The Traveling Tutor and the Royal Exam
Fill In The Blank Flank
Moonlight filled the opulent bedchamber to overflowing as Papercut stirred into wakefulness, his familiar bed seeming unusually occupied this evening by a warm blue pegasus who was snuggled up to his chest. The silver moonlight only enhanced the presence of the third occupant of the room standing nearby, an elegant dark alicorn who was looking rather irritated and shaking her head.
“Princess Luna!” Papercut hesitated, unwilling to scramble naked out of bed in the presence of his sovereign while still perplexed by the presence of Crosswind tucked up against his warm side with a wing tucked over his shoulder. It took a moment to made sense of the situation and he blinked in astonishment before nodding in respect.
“Ahem. Princess Luna. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company in my dreams this evening, Your Highness?” A little tuft of Crosswind’s dark blue mane tickled his nose as he tried to sit up but remained trapped by her strong embrace. “Do you think you could…” He gestured at the dream image of Crosswind, who had increased the strength of her grip.
“This is your Dreamscape, young colt. Your surroundings and the events within spring from your own fears and desires. Still, it is not thy dream which drives me this evening, but another.” The surroundings faded away and Papercut found himself suspended apparently in mid-air, surrounded by stars in every direction.
“This way, if you please.” There was a long quiet pause while Papercut huddled in place with his eyes tightly closed. The princess’ voice was gentle in his ears, as if she were right behind him when she continued, “If you fall, we shall catch you.”
Seeing as the alternative was to stay in this place of infinite darkness with the distant stars his only companions, Papercut was left with little choice in the matter. He cracked open one eye and regarded the patient princess standing on a tiny bit of glowing fluff that seemed insufficient to hold a baby hummingbird. After putting out one trembling hoof, he wobbled to his hooves and followed behind the Princess of the Night as she trotted down a glowing path made of wispy lights.
There seemed to be something bothering the princess, from the swishy nature of her entirely distracting tail and the way she flicked her wings, giving him a mixed sensation of nervous anticipation and nervous dread that roiled his stomach. At least it kept him from looking around at the frightening fascinating scenery of this bizarre place, but the distraction abruptly turned his blood to ice as the princess stopped in front of a flat area of perfect darkness and turned to face him.
“What price did thee set upon thy honor to sell it in this fashion?” There was no humor in Luna’s face now, and she towered over him like a thunderstorm ready to strike.
Set back on his heels, Papercut stammered, “I-I took an oath to serve the Crown, Your Highness. I am a loyal servant.”
“Yet you would fain betray thy oath to thy liege and strive to place a dagger into the heart of his upcoming nuptials.”
“Ahhh, that. You see…” He paused and for one long moment considered the dark portal to the side of Luna, and its possible use for the traceless disposal of annoying castle servants. Taking a gamble that honesty might be his best bet for eventually waking up alive, he looked up into those pitiless teal eyes and said, “Lord Green Grass knows that I disapprove of his wedding to Princess Twilight Sparkle, and certainly so does Princess Celestia.”
“Why?” She cocked her head to one side and watched him as if he were some interesting insect that needed to be properly observed and cataloged before being stuck to a display with a long steel pin through the chest.
“Princess Twilight needs to wed somepony worthy of her station, not some earth pony schoolteacher.” The words just cascaded out and vanished, but the look of anger on Luna’s face did not.
“And pray tell, what deficiency do you see in Princess Twilight’s judgement?”
Papercut spluttered despite his growing fear. “He’s an earth pony. She’s an alicorn.”
“Perchance thou hast a male alicorn tucked away in one of the royal houses?” Luna leaned uncomfortably close until Papercut could feel her warm breath across his face. “Is he handsome? Does he truly appreciate my beautiful night?”
“No!” he squeaked. “She needs a unicorn stallion of proper breeding.”
Luna fluttered her eyebrows and swept one wing up to stroke across the side of his face and neck. “Not a pegasus prince of the Hurricane bloodline? You of all ponies seem to appreciate the sensual attraction of soft wings.”
“Crosswind isn’t… I mean Princess Twilight…” He stopped and tried to gather his wits, which was not helped at all when Luna began to circle around him, keeping one soft wing brushing across his back and near his tail in short, sensual strokes.
