//------------------------------// // Chapter 25 - Headlines and Headaches: Part 1 // Story: Contact // by Gron //------------------------------// It was the light thud against the front door that woke Cherry Blossom. The pink-maned pegasus jerked up with a gasp, her brain scrambling to orient itself with its surroundings whilst fighting the cobwebs of sleep that clung to it. Hearing a flap of wings as whoever it was presumably took to the air and flew off, she dove under the covers, trembling violently, her pupils dilated as she tried to regulate her breathing. She reached out with a trembling hoof, shaking the warm body next to her.   “M-Magnus! Magnus! Wake up!” she shout-whispered at her still slumbering husband. The massive earth pony continued his light snoring, much to her chagrin. What sort of stallion kept sleeping while his mate was in mortal danger? The one next to her apparently.   So, she used her most effective method for getting him awake: a sharp pinch on his behind. With a strangled moan, the stallion cracked one bleary eye open slightly before letting out a massive yawn. Reaching out a tired hoof for the blanket, he pulled it up and was greeted by the sight of his wife shaking in terror. “Cheer? Whazz it isss?” he mumbled incoherently, his mouth dry and his eyes resisting most attempts to fully open. He peeped at the clock on the table at the side of the bed. “’S not even sunrise yet.” With the loss of his blanket, he scooted over to the warm body of his wife and pressed himself against her, smiling lazily as he draped a hoof around her and snuggled her. Unfortunately, his wife wasn’t in a reciprocating mood. “Somepony was at the door.” Her whisper squeezed its way through clenched teeth. “I think they were trying to break in.”   He popped an eye open. “’S probably the delivery colt bringing the morn’ paper.”   “Or it could be some axe pony trying to kill us in our sleep!” At her frantic pleas, Magnus raised off the bed unsteadily, passing a hoof through his tousled mane.   “Must we go through this every day, Cheer?” It was a rhetorical statement. There was no judgement or malice in his tone. He had long accepted that this was part of who his wife was and had come to learn how to bear it with patience, making incidents like this a routine part of the day. “C-Could you just check and make sure?” He was already swinging his hooves onto the cold ground with a grunt, taking his time as he shuffled out of the room and to the front door. He opened it slowly and peered out carefully. While his wife’s paranoia had certainly dulled whatever caution he had, it never hurt to be safe. Looking around, he saw there was nopony around. Indeed, the entire street in their section of Canterlot was quiet, save for one or two early risers who waved at him, which he politely returned. Shivering slightly at the slightly nippy morning, he looked down at his doorstep, and lo and behold, there was the morning paper as expected. Picking it up in his mouth, he backed into the warmth of his home and nudged the door close. He turned around, only to be met with the sight of his wife holding a rolling pin in her wing while peering around the corner.   “D-Did you find anything?” she asked warily. In response, he dropped the rolled up newspaper and rolled it towards her with a nudge of his hoof. She eyed it for a while before picking it up.   “Just the papers like I said.” He twisted his neck a bit and checked the clock. He could probably still sneak in an extra ten minutes of sleep before he had to get ready for work. Ten extra, glorious minutes that— A shriek of pure fright snapped him out of his thoughts, and he did not have any time to brace for the impact as his wife literally flew into him and latched onto his body. Though he was an earth pony of stocky build, he had to catch himself to avoid falling as Cherry trembled in his embrace. “W-We need to l-leave. They’re coming for us! THEY’RE COMING!” She burst into tears while hyperventilating, weakly pointing towards the newspaper.   “Wha? What is it?” Magnus had seen his wife in varying states of stress and panic before, but this was the first time in the longest while where she had been at the point of a total meltdown.   “A-A-A-Al—” And with that, her eyes rolled in the her head, and she slumped against him, her unconscious body going limp.   Magnus sighed. He was going to miss those ten minutes.   *** “Get yer Canterlot Daily here! Only a bit a copy!” The young colt was certainly somepony of considerable interest in Manehatten that morning, as those early risers in the city were eager to consume news from the capital city. It was not often that a newspaper from Canterlot made its way to them so quickly, after all. To the colt’s joy, they had begun selling like hot cakes, and soon he found himself with a nearly exhausted supply. His thoughts of how many bits he had made were interrupted when he found himself being stared down by two very peculiar ponies. Or rather, his newspaper was being looked at. They were two lanky stallions, both near identical in their appearance: yellowish tan coat, blue and white pinstripe shirts with matching bow ties and straw hats, bright red manes and tails with clashing white stripes with bright green eyes. Their only distinguishing features was that one had a magnificent and neatly trimmed moustache with an apple with a slice cut out of it for a cutie mark. The other's cutie mark was just a slice of an apple with the stem and a leaf attached, almost as if it were cut out of the other's own mark. “I do declare!” one said in exaggerated surprise.   “How absurdly interesting, I must swear!” exclaimed the other, twirling his moustache.   “Positively breath-taking!”   “So astonishing I’m almost quaking!”   “Most utterly chaotic!” “And quite exotic!”   “Why, it’s almost—” Much to their chagrin, their enthusiastic conversation was cut off by the murmuring of the crowd around them as the newspaper colt backed away in wariness. Given their past… indiscretions, the pair had developed a keen sense of when it was best if they quickly left. Therefore, they both adopted their most winsome smiles. “Sorry for the bother, folks. We’ll have one of your fine wares.” The moustached twin flipped the colt a coin as the other grabbed a newspaper, and they both trotted away hastily. They rounded the corner and came across their wagon. They both quickly entered and spread it open.   “Would we take the chance, brother?” the moustache pony asked quietly.   “I believe we should, brother. After all, with our last act being destroyed, it is time to find another.”   “But what about those troublesome ladies? No doubt they would try to halt out magnificent production!”   “Hmph, those marvellous mares may still be defeated. Perhaps it is time we try our hooves at seduc—”   Before he could finish, there was a banging at the side of the wagon, causing them to flinch before poking their heads through windows. Outside, an angry scowl on his face, stood a city guard. “I’ve been getting complaints about two unicorns matching your description. Harassment of ponies, parking your contraption illegally, said contraption not being registered…” The guard continued reading from his list before looking up to see what they had to say for themselves.   “Why, officer, nothing could be further from the truth!” Moustachio fixed him with his oiliest smile, but the guard was unmoved. “Indeed, if all that were true, we would be nothing better than brutes!” The head of his brother disappeared back into the wagon.   “But I do suppose we need to now go.” At that, the guard made to move towards the wagon but was stopped as it started to shake and groan. He leapt back as a loud plume of steam shot out from on top, and the wagon began to move for itself.   “After all, the show must go on!” And with that, the wagon shot off, leaving a bewildered guard and crowd in its wake. *** Blossom had been lounging in the grassy clearing near a quiet stream, surrounded by a wild and free garden of flowers and plants. She could make out some Epipogium aphyllum, Cypripedium calceolus, Cosmos atrosanguineus, and so many other rare and exotic beauties.   However, her focus was devoted to the handsomely rugged stallion in front of her. He was tall, yet stockily built, just broad enough at the withers to make his strong, muscular barrel stand out. His legs were thick, with unkempt fetlocks brushing over his hooves, his thick neck leading to a stout head with a strong, squared jaw line and solid muzzle. His mane was short and crisply cut, as was his tail. He had a large figure – not fat, but with enough muscle and meat on his bones to look like he could bring a house down if he wanted to. It was his eyes, though. Eyes that made the butterflies in her stomach flutter. Eyes that promised she would be ravished and beg for more. Eyes that promised she would sing a song she had not sung in a very long time. Eyes that promised that every moan, every thrust would be even more fulfilling than the last.   That Blossom had actually been dreaming was surprising enough. She infrequently did so, often finding herself immersed in hazy blackness until she woke up. The fact that she had been having a pleasant dream made it even more of a  rare occasion. So when Ardent Zeal burst into their room that morning, muttering gibberish, waving a newspaper frantically, and causing her to wake up from a pleasant state, Blossom was understandably somewhat… irritated.   