doctor Blutsauger explained to me that it was an unforeseen byproduct of our cloning procedure. I believe he attempted to put a philosophical spin on the situation: 'The eyes are a window into the soul'."
Winter snorted in apparent disagreement. "What, like you and Twilight share the same soul?"
"That is one interpretation—"
"Let me tell ya somethin', Dawn," Winter said, her voice hard and low. "You are nothin' like Twilight Sparkle. Ya might share her DNA, ya might be smart like her, and ya might even be as gifted magically as she is, maybe more. But I've seen the kind of mare you are, Dawn… and you ain't Twilight Sparkle."
Dawn frowned, unsure what to make of the statement. "I never attempted to directly compare myself to Twilight, Winter."
"Good. Keep it that way." Winter then flagged down a waiter to bring her another beer and remained quiet otherwise.
Dawn was left without words, an odd conundrum if there ever was one. What was it about Twilight that got Winter so riled up? She felt it better not to ask, lest she upset her comrade further, but it still bothered her. She wondered if Curaçao might have an answer, seeing as she had been able to maintain some semblance of contact with Winter all these months. Perhaps they had spoken at some point?
Either way, Dawn was just glad to let the conversation end there if Winter didn't want it to continue, but she at least posed a question or two about what the Wastelands were like; Havoc's opinion was unreliable and she desired more information.
Besides, she had more important tasks to focus on anyway, like figuring out how to ensure that Treasurer Vendetta would not prove a further thorn in her side at future Committee meetings. This peace proposal was too important to let it be stymied by some egotistical, bit-pinching, inconsistent bureaucrat, even one with his reputation. Her father wouldn't allow such opposition to his plans, and neither would she.
There simply had to be a way to make him see reason.
*****
Once the dancing portion of the evening had finished, desserts and snacks were provided to the wedding guests via a catering table so that everypony could get their preferred share of the wide selection that was available. This was after the royal couple cut the first slices of wedding cake and started passing those out to everypony; the cake was delicious, incidentally, a luscious marble cake with vanilla frosting, tall and wide enough that all of the guests could get a generously-sized slice.
Velvet had, of course, partaken in a slice of the wedding cake, and had thoroughly enjoyed it. It certainly made up for what was otherwise a rather uneventful eventful evening. Sure, okay, this was probably the most important event she had ever been invited to from a purely objective standpoint. Royal weddings tended to be pretty crucial events to attend when your sister was trying to schmooze her way into the queen's good graces.
However, it was uneventful purely from Velvet's personal perspective, and that was what mattered the most to her now that the bride and groom were hitched and she no longer needed to have much investment in the affair beyond just being on her best behavior. Which was really, really hard, she had to say, seeing as there were all these hunky stallions about—in uniform, no less—that she wasn't able to just lure away for some fun. It might spark an incident!
Adding onto the issue was that the two hunkiest hunks in the room both had eyes for… not her. Flathoof was a given, because no matter how thirsty she was for him, she'd never do anything to hurt Gray. The other, Crossfire, was almost comically oblivious to her advances, just giving polite responses to all of her attempts at subtle and not-so-subtle innuendo and going back to his food. What did a mare have to do, smother herself in gravy?
She'd done weirder things, honestly.
So, it was with a heavy heart and an aching longing in her loins that Velvet sauntered over to the catering table to partake in some of the spiked punch and provided desserts, especially the delectable selection of cookies.
After filling her plate and cup, she sat at an empty table nearby and figured she could observe the rest of the crowd for a little while. It was all she could do to keep her mind off of things. The instant she returned home, she'd have to crack open her little black book and make up for the lamest excuse for a vacation she'd ever taken.
Also the first vacation she'd ever taken, so… yeah, natch.
"How's the party?" asked somepony from behind her.
She turned to see a stallion, a tall pegasus with large wings in a crisp tuxedo. She was sure she saw him talking with the bride and groom at some point during the earlier stages of the evening. He must have had a good connection with the pair, which meant he was important in some capacity. Nothing like being on the Council—Dawn would've told her—but something important nonetheless.
