//------------------------------// // Ch2 Alicorn Alarm [edited] // Story: Jake and the kid // by peter //------------------------------// Jake and the Kid Ch2 Alicorn Alarm ************************* Cockatrices are not pleasant creatures. Possibly due to the circumstances of their birth. An egg laid by a rooster, on a dung heap, hatched by a toad. With a childhood like that who wouldn’t end up a bit twisted? Whatever the reason, every single one of the chicken/lizards was just plain nasty. They didn’t like anyone. They most certainly did not tolerate rivals. The only good thing that might be said about them was that they also hated their own kind. Only the nastiest and strongest survived, all others either fled or got stoned in a stare down. As a result, the Everfree Cockatrice was the only one of its kind in the forest. For years it had reveled in the fact that while it was one of the smallest monsters in the forest, all other beasts, no matter how large, gave way before it. They all, without fail, lowered their eyes to the ground and stepped aside whenever they encountered it. The forest was littered with the stone remains of the ones foolish enough to not give it the respect it deserved. That had been then. This was now. Everywhere it went the beasts still stepped aside, but behind its back, it could hear their snickers. They wounded its pride and caused a raging fire of anger to ignite in its lizard belly. The mighty Everfree Cockatrice outstared by a pony. Oh, the indignity. It longed for nothing more than to gain revenge on the filly who had shamed it in front of the entire forest. But if its humiliation caused it to burn for revenge, the thought of facing off against that pale yellow pegasus soon cooled that emotion. It still woke in the middle of the day, cold with sweat, seeing those eyes, those terrible, terrible eyes. The mere sound of a pony’s hooves clopping on stone was enough to send it scrambling for the underbrush. It tried to salve its pride by stoning any monster it could catch unaware. Before it had been content merely to see them turn their eyes aside. Now it did everything in its power to force the creature to meet its deadly gaze. Where before it had snaked through the underbrush, sneaking up on unwary travelers, now it marched straight down the trails it traveled, daring anyone to get in its way. It had even gone so far as the claim the old royal palace as its personal roost. Not that it could actually enter the building. But it could stake out the portion of the forest the castle stood on and as far as it was concerned it was the same as being in control of the old palace. In doing so, it was pretty much declaring itself ruler of the Everfree forest. It was about to find out that the forest did not take kindly to would-be rulers, and that its sense of humor was of the low variety. The Cockatrice was on the fringes of the old palace strutting down the cracked surface of the old royal highway when a bright light in front of it caused it to blink and turn away from the glow for a moment. It squinted as it twisted its head to the side, trying to get a look at what was happening. The light grew brighter and brighter until it was forced to close its tear flooded eyes. The light grew still brighter till the Cockatrice could see the red veins running through its eyelids. Magical energy started to resonate through its body and it could feel the ground itself trembling. Just when it thought that the end was here, the entire world seemed to take a breath and go utterly still. Tentatively the Cockatrice removed the wing it had been using to shelter its eyes and blinked to clear the tears away. It took an involuntary step back as a huge dark shadow came into focus, startling it. As the shape stepped forward it resolved into the form of a pony. A very large, very black, pony, but a pony nonetheless. Angered at once again flinching in the face of something that should be its proper prey, it forgot its newly learned fear and set itself in the middle of the road as it glared with burning red eyes at the oversized lummox of a pony. There was going to be a new ornament decorating its palace this night. Only, the pony kept coming, getting bigger and bigger with each step. The Cockatrice craned its head back to maintain eye contact, and at the last moment, realized with a thrill of terror that the brute had its eyes closed. Before it could escape the oncoming avalanche of equine flesh, a hoof bigger than its entire upper body swung forward and sent the chicken/lizard sprawling across the cracked paving stones. ‟Bwakkkkkkk!” The cockatrice cried out in dismay, rolling this way and that to avoid the thumping hooves that stamped the road all around it. Its tail was flattened, one toe got smashed, it was sent tumbling again and again as the pony kicked it further and further down the road. But, finally, it escaped as the beast passed over it and it heaved a weak sigh of relief. It started to get back onto its wobbly legs when a hissing sound caused it to turn around. Its eyes just had time to go very wide when the steel-clad runner on the sledge being dragged by the pony ran over it. The Cockatrice gave a despairing ‟Bywakkkuhhhhhhhh,” as it was rolled over and over under the heavyweight until at last the runner passed all the way over it and left it lying in the middle of the road, battered and bruised. Slowly it crawled into the underbrush, the snickers from the shadows burning into its very soul. ‟Huh, what,” Jake muttered, his eyes flickering open. He blinked as he looked around himself. His eyes grew wide and he looked up, and up, and up, at the massive edifice of stone rearing out of the ground just a few feet in front of him. ‟Wow, that sure is a big barn, Curry,” he muttered. He looked back over his shoulder at the snow-covered lump resting on the sledge. ‟Curry?” he queried. He backed up a step and lightly kicked the front of one of the runner, causing the sledge to bounce slightly and a pile of snow to fall off onto the bare ground. A muffled groan came from under the white mound and a second later it slid to the side as his best friend in the whole world lifted up the blanket she had been resting under. Curry ached all over and she let out a hiss of distress as she slowly worked her way off the sledge. Based on what she was feeling Jake must have hit every rock and stump between the barn and the lumber camp. Curry blinked and held up a