Still, some might say that catching the idiot with green magical tendrils that shot out of her horn, wrapping him tightly, constricting most possible movement except a little needed to get some air in, and leaving him pressed up against the ceiling of the room may have been a bit too drastic. “Mmmphh! Mhhhmmm!” was all that Ardent could get out as he futilely tried to struggle against his restraints. In response, they only wrapped around him tighter, making his supply of oxygen an ever-increasing precious commodity. Even worse, he had an angry mare below him who looked just about ready to pulverize him, and he had no escape in sight. While Ardent had dabbled in some forms of bondage with several of his past partners, this was not what he had in mind.   “What the buck are you doing?” she hissed at the captive stallion, who was still twisting as much as he could. Her face was contorted in anger and frustration. How dare this foal, this unimaginative, peppy floozy. How dare he just prance into the room and interrupt her dreams just as things were getting good?   Her internal shouting and cursing at poor Ardent was cut short as her magic was suddenly disrupted, causing the stallion to quickly fall towards the ground and drop onto the carpeted floor with a loud thud. As he lay there, prostrate, moaning quietly from the pain of the drop, Blossom swivelled around to face whoever had obviously wanted to earn her ire so early in the morning. Pushing aside her long, chestnut brown hair that was suffering a bad case of bed mane, her eyes landed on Blue Streak, the stallion coolly, almost lazily, regarding her from his bed. “And what do you think you’re doing?” If Blue Streak noticed the scorn and derision in her voice, and it was very hard to miss, he either ignored it or didn’t care.   “Stopping you from murdering one of our team members simply because you were pent up,” he replied flatly, not bothering to even look in her direction.   “As though you care about whether or not he lives or dies,” she shot back, averting her eyes from the stallion, the faintest of red briefly appearing on her cheeks before disappearing. Meanwhile, Ardent had woozily made it back onto his hooves, his main concern seemingly to keep himself on them without collapsing again.   “No, I don’t particularly care. What I do care about, and so should you, are the potential consequences. I am not going to risk all that I have worked for to get to the level I am at and the position I hold just so that you could relieve your frustrations. I’m also not going to let you risk that. Disposing of one of the personal students of a department head would most certainly count as a risk. So leave him alone.” The deadly glare that Blue sent her poured some water on her inner inferno of rage. As impressive as her magic was, her talents were mainly involved with plants – she was no battle mage.   “Hmph. Very well then. Ardent Zeal, I offer my most profound apologies for my rash and impulsive attack. I do hope that, in time, you can find it in yourself to forgive this mare.” She finished with an eloquent bow.   “Uhh… no problem,” Ardent croaked as Blue Streak snorted in contempt, rubbing his delicate throat and gingerly moving about to make sure nothing was seriously injured. He was seriously beginning to regret accepting this mission so happily. Who the heck attacked somepony just because they were having a dream? Blossom, that was who.   “Why the hay were you running about like a headless chicken in the first place?” At the question, Ardent’s eyes opened widely. In the immediate aftermath of Blossom’s assault, he had forgotten the real reason he had been in such a hurry. The aches about his body temporarily pushed aside, he grabbed the newspaper that had been discarded and pushed it towards them.   “Check the front page!” He should have just saved his breath – the section of interest was right in front their eyes. Soon, Blossom and Blue Streak were both competing for the longest frown in the room, matching the same reaction Ardent had had when he had first spotted it in the lobby of the hotel they were staying in. Blossom was the first to say something. She took in a deep breath before exhaling, adopting the neutral mask she had always worn. It was too late for Ardent in that regard – he had seen how she could be under that façade, and he didn’t particularly care for it.   “This is most troubling indeed.” A flat, stoic statement,  contrasting greatly to the worry digging inside Ardent’s own stomach.   “Troubling is an understatement.” At least Blue Streak agreed with him somewhat. “If what is printed here is true, then this changes everything.”   “Perhaps, if and only if this is accurate. I have my doubts in that regard.”   “Still, it is one of the few leads we’ve had since he arrived here. I’d trust this rag more than the words of a griffon in any case.” Ardent winced. It seemed that Blue Streak had not forgotten about Blossom’s slight dig at them yesterday evening, and the frosty look on the mare’s face said that she knew exactly who he had thrown it towards.   “I still believe that our agreed to plan will be the best course of action.” Ardent took a step back as the mare advanced upon them. Having just so recently suffered her wrath, he was not in a hurry to get in the firing line with her involved.   “And yet from what you told us, your friend doesn’t even know if what went on with the meeting with Celestia has anything to do with the creature! This, on the other hoof, might actually lead us to it.” Blue Streak certainly wasn’t giving any quarter as he stood and drew himself to his full size, towering over the mare. “Err, guys?” Ardent took another step back as both their heads whipped around to look at him. He had to gulp to wet his throat that had suddenly gone dry.   “What is it, colt?” Despite himself, he felt his pride flare up at Blossom’s words. Just like these two, he was still a personal student to one of the department heads, who was one of the most respected ponies in his field of study. He didn’t deserve to be treated like some hapless underling who slept on the couch and was thrown around and abused just because somepony was angry.   “I was going to say that we should just split up. Blossom can go talk to her friend in the Griffonian embassy, and you can go check out the newspaper and find out if what they’ve printed here has any truth to it.” Ardent resisted the urge to facehoof as the cold fury on their faces switched to speculative ones as they considered the fairly obvious course of action. For being two of the brightest minds in the Academy, it was as though they lost all sense of objectivity and rationality when they got angry. Unfortunately for him, they got angry all too often for his liking.   “Works for me.” Blue Streak twisted his neck to both sides and headed off towards the bathroom. Blossom chose to stare at him with an almost curious look on her face as he hobbled over to her vacated bed and slumped down on it.   “And what are you going to be doing?” He thought she would have said something about him occupying her bed, but she refrained from doing so. It was the first time that morning that her tone did not contain any anger, disdain, or contempt. She simply sounded interested in his plans.   Ardent let out a long, drawn out sigh, feeling the aches across his sore body wash over him again as he relaxed. “I think… I’m just going to lie here and try not to die.” He did not know whether to be annoyed or happy that she actually giggled at that. *** The period just after sunrise was one quietly enjoyed by every guard, be it the the normal Royal Guard or Celestia’s personal Solar Guard. It was the time when there were no supplicants coming in from the city or from across the country to petition Princess Celestia, meaning that the Guards were free from having to run checks against those who wanted to enter the halls of Canterlot Palace and having to keep those who waited in line from becoming too impatient or belligerent.   It was also a break from having to keep several well-known nobles and Canterlot elites at bay. While most knew how to conduct themselves and go through the proper channels when they wanted to contact the princess, there were always those who thought themselves special, better than everypony else who patiently waited their turn. Perhaps they even thought that Princess Celestia would be anxiously awaiting their arrival and would drop everything in order to host them. Those were the ones who would often shout at the Guards, using every ploy such as ‘Do you know who I am?’, ‘Don’t you know who my father was?’, and the ever popular, ‘If you don’t let me through right now, you’ll be without a job within the hour!’ For all their threats, not a single guard had been stripped of his rank for not allowing through those who thought themselves more important than they really were. The Guard had been instructed precisely as to who were to be permitted preference to her Majesty’s presence. Needless to say, none of them were on that list.   No, this was a time for quiet patrolling, keeping guard, and generally making sure to stay out of the way of the various maids and castle workers who were bustling about, looking eternally harried as they got ready for the day’s work. So when Bronze Shield, recently appointed the new Captain of the Solar Guard, saw one of his soldiers galloping through the halls of the palace, he was somewhat miffed. For his duty was no longer patrolling the hallways himself, but making sure that the soldiers in his command did so, and what better way was there to check on them in person? At least for the beginning.   “Halt right there, soldier!” he barked, said guard doing so immediately. A quick glance over the armour showed him the lack of Celestia’s emblem over where the cutie mark of the stallion should be, telling him that it was none of his ponies, but just a regular Royal Guard. It would be so much easier if we had a more distinguishable armour like Princess Luna’s Lunar Guards, Shield thought to himself quickly and focused back on the pegasus in front of him.   “Where are you going off in such a hurry?”   “I n-need to see Princess Celestia right away, sir!” the soldier gasped through his ragged panting. Bronze eyed the soldier closely. He was dripping down with sweat and was generally looking as though he had been running a marathon. Which, given the strict training regimen implemented under the former Captain, Shining Armor, and continued by Bronze Shield, really said something.   “What is it? Changeling attack? Rioters? Cult fanatics? Speak up, son!”   The pegasus did not answer, just reaching into the saddlebag strapped around him and pulling out a newspaper. He passed it to his captain, who snatched it up and began to read. As his eyes passed over line after line, his brows furrowed increasingly deeper until they could be seen through his brown coat, and his face began to turn redder and redder. He snapped the newspaper down, glaring angrily into nothing, his nostrils flaring open every few seconds in agitation.   “Of all the bloody—! You! Take this to Princess Celestia at once! We’ll need further orders on how to handle the backlash this will cause.” He shoved it back to the pegasus and galloped off.   Bronze Shield had a sleazy slimeball of a newspaper owner to speak to.   *** “Your Highness?”   Princess Celestia opened her eyes and blinked a few times to adjust her eyes to the light of her sun that was slowly appearing above the horizon in the east. With a contented nod she ended the magical flow from her horn that managed to raise the celestial body afar, sending it on its way to do its duty for today. It had again been a long and tiring day yesterday. While she had managed to sneak in a snooze, it seemed like she couldn’t take her well-deserved rest just yet. Her head turned around, but she remained seated on the large red cushion on the balcony of her private quarters, high in one of the many towers of Castle Canterlot, and saw one of her guards standing in the room.   She eyed him for a moment and saw that the white pegasus stallion looked nervous. A small smile crept on her face. Not many of her guards entered her private quarters on a regular basis, but this one had done so a few times. Still, he was nervous when doing so. Swift Feather, if she recalled his name correctly. While technically a member of her Solar Guard, he was usually the courier of urgent messages inside the castle and around Canterlot. He had served her well many times – perhaps it was time that he would be assigned with a more… personal task. Celestia’s mind trailed off a bit as it followed that thought, but she quickly caught herself again. “Yes, Swift?” she replied and motioned him to come over to her. She had found such a comfortable spot on the cushion that she had no desire of standing up and turning around to him now.   The stallion did as he was told, and only a few moments later, he stood in front of her, kneeled down, and took off his helmet, revealing his short, dark blue mane. She could see him nervously licking his lips. “Pardon me for interrupting you, my Princess.”   “You were not interrupting me,” Celestia replied calmly. “Rise.” The stallion did as he was told. “I suppose you have reason to come here.”   “Yes, your Highness,” Swift Feather replied hastily and turned his head around to grab the newspaper he carried in his saddlebag. Gently, he placed it on the ground in front of Celestia, who immediately picked it up in her magic and let it hang at her eye level. “This edition was issued earlier this morning. I came here as quickly as I could to bring you a copy.”   Celestia’s face was a mask while reading the paper, showing none of the many emotions that were going on in her head as she skimmed over the lines.   “Shall I inform Princess Luna, your Highness?” Swift Feather asked carefully.   After a few seconds, Princess Celestia put down the newspaper. “That will not be necessary. I will do so myself.” With those words, Celestia rose from her comfortable seat and stood tall in front of the courier. “You have done well, Swift Feather. You are dismissed.”   “Your Highness.” The stallion saluted and quickly marched out of her field of view again. His armoured footsteps on the ground soon disappeared after she heard the opening and closing of her door.   