“What matter is it to thee if a mare decides to take a lover suitable to her fancy? In days of old, it was considered immoral to mate with one not of thine own tribe, but now in this modern age, it is accepted as perfectly normal. As a Princess of Equestria, we might take a lover from any of the three tribes. Would thee oppose my choice were I to decide on, let us say for example’s sake, a unicorn lover from a lower family? Perhaps one not even a Royal?”
The strangled noises that Papercut made could not possibly have been interpreted into words.
“Let us suppose,” continued Luna with an additional brush of wing up the back of his neck, “this hypothetical mate I desired was a thoughtful and considerate stallion, with an endurance able to keep up with the limitless passions of an alicorn. One young and trainable in the art of love, who has the discretion to keep his dalliance with the Princess of the Night private, and not speak of them to even his own family. Would you dare raise your voice in objection to one such as he?”
A faint whine escaped from Papercut as Luna toyed with one ear, gently running a primary feather over and inside it.
A feather of deepest indigo.
Just like the secondary feather that had been stuck in Graphite’s mane.
Green Grass’ unicorn brother.
Relief coursed through Papercut’s body in an explosive breath out, although he clamped his mouth closed before he could blurt out something horribly embarrassing. Princess Celestia had always been so discreet and polite even in her private study during the rare nights when he would take a position to the side of her writing desk and go over the more complicated schedule revisions, more like a mother and her child than ruler and ruled. The concept of ‘lust’ and ‘princess’ had been so far apart in his mind that the lewd comments exchanged by the servants during Princess Mi Amore Cadenza’s wedding had shocked him to the core, even to the point of confessing his outrage to Princess Celestia afterwards.
In a very polite and discreet way, of course.
Celestia had taken his bristling sanctimony with a great deal of humor. Deciding it would be in his best interests to ‘loosen him up’ a little, she had brought Luna into the study and requested him to judge a contest between them.
A dirty joke telling contest.
Which Celestia had narrowly won.
It had been several of the most embarrassing and educational hours of his existence. He still could not watch a duck waddle across the sidewalk without blushing. Now, looking at the sly smile on the Princess of the Night’s face, he was all too aware there was a female pony behind the mental image he had crafted for each of the princesses. A female who breathed, felt, yearned, and on occasion and despite all of his preconceived notions, lusted beyond mortal measure.
Still, Green Grass? Twilight can’t really be serious about him. But they are going to have a foal in a few months. Maybe…
Taking a few breaths to calm himself down, Papercut adjusted his dress jacket while trying to ignore just how it followed him into the Dreamscape when he had been naked in bed, then turned to Princess Luna.
“I am prepared to accept the possibility that Green Grass has sufficient positive character traits that he may, in some strange way, be a marginally acceptable mate for Her Highness, Princess Twilight Sparkle. I still believe both she and the Crown can do much better, though.”
“Such as Blueblood?” The enigmatic smile on her face grew slightly as Papercut twitched. “The same pony who had you beaten by a thug?”
“I…” Papercut paused before deciding again that honesty seemed to be the best way through this. “Once I expressed my honest difficulties in procuring a different spouse for Princess Twilight Sparkle, I believe the employed gentlecolt in question decided against physical motivation. Unfortunately, I called him a rather derogatory expletive at that point, and I believe his natural nature took over.”
“Ah. We shall have to see you rectify that unseemly outburst.” Princess Luna looked suspiciously smug, almost exactly the same way Celestia would look before springing a surprise, and his suspicions only grew when she turned to the featureless black portal floating in the Dreamscape and nodded, making the darkness brighten and the interior of a train sleeper car fade into view. He followed behind Luna just as if he were a dog trained to heel while she walked into the revealed train car and opened the door, gesturing him inside before following.
Sitting rather uncomfortably on one sleeper bed was the familiar dull-orange earth pony who glanced up once with nervous green eyes before returning to staring at the floor as he had been. Sitting beside him in a nearly identical position was another bulky earth pony with a short, curly blonde mane and a somewhat lighter orange coat, who did not look up, but continued to examine his hooves as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Good evening Assault. Battery,” said Princess Luna
“Good evening, Princess,” they chorused back with little enthusiasm.