shading hand as her dark acclimatized eyes watered in the bright light of a full moon floating overhead. After the light, the first thing she was aware of was a warm breeze playing over her face. The second was the sensation of icy cold as a clump of snow fell down the back collar of her coat. ‟Ahhhh, cold, cold, cold,” Curry shouted, jumping out of the sledge and pulling off her over-sized coat. Dropping the snow heavy garment onto the sledge she grabbed the back of her dress top and pulled it away from the small of her back. She gave herself a hard shake to get rid of the melting clod of frozen water nestling against the small of her back. Only when Curry had ditched the chilly stowaway did she start to pay attention to her surroundings. As always, her first thought was for Jake, and she looked toward him to find him staring back at her impatiently. There was something funny about the way he looked, but it was hard to see even with the moonlight being as bright as it was. His black hide seemed to flicker in and out of visibility in the dark and it was difficult to focus. Before she could explore this curiosity she became aware of what was behind Jake. Mimicking Jake's earlier reaction her eyes widened as her head tilted back, and then further back, till she threatened to fall over backward on her rear as she stared nearly straight upwards. ‟What the buck,” she exclaimed as she stared at what had to be the ruins of a castle in front of her. ‟No way,” she exclaimed in amazement. ‟That is so cool. Old Ben never said anything about this.” ‟Curry. I need to go,” Jake said, his voice sounding slightly strained. Curry didn’t take her eyes off the castle. She just waved her hand in the general direction of some bushes and said, ‟Go ahead. Don’t look like there is anyone around to yell at us. Curry dropped her gaze and stared first one way and then the other. The huge stone building extended for yards and yards in either direction. ‟This is way better than some old log cabin. Should be ok. Don’t look like nobody been here for a...” ‟Hurry up, Curry,” Jake whined in a deep voice, but with a decided childish undertone. ‟Unhook me.” ‟Huh? What?” Curry pulled her attention away from the ruins of the fairytale castle in front of her and looked over at Jake, who was doing what looked an awful lot like a four-legged potty dance. His harness jangled with his motion. ‟Oh, ok. Just hold on.” She moved over to him and began undoing the catches and latches that held all the various straps wrapped around his body. She was too small to throw the whole thing on Jake in one piece so when she’d put it on him she had to disassemble it down to the basic and then harness him up one bit at a time. Taking it off was a lot easier. She undid a few critical catches, gave a yank, and it slid off him to pile onto the ground beside him. He lifted up his own hoof and shoved the horse collar around his neck off. Unencumbered he headed for the bushes at an urgent trot. Curry watched him go with amused affection for a moment, and then her eyes suddenly squinted in puzzlement. ‟Wait a moment,” she said. ‟Did Jake . . . nah, I’m imagining things." Still. She looked over to where Jake was looking for a good opening in the bushes. Hesitantly she approached her best friend as he finally gave up on finding an opening and forced his way through the bushes. She followed right behind him, letting him break trail for her. Jake looked over his shoulder at her, with what was a very obvious expression of dismay. ‟Jake, did you,” Curry started to ask in a hesitant voice, only to be interrupted. ‟Curry. I need to go. Right now,” Jake whined. His rear legs shifted and this time there was no doubt at all. He had talked, and he was doing the potty dance. ‟Not possible,” Curry told herself out loud. She reached out to touch Jake, surely this must be a dream. But before she could he shifted around, lifted a foreleg, and gently pushed her back through the bushes. ‟Sorry, sorry. Only. I really, really, need to go, Curry,” Jake said in a very apologetic voice. With maybe a hint of annoyance at Curry’s willful disregard for a colt’s need for privacy. This wasn’t part of the current strangeness, as it happened. Back when Jake was still only half grown Curry had found the sight of him taking care of business a bit daunting. She had not only barn trained him but had worked to instill the importance of doing such things out of the sight of delicate young girls who would whomp him good if he forgot. Jake’s upper body was still visible, but he was concealed from the chest down. He clearly felt that in the circumstances that was good enough. His body shifted slightly and there was a huge gushing splashing sound as he emptied his too full bladder. A few seconds into the deluge there was a sudden commotion at the bottom of the bushes and a very wet chicken dashed out and dove into the bushes on the other side of the path. Sort of. Curry blinked. She hadn’t gotten a very good look, but she could swear she’d just seen a snake with a half-swallowed chicken in its mouth. Wow, that wasn’t something she wanted to meet. She looked around quickly to see if there were any more chicken eating snakes in the area. Ones without a chicken to fill their bellies and looking for something else to do the job. Like say a helpless little girl? The lost young girl sat down on the edge of the sledge. Her mind churned as she tried to absorb everything. A strange ruined castle, Jake talking, looking strange, and now chicken snatching snakes. There was only one possible conclusion. Either she was having one of the weirdest dreams ever, or. . . "This is the coolest place, ever!" ************************************ Princess Celestia, the penultimate ruler of Equestria, the epitome of grace and power, the pony that all other ponies looked at as the best of the best, walked out of her bathroom dressed in a ratty old bathrobe with her mane done up in bright pink rollers decorated with balloon and candy patterns. The first was a treasured Hearth’s Warming Eve present from her, then, ten-year-old student. The second, a more recent gift from one of her student’s new friends. Both were highly valued for their example of function over form. Bathrobes were supposed to be comfy, and curlers practical. For some reason the more powerful you were, the less acceptable it was to dress in a purely practical manner. Heaven help Equestria if she were to appear in