Fleethoof stopped abruptly at the edge of the counter, and set down the tray of muffins she was carrying before swiping a pair of bright pink cupcakes from beneath the counter, along with a dark red one that she hoofed over to Bruin before she lifted the talons of both of the other Griffons, and placed the two pink pastries in their talons, “Here you go! Have a welcome cupcake, on me.” She looked at the two for a long minute, then leaned in close.
Gilda stared back as the pony came dangerously close to touching her, beak-to-muzzle, “Gilda? Izzat you?”
For a moment, the Griffon was stunned, then her memory caught up, “Fleethoof? What are you doing here? I thought you went back to Cloudsdale after the Exchange.”
“I did, but then I came here because it was what my Cutie Mark told me to do! Oh you’re going to love it here! Some of our old friends from camp are here too! Remember Rainbow Dash?”
Gilda smiled menacingly, “Rainbow Crash is here too? What’s her job? Can we mess it up? Pranks?”
Fleethoof waved a wing at the ground dismissively, “Nah. She’s on the Weather team. Still a slacker. She wouldn’t be any fun to prank. But Thunderlane…He’s grown up.”
Gilda had to restrain a squeal of delight, “Thundie’s here? Oh this is gonna be great. Wait, does he know I’m here yet?”
Ferrous shuddered at the tone of his sister’s voice. He remembered the stallion. In fact, it was Thunderlane he had swapped with for the Exchange program. They had been friends, through the mail, until Thunderlane had discovered that Gilda was his little sister. He couldn’t imagine the kind of torment the stallion had suffered at her claws that he would break all contact over it.
Now, he was starting to get a little twitchy. He turned his head and glanced out the window. Thunderlane knew what he looked like, because they had exchanged pictures as recently as two years ago. And he knew that the grey Pegasus with the tight square mane-cut and Weather Service vest trotting in the door was his old friend. He turned around completely and clapped a talon over the stallion’s muzzle, dragging him out into the street. As soon as they were outside, he lifted Thunderlane’s face so they were eye-to-eye, “Thunderlane, it’s Ferrous. Remember me?”
The stallion nodded, and Ferrous let go of his face, “What was that about?”
“Gilda’s here, with me, for the duration of my apprenticeship with Master Bruin.”
He hadn’t known that it was possible for the grey stallion to go any more pale, but he succeeded in getting at least four shades light, “Fuck. Hide me?”
“For three years? Not likely.”
“She’s gonna kill me! Or Kiss me! Or…Or…”
“Oh, Ferrous, you found Thundie…Thanks big brother.”
“…Fuck me.”
Ferrous grabbed his sister before she could say the response he KNEW was trying to worm out of her beak, “No. Gilda, leave him alone."
Fleethoof smiled wickedly, "He’s happily engaged already.”
Both Thunderlane and Ferrous stared at her for a seemingly interminable moment before she grabbed his wing and slipped something around the root, pulling his head close to hers, “It’s a fake ring. Play along.”
Ferrous let go of Gilda’s beak, “Now apologize for trying to accost him.”
“I’m sorry, Thundie. I didn’t know you were already…” she noticed the matching rings both Pegasi wore, “Really? Of all the ponies we went to camp with, you picked the one that buttered you up and strung you up on the flagpole by your danglies?”
Fleethoof snorted, “As I recall, you were the one that did the buttering. I just melted it for you.”
Ferrous backed away from them, “Yeah, I think I’ll go, uh, be somewhere else. See you at home later, Gilda.”
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Ferrous slipped into the Smithy quietly. Or at least, he tried. His beak was closed gently around hit gloves so the hard surfaces didn’t clack together when he breathed, and he was creeping along on his knuckles so his talons didn’t click against the floor, dirt as it was. His wings were tensed to his sides so they wouldn’t brush against anything. And his mind was fully focused on being absolutely inaudible to the mare he knew was waiting to tackle him. If he could get the jump on her, for once, he would have bragging rights for at least a week, and she would owe him money. He smiled around his gloves at the idea, then spat them to the floor as a pair of cold brass talons grabbed his shoulders and a grey muzzle rubbed into his head-feathers.
He lunged to the floor, but it was too late, she was already getting comfortable on his back, pulling his leather-clad wings across her body like stiff blankets, “You’re so warm Ferrous. What took you so long?”
He reached into his saddlebag and grabbed a pair of bits that he passed up to the Thestral on his back, the payment for getting caught again, and sighed, “Gilda has a bit of a history with some of the ponies here. We got tied up. Master Bruin’s still over at Sugarcube Corner with them, either trying to break them up…”
“…Or laughing his feathered ass off. Probably the latter. Which ponies?”
“Uh…Thunderlane, remember the colt that I swapped with that summer? And Rainbow Dash, and that white Pegasus at Sugarcube Corner. I think it was Fleethoof?”
He felt the weight on his back disappear, and turned to see that his load had fallen to the floor, and was curled up in silent peals of laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
“Thunderlane’s face right about now. He told me he was terrified of Gilda. Said he’d rather marry Fleethoof than deal with the risk of another ‘date’ with your sister!”
