After Friday Haystings and Princess Sunny had boarded the Night Guard chariot and been whisked away into Canterlot’s spring night, Green Grass began to feel just a tiny bit abandoned. It was not as if he had been using Sunny as a shield against the attention of Princess Celestia.

The comfortable ease with which Princess Celestia unfolded the alicorn-sized table as well as placed two chairs on the balcony showed her experience at the task, and it took extremely little effort for Green Grass to imagine the second powerful Diarch of Equestria sitting most evenings where his unworthy green bottom now rested. There were even more than a few indigo-colored hairs on the overly-large chair cushion, causing Green Grass’ far too active mind to think unwelcome thoughts of just who the Princesses used for the intimate act of combing out their own shedding hair. Instead, he took a deep breath of the fresh spring air that drifted upwards from the dark castle grounds below, bringing with it the welcome scents of spring, night blooming flowers in the royal gardens, the crisp tang of mountain thunderstorms, and only the occasional floating hair from the ponies’ bi-annual shedding.

Many very important ponies would have killed to have this kind of access to Princess Celestia; Green Grass would have committed assault, or at least attempted assault in order to leave. Every other time he had talked with the gentle Princess of the Sun, it felt as if his head had been opened up and all of the furniture inside rearranged. The ponies she dealt with every day must either develop nerves of cabled steel, or leave the castle in a state of incoherence every night. There were always stories of important ponies brought to nervous collapse and alcoholism within the Canterlot newspapers, but his examination of the articles seemed to indicate a preponderance of them were opposed to Celestia, where her supporters and staff seemed to virtually vanish into the background like stars against the sun.

Luna was an entirely different matter. While he had been visited several times in dreams with a very informal and sometimes playful manner, his physical encounters with the Princess of the Night had been brief, cordial, and formal as the Winterfall Dance, during which he and Twilight had been invited, or commanded depending on the exact interpretation of Luna’s words, to participate. They had attended reluctantly, and even danced in a slow fashion that was nearly impossible to mess up and nowhere near the tempo at which Twilight’s dance moves became indistinguishable from a seizure.

It seemed Luna had been under greater pressure than usual at the event, as if every motion she made was being analyzed and judged by every attendee, even the musicians. They had tried to help, even to the extent of both Twilight and Green Grass requesting a dance from the reclusive princess, which helped somewhat, although not quite as expected. Still, he had to admit, they had drawn some of that unwanted attention away from Luna, and she had actually laughed twice at their ‘dancing.’ It made her seem less lonely for just a few minutes, which made the resulting humiliation and the newspaper photos much easier to bear.

He continued to stare out into the night, unable to watch as Celestia brought out the elegantly simple tea service and placed the kettle on the tiny fire to warm. He was an intruder into her sacred moment, a thief stealing away her time which would be much better spent consoling Luna from her miserable day. As the clanking and rattling of priceless metal and ceramic continued, it did not take his eyes to recognize just exactly what step the Princess had reached in her timeless ritual of tea. Twilight had attempted in her own way to teach him the deep meaning and symbolism of each step, from the water, to the fire, to the tea, to the serving, but they had never really soaked into his thick head. Now the lessons she had attempted to teach him were becoming painfully obvious in the presence of her teacher.

As tense as he was, the air seemed to relax at the gentle ringing of tableware and the click of metal against porcelain, the gentle rumbling of the kettle, the tiny splashing noise as Celestia added steaming water to warm the teapot, and put the kettle back on the flame. It was very much an earth pony ritual, for there was no magic in the way the Princess had taught Twilight to make tea, no floating teakettles or mystic leaves. Just the touch, and the feel, and the smell, and the taste of the process, never the same taste twice, but the experience was always perfect.

Imperfections were what made the experience special. If the tea were exactly the same every time, it would become bland and dull. The Royal Guard seemed identical on the surface, but each one of them was an individual pony, with strengths and weaknesses unique to themselves. Together they were far stronger for it. Was it foolish for him to agonize about how he would never be perfect enough for Twilight, when their differences and similarities meshed so well?

He had once preferred his tea as dark as coffee and nearly sludge-like with sugar, but as in many things, Twilight had changed him. Tea was change, ever fluid, ever different, not a just delivery system for caffeine and sugar like chocolate or coffee. Tea was merely the aftereffect of a complicated process of learning. Once the steeping and the pouring and the brewing were complete, the tea was drunk to signify completion. To end the lesson by preserving what had been learned.

Celestia normally talked while preparing the tea, or at least every time Twilight Sparkle had brought him along for an evening meeting. Sometimes their soft voices would caress the air for only a few minutes, once for blissful hours. He had sat spellbound at their sides with nothing but the voices of ruler and student mixing in with the gentle clinks and rattles. Twilight had nearly floated out into the evening walk afterwards, and while he had experienced a floating sensation too, it was much more of a physical nature. Tonight, Celestia was silent, but he doubted it was because of the amount of talking with Sunny she had done this evening. It was far more likely because he was supposed to be learning something from the relative silence.