public in an outfit that was more than a month old. The economy was likely to crash as Stall Street brokers jumped to the conclusion that the government was running out of money. Celestia’s current wardrobe was a direct if unintended consequence of, her sister Luna’s return. Being able to hand over responsibility for Equestria during the night time had left Celestia with a luxury she had not experienced for a thousand years, uninterrupted leisure time. Oh, there were still those courtiers who tried to bypass Luna and come straight to her with their petty problems. Partially because they did not deal well with change, partly because Luna lacked her sister’s diplomatic sensibilities but mostly they were a little afraid of what Luna might actually do. Luna, while a very different pony from Nightmare Moon, was still a product of the world of a thousand years ago. She tended to take the straightest line approach in regards to conflict resolution. Luna had actually solved one of the problems brought before her. The said solution had, among other things, involved shutting down a five-hundred-year-old government department, that did not seem to actually do anything, and throwing numerous well-connected ponies out of work. It had taken Celestia every bit of her own hard-won experience to keep from laughing out loud when she had been apprised of the situation. But, tempting as it was to leave matters as they were she had reinstated the department. They had been an important bulwark against the machinations of at least five other departments. The chaos that would have resulted by the realignment of various alliances would have disrupted the work of the ponies who actually got things done for months if not years. Entertaining as that could have been, the consequences to her little ponies would have been dire. Celestia had, however, taken the chance to winnow out some of the more annoying ministers, granting them early retirement. It had been fun coming up with ways of kicking their plots out the door that left them having to actually thank her for her generosity in allowing them more time to spend with their hobbies and families. Celestia was sure it was only a coincidence that there had been a short-lived spike in divorce rates right after that. Afterward, Celestia sat down with Luna and explained how important it was that a balance is maintained between the various government agencies. Both so that none of them gained too much influence, and that their internal machinations kept them out of the manes of the ponies that actually ran the country. Celestia had long ago calculated the expense of this practice as compared to throwing the lot of them out into the street. She had concluded that the expense of their fancy offices and well-catered lifestyle was far less than the damage they could cause if she lost her grip on their reins and they were allowed to run loose in the wild, so to speak. Still, the expression on their faces when they had to come top hat in hoof and beg that she overturn Luna’s decision had made all the extra work of reinstating their department worth it. It still gave her a warm fuzzy glow on cold nights like this one. Luna had promised to consult with her sister before taking such unilateral action again, but Celestia had in return given her permission that Luna was free to channel a bit of Nightmare Moon when the occasion demanded it. She’d become particularly good at it after participating in Ponyville’s Nightmare Night celebration. Celestial was particularly impressed with the fake fangs and wished she didn’t have to project a gravitas that made such a display impossible for her. An unexpected, but a pleasant, side effect of all this was that many of the officials went out of their way not to have to deal with Luna, even if it meant actually solving their problems themselves. As for those few who still didn’t seem to understand the new situation. Well, Celestia’s guards had gotten very good at vetting those petitioners who still insisted that only Celestia, and only now, would do for their particular problems. The number who made it through them had in recent times been reduced to, none. Which was why she felt perfectly free to indulge herself in very un-princess-like attire. And to partake of the ultimate forbidden act: Eating cookie dough ice cream straight out of the container while reading an improbable, steamy, romance novel. ******************* To many of the ponies of Equestria, the Nocturne Pegasi were the terrors that flap in the night. Those huge glowing golden eyes, the dark grey hide, and worst of all, the membranous dragon-like wings they possessed instead of good honest feathers. Many a fair mare had fainted at the mere sight of one of these fearsome creatures. What then, could frighten such a monster? Many things, for despite their appearance, they were much like their fellow ponies. They loved, they cried, they drank too much while visiting the in-laws over the holidays. Many of them, however, served in the Royal Guard, Night Division, and this opened them up to things that normal ponies could not dream of in their worst nightmares. Case in point, a young Nocturne by the name of Pumpernickel Rye who had recently been both promoted and married. Terrifying indeed to a self-effacing sort like him. But he had not even started to plumb the depths of horror his new life supplied. Absolute terror was not something one usually associated with undergoing instruction in the fine art of diplomacy. On the one hoof, most students of the art would not expect to be quizzed by Princess Luna personally during each lesson on the fine differences between the flanks of various court attendees, up to and including the Princess herself. On the other hoof, most students of diplomacy were not expected to answer these delicate questions while in the company of their own wife, who just happened to be the Hoofservant of Princess Luna, and who paid great attention to the hapless stallion's lessons for later review, in a location free from royal interference. That was the sort of thing that could cause you to wake up screaming in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. So, it was not so strange that Pumpernickel, a Nocturne Night Guard, felt a great deal of happiness to be standing a nice, quiet guard shift ‘outside’ of the princess’s chamber for a change, ‘playing statue’ as more than a few civilians had been overheard stating. While