//------------------------------// // 4. Running Interference // Story: At the Grand Galloping Gala // by RainbowDoubleDash //------------------------------// Trixie collected her wits just as the pegasus mare reached her – this couldn’t possibly be Fluttershy, not from the way she looked, nor more importantly carried herself. “Miss Lulamoon,” she said, sounding exceptionally cross. “Do you know who I am?” Trixie rifled through her knowledge of ponies of the Night Court. This time six months ago, she probably would have been able to name all two-hundred forty three nobles within it on sight, but after six months in Ponyville, she was getting a little rusty. “No,” she said. She had almost prefaced that with I’m sorry, but frankly at this point she was growing more than a little exasperated with this trip. The pegasus didn’t seem to mind. “Duchess Fragrant Posey,” she said. “I am the head of the Royal Ministry of Weather Management, and I am here with a demand: leave my niece alone.” Trixie stared, as her memory was jogged. Posey…weather magnates from Cloudsdale. Fragrant Posey was the sister to Thunderous Posey, who owned a majority of the weather factory and, in essence, controlled weather production throughout Equestria. She blinked a few times when she came up with blanks for any other ponies named Posey, however, at least ones that she knew. “Who?” “My niece,” Fragrant clarified. “Fluttering Posey. I have twice heard you mentioned in letter wrote to me by her, and it was not in a flattering light.” Trixie shook her head. “I don’t even know who you’re talking about – ” “Please, Miss Lulamoon, do not lie. I know it was you who threatened to drag her from her home on the Longest Night, and she got a very good look at you when you stole one of her chickens, and then returned it a week later with the poor thing’s back plucked!” The duchess leaned in close. “I don’t know what intimidations you are trying to play with my family, but – ” “Fluttershy?” Trixie asked suddenly as enlightenment struck. The Duchess leaned away. “Ooh…I’ve always hated that nickname,” she seethed slightly. “That Rainbow Dash gave it to her. Fluttering likes it, I suppose, but it seems so insulting…but yes, Fluttering is my niece.” Trixie’s eyes widened. “Fluttershy’s real name is Fluttering Posey?” Trixie demanded. First Twilight turned out to be a Starlight…now Fluttershy was a Posey? What was next? Were Flim and Flam going to show up and reveal themselves to be second cousins to Wallflower? Was Gilda going to return as the heir apparent to a restored Griffin Empire? How badly could she have possibly screwed up? Fragrant glared at Trixie. “Indeed,” she said, looking Trixie up and down. “So please, Miss Lulamoon. Fluttering detests the Night Court and wants nothing to do with it. Leave her alone, or I am afraid I will have to take steps to protect my family.” The higher, less vindictive side of Trixie’s mind had shut down in shock, which was probably not a good thing. “Like what?” she demanded. “Somepony’s already printed lies about me in the newspaper! My home is already literally falling apart! Night Light already wants my blood! What could you possibly do? I guess my own family hasn’t been touched yet…you going to go after them? Go after my cousins? My aunt and uncle?” Fragrant’s own eyes grew wide. “I beg your pardon?” She demanded. “My life has been going straight into the sun ever since I became a Representative! If it’s not Greengrass trying to screw over my friends, it’s Night Light starving Ponyvlle, and somepony has been printing lies about me in the newspaper, bet that’s Greengrass too…or was that you? Giving me a taste of what you’d do if I didn’t listen to you?” Trixie stomped up to Fragrant. “For your information, Duchess, Fluttershy and I are friends!” Fragrant blinked a few times at that. “What?” she asked. Trixie’s higher brain grabbed the reins again, and pulled her back. She let out an exhausted sigh. “Last month,” she said. “Me and my friend Carrot Top have this monthly spa appointment. And Carrot Top is friends with Fluttershy and recently managed to convince Fluttershy to go to the spa too. But Carrot Top isn’t exactly swimming in cash, so she arranged things for me and Fluttershy to meet there, turn it into a big spa party thing. We got to talking – well, okay, I did most of the talking – and I apologized for scaring her at the Longest Night, which I didn’t mean to do, and for stealing her chicken, which I had a really good but very private reason for.” Trixie shuffled in place. “Maybe 'friend' is too strong a word…but