The scent of a pekoe of some sort drifted by his nose as he continued to stare out into the starlit city, and he could hear the spoon crunch into the dry, leafy tea. One. Two. Three. Twilight had always put three spoons of tea in to steep no matter how many cups needed filled, and somehow it always wound up just perfect. Just like her. How many spoons had Celestia worn out in her life, for the mere plebeian task of scooping tea? He knew the answer without asking. Sometimes she would replace a spoon, or a cup, or a pot, but it was still the same tea set even though there was not a single part of it still intact from when she first used it to make tea for her sister.

For how many years had she sat out on this balcony, alone, staring out at the night and the moon hanging above? Twilight had told him of her times spent in this room, how Celestia would converse with her late into the night, looking out on the moonlit city just like he was now. For centuries, Celestia had been separated from Luna. She had been so very much alone until her faithful student had come into her life and done the impossible, saving her sister and returning them to each other’s side. Now they deserved to be together every night and day, not separated by stressful tasks of state and inconsiderate green ponies.

But then again, he was separated from Twilight this evening, so perhaps that was the lesson. The gurgling of the kettle as Celestia filled the teapot to steep seemed loud in the relative silence. Between Twilight and Spike, there was almost never true silence in the library kitchen. How much then would he miss the sound of her voice if she were to leave forever, and he would be left all alone like Celestia, making tea in the darkness and staring at where she had gone, never able to touch her again. If the princess commanded her student to leave him and never look back, he would once again be alone in the world. There was no doubt in his mind that Twilight would obey her teacher and her princess no matter the loss. Proper tea could not be formed from cold water and leaves, it took the heat of stress to bring out the flavors locked within. Perhaps that was what the princess saw in him. Somepony to bring out the best in her student, a subtle flavor to add to her perfect blend to make it more perfect. Celestia did seem to enjoy his presence, and his close proximity of Twilight had brought vast changes to his life, although it only seemed to make her more perfect.

There was a metallic click and drip from the strainer being lifted from the teapot, separating the tea from the used-up tea leaves on their journey to be thrown into the trash. He was not simply a tea leaf to the immortal princess, to be used up and discarded to help Twilight turn into what the princess desired, was he? Or worse, had Celestia some plan in mind for him? He was a faithful subject to his princesses, a dutiful son to his father, and hopefully someday a loyal husband. Three directions to be torn, four if their discussions about foals were ever to come to fruition.

The faint repeated click of a teakettle against teacup roused him from his musings, and when he reached for the cup without looking, it was precisely where expected.

He tasted, deeply resenting his college years spent learning the fine differences in alcoholic beverages. It was tea. Just tea. With a few more years experience, he should be able to differentiate what kind it was, or where it had originated, but to his unsophisticated palate, it was still just tea, although there was a faint undertaste he recognized. Perhaps chives. He took a second sip with no more luck recognizing the subtle flavor and continued to watch the cityscape.

The delighted shrieks of the young griffon could be heard a long distance in the night air as the Night Guards used their natural vision advantage to make passes near the moonlit towers and spires just as closely as their day counterparts could have in broad daylight. Or perhaps a little closer. It was an educational experience Green Grass was thankfully not participating in, but well worthy of a comment to break the horrible quiet that had broken out once the tea had been served.

“And thus did the griffon princess also learn that the Night Guard ponies can see perfectly well in the dark where griffons can not, leading the young princess to a greater knowledge of the dangers of unwarranted military expeditions when she grows up.” As the faint shrieks of joy faded away into the distance, Green Grass sighed and took another sip of his tea. The mysterious flavor could be chrysanthemum, perhaps, if the princess was feeling in a particularly fey mood.

“Yes, the colts do love to show off their talents. I truly enjoy watching ponies reach their full potential, don’t you, Lord Green Grass?”

A proper sip of tea included a small slurping noise to draw air across the tea, both cooling it and aspirating air through the liquid to draw out the delicate flavors. The loud uncouth slurp from Her Royal Highness’ presence at his side could only have been calculated to distract him from his quiet contemplation of the starlit horizon and draw him out of his introspective sulk. Instead, he continued to stare out into the moonlit night with a quiet response.

The princess’ chuckle was subdued, a soft rolling noise beside him in the dark evening air. “We get so little time to just talk, Lord Green Grass. Time is a precious commodity, it can only be spent once, or it is wasted away and gone like the evening breeze. You have not been wasting your time with my faithful student, have you?”

“No,” he replied almost by reflex. “We’ve been… learning things.” He spared a quick glance out of the side of his eye at Princess Celestia, who continued to gaze out over her city beside him, a noble ruler looking over her precious ponies with grace and beauty instead of his own green gargoyle imitation. An additional sip of tea, with slurp, calmed his nerves enough to ask, “This isn’t a test, is it?”

“Of course it is.” The faint click of a teacup being set down sounded from his side while Green Grass became frozen, staring out into the dark night. “No need for parchment and quills, a verbal exam should be fine.” There was a sound of tea gently being stirred with the quiet clink of a single cube of sugar before she continued. “What have you learned with my faithful student?”