“I would like you to meet Mister Papercut, Lord Green Grass’ personal appointment secretary. He has something he would like to say to you.”
Denial surged up in Papercut’s mind while looking at the two thuggish earth ponies. Even though this was just a dream, he still had his pride. And a Princess looking over his shoulder. And an earth pony for an ‘owner.’ To apologize for getting beaten would be the cherry on the top of a humiliation sundae. Still, he was a faithful servant of the Crown, and duty called for him to respond in the fashion to which he was expected. He lifted his chin, straightened his spine, and repeated the words that he had thought would never say.
“I’m sorry for calling you stupid earth ponies.”
There, I’ve said it. Now we can leave and maybe I can get some real sleep.
“Yeah,” muttered the first thug. “We’s sorry too. It’s a one ting to beats up some mook because you gots paid, but just because ya gots mouthy with me don’t mean I gotta hammer youse face into the wall. I means da boss would get real upsets wit me fer hammerin’ ya dat way, but youse bein’ a unicorn and all, I gots a little over entheusaticated.”
“Unicorn?” asked Papercut quizzically.
“Yeah, you unicorns an yer sneaky magics are cheatin’ bastards, and youse being some high muckety-mucks prime pigeon, I tot fer sure you’se gonna turn me inta a turtle or sumptin’ if’n I lets you have a second to thinks.“
“Oh.” Papercut sat stunned for a moment. “That’s a surprisingly cognisant chain of logic.”
The somewhat lighter earth pony thug nudged the first one and said in a squeaky voice, “He says you’se smarter than you looks.”
“Ugh.” The first earth pony scowled and looked towards the back of the train car. “Sure.”
“No, I mean it,” continued Papercut. “If I had been one of Celestia’s trained operatives, letting me have a fraction of a second to start casting spells would have been a fatal mistake. And the way you checked the bathroom for other patrons before you started your intimidation showed good planning skills, and of course, keeping a lookout just outside the door was a necessity. Two ponies on the operation, both relatives so you don’t have to worry about operational security, and no loose ends. Very professional.”
“Yeah, but we still gots nabbed by the Princess.” Both earth ponies raised their eyes just enough to see Princess Luna’s silver shoes. “We gots settled down fer a snooze on the ways home, and bam!”
Papercut snorted. “Better here than back at the castle. I would imagine there are quite a few upset ponies in the guard buzzing around back in Canterlot who might take out their frustrations in a form of physical release. After all, you did attack the assistant to a Princess during a diplomatic function in the castle, and got away clean. On the positive side, evidence arcanum is not admissible in the court of law, so just because Princess Luna caught you, doesn’t mean she gets to keep you.”
The rising of optimism in the earth pony thugs was matched by the rising in ire of Princess Luna, and Papercut quickly continued, “Of course, just because this dream isn’t admissible as evidence, doesn’t mean you’re going to get away. Even if Princess Luna decides to let you go, I’ve got your names, a very good look at you, and your cutie marks memorized now. Once I wake up, the additional information that I remembered since my attack will be winging its way to Manehattan within the hour, and might even beat the train there.”
He cocked an eyebrow at Princess Luna with a twitch at the corner of his cheek, and she took the cue perfectly. “Calm thyself, young Papercut. We shall discuss things with these miscreants, and see if we may find a more useful purpose to set them against rather than prison. But now that your purpose here is fulfilled, it is time for you to depart from the Dreamscape.”
A faint tapping could be heard in the distance as the scenery began to fade, and for some reason, Papercut thought that Luna’s enigmatic smile was the last thing to fade away before he could see the fuzzy light of dawn pouring through his balcony windows and casting into silhouette the one form he least wanted to see.
~ ~ ♥ ~ ~
It would have been a peculiar sight for any early-rising unicorn in the neighborhood this morning to see a ‘Royal Coach and Four’ around the Buttercream Mansion Apartments, let alone one being pulled by four Royal Guards, and even more strange, backed up to a balcony of the mansion while the drivers hovered in the traces. It was an impressive display of stamina and masculine wingpower, which would have made the occasional gawking observer even more impressed if they had known the five-hour flight still ahead of the drivers just as soon as the last reluctant passengers had been loaded.