I don’t think she hates me. And I don’t hate her. I didn’t even know she was a Posey!” Fragrant had one hoof to her mouth and her wings slightly flared as she weighed Trixie’s words. “I haven’t heard from her for a few months…” she mused. “Can you prove this, Miss Lulamoon?” Trixie opened her mouth to attempt to do just that, when the two were suddenly jointed by a white earth pony mare with white hair, though despite her coat colors, she actually looked relatively young. She seemed to have almost materialized from nowhere, despite Fragrant and Trixie standing in the middle of a relatively open courtyard, where they should have easily noticed her approach. “Begging your pardon, Miss Lulamoon, Duchess Posey,” the earth pony said, offering a bow of respect to the latter. “But I was sent by Duke Greengrass. An important matter has come up concerning the weather patterns in Caneighda, and he needs to see you immediately.” Trixie’s face soured at the name Greengrass. To her surprise, so did Fragrant’s, though only for a moment. “Miss…Notary, isn’t it?” Fragrant asked. “I will be along presently, then.” “Thank-you, Duchess,” Notary said with another respectful bow. She kept her gaze carefully on Fragrant, not making eye contact at all with Trixie. Fragrant, meanwhile, turned back to Trixie. “It is possible that I was in error, Miss Lulamoon,” she said. “If that is the case, then I apologize. But I demand an apology in return for your saying that I would resort to the same base tactics that I was wrongly accusing you of. When I said that I would take steps, I meant only that I would ask Princess Luna to intervene if it proved necessary.” Trixie almost considered not giving her one out of spite, but decided that she had enough enemies in the Court already – she didn’t need another one on top of that, least of all one who had been, from the looks of things, only trying to defend her family, and who seemed eminently more reasonable than Night Light or Shining Armor on the matter. “I’m sorry, Duchess,” she said, bowing her head. Fragrant nodded in acknowledgement of it, before trotting off, Notary in tow. Trixie let out a long sigh. She made a point of not wondering what could go wrong next. --- “What are you doing, Duke?” Duke Greengrass paused in the middle of his speech to Fragrant Posey. Given that it was entirely improvised, he didn’t mind the pause: though he thought he was winging it well enough, he could use it to gather his thoughts. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I thought I had explained that in the beginning. Caneighda has a relatively low pegasus population, you see, so our weather is a bit more free than is normal in Equestria. I was hoping that perhaps you could help me put together a program to incentivize pegasi moving to the – ” Fragrant shook her head. “That is not what I mean. I’m referring to Representative Lulamoon.” Greengrass offered a slightly confused stare. “I had heard she was in Canterlot,” he ventured, “but I’m not certain what you’re talking about.” Fragrant stared hard at Greengrass. “I ran into her,” she said. “In the castle Courtyard. Interestingly I might not have encountered her at all, had I not just been returning from a sudden meeting with Archduke Fisher concerning magical imports to Cloudsdale, a meeting that wasn’t scheduled and which he seemed to have forgotten about, given how unprepared for it he seemed.” Greengrass pursed his lips. The benefit to keeping his office as painstakingly organized as it was, was that he knew where everything was. As soon as Notary had announced the duchess’ arrival for the weather situation in Caneighda, he had trotted right over to his desk and produced all the necessary documents and charts before the pegasus had even made herself comfortable. Notary’s language had even made it clear what the meeting was supposed to be about – it was a situation, which meant it was supposed to be negative, though not to the levels of a crisis. Situations could be interpreted from any set of data that Greengrass had on hoof. “I’m not certain I understand,” he said. Fragrant considered Greengrass for several long moments, before her face softened, and she let out a slight sigh. “Perhaps I am being paranoid,” she said. “I consider one unexpected meeting a week to be unusual…two in one day may have set off some alarm bells.” The duke offered a chuckle. “I can understand that,” he said, though he did not believe her put-on relaxation in the slightest. Fragrant knew about the role he had played in a relatively minor political altercation a few months