“Well, she did say that the two of them were engaged. So, I guess he got his wish.”
The Thestral froze, mid laugh, then pulled her saddlebag off the wall and dug her talon into it, pulling out a sack of bits. Judging the weight briefly, she dropped it in a bin marked ‘Bruin, Master Smith’, Dammit. There goes my gambling money for the month. I SWORE he was going to pop the question in front of all of town at the next town hall.
Ferrous looked at her, “So they went behind everypony’s backs and did it in quiet?”
She rolled her eye at him, “Fleethoof is nothing, if not dramatic. If he popped the question, the ‘Yes’ would have echoed across the town. And she never would have had the nerve to ask. They must have snuck out of town last…night…But Thunderlane had the Night shift. He couldn’t have done it then.”
“So, then which one popped the question? I just saw her slipping his ring onto his wing. Smart colt, leaving it where it won’t get los…” once more, Hammer Soot was rolling on the floor, barely restraining her laughter, “What?”
“I can’t believe…” a cough, a couple of gasps for air, “…she actually…” more gasps and a wheezing noise, “…Oh Fuck. What color were the rings?” She lunged up and grabbed the Griffon’s collar.
“Uh, gold. But they had kind of a silvery sheen after she slid the ring onto his wing-root.”
Hammer shook her head, “I never thought she’d actually go through with that. But, since the question hasn’t been popped, I get to keep some of my bits.”
“Only some?”
“Yeah. The rest go to Rainbow Dash. She bet that those Zebrican mating rings would be the perfect way to get them together. I told her Fleethoof would never do that. I was wrong,” she grabbed a crowbar and a hammer off the wall before trotting out, “You coming?”
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Thunderlane was looking increasingly red as Gilda tried to slug him. She was NOT happy about the idea of him being claimed. Admittedly, neither was he, but all he could do right then was lay on the ground and try to think about what her fist would feel like when it actually managed to get through the magical field surrounding him and Fleethoof. Who notably wasn’t helping the issue by sitting between his wings making lewd gestures at Gilda. And he swore there hadn’t been anything liquid on his back before she sat down.
“Fleethoof, what did you do?”
“I gave you a ring, silly.”
“If I take the ring off, does everything go back to normal?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“How do I get the damn thing off then?” His wing was starting to hurt from tugging on the ring with his other wingtip.
A thoughtful pause, that had Fleethoof grinding her hips against his spine, and he was sure he was going to get an answer, only to be interrupted by a Thestral he recognized arriving with a crowbar and a hammer, “Gilda, chill out.”
Gilda stared at the Thestral, not ceasing her attempted hits, “Hammer? What are you doing here?”
“I work at the Smithy. I know what’s going on. And I have a crowbar.”
Fleethoof looked at the crowbar, then the hammer, “Won’t work silly. The rings will only come off if we get off.”
Hammer walked up and reached through the shield, gently caressing Fleethoof’s muzzle with the hammer, “I seriously doubt that,” the hammer twisted and collided with the ring on Fleethoof’s side with a sickening crack.
Gilda’s fist was stopped a claw-length from Thunderlane’s muzzle by her brother grabbing her arm as the field collapsed. Another sickening crack and the rings turned golden in color again. Thunderlane was airborne a moment later, streaking into the clouds, where the golden ring would fall from several minutes after everypony had left.
Hammer set down the tools she had brought, and pried the dented ring off Fleethoof’s now broken wing, “Go get that fixed. I’ll fix these.” Fleethoof cradled her wing and trotted away slowly, so she didn’t make it any worse.
“So, why did you do that, and why did it work?”
Hammer sat on her haunches and pushed the ring into thespace between her and Gilda, “This is one half of a pair of Zebrican Mating Rings. They are used in the tribes when the population is low to ensure a pregnancy. They are very powerful, and can normally only be removed by actually mating.”
“But hitting it with your hammer worked?”
Hammer Soot picked up the heavy headed tool and twirled it in front of her in a way no pony with hooves could ever even dream of, “Cursebreaker is Master Bruin’s. He got it for graduating to the rank of Blacksmith.”
“Really? So is that why Ferrous lugs that massive thing around everywhere he goes?”
“Yeah. Although,” she turned to her friend, “you shouldn’t really carry it around town normally. Ponies get spooked when they see a hammer the size of a foal.
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The ring was carefully deposited in the mailbox of the tree-home wrapped in a note, explaining what it was, and where the other one would be. Hammer Soot dragged Gilda and Ferrous away before they could ask why a tree had a mailbox, or a home in it.
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Fleethoof scowled. It had been her own behavior that had led to her temporary grounding. Not even metaphorical grounding either. The Cakes would have been fine with sending her to her room to think about what she had done wrong. Hammer Soot was not nearly as willing to pass off the use of dangerous magical items as a prank, and had instead gone and pulled out her own magical artifact stock for Fleethoof’s punishment. She had secured a pair of Grounding Studs to Fleet’s wing-roots. The artifact had quite literally, taken her wings away. She could feel them moving around in whatever space they were in, but she couldn't use them, or see them.
She would get her revenge later. Oh how sweet her revenge would be.