Princess Luna galloped happily down the humid castle corridor, grabbing Green Grass and Twilight under a foreleg each and swinging them around. She smelled damply of fresh mountain streams and sunshine, a bubbly mix that seemed to perk right out of her coat and overwhelm the scent of damp feathers.

“Twilight! Greenie! I hath made the most amazing discovery. Thou knowest how to swim, correct?”

Green Grass grinned sheepishly at the exuberant alicorn, thinking of his recent trips to the Royal Baths with Twilight Sparkle and his own embarrassing tendency to sink as they enjoyed a few days together during summer vacation. “Yes, Twilight can swim quite well. And nearly every earth pony can swim. You could say I am an exceptional swimmer.”

“Wonderful!” Azure magic coiled around the three of them and they vanished from the corridor, appearing on a small sliver of rock protruding from one of Canterlot’s many roaring icy waterfalls. Dozens of yards below, the roaring water smashed into a frosty pool of frigid death, only for Green Grass, the dozens of yards was rapidly turning into tens of yards and eventually into none at all.

“Oopsie!” said Luna, looking down at the plummeting earth stallion. “I think I bumped your coltfriend, Twilight Sparkle.”

“He can’t swim!” screamed Twilight, her volume only partially in an attempt to be heard over the roaring waterfall. “He sinks like a rock! He’s the exception to the rule!”

“He has very good diving form,” said Luna, nonplussed. “Ah, and he is doing an excellent dog-paddle for one who can’t swim.”

“Greenie!” screamed Twilight at the very edge of the sliver of rock, looking down into the roiling water. “We’ve got to do something! Somepony needs to— Aiiiieeeeeee!!”

Princess Luna looked down into the foaming frigid pool and clapped with excitement. “Twilight Sparkle! That was a most excellent belly-flop! Thou didst make an impressive wave.”

“I learned how to swim. I learned to think very carefully when your sister asks a question, and to phrase my answer clearly. I learned there are more hazardous things than to be turned into a cactus or other plant by a young unicorn’s prepubescent magic Flare…”

Rarity looked around her boutique and at the single gardenia sitting morosely on the windowsill before calling out to the carriage that would carry the seven of them to the Grand Galloping Gala. “Twilight, are you sure you don’t want to bring Green Grass?”

“I told you already, Rarity,” sighed Twilight with a mournful look of her own. “He’s going to be stuck that way for another day or two until he blooms, which should break him out of Sweetie Belle’s accidental transformation spell. The safest thing we can do is to just leave him alone.”

“He just looks so sad there on the shelf. Are you sure he doesn’t need re-potting before we go, or maybe some fertilizer?”

As the carriage pulled away, three curious fillies emerged from the shadows of the boutique, advancing on the plant rather cautiously. “I feel really bad about doing that to you during our lesson, Mister Green Grass,” said Sweetie Belle. “But I promise, we’ll make it up to you.”

A cry rang out through the boutique that made the gardenia shudder and drop a few leaves.

The top of the ladder propped up against the library tree was secured correctly, leaning at the correct angle, and the occupant of the ladder had even taken great care not to stand above the rung labeled ‘Not a step.’ After all, earth ponies belonged in firm contact with their element, and carrying that much potential energy made Green Grass more than nervous while he prodded the top of the plugged downspout with a long stick held tightly in his jaws. The one downside of living inside a tree was during the fall, when every single downspout plugged themselves solid with leaves and twigs. With careful application of earth pony strategy, and an enormous amount of poking with a stick, Green Grass had managed to unplug every downspout on the library in preparation for going inside and taking a long afternoon shower. Well, almost every downspout.

“Greenie?” called out a voice from far, far below. “Do you need me to do anything? I’ve got an unplugging spell.”

“Mumph!” growled the tutor, gripping the poking stick firmly in his jaws and jabbing at the stubborn plug. “Mummph mugmulp mumamplaf!”

A faint rumbling began to build in the plugged downspout as the tutor regarded his nemesis with growing horror. He dropped the stick to shout at Twilight, but it was far too late for him, and he probably should not have opened his mouth.

The pony who descended the ladder was not green as Green Grass. In fact, he could have more accurately been called Brown Leaves and Twigs. Or even Soggy Mulch. Spitting out a twig, he regarded his giggling marefriend with painful solumnity, proclaiming with a sweep of one dripping hoof, “M’lady, your castle is now clear.”

In almost perfect silence, Green Grass slipped out of bed and down the stairs in the direction of the library bathroom. Many nights of surreptitious sneaking in his college years helped his quiet tread, but the snores emerging from Twilight and Spike’s respective beds revealed his wasted effort. He could have tap-danced downstairs to the bathroom and they would have slept through it. The gloom of a cloudy night did not help as the young stallion fumbled around on the main floor, attempting to find the familiar bathroom in the stygian darkness. After his fumbling finally found the door in question, he swung it open and froze in instinctive terror when his hoof touched another as he turned on the light.