back – knew, and could not be happy. Necessity required them to work together still, of course, and Fragrant was not one for petty revenge – but on some level, the duchess knew that the Duke was up to something, and simply had not yet finished putting together all the pieces in her head. She had perhaps been hoping for some kind of reaction from the Duke, but he had betrayed none. Their conversation turned back to the weather situation in Caneighda. The duke’s home province really could stand to have more pegasi, though the situation was hardly an emergency by any means, more an inconvenience when the summers tended to last a little longer and burn a little hotter than they were supposed to. The duke had been holding off on fixing the problem until he could use it as a cover for something else, and it had, apparently, just paid off. Notary – his personal assistant – was keeping an eye on Lulamoon at the moment. She had a talent for not being seen when she ought to be, and could make sure that Lulamoon was constantly deflected and bounced one way or another while trying to get to Night Light. Fragrant’s meeting with her had been planned out, to an extent, timed with the archduke, though apparently Fisher wasn’t nearly as good at improvisation as Greengrass was. He made up for it, though, with sheer sway in Equestria Nightly – the unicorn’s castigating of Lulamoon had perhaps been a little heavy-hooved, but there was no denying that it had gotten the job done. Blueblood, meanwhile, had little to contribute to the effort, beyond saying that he’d ‘make some calls,’ whatever that meant. Between Fisher’s newspaper article and Notary’s deflections, Lulamoon would be kept going round and round Canterlot all night, never actually reaching Night Light. By the end of it, she would be angry, frustrated, and probably more than a little desperate – just as planned. --- Trixie’s not thinking about how things could get worse didn’t help, of course. What should have been all of a five-minute walk somehow transformed into an epic quest of tedium. Halls were closed for repair. Tour groups were blocking her progress. Twice she ran into ponies who had heard about the situation in Ponyville and wanted to offer their condolences, that they represented special interest groups who would love to help foot the bill, and would she please just sign here? Trixie had to point out to them that, as a Representative, she didn’t have the authority to sign anything. She still made a note of them for Ivory Scroll once she returned to Ponyville. Three times, she ran into “personal friends” of Night Light, who took it upon themselves to stop her and inform her – at great length – how terrible a pony she was. Trixie did her best to take their insults and not get involved in shouting matches with them. She even succeeded on her first try. The latter two…somewhat less so. At great length, in spite of the universe itself, it seemed, trying to impede her, she finally managed to find the office of Night Light, steel herself, and enter. At last – the end was in sight! She had thought. “How does the Viceory 'being out' prevent me from making an appointment to see him?” Trixie demanded of the gray unicorn stallion that served as the viceroy’s assistant. Every member of the Night Court had their own small – or not-so-small, depending on how much pull they had – office within the greater Canterlot Castle, which was really more like a small settlement in and of itself with a dozen satellite structures clustered around the castle proper. Night Light’s office appeared to be roughly the size of a modest apartment, from what little of it Trixie could see from its foyer, where the gray unicorn was sitting behind a desk overloaded with paperwork. His mane was nearly black, while his cutie mark was obscured by the desk he sat behind. The unicorn shrugged. “Without the viceroy being here,” he said, “I cannot know, Miss Lulamoon, when he’d want to place a meeting with you.” “He has a schedule. I can see it,” Trixie pointed out, eyeing the planner that was, in fact, sitting open in front of the gray unicorn. “He has to have open slots in it for unexpected meetings.” Her eyes narrowed. “I can see those, too.” The gray unicorn made no effort to conceal the planner. “Just so,” he said, “the viceroy is very particular about his spare time, Miss Lulamoon. There is nothing I can do.” Trixie glared at the unicorn. The unicorn stared back, though not particularly maliciously. At length, Trixie let out a long, angry sigh. “Fine,” she hissed. Her horn glowed, and she telekinetically