the Royal Guard took great pride in the stoicism with which they performed their duties. To dismiss them as simply living ornaments was seriously underestimating them. A civilian hired security guard could possibly get by with sleeping on their hooves at work, but any Royal Guard Cadet who was foolish enough to try such a stunt was very soon disabused of the notion or was quickly shown the door. Generations of crusty sergeants had passed down soft and gentle reminders to generations of delicate Cadets that they were there to guard, not to catch up on badly needed beauty sleep. Normally this gentle inspiration was passed on at a volume sufficient to preclude the lecture from being held in an area where breakable glass was present, or where young mares below a certain age might learn unwelcome additions to their vocabulary. This entailed, as the sergeant would go on to explain in great detail, being constantly aware of their surroundings, and ready to act at a moment’s notice. This was remarkably difficult to do with actual reasons to act being far and few between. The solution was to keep your mind active. To find things that kept you focused while allowing you to maintain full observation of your surroundings. That did not mean daydreaming about your beautiful new wife, something Pumpernickel was finding a bit difficult to avoid this evening. But he was well trained, and while he couldn’t fully eliminate Laminia from his thoughts, he found thinking about her reaction to discovering he had been mooning over her like a lovesick colt was as effective as an ice cold shower. So instead of thinking about her soft grey hide, or her lovely yellow eyes, or the way her wing felt as it stroked across his flank, he sought out other forms of stimulation that were not quite so distracting. Pumpernickel could still remember, very vividly indeed, his first stint of standing guard as a raw cadet. For generations, Royal Guard Cadets had guarded a special gallery devoted exclusively to portraits of Princess Celestia donated to the Crown by various nobles anxious to curry favor over many, many centuries. Despite never being guarded by anyone but cadets, not a single piece of artwork had ever been stolen from the gallery, which was a great source of pride to the Royal Guard, and a source of constant despair to the Princess who seriously considered dropping by with a match some night, if not for the probable loss of a perfectly good Cadet. At the time Pumpernickel had felt enormously proud in being trusted with such a task. He had also felt that he had acquitted himself quite well. He had not fallen asleep even once. That feeling had lasted right up to the point where his Sergeant had quizzed him. He had wanted to know a detailed listing of every painting, along with size, content, date, and color within line of sight. Pumpernickel had barely been able to recall half a dozen particular pieces of art, and that only because they were so awful that he feared they had been burned into the back of his retina permanently. He’d worn out two toothbrushes cleaning the latrine over the next week. Two weeks later his turn at the duty rolled around again. This time he paid particular attention to his surroundings, cataloging every possible thing the sergeant might choose to ask him about. The sarge had indeed been impressed. Especially at Pumpernickel’s recollection of the signature on a piece of art fifty feet down the hall, and on the same side of the hallway as his guard station. He went through six toothbrushes at that time. Slowly, along with those of his fellows who did not wash out, Pumpernickel learned how to stand guard. How to stay loose so your joints didn’t seize up. How to observe and take note of your surroundings on an instinctive level. To listen, to see, to smell. And to do all of this without wearing yourself out from nervous stress. To see what was there, and sometimes, more importantly, to see what wasn’t. Now, a fully trained, and recently promoted guard, seconded to the personal service of Princess Luna herself, he regarded watch duty as a chance to relax. To think, and to let the pressure from the more active parts of his job seep away. All while staying fully focused, no matter how silent or still the night. It wasn’t as bad as it had been before the return of the Princess, Pumpernickel thought. He shuddered to imagine a thousand years of night guards standing sentry in the cavernous halls of the lunar court. With only the occasional foolish burglar once every decade or so to enliven the duty. Things had been a bit more lively since the return of Princess Luna and looked to become even more so in the future if the princess had her way. Which, no matter how hopeful the bureaucrats in charge of Royal Guard staffing might be to the contrary, he was sure she would. As if to prove his point, at least in part, Pumpernickel could hear one of those changes a few hallways away. His mind slipped back to the start of duty briefing and remembered that one of the first results of the great TP scandal (1) was due to start working this night. For a thousand years, the night court had been cleaned during the day, the flowers changed, the linens kept fresh. At night the court became an empty mausoleum, inhabited only by the still white and gray forms of the various guard pairs. Even after Princess Luna returned, the practice of doing all custodial duties during the day had continued. For the most part, it didn’t really matter. But with the increased activity during the night in the formerly vacant court, it had become more and more obvious that there needed to be at least some night staff to handle the routine maintenance of the court. But bureaucratic inertia is a powerful force and it wasn’t till the great TP disaster that things actually started to happen. New maids and maintenance personnel were to be hired, specifically to work the night shift. Part of the sudden rush was in the forlorn hope that Princess Luna would forget, or at least soften, in her determination to include mares in the very conservative Royal Guard, more specifically, the even more tradition-bound Night Guard. The ponies in charge were hoping that the presence of cleaning staff, of the female variety, would cause her to forget her strange and perverse request that mares serve in the guard. After all, you hardly needed female guards to make sure the various bathrooms were kept fully stocked at all