The mare was almost a perfect duplicate of the pony he saw in the mirror every morning, except for a rumpled orange bow on top of her head instead of his familiar rumpled hat, and her color was more the green of a healthy gardenia than ordinary grass. Fear turned to understanding, and then to exasperation as they both turned around and bellowed up the stairs to their respective forgetful magical mates.

After a mumbled apology, they each excused themselves and stumbled on their way to their correct dimension’s bathroom with Green Grass musing silently to himself about his counterpart.

I really have lost weight around the flanks. Looks good on me. No wonder Dusk— Oh, stars! I’m attracted to myself!

“…while we both learned to always take a guide when exploring strange, new places…”

The door in the Canterlot castle slammed open only long enough for Twilight Sparkle and Green Grass to dash out into the corridor before slamming it back shut and leaning against it, panting for breath. Twilight regained the ability to speak first, and managed to put a sarcastic tone into her panting gasps. “It’s just a mirror. Right. Didn’t I tell you about mirrors?”

Green Grass grimaced while dragging a nearby bench over to prop up against the closed door. “You said 'It’s never just a mirror, it’s either an evil device that sucks in souls, or shows you scenes of horrible possible futures, or a portal to a twisted alternate universe, or turns whoever looks into it into seaponies, or it creates unspeakable evil duplicates.’ You didn’t say anything about this particular mirror. Besides, don’t you have a mirror in your bedroom?”

“Yes,” snapped Twilight with a wince as she magically fortified the door. “Luna has started to use it as a way to talk to me in dreams, and to scare the horseapples out of me. She calls it ‘Training.’ I call it… something else.”

“…so I would say modestly that I’ve learned more in one year’s worth of odd weekends and rare weekly visits with your student than I did in all my years of college.”

“Funny you should put it that way.” There was a clink of teacup against saucer and the rustle of paper, which Green Grass tried his best to ignore while continuing to look out into the glittering city. “Prince Blueblood, of all ponies, has been sniffing around your old school records. Is there anything you would like to confess to your teacher about your academic career before he blunders into it?”

“No. Should there be?” He managed to put a bit of innocence into his answer, even as sweat began to break out under his suit coat.

“I took the liberty of looking over some of your academic records myself. Quite impressive.”

The drops of sweat became a thin stream, and he had to fight to keep his eyes focused on the city spread out below. “Not so much. Just low A’s and B’s and one D within my educational major.”

“But your fraternity went from a C average to A’s during your tenure at school. Your academic record would have placed you firmly in their top tier during your last years, if not for the abrupt and intense interest of your peers in their scholastic achievements.”

Don’t look at her. She will be able to tell you’re lying if you look at her. Ponyfeathers, she probably knows that already.

There was a faint noise that might have possibly been a Royal Giggle. “Yes. My sister and I have found you most educational.”

I’ve learned that quite a few Royal Guard retire to the country to start up physical fitness gyms, self-defense classes, or farms that are tragically short on physical labor, all of which have no problem asking for help from a certain slightly-overweight tutor when he’s in town. I’ve learned that there are more retired Canterlot music teachers, etiquette teachers, and debate teachers per capita in small rural towns than I had ever imagined, and they all seem to know just where I am on my studies as they ‘volunteer’ to teach me their specialties. Which is not bad, I suppose, considering just who I’m attempting to romance.

“I understand congratulations are in order.” Celestia’s calm voice put an ice-cold bolt of shock of concern for Twilight Sparkle up his spine, and his first thought was to count weeks back to their last intimate moments together. It was a surprisingly large number.

Celestia’s voice continued, “Ninth place in Milo City’s Running of the Leaves this year is quite good. I understand your students convinced you to compete.”

A faint unclenching of nervous muscles continued as Green Grass replied, “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Strange how you always were only one point or two away from awards that would have properly recognized your scholastic achievement while working on your education degree.”

“Yes, Your Highness?” intoned Green Grass automatically, trying not to eye the dining room door as an emergency escape route.

“But your scores before you switched majors to education.” Celestia clucked her tongue and rustled some papers out of his line of sight. “Shocking.”

The rustling continued, the sounds of loose papers being stuck back into a folder and put away into some container where they might hopefully never emerge into night or day. It seemed a much better idea to continue to stare out into the night and not have to meet those ancient violet eyes who seemed to be able to see into the darkest and dustiest corner of his mind, although he began to feel somewhat guilty at treating Twilight Sparkle’s teacher in this fashion. He would never have turned away from Twilight, so he ever so slowly turned to face a smiling Princess Celestia and her sparkling eyes.

There were times when it was best to remain silent. It was another thing Green Grass had been learning, although slowly, but he could not help but utter a quiet and curious, “Hmm?”

As the distant chariot flew around a tower, Princess Celestia cleared her throat and began to quietly sing the refrain from ‘Annie.’

♫ I think you’re going to like it here ♫

“Oh, no.” Green Grass glanced out the balcony, trying to calculate just how far off the ground the private dining room was, and if he could make it off the ledge, slide down one of the banners, and make his escape into the Royal Gardens before Celestia snagged him with her magic. “No musical numbers.”