Green Grass tapped on the balcony door yet again, squinting against the morning glare to peek in the silvered glass in the hopes that the Night Guard who had flown home a few minutes ago had perhaps been mistaken about Crosswind remaining in Papercut’s apartment all last night. At least when Green Grass was around, they hated his round earth pony head enough to keep from nipping at each other. If they had both been together all night without somepony to distract their natural spiteful tendencies, it had probably ended in violence. With his rotten luck, one of them might have even killed the other, although there had not been any red stains on the concrete below the window this morning.
A faint rattling clunk disturbed his musing, and a considerably mussed Papercut opened the balcony door.
Well, she didn’t kill him. Oh, wait…
“Where’s Crosswind?” The slightly accusing words just spilled out of Green Grass before he could stop them, despite the nearby hovering coach containing his wife-to-be, Spike, four Royal Guards, and Fancy Pants.
Three hastily scheduled days of ‘rest’ triggered by the incident after the press conference had been hammered into their schedules by Royal Command, and with the assistance of some small number of Substitute Princess Appearances from both Celestia and Luna. The original impromptu plan had been to pick up his recovering servant and Crosswind before being flown cross-country throughout the morning for lunch at Fancy Pants’ private ski chalet in the Pericorn mountain range, conveniently close to both the Crystal Empire and the Misty Mountain Aerie. This would mix business with pleasure by allowing an official visit to the Misty Mountain griffon aerie to request permission from their new Wingmaster to have Sunny as flowerfilly (or flowergriffon) for their rapidly-approaching wedding, as well as a long-delayed trip to the Crystal Empire to officially request Shining Armor’s presence as one of the groomstallions (instead of simply sending him a note on the day of the wedding, as Twilight wanted.)
The third day had been blocked out specifically by Green Grass as ‘nothing at all and that includes visitors’ which he had been absolutely adamant in getting scheduled and knew beyond a doubt was never going to happen. The bad part was that Twilight actually giggled every time she looked at that blank section of the calendar, and had threatened to write ‘Here Be Dragoens’ across it in big letters.
Even Spike thought it was funny.
In any event, they were a half-hour late getting out of Canterlot, which meant Twilight was about three minutes from a full-fledged alicorn-level ‘I can fix this’ moment that would probably involve teleportation, alternate dimensions, and a great deal of falling from a ridiculous height, but all of that suddenly took a back seat when Papercut replied.
“She’s still sleeping in my bed.”
There was an infinite moment of silence between the last word and the realization that swept across Papercut’s normally impassive features, causing a bright alertness that could never be created with mere mortal coffee, as well as a scrambled speech center in his brain. Green Grass actually bit his own tongue to keep from responding, and the pain was well worth it as the stiff unicorn stammered on. “I mean she fell asleep in my bed last night. Without me. I was in the bathroom, washing the preening oil off my... Toothbrushing! We didn’t… We weren’t preening! Really! Well, she did drink my medication. And some wine. And she was preening afterwards, but—”
“Stop,” gasped Green Grass. “Stop while you still can.” After a few quick breaths to calm down, he continued. “Twilight and I have scheduled three days vacation in the Pericorn mountain range. You can come along if you’re feeling up to…”
Papercut’s upper lip curled as he regarded his employer’s attempts to quit snickering. After a glance at the waiting coach and the puzzled purple princess just out of earshot, a sense of duty seemed to rise up in his eyes to overcome his aching bruises, allowing him to straighten up and give a formal nod to his employer/owner. “I shall retrieve my jacket and be prepared to depart momentarily. Shall I be needing the leash?”
“Depends,” chortled Green Grass, trying to keep his voice down. “Twilight would like to bring Crosswind along. And I am not touching that line. Please pass along our invitation to your… houseguest, and we shall await you in the coach. Oh.” One green hoof swept across Green Grass’ jacket almost effortlessly and produced a small orange motion-sickness pill, which he held out to his servant. “The mountain updrafts can get nasty.”
Apparently adding this latest indignity to his list of ‘Why I Hate Green Grass,’ Papercut fumbled the pill into his own hoof and swallowed it dry before heading back to his bedroom and his unwelcome guest.