times. Pumpernickel could have told them how faint that hope was. And, as he expected, Princess Luna bent not one iota in her determination that mares would be added to her guard detachment. That eliminated the reason behind hiring new maids but did not stop the process. While it was insanely difficult to start the wheels turning in government service, it was nothing compared to the effort of stopping them. As a result, the same day applications were taken for the position of female Night Court guards, they were also taken, and in the same office, for ponies interested in the exciting and fulfilling world of domestic service. Potential applications had been taken, security checks had been made, and new hires had been made. Or at least, one had. Out of over fifty applicants, mostly unicorns, that had shown up that day, only one had applied for a position in housekeeping. According to the grapevine the most asked question the new applicants for the guard position had, was whether they’d be sharing training facilities with all those handsome young Guard stallions. The general consensus within the Royal Guard was not a single one of them would make it through Tartarus Month. Personally, Pumpernickel had four days in the office pool. The single applicant for the domestic position had been a smallish Nocturne mare named, Goose Down. In fact, she was the only Nocturne mare to apply at all, and more surprisingly still, from one of the more traditional Nocturne families. Pumpernickel had been surprised she’d been allowed out of the house, let alone allowed to apply for an outside job. The more hidebound families had a tendency to keep their females sequestered, for the most part, not allowing them to go anywhere without a male family member along for protection. The only reason he could see for why she was permitted to apply was that the position involved Princess Luna unless there was something going on behind the scenes. His own wife was a prime example of that. As personal hoofmaiden to Princess Luna, she enjoyed (2) a very high level of social status in Canterlot society, and an unprecedented level of public exposure for a Nocturne, let alone a ‘female’ Nocturne. Her family didn’t know whether to preen in pride or skulk in the shadows over the shame of having a female member of the family working outside the home. They had settled for a sullen silence. But not all families carried quite that much baggage. Maybe Goose Down’s family felt that having a family member, even a female, in Luna’s direct service would bestow significant bragging rights on the family elders? Security was more than happy to have a nocturne mare employed on the job. In addition to Goose being naturally nocturnal, there was pretty much zero chance that she was in the employ of one of the local scandal sheets. Personally, Pumpernickel felt that any tabloid reporter who tried to bribe Goose into a behind the veil expose of Luna’s court was risking at the very least the integrity of his hide. He didn’t know Goose, of course. Hadn’t even seen the mare yet. But he knew the type. Nocturne Pegasus mares might appear meek and mild on the surface, but as he knew from first-hoof experience with his sisters, you did not want to make them mad. You would most certainly not like them when they were mad. He shuddered as childhood trauma threatened to come to the surface. Of course, she wasn’t fully cleared to work in the actual royal residence yet. She was fully qualified to work in the general domestic staff of the palace, which was an accomplishment in itself. But the intention was for her to enter the personal service of the Princess herself. No one knows you better or has more access to you than the one who makes your bed and scrubs your toilet. Hence the need for her to have a higher security clearance than even the rank and file of the palace guard. She had only passed the standard evaluation so far. Much more was required. She needed to be evaluated by an expert to start with. That was why the older maid who was working as Goose’s partner this evening was Miss Grace, supposedly a mare with years of experience in domestic service. In actuality, she was newly seconded to the Night Guard from her previous position of Lieutenant Commander in charge of special investigations for the Canterlot police department. Pumpernickel had met the lady in question when she and her fellow three members of the Canterlot Police department had been introduced to the squad. He’d felt positively flayed as her eyes had bored into his for a few seconds before she smiled and shook his hoof. Pumpernickel was not sure if adding mares to the Guard was a good idea or not. But his first meeting with the four mares transferred over from the Canterlot Police department had been enlightening. Others might have their doubts but in regards to those four at least he was convinced. He had no doubt that Miss Grace would know every single detail of Goose’s life before the night was out. Given a week she’d know the girl better than her mother. If Goose passed, the next stage would start, which would entail making sure Goose had the proper training to handle her not so obvious responsibilities. Pumpernickel frowned at that. The powers-that-be had been desperate to make sure nothing like the great TP crises happened again on their watch. Which was why they were rushing things. By all rights, Goose should have gone through a two-month condensed guard training program before even setting foot in the palace. It wasn’t the cleaning. No Nocturne mare of her age, from a family as traditional as hers, would fail to be fully versed in all the minutia of keeping a house spotless. The problem was that Goose could easily find herself the last line of defense between the princess and an assailant. While she did not require the full program of training that a guard candidate underwent, she would need to know how to fight effectively, or at least well enough to delay an intruder till others could act. He wasn’t sure a sheltered little filly like Goose would be able to handle the training, or for that matter, the fact that she might be expected to inflict severe damage on another pony. On the other hoof, she was a Nocturne. That meant with no training at all she’d still be likely to throw herself between the princess and danger. That wasn’t something that could be easily taught or instilled. You either had it or you didn’t. It would be interesting to