She just needed to recall his name.
"Meh," Velvet responded as she took a drink of punch. "Food's good, music's good, the open bar is nice, but I'm not really feeling the lovey-dovey atmosphere."
The stallion tilted his head and grinned. "Well, three out of four ain't all that bad, I'd say." he offered her his hoof. "I don't think we've met. Captain Briarthorn of the Hope's Point Air Force."
"Red Velvet, of… being an important pony's sister," she replied with a grin of her own.
"Ooh, Red Velvet, huh? That's pretty high on my dessert tier list, I've gotta say," he said as he grabbed a plate from the table and placed some cookies on it.
Velvet rolled her eyes. "Yeah yeah, I haven't heard that one be—" She paused and watched him load his plate for a moment. "Wait, 'tier list'?"
He looked back at her just as took a bite of a cookie. "Mmhmm." He swallowed. "Currently ranking just below carrot cake, key lime pie, and like… maybe these snickerdoodles here." He paused, then giggled into his hoof, smothering what would have been a spray of crumbs from the eponymous cookie. "Seriously, who names these things? This cookie is a snickerdoodle. Where do they come up with this stuff?"
Velvet blinked, then tilted her head, intrigued all of a sudden. "So, I'm guessing since you're a captain, that means you pilot one of the fancy ships you folks employ?'
"Mmm, naturally! Got my own ship and everything," he said, taking a cup and filling it with punch. "She's a real beaut', my Thunder." He paused, and took a sip of his punch. His lips pursed. "It's a good thing there's an open bar. This punch is weak. Guess how many glasses of this I've had."
Velvet bit her tongue in thought. "Twelve."
"Close! This is thirteen. Baker's dozen for luck, or something. But I am barely getting a buzz on this… prom night special. Had to make several passes 'round Mojito's bench and get real drinks. Want one? The guy knows how to shake and not stir."
Velvet squinted at him. This was pretty direct, more than what she was used to. A nice change of pace, actually.
"What? Can't be worse than sitting here waiting for a thrill." He didn't smile. Not with his mouth, anyway, but his eyes.
She sighed dramatically. "Well, when you put it like that, Mister Genre-Savvy."
"Be right back, Miss Point-of-View Character."
Velvet watched as the bizarre stallion did an extremely quick orbit around the room, affably using his wings to slap the backs of friends, laughing loudly at their jokes and— did he just let that wing cop a feel? A mare in a cocktail dress looked around, startled, but Briarthorn had already moved on. He slid over to the bar, and with the very wing that had committed the act performed a surprisingly elaborate gesture to the bartender—Mojito, Velvet guessed—who rolled his eyes and procured, with all due speed, two tall mixed drinks.
Once he had the drinks it was, in a sense, all business. He beelined back to the table, and this time actually sat down across from her, sliding her the drink.
"You look like a lady who could use a little kick but doesn't mind a little pageantry on the way down," he said. "I mean, you're here, right?"
Velvet grimaced. "I'm definitely here." She took the glass and had a small, experimental sip. She paused.
The stallion was grinning at her, his drink untouched. "Verdict?"
She took a longer, more relaxed gulp. "You're not kidding about wanting a stronger drink. This stuff could be used as paint thinner. Delicious paint thinner, though."
"Hey, if this is turpentine, sign me up for art class, am I right?"
"It's like… tropical fruit. Mango? But the sheer potency of the alcohol and yet, there's something else there." Another sip. This was definitely top-tier stuff, yessir.
He started on his own drink. "Measured Romantique Rum, my dear. The alcohol is strong, but it never loses that molasses tinge. Mixed with a few spices, it kicks funny all the way down."
Velvet chuckled, but then paused. "Right, so it's good, but… why are we getting this plastered again? You're not that bad looking, you know."
"Ah, well, pilots get free booze; it's a whole thing."
Velvet clicked her tongue. "Very nice, but… open bar. Mojito would've given me something like this anyway. You didn't answer my question, flyboy."