* ♥ *
At least I can imagine I’m throwing her off the balcony, even if there is a large Royal Guard coach there to catch her.
“Good morning, young miss,” said Papercut as he swept into his bedroom, still feeling suspiciously like he should be knocking first but determined not to give Crosswind any more verbal sparring points. “Change of schedule. Our employers apparently have decided on a bit of mountain air for the next three days, so if you would be so kind as to vacate my bed without rubbing your rump on my satin sheets. Again.”
“On this short notice?” Crosswind fairly exploded out of the bed and dove into his closet head-first. “The mountains? I don’t have a thing to wear! Can I borrow a scarf? Or a toothbrush? Do you think they can swing by my apartment?”
Papercut tutted under his breath as he tried to ignore his aching muscles and the rumpled pile of sheets on his bed that were going to need laundered upon his return, possibly even dry cleaned. Instead, he stuffed bathroom toiletries into a sidesaddle bag and attempted to be as much of a gentlecolt as possible. “I shall give you one of my spare toothbrushes, still in the package, if you will please grab a few scarves out of the closet. Her Highness looked quite impatient, so I’m presuming we are already behind schedule.” The sound of rapidly retreating hoofsteps was his only reply, so Papercut heaved the bag over his back and shrugged painfully into his jacket, meeting Crosswind as he trotted over to the balcony doors.
“I got your prescription,” she said, stuffing a few packages and the scarves into her own bag. “And I raided your pantry for some snacks. Ready?”
“Thank you, Miss Crosswind. I had forgotten about my medication.” He stepped over to the balcony door and opened it up for her, allowing the pegasus to trot through before setting the latch and following.
Unfortunately, having a Royal Guard coach and royal passengers hovering outside his window had attracted attention of the very worst sort. His next door neighbor, Miss Waxwood, was standing out on her own balcony, smirking at Crosswind as if the old biddy could hardly wait to report on his amorous indiscretion to the apartment building manager, an elderly unicorn with far too little to do.
Papercut looked at the parakeet perched on Miss Waxwood’s horn and raised an eyebrow, indicating his willingness to escalate this conflict into a full-blown social war, and if he were to be evicted over his unwilling actions, she and her unauthorized pet would be right behind him.
Her primary weapon rendered moot, Miss Waxwood returned the assault with an arrogant huff and a raised nose indicative of a retrenching of her defensive position, and a great deal of upcoming gossip featuring her next-door neighbor and his winged ‘lover.’
Ignoring the old crone for a moment, Papercut helped a yawning Crosswind into the royal chariot, giving her a faux kiss on the top of the mane as she stumbled inside, and then returning Miss Waxwood’s glare with a cheery smile and an exaggerated wink to indicate that he had been turning a blind eye to the young unicorn ‘delivery pony’ who had been making regular visits to her apartment, but might consider bringing his frequent visits to the attention of the landlord in the event rumors of Papercut’s own private life became too public.
Miss Waxwood stormed back into her apartment.
Papercut turned back to the rest of the ponies in the chariot with a knowing smile, which trickled slowly away in their mutual look of bemused crogglement.
“An amazing display of position-based contextual communication, wouldn't you say so, dear?” said Green Grass, one eyebrow crooked up in an indication that his position in a unicorn family had included training in their traditional and somewhat eclectic sign language.
“He’s got a little bit of a Manehattan accent,” said Twilight with a mixed frown and raised eyebrow that signaled ‘Very cute, dear, but we need to talk later.’
“What in Hades was that?” asked Crosswind, blinking away the last of the morning crusts on her eyes.
“Unicorn position-based contextual communication, or Gesture,” said Twilight. “There are a number of variants among the Royals, because talking in Court or using spells to communicate is considered impolite. It has parallels with pegasus wing displays, only Gesture is normally not used for mating rituals or—”
“Not that winky, eyebrow-wiggling thing. That!” Crosswind pointed to the top of her mane while glaring at Papercut.
“It appears to be a tangle of some sort, possibly a knot,” said Papercut, putting his head down and digging into his sidesaddle with clumsy teeth. “I suppose you can borrow my manecomb, if you promise not to get any ‘lip gloss’ on it.”