see how she took to the advanced classes in constructive mayhem. With all that in mind, he cocked an inquisitive ear toward the sounds that were echoing up the halls to his position. He could recognize Miss Grace’s voice and the other one conversing with her must be Goose. He could not quite make out their words yet, but they were slowly coming closer as they attended to sweeping the hall clean of any microscopic speck of dust that might have accumulated in the ten hours since the day crew had swept, mopped and polished it. The day shift hadn’t wanted the new cleaning crew thinking they couldn’t keep a simple little palace spit-polished. It took the two mares a while to work their way toward Pumpernickel’s position. Eventually, however, they came close enough for him to make out their words. It seemed that Miss Grace had succeeded in gaining Goose’s confidence because the new hire was being particular voluble. She had a pleasant feminine voice, but at the moment it was strained from frustration. ‟I tried and tried to tell them. But they wouldn’t listen. And every time I cornered one of the guards interviewing the applicants some silly filly would butt in asking things like, Goose’s voice squeaked in a high falsetto. ‟Oh, do I have to shave off my mane like the other guards? Oh, do we share quarters with the Stallion recruits? Oh, can we accessorize our uniforms? They’re all so bland.” ‟Dear, why did you take this job if what you really wanted was to be a guard? I’m sure there will be another chance to apply,” asked Miss Grace with an air of authentic concern. Pumpernickel’s ear flicked forward and twisted to the side in surprise. ‟Because after dealing with those silly fillies, they’ll never try to hire mares for the Royal Guard ever again.” the younger mare answered, dismay and frustration even more evident in her voice. ‟If they had tried on purpose they couldn’t have found a better group to prove that mares can’t be guards. This might be my only chance to serve my Princess personally. I had to take it.” Pumpernickel raised an eyebrow. He had heard from more than a few of the barrack room gossips that Princess Luna’s edict was not in the least popular among the guard commanders. Could they be trying to stack the deck? And if so, how would that affect the various office betting pools? Most importantly, how could he take advantage of that inside information? While Pumpernickel was pondering, the pair of cleaners finally rounded the corner and started down the hallway toward his position. It was clear that Miss Grace saw him the moment they came into sight, but Goose kept on rambling, her eyes focused on the walls and floor as she applied the polishing cloth attached to her front hooves. ‟Good Evening to you, Guardstallion," said Miss Grace, causing Goose to abruptly cut off her rant and stare in his direction. She might have flushed, at this distance, he couldn’t tell, but if she did she would have been a good match for Pumpernickel at the moment. His first impression of the mare could be encapsulated in one word, short. She was short in height, short in length, with a short cut mane and tail and while she had a broad, deep chest it added little to her bulk as the rest of her was so petite. What was not short, were her wings. Oh, stars those were wings! The dragon-type wings of the Nocturne normally tucked up between the shoulder and the flank neatly enough to half-conceal whatever cutie mark was there, but this mare's wings not only brushed against her neck but also protruded out behind her. Whatever cutie mark she had was completely obscured unless she were to take flight, and then any red-blooded stallion would certainly not be looking at her flank. It probably would be a good idea for her not to be out on the practice field with the pegasus stallion trainees, the rate of accidental crashes from distracted flying could wipe out an entire male cadet class. Pumpernickel tore his eyes away from the young mare's wings with a strong mental reminder of his married status, and the certain headache that would result from wandering eyes in Laminia's presence. Or anywhere she heard about it. And being the Princess' Hoofmaiden, she heard a lot. A sense of certainty filled Pumpernickel that Goose’s failure to convince anyone that she had meant to sign up for guards duty had nothing to do with the chaos caused by all those other mares and everything to the sergeant in charge taking one look at her and going. ‟Oh, no. No way in hay am I borrowing that sort of trouble.” As a dragon-winged Nocturne, Pumpernickel had little experience with guarding high society events except within the shadows or hovering overhead. But he had heard tales. The bane of the Royal Guard’s existence was the common royal unicorn. Specifically, the ones the guards thought of silently as the humorless twit, and the all too common, in both senses of the word, flirtatious flit who thought it hilarious to try and use their feminine charms and wiles to get a rise, literally, out of the guards on duty. Which was why the guard commanders almost exclusively staffed such events with Pegasi. Most of the mares in question were unicorns, with a few earth ponies thrown into the mix. And while Pegasi stallions appreciated a well-turned flank as well as the next stallion, most of them were not into horns. What really drew their eyes and interest, was a well-formed set of wings attached to a well-formed mare. The new female recruits might not be sharing quarters with the male recruits, but they would be sharing training facilities. Pumpernickel shuddered at the thought of the havoc Goose would have created simply doing basic calisthenics in front of a crowd of young studs, all too eager to compete with each other to demonstrate that they were hot enough to be raised by Celestia. Reminding himself that he had a perfectly lovely wife, with a questionable temper, he wrenched his eyes away from Goose and toward Miss Grace, who gave him a small smile and a wink that deepened the blush on his cheeks at being caught out. Before the situation could degenerate any further the door behind him crashed open against the wall, on the other side of where he was standing thank Luna. Speaking of which. Princess Luna rushed into the hallway, and without a look at any of the three ponies in the hall took off like a shot past the two cleaners. Miss Grace dropped into a graceful bow, while Goose all but flattened herself against the floor with the front of her wings cupping forward to conceal her head and block her vision. Even after Luna passed out of sight, Goose remained prone while whispering in a small voice, ‟That was the princess. My princess. Our princess. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. The princess was right there, she almost stepped on me. Oh my gosh. What if she had? What if she’d twisted an ankle? My mom would kill me. I’d be fired. I’d never be able to show my face in public again.” ‟Oh, dear. I’m afraid the Princess may have broken her.” Miss Grace said. There was a standing joke in the Royal Guard that had a bit more truth to it than he would like to admit. Sudden Royalty Exposure Syndrome (SRES) could cause normal ponies to freeze up in a catatonic state from which there was only one rumored cure: A quick lick of the ear, preferably applied by a young unmarried mare of great beauty, although a Guard would do in a pinch. He managed to catch himself before volunteering to apply the cure, after catching a sideways glance from the older mare that led him to believe that perhaps she knew more than she was letting on about Royal Guard lore. That and picturing Laminia stepping out of the Princess' private suite in time to see him giving the good looking filly's ear a lick made cold sweat break out on his brow. ******************* Celestia focus was completely on the book levitating in front of her. Rock Hard, the night black Nocturne Pegasus had just swept the helpless Unicorn mare, Chastity Harness, off the ground and was carrying her back to his night-black castle deep in the Everfree forest. One by one the buttons on her dress, the only shield against his despicable desires, were undoing themselves as Rock Hard’s magic overwhelmed Chastity’s feeble efforts to resist. A spoon laden with half-melted ice-cream floated up in the air toward Celestia slightly flushed face. The Princess of the Sun opened her mouth without taking her eyes off the steamy scene unfolding in front of her eyes. The spoon wavered slightly before homing in on the appropriate target. ‟Sister!” Luna cried out, slamming open the door to Celestia’s private chambers. Luna was using the royal Canterlot voice, and the various vases and nicknacks bounced on their pedestals and shelves, while the windows vibrated in their frames. Celestia jerked back in surprise. Her book went flying one way as her spoonful of ice-cream got dumped into her nose instead of in her mouth. She experienced a sudden coughing sneezing fit that caused several of the rollers in her hair to come loose. She tried to rise to her feet, only to have her hooves get tangled in her bathrobe, sending her tumbling backward onto her royal rear. Her legs sprawled out in a most undignified, and rather compromising manner. A couple of guards had rushed in behind Luna. They took in the disheveled mess that was their sovereign, flushed red, and wisely choose discretion over valor. They withdrew from the room, carefully closing the door behind them. Luna ignored both her sister’s disarray and the guards' retreat. ‟Sister! Didst thou feel it?” she asked, her voice excited. Celestia lifted a napkin to her nose and gave a hard blow, then levitated a hundred-year-old cloth off of one of the nook tables to wipe herself clean. ‟That, my dear sister, would very much depend on what you meant by, it,” she said dryly. She got to her feet and gave her flank a rub with a hoof. ‟I just felt several things.” ‟The Alicorn magic,” Luna exclaimed impatiently. That gained Luna her sister’s undivided attention. ‟ A new filly?” she asked with sudden intent and with a touch of worry in her tone. It was far too soon for anything else, she tried to tell herself. Twilight was still several months away if her calculations were correct. She shuddered at the thought of what a panicked Twilight might do if she evolved without being prepared. The frustrating thing was that she couldn’t warn Twilight this soon. Merely knowing it was possible could severely compromise her potential. Luna was oblivious to Celestia’s inner turmoil. She answered the question her sister had asked out loud in a voice quivering with excitement. ‟Yes . . . no! I do not know! It was not exactly like the sign that indicated a birth flare. But it was an Alicorn coming into the world all the same. I know it.” she stamped her hoof in frustration. ‟It was very faint. And did not last long. I did not have time to teleport and triangulate. I only deduced a general direction before it winked out! I was hoping thou hadst felt it! I was not here when Cadence was born! Or when she manifested her magic! I do not know what a new Alicorn feels like first hoof! But I swear it was an Alicorn. Of this, I am most positive!” ‟What direction? Did you get any gender indication?” Luna expression turned thoughtful as she focused on remembering everything she could about what she’d felt. ‟Somewhere in the direction of Ponyville. Roughly only I am afraid. It was so faint, it might have been well past them.” Celestia stifled a gasp of worry. Luna’s mane was bristling with excitement and she began strutting back and forth in front of her sister as she chattered with an excitement very similar to that exhibited by Twilight when she was working out something new from the first principle. And was still trying to get it straight in her own head while explaining what it was at the same time. ‟Unless it was merely the leakage of a working. In which case it might have been closer. But if it was a working that would mean a mature Alicorn. I do not see how that would be possible. You have told me often enough, sister, how I leaked magic randomly when I was young. I don’t see how any Alicorn could escape notice long enough to learn the control needed to conceal their presence. I could not determine gender, but it felt different from you or Cadence. I am quite used to the feel of your magic of course and have learned to recognize Cadence’s magic since my return. I am not sure I would be able to recognize a stallion. But that might explain the difference.” Celestia was calming down as she remembered certain basic facts. Evolution was not a quiet event. If Twilight had manifested early not only she but every Unicorn in Equestria would have felt it.