“But you sang such a delightful Sancho in your college production of ‘Don Rocinante.’ I was not able to be in the audience, but I was close enough to listen to you sing in rehearsals.”

“Oh, no. No way.” She can’t actually make you sing. Be strong. Will of steel.

“And I manage to attend the Young Canterlot Childrens Theatre every year. Your assistance with their production of ‘Annie’ back in your Sophomore years was magnificent. I’ve never heard the young ones sing so well in all the years I’ve attended.”

“If you expect to be with Twilight for long, you’re going to get into a musical number eventually. I can guarantee it.”

“You’ll talk to Pinkie Pie if I don’t agree, right?” Celestia did not have to say a word. She just remained smiling while a quartet of identically-dressed female nocturnal pegasi fluttered down and perched inside the balcony rail, carefully arranging their sheet music and testing their voices quietly with a pitch pipe.

“Key of D please, ladies. It matches my grades, I suppose.” After standing up to get a proper amount of air into his diaphragm, Green Grass began to reluctantly sing⁽*⁾.

♫ I was prepared to take each test, I studied hard like all the rest
But every time it went like spit, I just wasn’t prepared for it.
Engineering should have been a breeze, the prerequisites I passed with ease
But every time a quiz I took, it seemed I had not seen the book!♫

♫ I could not pass, but only fail, my grades were blown ♫
(The Nocturne mares chorused, “♫ His grades were blown ♫”)

♫ My parents cried, my teachers wept, my fate unknown ♫
(♫ His fate unknown ♫)
(*) The Failure Song, words by G. Grass, tune by Daniel Ingram

“Wait a moment,” interrupted Princess Celestia. “That’s all very nice, but it’s the wrong key for your vocal range. We wouldn’t want you to sprain a vocal cord. Why don’t you pep it up a little with a different tune in B Major. After all...”

“Very well, Your Highness.” Green Grass arranged himself, taking a sip of tea to soothe his throat and calm his nerves before launching into a different tune⁽¹⁾.

♫ I could have been a lawyer, a fine aristocrat
But my poor Law grades in college kept me far away from that
I tried so hard to please them, as anyone could see
It had to be my destiny, for it’s what my mom and dad were telling me ♫

♫ Calculus was too hard, and so was Equish Lit
For my scores they weren’t improving, they all just looked like spit
Chem and Engineering, they all confused me so
It had to be my destiny, or my mom and dad would not have made me go ♫

♫ My frat brothers were worried, so they showed me what to drink
but despite their vast experience, it did not help me to think
From kegs to brandy bottles, a booze-soaked school degree
It was specific density, for my alcoholic friends said it to me ♫

♫ The dean, he met my parents and they had a few sharp words
In their esteemed opinion, my school was for the birds
A compromise they settled, a teacher I would be
ABC’s and 123’s, were what my GPA was telling me ♫

♫ The school was very happy, for my scores they did improve
and my parents were relieved that I had seemed to find my groove
In the frat house, we did party, mares were packed in hoove to hoove ♫

♫ My college fees — Would useful be ♫
(♫ his college fees) — (would useful be ♫)

♫ For it’s what my GPA, its what my GPA, yes it’s what my GPA was telling me. ♫
(♫ it’s what my GPA, it’s what my GPA, yes it’s what my GPA was telling me )
(1) The Lament of the Educational Major, words by G. Grass, tune by Daniel Ingram again.

“Excellent!” Celestia applauded vigorously, as did the choir before fluttering back up and out of sight. “I would ask for an encore performance, but I think we’re treading rather firmly on a copyright here.”

“More than one, Your Highness.” Green Grass opened his mouth, paused, and looked out the window again. It took until he had sat back down and chased down a chocolate biscuit with a rather long drink of tea before he could continue. “Were those mail service uniforms worn by the choir?”

“Yes, a rather brilliant idea by my sister. She plans on revamping the postal service.”

“It seems to work fairly well now, Your Highness. I post a letter in Hoofington, and a few days later Ditzy delivers it to some random citizen of Ponyville, who brings it to Twilight when they have a chance.”

Celestia gave a rather embarrassed cough. “Well, with the system Luna is proposing, that letter you post in Hoofington would be flown that evening to a central sorting area, and pre-dawn flown back out to the destination, where I suppose Ditzy would deliver it as normal. She’s proposed Ponyville as a ‘hub’ for the project and hired nearly a dozen of her nocturnal pegasi for the test.”

“All mares, I presume?” The clannish Nocturne were almost never seen during the day, and kept their mares at home doing ‘Traditional’ labors, such as caring for the foals and managing the family finances, some of which had grown to astonishingly large sums. Luna had rather firmly made her opinion known about what she considered a waste of talent, and had been taking the subtle approach to solving what she saw as a problem.