"Because I'm dodging it," Briarthorn said in mock anger, before his tone became gentle and subdued. "I mean… you get it a little bit, right? The stress of this whole…" Here his tone became briefly bitter: "Affair. It weighs on you, y'know? Physically and psychologically."
"Ooh, psychologically? There's a story there." Velvet sipped from her drink and motioned for him to continue. "Go on, spill."
Briarthorn eyed his drink briefly, then glanced at the marble tiles. "I dunno, they just waxed this floor."
Velvet snorted once, genuinely amused. It was rare to find a stallion that tickled her funny bone.
He grinned briefly, and she felt a thrill from his smile at having made her laugh; but suddenly his expression became noticeably soured. He glanced over towards the royal couple seated at their table, chatting away with Crossfire and Gadget. "It's like this: me and the queen used to be a thing back when she was just a princess. An item, if you will. A real couple o' hormonal teenagers."
Velvet's eyes widened slightly. This was too juicy to ignore. "Re-he-he-heally? You and Her Majesty used to date? Color me impressed."
"Hey, I was just as surprised as you when it all started. Imagine you're me, a wide-eyed youth with stars in his eyes, and the princess herself asks you out on a date. That's some fairytale stuff right there, right out of a storybook with the color pictures and everything." He shook his head and chuckled. "Good times."
"Let me guess: things didn't work out in the end?"
Briarthorn tilted his head. "That's the thing: they did… and then the wedding happened."
"Huh?"
"Well, y'see, we were thick as thieves, Her Majesty and me. We taught each other everything about each other." He looked vaguely nostalgic. "She'd do this 'spell-your-name' thing with her tongue…" He paused. "Anyway! Sorry, not the point! Well, things were going pretty good, I figured. She spent a lot of time out of the city, so she wanted to make our relationship open."
Velvet rolled her eyes. "Ah, I see where this is going. You didn't agree?"
He blinked, genuinely confused. "What? Oh no, I was all for it. She didn't want either of us to hold onto anything too serious since we were always so far apart." He glanced towards the royal couple's table and sighed. "I mean… we loved each other. We did. We do. But we were never… in love. Not together. Together, together. Maybe we could have been, but…"
As he began to trail off, Velvet interrupted: "So, okay… then what's the problem? Believe me, I know all the rules about open relationships. I'm in my fair share of 'em at the moment, and we all understand that it's purely physical between us."
"Were any of those closer than that beforehand?"
"Naw, I don't believe in tying myself to a single stallion. I mean, unless it's rope-related, but that's something different altogether," she said matter-of-factly, starting right at him and sipping her drink as she did so.
He raised an eyebrow, his mouth curling a little bit. "So, I didn't know that the entire time we were apart, she was in the process of falling in love with our future king, y'know? I mean, I want to be more upset about it, but… how can I be?" He gestured at the royal couple in exasperation. "I still love her. And the grown-up thing to do is to love that she got married."
Velvet watched him for a long moment, saying nothing, and Briarthorn absently went on.
"I mean… look at those two!" he exclaimed. "Perfectly perfect for one another, like… like a two-piece puzzle. Yeah."
"A two-piece puzzle sounds pretty boring, if you ask me."
He nodded sagely. "Ah, but some ponies like boring."
"Do you?"
He snorted loudly. "Hell no, boring is boring."
Velvet nodded back then took a final drink, draining her glass. "So, question for ya."
He copied her posture exactly; his drink hit the table, empty. "Shoot."
"You seem to know your way around here pretty well, so, is there anywhere we can sneak off to for a quick fuck? I don't feel like waiting until after the party."
He didn't miss a beat. "Oh sure, I know a few places."
"Wonderful," she said as they both rose from the table simultaneously, their rhythm already beginning to synchronize, a wonderful rarity that made her just a little giddy. "'Cause if I have to go one more chapter without a confirmed score, I'm gonna blow a gasket."
"Really? Well, then let's end it with a tease!"
"Fine, fine. Now… how about you teach me how to spell my name?"