But when he finally managed to get the comb out, Crosswind was far ahead of the chariot, flapping so vigorously that her tail lashed back and forth. The chariot drivers took that as a signal to leave, sliding the heavy carriage sideways away from the building in a perfectly smooth maneuver before turning north and ascending up to altitude behind the aggravated pegasus.
Papercut tried to ignore the other three passengers and enjoy the flight, a much smoother glide through higher air due to their long-distance destination, but all three continued to watch him as if they expected him to say something. Eventually the silence got under his bruised hide, and he looked at Green Grass with a frown. “Woof. Bark. Yip.”
“So she broke you to the dog collar that quick, eh?” quipped Green Grass.
“No! She merely visited last night to help me with household chores since that ruffian messed up my horn.” Papercut reached up and touched the medical suppressor ring to make sure it had not slipped off during the night.
“I see. And did you request her presence?”
“Ah…” Papercut paused at the looks he was getting and scowled. “No, I did not invite her up to my apartment. She volunteered.”
“Did you thank her?” asked Princess Sparkle. “I mean it would only be polite for a friend to help when you’re ill, and the least you can do is to thank her in return.”
“I… Er…” Papercut looked up at the naked pegasus with the tangled mane still flying a good distance in front of the coach. She had dumped her bag in the middle of the coach floor before taking off, and he took a moment to scoot it under one of the seats so it would not be trampled during the trip. He vaguely remembered thanking her for remembering his pills, but that had been more of a social reflex than from any real appreciation.
After a few moments of relative silence with only the wind blowing across the coach, Fancy Pants cleared his throat. “If your situations were reversed, would you have gone to Miss Crosswind’s home to assist her in any tasks with which she would have difficulty?”
“Of course… not,” he finished weakly. “I would employ a professional nurse for the job. Pressing myself upon her private residence would be a horrible imposition. Besides, we are only business associates, not close friends.”
“I see,” said Fancy Pants, brushing his moustache back a bit where the wind was blowing it sideways. “So it would only be appropriate to visit the residence of a good friend, or one who you thought was a friend of yours.” He paused, looking up at the flying pegasus mare still keeping ahead of the chariot with long, strong strokes of her wings. “Tell me, young colt, how much do you know of Pegasus Gesture?”
“Only enough to know that it seems to involve wings entirely too much.” Papercut swallowed and took the airsickness bag that Green Grass hoofed over to him. “This is not a subject I wish to discuss while we are in the air.”
“Nonetheless, it is a subject with which you apparently are in urgent need of education. I shall endeavor to be brief, as we are in mixed company. In short, pegasi are somewhat more and less direct about their amorous approaches than unicorns. More, as in they are considerably more aggressive in their touching of other ponies even if they only view them as friends, and less, as in they tend to a specific form of gentle touching for those who they wish to become somewhat more than friends. This can include ‘displaying’ around their potential mates by spreading their wings in private, kissing them on the top of the head, or even acts of mock violence.”
Twilight Sparkle abruptly spoke up. “I knew one Nocturne mare who displayed her desire for a mate by bucking him in the head. Repeatedly. I thought it was really weird too, but they’re married now and expecting their first foal. And Rainbow Dash has been ‘displaying’ for years, but I think she’s just trying to find somepony who can outfly her.”
“That’s… frightening,” said Papercut. “Wait a minute. Are you saying that she—” he pointed up in the sky where Crosswind was maintaining her speed in front of the coach “—likes me?”
Fancy Pants nodded. “She may not even be consciously aware of it now, but she’s flying just ahead and above a desired male in order to display her attributes to their fullest effect. If she were to be any more direct, she’d have to fling herself down on your bed and offer to be preened. What did you expect?”
“A letter!” huffed Papercut. “A card even. Maybe even a bit of poetry. Flowers, perhaps?”
Looking out the window with his back turned to Green Grass, he spent the rest of the trip in sullen silence, listening to Fancy Pants and Twilight Sparkle discuss a potential ski development in the Pericorn mountain range now that the Crystal Empire had emerged and the nearby Griffon aerie had undergone a relatively pony-friendly change of Wingmasters. He intentionally avoided looking up at Crosswind, and fought back a twinge of jealousy every time one of their pegasus drivers glanced in an upward direction.
It was a long, long flight.