For a moment, Green Grass was tempted to ask just how the Nocturne families had reacted to having their sheltered mares actually working outside the traditional home, before remembering the deity-like reverence they had for Princess Luna. They would not object to just a few of their precious mares working in the outside world, if it were at the direction of their precious Princess of the Moon. And when the postal program expanded to a few more cities where the far-flung Nocturne had clans, a few more of them would be hired, and a few more, until—

“A side-effect of her program will be a mail-wagon flying through Ponyville every morning and evening on its way to and from surrounding communities. When the program is officially announced, she will have need of an independent evaluator to ride along and report on the effectiveness of the program. Somepony to write reports, who preferably resides in Ponyville, and has a need to visit surrounding communities on a daily basis. Like a certain educational specialist in young unicorn magic.”

“Oh.” Green Grass blinked and turned his gaze from the darkened city of Canterlot to the moonlit valley where Ponyville glittered in the distance. No more spending weeks away from Twilight in distant rural villages in order to be able to tutor young unicorns in their newfound magical talents. He would be able to catch a ride from the Ponyville library to his far-flung teaching locations at breakfast, have his classes, and be back in the library at dark. No more finding out what dangerous activities Twilight and her friends had been up to by way of letters delivered weeks after the events were long over. Far fewer long, cold nights apart.

The princess’ smooth voice continued, “Provided you can get your flight vertigo issues under control, that is.”

“I believe with experience my issues may be controllable,” he replied almost automatically, while thinking of just where he was going to be leaving his alarm clock and toothbrush on a permanent basis. Of course, there was a step that needed to be accomplished before he could feel comfortable with a permanent arrangement of this sort. And if he was thinking it, he was quite certain both Celestia and Luna had thought the exact same thought, which warranted at least a response from the tutor.

“And you called me a manipulator. Thank you, and thank Princess Luna for me too, please.”

Celestia merely smiled, tipping the teapot to refresh his tea before asking a question.

The tutor sipped his warmed tea and looked out into the dark city before sitting his porcelain cup back down on the saucer. A lightness lifted his heart in a sensation of floating, amplified by the sight of the city lights below. There was a long metaphorical drop at his hooves in more ways than one, but he had never felt more ready to step forward.

“Well. There is something I’ve been meaning to ask you if I should ask you. Maybe I should ask before asking…” He paused at Celestia’s introspective look, and continued rapidly. “I better just ask, or I’ll ask myself into a circle and wind up in another song. Before I ask Twilight for her hoof in marriage, should I ask your permission first? After all, she is your student, and she views you as almost a second mother except for…”

Celestia giggled and put one hoof casually on Green Grass’ shoulder to slow him down. It took a few moments for him to run to the end of his thought before he picked his teacup back up and took another drink, accidentally spilling some tea down his chin in his haste.

Gracefully picking her own teacup up in her magic, Celestia took a sip before replying. “Of course you don’t need to ask my permission, silly. Asking your sovereign for permission to wed has been out of fashion for decades.”

“Oh. Whew.” After a moment’s reflection on just what the blink of an eye ‘decades’ was to the immortal princess, Green Grass dropped to his knees with a thump and bowed his head.

“Princess Celestia, may I have your permission to wed your student, Twilight Sparkle?”

He could not see the reaction of the princess to his request, but he could hear the faint click of a teacup being set down and what may have just possibly been the faintest sniff of an incipient tear. When she spoke again, her voice was as solemn and somber as if she were speaking to an assembly of nobles about the future of Equestria.

“Have you the resources to take care of your bride in the fashion to which she deserves?”

“ And do you truly love this mare with every fibre of your being, willing to pledge your loyalty to her until death separates you?”

“And do you promise to let me tell Luna first, so I can see the expression on her face?”

The sniff that he had been suppressing turned into a snort. “Yes, Your Highness. I wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

Any cowpony of the wild west would have been envious of the speed of Green Grass’ draw, producing the thin ring case to Celestia for her intense inspection.

“A perfect cut of a flawless gem, just like Twilight. Although…” Green Grass paused, a horrible idea rising in his mind. “Unless I’m not the first to wish for her hoof in marriage.”

Green Grass had to look away while his stomach churned, trying to resist asking about a long-present thread of anxiety which surfaced everytime he listened to Twilight Sparkle talk about her teacher. Celestia remained thankfully silent while he thought, and eventually he decided to blurt it out despite his worries.

“If you produced the same ring for Twilight, she would say yes before you could even ask.”

A warm shadow fell over him as Princess Celestia patted him gently on the cheek with a smile. “Don’t be silly, dear boy. Now please, rise with my permission, and my blessing.”

Green Grass got up from his kneeling position with a sudden urge to look around, deeply relieved that Princess Celestia still seemed to be the only pony who had witnessed his ordeal. At one time, the close proximity of Her Royal Highness would have caused him more anxiety than he could handle, but the last year’s experience had muted his panic-prone instincts, which he was still trying to determine if it was a good or bad thing. Tucking the ring back inside his jacket, he sighed.

“You don’t think anypony saw that, did you? I’d hate for rumors to go screaming around town like they did the time your Herald introduced me as your Consort that one memorable night.”

The Princess of the Sun nodded with an enigmatic smile. “Don’t worry, Lord Green Grass. I’ve taken measures to ensure that type of incident never happens again.”