grabbed a quill from the unicorn’s desk, as well as a sheet of paper. She scribbled down a note, folded it in half, and passed it to the unicorn. “Please see to it that the viceroy gets this.” “Of course, Miss Lulamoon.” Trixie sighed again, stomping from the office. After she had, the gray unicorn stood up, walking to the door of the office and checking down its length. Trixie continued stomping off, and as the unicorn’s horn glowed lavender, he couldn’t detect any kind of magical ruse on her part. The unicorn unfolded the sheet of paper, reading it. To Viceroy Night Light – I am here on behalf of the town of Ponyville to officially request aid from the Royal Emergency Management Ministry. I would like to meet with you at your earliest convenience, and will be stopping by tomorrow at 1 o’clock in order to arrange a meeting. On a personal note, I swear to the Stars that I did not say the things that Equestria Nightly printed. I do not know who quoted me as saying that. I would like to once again apologize for the part I played in the Ursa Minor incident some months ago. Please, do not let an entire town suffer for my mistakes. – Trixie, Night Court Representative of Ponyville “Oh, poor dear,” the gray unicorn said softly, “you’re trying so hard, aren’t you?” The unicorn then trotted over to a nearby closet, opened it, and telekinetically hefted out a unconscious unicorn that was identical to hum in every way save cutie mark – for the unconscious unicorn had an hour glass cutie mark, while the one who’s horn glowed had a cutie mark of a black envelope. The unconscious unicorn was propped up behind the desk, made to look like he had simply fallen asleep, rather than put to sleep with a creative application of magic. “Napping on the job,” the conscious unicorn noted, patting him on the head a few times, then returning to the closet and grabbing his cloak, sliding the note inside. “Not a good way to get ahead in life.” The gray unicorn left the office of Night Light at that and smiling as ‘he’ made sure to get all the way back to the agreed-upon meeting place before dropping ‘his’ disguise: ‘his’ coat becoming white, ‘his’ mane becoming purple, and ‘his’ proportions changing to be more in line with that of a mare than a stallion. Which was just as well: even with her disguise being only an illusion, Zizanie never felt entirely comfortable disguising herself as a stallion. The meeting room was another one of the small side-rooms in Canterlot; this particular one had a window that overlooked the courtyard and, by extension, the city beyond. There was already a white-coated, blond-maned unicorn waiting for Zizanie as she entered. “Done,” she said simply, holding forward the note that Trixie had left behind. Viscount Prince Blueblood smiled brightly. “Excellent!” he said, as he took the note and read it over. He winced. “This will prove an embarrassment for Lulamoon when she shows up tomorrow,” he noted. Zizanie agreed. It was part of why she’d agreed to take this job on such short notice in the first place: a chance to get a personal stab in at Trixie. In her line of work – blackmail, mostly, though she moonlighted in extortion, spying, and occasional larceny – personal vendettas were usually seen as an unnecessary risk. Then again, whoever had come up with that rule had never had to deal with Trixie Lulamoon. “It’s a good thing that Trixie showed up,” Zizanie noted of Blueblood. “I thought that Greengrass’ crony was running interference and would stop her. Not that I’d complain about getting a free meal, mind. Speaking of…?” Blueblood nodded, reaching into his jacket and producing Zizanie’s fee from an inside pocket – a bar of solid platinum, worth several thousand bits. “I had…a feeling,” Blueblood noted. Zizanie suspected that it was much more likely to be luck – good for Blueblood, bad for Trixie – rather than any real skill on Blueblood’s part. His cutie mark of a compass rose did suggest that he had some kind of special talent related to direction, so it was just inside the realm of possibility that he had, in fact, know that Trixie would be able to make her way to her destination – possible, that was, if one didn’t know anything about Blueblood. Zizanie elected to merely slide the platinum bar into her cloak pocket – it was wonderfully weighty – and just nod at Blueblood’s assertion. Skill or luck, he had been right, and Zizanie had been paid, and that was all that mattered. “Pleasure doing business with you,” she said, turning and leaving. --- Duke Greengrass pursed his lips, looking up from the rough draft of