(3) With that worry out of the way, she started thinking about the other options. She shook her head in puzzlement. ‟It is strange. I can not imagine how an Alicorn pregnancy could fail to be noted. The signs are very distinct.” ‟But most rare, sister. It is not beyond reason to think that the signs would not be recognized.” ‟Yes, that might explain it,” Celestia mused thoughtfully. The warning signs were contained in about one paragraph of the latest midmare handbook if she recalled correctly. Easy enough to believe that they would be overlooked, or forgotten by an older mare. ‟Of course. I may have been mistaken?” Luna qualified, a touch of doubt creeping into her voice. ‟We can all make mistakes, sister of mine. But you are not the sort who shies at every blown leaf or dropped cup. I think this needs to be investigated.” ‟Yes! I will call out the guard. We shall do a house by house search in the correct direction. Interview the medical clinics. Find out who was expecting.” ‟Or,” Celestia broke in. ‟We could ask Twilight and her friends to investigate, discreetly.” she directed a serious look at her sister. ‟For you and me, and Cadence, this is personal. For many others, it is a chance at gaining influence or losing it to rivals. I would prefer any new Alicorn not become the centerpiece in a political tug of war. At least not until she, or he, grows a suitably sharp horn. A sudden flare of green fire lit the room, and faded away, leaving a rolled scroll hanging in the air, which Celestia snagged with her magic just before it would begin to fall. ‟Not so quickly, Sister,” Luna chided her big sister. Snatching the scroll from Celestia before her surprised elder could react. ‟Thou art off duty for the moment I beg you recall,” There was a teasing tone to her voice, and a mischievous look in her eyes that said this was payback for lumbering Luna with all those annoying politicians. Luna had never thought to miss the solitary night, but Canterlot was no simple farming community. Its inhabitants did not pay a great deal of attention to the cycle of the sun and moon. So her nights were often filled with visitors. Of the most unwelcome sort. Luna was positive that it was only the most annoying of the citizens who choose to work deep into her cycle of duty. Only after she had fully unrolled the scroll did Luna look at it. Her eyes widened. ‟It would seem that I was not the only one paying attention this night. Thy student, Twilight Sparkle has also noted the magical flare, though she has no idea what transpired. She greatly fears some harm might have befallen me as she was observing my magic at the time she experienced it.” A touch of fondness crept into Luna’s voice at the last statement. But vanished as she continued to read and it was replaced with excitement, ‟Ahhhh, even more wonderful. She deduced a direction. Quickly, a map.” Celestia felt a huge sense of relief. No matter how much she had reassured herself the worry had remained that Twilight had once again exceeded expectations. She reached out and extracted a large atlas from her bookshelf and set it down on a nearby table. The large book opened to a detailed map of Equestria. ‟Now. Let us see,” Luna mused, floating an ink well and quill over from Celestia’s writing desk. Celestia winced and extracted the objects from her eager sister’s grasp. ‟If you would, sister. I have no wish to face my secretary and librarian and explain why I felt compelled to doodle in a five-hundred-year-old priceless folio. Or see Twilight give me that look.” She shuddered delicately even as she floated two long straight twigs from a nearby flower arrangement. Luna did not even bother to react to her sister’s humorous chiding. She lay the two slender stalks on the map of Equestria, lining them up as to origin point and direction. Both sisters lowered their heads over the map and focused on where the twigs crossed. ‟There is a certain symmetry to it,” Celestia at last commented. ‟Indeed. What more fitting place to see the emergence of a new Royal Alicorn. I will fly there at once.” ‟Hold. Please, sister.” Celestia said. ‟We have discussed this. If our little ponies are to evolve. We must allow them the opportunity to succeed or fail, on their own. Powerful as we are, it would be so very easy to forget our ponyanity. To become something much more, and much less.” ‟But, sister.” Luna protested. ‟I trusted Twilight to save you. I may have influenced her from behind the scenes. But in the end, it was her heart and will, and that of her friends that brought you back to me in a way that could not have happened if I had fought your release and turned it into a fight between me and thee. I ask you to trust her now. Go, watch, but from a distance. Allow them to bring our newest sister, or brother, to us.” Luna was reluctant, but she had placed herself second to her sister and would abide by her wishes in all matters till she had proven to herself that she was once again worthy of sitting with Celestia as an equal partner. ‟As you will, sister. I will try. Though I fear it will be most difficult. So what shall we tell thy student?” ‟I do not like to send my student in with preconceived notions normally. But, In this case, I think it is important that she be at least prepared somewhat for what she might find. A baby is not a pile of rocks or a carved crystal heart. She may need certain necessities for both the babe and the mother. So, let us see,” Celestia mused as she levitated a scroll and quill and began to write. She chuckled slightly with her first line, but her demeanor turned serious as she continued. ************************************ [1]This would be, "Papergate" The repercussions from a single event where the newly returned Princess Luna had been effectively trapped in a bathroom without toilet paper while her sole male Royal Guard dithered about entering The Royal Presence with an extra roll, had a great effect on prospective staffing inside the Guard. In particular, the penguin counting science team at the polar regions had suddenly been determined to be one Royal Guard short of their full contingent, and the Royal Guard contingent in charge of Princess Luna's security had been determined to be short several female guards. Both shortages had been rectified rapidly, one by direct assignment and pre-paid first class train ticket, the other by 'borrowing' several experienced police officers from the Canterlot Police force. (2) 'Enjoyed' as in 'Was dragged with great reluctance to many social affairs only because of Luna's presence.' (3) Probably by hearing a loud cry of "Oh, no!"