Princess Celestia sighed and looked slightly melancholily down at the cushion. So much for a relaxing morning, she thought to herself as she unfolded her wings and made her way towards the tower of her sister, the newspaper in her magical grip besides her. ***   Princess Luna, Guardian of the Moon, Protector of Dreams, Lady of the Stars, Sovereign of the Shadows and countless other titles, was lying sound asleep, as elegant even whilst in slumber as she was during her time spent awake. Indeed, many artists over the centuries, at least up to her banishment, had laboured to illustrate her as she did so, the mere act of placing her likeness onto a canvas in such an intimate setting as her private chambers being a private thrill to many of them. Indeed, knowing that such paintings would be frowned upon only acted as an extra means of motivation. As such, many paintings had been produced of her sumptuous form, ranging from her merely reclining on her luxurious bed to feeding imported grapes and various other fruits to different stallions and even mares. Despite the wide scope of the artists, one thing they had always made sure to capture was her sensuality, her gracefulness, the slightly haughty bearing of one who was assured and confident of her place in the world.   At least, that was what Luna liked to think. As Celestia closed the door behind her with a soft click, she observed the sight before her with faint amusement. Luna was sprawled out across her bed while lying on her back, her stomach exposed to the world. Her mane, usually so ethereal and sparkling with small stars, hung limply in one big clump at her side. Her hooves occasionally twitched, and her tongue slightly poked out of her open mouth. Every few seconds, she would mutter words unintelligible, things Celestia could not begin to imagine the context of. Despite the new developments that had arisen, Celestia allowed herself to smile at her sister’s unintentional antics.   However, as so many of the simple things in life did, the moment passed all too quickly, and she trotted over to her sister’s bed and nuzzled her gently. “Time to wake up, Luna,” she said gently, shaking her. She knew Luna would not be pleased to be woken up only a couple hours after she had retired to her chambers, but this had to be dealt with, and she wanted Luna’s opinion.   At first, Luna’s hoof tried to swat her away instinctively, but Celestia persisted. Eventually, her sister’s eyes cracked open blearily before they focused on her. And there it was. Before the mask could be adopted, before her defences could be raised, before she could temper her emotions, there it was. The Look. As fleeting as it was, she had seen it enough times since her sister’s return to recognize it. A flash of confusion, recognition, then panic and unease before it disappeared – all of it at the sight of Celestia.   She had to bite back a bitter grimace that threatened to break out on her face. Happy though she was at having her sister back, she knew that it would be a long while for Luna’s scars to be healed. Even if they did, she had accepted that things would never truly be the way they once were.    “Celestia? ‘Tis time for mine moon to rise?” Luna asked as she corrected her posture and stifled a yawn.   “I’m afraid not, sister,” she said, allowing a small amount of regret to enter her voice as she levitated the newspaper in front of her. “It seems somepony has decided to shake the board and upset the pieces.” *** Spike heard the heavy thud by the door as he was just about to put away the last dried dish. He had already made Twilight’s breakfast and cleaned the kitchen. Rainbow Dash had been stopping by a lot recently, and he had been around Twilight long enough to know that she wanted him to have the place as clean as possible, even though she didn’t ask a lot from him these days. Still, Rainbow Dash, being the sort of pony she was, wouldn’t have noticed anything and, depending on her method of entry, probably would have only upset everything else and added to the mess. He shook the growing negative thoughts from his mind and wiped his cloth on the dish towel before heading over to the door. Just as expected, there was a large pile of mail waiting for him to sort through, along with the different magazines, periodicals, journals and newspapers that Twilight had subscribed through. First carrying in the regular mail, he then heaved up the stack of papers and managed to bring them into the kitchen. Sweating slightly, he began to sift through the envelopes and sort them out. As the kettle began to whistle, he made himself a cup of tea before he sat down again to browse through the mail. Slicing through the blue string that held them together with a claw, he began browsing through them. Inevitably, the headlines of a particular edition caused his eyes to widen, and he nearly spewed out his tea dramatically onto the paper. “Twilight isn’t going to like this…”