In a tall building fairly near the castle, a unicorn stopped his surreptitious activity and began to pack his gear in preparation for a rapid retreat. A pink aura surrounded the telephoto-lens equipped camera as Blotter began to disassemble it with his magic, feeling a warm glow to his insides at the thought of upcoming headlines and exclusive articles, drawing his mind to dreams of awards and beautiful, lovely bits, in huge piles.

“Princess Celestia to Wed Prince Green Grass in Musical Ceremony,” he muttered, placing the camera into its padded case with all the soft attention of multi-million bit eggs. “Secret Lover Tells All In Song. Celestia’s Star Pupil In Lover’s Trio. Wedding Bells and Baby Showers. Ooo, I like that one.”

The old newspaper unicorn lifted his equipment to float behind him as he turned to leave, only to stop cold as a charcoal-grey Night Guard seemed to materialize out of the darkness directly in front of his nose.

“Good evening, Mister Blotter,” said the large Night Pegasus, so close to Blotter his breath fogged the reporter’s glasses, blotting out the terrifying view of the Nocturne’s grim visage. “My name is Optio Pumpernickel of the Royal Guard, Night Division. I think we need to have a little lesson about privacy and how it applies to the Princesses.” As two more huge Night Guards stepped out of the shadows at the shoulders of Pumpernickel and lumbered their places to either side of the newspaperpony, the guard smiled with sharp teeth. “If you would be so good as to be seated, Lieutenant Daisy Cutter and Lieutenant Plowshare would be very happy to further your education.”

The aftermath of dinner fell behind Green Grass as he walked alone through the corridors of the castle. After their nighttime chariot ride had concluded and both passengers were returned unharmed and quite thrilled, Princess Celestia had taken Princess Sunny back to the diplomatic quarters and Friday had departed for wherever he called home, leaving the tutor the simple task of returning to his castle suite and sleeping until whatever the morning would bring.

Even that simple task seemed to be beyond him this evening. His sleepless mind carried him along the corridors, but not in the direction of his room. Instead, he found himself outside the offices of Diplomatic Support Services, where a humorless pony dressed in the armor of the Night Guard carefully inspected him before granting access. It had been a busy night, but as long as he was on a roll, there was one long-avoided task that really needed to be completed this evening.

Knocking once on the half-open door of the Director, Green Grass plodded inside at the muffled, “Yeah, come in.” He had visited Night Light at the office a few times before, normally in the company of his daughter, Twilight Sparkle, but the question he was about to ask did not come up at that time, for obvious reasons. There must have been a primitive ‘nesting’ instinct in Twilight’s family, a comfort at being surrounded by large numbers of books and papers, which in Green Grass’ case, he could sympathize with totally. Night Light’s office was a ‘working’ office, not the spotless chrome and glass offices of the power brokers and elite, but a combination between an explosion in a paper mill and a library storage room. Books and papers covered every one of the multiple tables and chairs scattered around, as well as a significant portion of floor and the cluttered windowsills except for a small potted fern which sat thirstily in the window. Night Light himself was almost invisible behind a wall of papers glowing with his golden magic, detectable only by the raspy scratching of his quill, and after a few minutes of waiting, his impatient voice.

Green Grass paused before deciding this was one bandage that would hurt less if just ripped straight off. “May I marry your daughter, sir?”

After a sufficient amount of time for Twilight’s father to change his mind, or possibly expand on his short response, Green Grass turned to leave. “Thank you, sir.”

After a final bit of scribbling, the cloud of papers surrounding Twilight's father shuffled themselves back to their appropriate files and the overworked stallion looked at Green Grass with bloodshot eyes.

“No! We’ve been very careful,” blurted out Green Grass before realizing what he had said. However, he did stay quiet after his startled words, a marked improvement caused by a years worth of experience.

Night Light did not seem to notice his outburst, but dug a chipped coffee mug out from under a pile of papers with a grunt of acceptance. To Green Grass’ scandalized horror, the well-worn mug was inscribed ‘To The Bestest Daddy!’ in a colorful foalish scrawl with a recognizable scribble of a blue unicorn and a tiny purple filly on the side, hugging in the middle of a pile of books. Twilight’s father ignored his future son-in-law’s panic and took a deep drink from the thick coffee, chewing cautiously afterwards. “Thought I should at least warn you. There’s three generations behind her where that question is answered ‘yes,’ including mine. I haven’t had the nerve to ask my son about Princess Cadence yet. Think I’ll just wait a year. So what did Princess Celestia say?”

Green Grass was still getting his mental hooves back under him, but managed to answer, “Yes. How did you know I asked her?”

Switching to nearly-unaccented Griffon, Night Light responded, “Because you’re smarter than you look. How was your dinner with Princess Sun Shines over the Misty Mountains?”

Caught unaware, Green Grass took a moment to clear his throat and reply in his own fairly good Griffon. “Very educational. Her Highness is a very intelligent squab, with strong talons and a sunny, um—” Not able to find the word he wanted in Griffon, he switched back to Equestrian “—brilliant future ahead of her. I take it negotiations between her grandfather and Luna are going—” The sharp glance Night Light gave him prompted a second change in conversational direction “—as well as could be expected, officially. I’m positive with the leadership provided by our princesses, harmony between griffons and ponies shall endure for the foreseeable future.”