the nascent Caneighdian immigration incentive bill, as Notary finished explaining what had happened after several hours of running interference. Despite her best efforts – and they were, in fact, quite impressive, how Notary had managed to arrange pretty much everything but a war breaking out to keep Trixie from Night Light – Trixie had gotten to Night Light’s office. But, it turned out, it hadn’t mattered: Blueblood had hired Zizanie again and ultimately, in a manner of speaking, saved the day. “That…is an unexpected amount of foresight on Blueblood’s part,” Greengrass noted. He thought back to his conversation earlier, with Blueblood and Fisher. Blueblood had never actually agreed with Fisher concerning magic and curses…and had seemed surprisingly well informed about the Ponyville situation, more so than Fisher, in any event. “I suspect I may have underestimated the viscount.” Notary frowned at that. “I doubt that, sir. It’s much more likely that, knowing that Lulamoon had to be stopped, simply fell back to a familiar ally. This is not the first time he has worked with Zizanie.” Greengrass considered carefully. “Probably,” he admitted. “But I think a somewhat more cautious approach around him may be in order. Even a stopped clock is right twice a day; perhaps this is just an example of that in action. Still, I’d hate to think that he grew some additional brain cells now, of all times.” Notary nodded. “Yes, sir. You do still have some leverage over him thanks to the Symphony incident. Perhaps you should put it to use?” “Hmm…” Greengrass considered, weighing out the costs verses the benefits. “After the gala, I think. I don’t want to be running too much at one time and end up tripping over myself. Isolating Lulamoon and bringing her and the Elements over to Fisher, Blueblood, and I is the priority right now.” Notary nodded again. “Yes, sir.” “Where is Lulamoon now?” “Getting a hotel. Her old room is undergoing maintenance – that wasn’t me, sir, it’s part of the regular maintenance schedule. I have rented the room next to hers for Bear to keep an eye on her.” Greengrass frowned at that. Bear was one of his bodyguards, alongside Ox. Their names were well-earned. “A little heavy, don’t you think?” “I told him to watch her only and come and get me if she leaves. Given the nature this operation, I felt that trust was most important than not being noticeable.” Greengrass considered that for a moment, then nodded, grateful that he had hired more than just dumb muscle to be his personal bodyguards. “Valid point. Excellent job today, Notary.” --- Trixie felt more than a little guilty, getting a hotel room when at least a quarter of all the beds in Ponyville were unusable. But the simple fact of the matter was that Canterlot moved according to a different pace from Ponyville, which did not have the nocturnal tendencies of Canterlot. She wasn’t used to staying up all night, and it didn’t help that she’d caught the earliest train to the city, either. Naturally, sleep would not come as her mind went over the day’s events. Between the train station, the newspaper, Shining Armor, running into Fragrant, the dozen problems she had just trying to reach Night Light, and then ultimately it all having been for nothing…she was too depressed to sleep, and her mind too active. It was too much to be coincidence. Somepony was actually out to get her. Manipulating events to keep her from Night Light. But who? As near as Trixie could tell, there were really only two possibilities on that front. The first was Night Light himself, doing everything in his power to avoid Trixie. Such vindictiveness seemed more than possible from the viceroy, but then again, the sheer effort seemed unlikely. If Night Light didn’t want to see Trixie, he could simply not see her. He was a viceroy and she was just a representative, and not even from a major city like Manehattan or Fillydelphia. That left only one real possibility: Duke Greengrass. The duke had been trying to gain control of the Elements for months now, first by trying to manipulate Lyra, then Carrot Top, into situations where they would owe or otherwise be at the mercy of Greengrass. All of Ponyville needing aid must have seemed like a silver platter to him, a chance to apply pressure to Trixie directly, rather than her friends. Trixie had nothing. No friends in the Night Court, no acquaintances, nopony who owed her favors… …all she could do was keep at it. Keep trying to see Night Light. Sheer persistence would eventually outpace anything that was thrown against her, she was sure. She hoped, anyway…