Night Light gave a sharp nod and the papers on his desk shuffled about, surrounded by his golden magic aura. “We learn until we die. It’s too bad all of the details of the negotiations are classified, son, or I’d like to get your opinion on something. Whoops. Could you grab that for me?” A single sheet of paper drifted to the floor, boosted by a golden magical glow. Green Grass scooped it up and moved to put it back on the table, his eyes unconsciously translating the griffon runes until he froze in place.

Golden magic gently tugged at the paper in his hooves until Night Light shook his head and floated over another few sheets for the tutor’s perusal. “Well, I guess since you accidently stumbled onto the griffon demand that we send one of the Elements of Harmony to live in their aerie, there’s nothing I can do but swear you to secrecy over the ongoing negotiations.” He tersely motioned the tutor to a nearby chair, which he cleared by magically sending all the contents tumbling onto the already-cluttered floor.

“The short answer is, ‘I still don’t know if they’re serious.’ The long answer is ‘Like hell I’m sending my daughter.’”

Green Grass settled into the chair, musing to himself out loud while reading. “Their stated reason seems to be their fear that the Elements of Harmony could be used as some sort of doomsday weapon, and removing one of the bearers would make it ‘safe’ for the rest of Equestria. The rest of the griffons would be just paranoid enough to go along with their demands. Luna and Celestia would never allow anypony to be held hostage like that, although I’d be tempted to send Pinkie Pie, just to make them regret their decision.” Night Light snorted as the tutor rattled onward. “So if this is just a bargaining ploy, the only other thing they could really be after is control of this ‘Crystal Empire’ that just popped up near them. Pretty darned pushy for a bunch who didn’t even know there was a Crystal Empire until a few days ago, but they are griffons.”

“Tell me something new,” grumbled Night Light. “You spent the day with Princess Sun Shines. Did she let anything slip that might indicate they’re planning a preemptive strike to put them in control of the Empire.”

“Against a whole empire? With only a hundred griffons, and most of them too old for fighting? How big is this Crystal Empire, anyway?”

“My son’s report says one city with a population of a few thousand, earth ponies mostly, although there are a few pegasi and unicorns in the population. They were pretty well subjugated by King Sombra before they were cursed into a thousand year slumber, so I wouldn’t count on any kind of military force. Both he and Princess Cadence are exhausted enough that putting up his shield over the city would be a risky long-shot. There’s supposed to be some magical protection in the empire that is related to the daytime aurora borealis display that fired up this afternoon, but nothing physical. A dozen griffons could probably take over the whole place before the Royal Guard could go through the logistics of deploying.”

“It would be a slaughter. Like two hundred years ago, only worse.” Green Grass winced inside as he realized his prospective father-in-law’s real son and royal daughter-in-law were most likely still in the city, and given Shining Armor’s stubborn nature, most likely would remain there to protect the city even if the sky were filled with invading griffons. It seemed to be a family trait.

Night Light’s expression of calm detachment did not change one iota. “Any dissention in the ranks that Princess Sunny let slip?”

“No. None at all. She said Grandpa ‘whomps’ anygriffon who squawks out of his line.” Green Grass remained in his seat, leafing through the collection of diplomatic demands and analysis while Night Light returned to his work. There were a number of historical diplomatic parallels to their positions over the last few centuries, but all of them had ended rather badly for the griffons. Still, even after sitting for far too long and examining the papers until they began to blur in his sight, there was only one conclusion he could reach.

“If Grandpa is crazy, or if he can get reinforcements from other aeries, he’ll do it just for the glory it would bring his nest. I presume Princess Celestia has already sent the guard to...” Green Grass trailed off at a sharp glance from Night Light. “Oh. Troop movements are classified. Right. That’s as good as I can guess, sir.”

“Your brother Graphite gave me the same evaluation a few hours ago before Luna reclaimed him for further debriefing. If you notice a few less brightly-polished Royal Guards in the castle tomorrow—”

“Won’t say a word. Although you may want to arrange some entertainment for his granddaughter outside the castle tomorrow. When I say she’s bright, I mean she’s going to be Twilight bright when she’s grown up.”

As Green Grass said his goodbyes to Twilight Sparkle’s father and made his way back to his suite alone, he could not help but think of the griffon fledgeling and her uncertain future held at the whim of her elders and their attempts to recapture glory long passed away. History was supposed to repeat itself, but the thought of the helpless griffon princess being swept up in a bloody war and having her light snuffed out so early in her life made his hooves drag along the cold marble floors of the castle as he returned to his cold bed.

If anyone would like to record the songs used in this story, please notify the author and a van with very nice gentlestallions wearing white coats will stop by to help you with the process. (and I’ll link to your recording, unless it sounds like my singing in which case I’ll save your hearing)

The Traveling Tutor and the Diplomats Daughter

by Georg

Ch. 5 - Proper Permission Protocol