The Traveling Tutor and the Royal Exam
Baths, Beds and Beyond
Time: 9:00 P.M. 47 Hours until Zero Hour
Schedule: Private Meeting - Green Grass (Substitute)
Location: Solar Wing of Canterlot Castle
State of Alicorn Anxiety: Pale Orange
As any responsible architect would be glad to explain, the castle in Canterlot was a classic example of a large structure in a constant state of flux as various dining halls, ballrooms, solariums, music recital rooms, specialized libraries, tea rooms, processionals, meeting rooms, diplomatic quarters, guard posts, armories, guest rooms, rest rooms and statuary display rooms were remodeled and upgraded. From the time the first block was laid until the present, there had never been a time when at least some corner of the castle was not festooned in orange cones with ‘Do Not Enter - Under Construction’ signs, including the oddly-named Do Not Enter room, which owed its name to Princess Celestia’s odd sense of humor. Currently the work on the Carmine Pink Room was nearing completion, with the construction having moved on to the Antares section of guest suites, the Nebula Lounge, and meeting rooms 2031-2037⁽*⁾, which maintained the tradition of not being passed to Princess Celestia for naming suggestions after the Oh Heavens Why Do We Have So Many meeting room had been named several centuries ago. Since Princess Luna’s return, there had been one test request for a room naming passed to her, but after several researchers in ancient mystic runes were unable to make sense of the resulting name suggestion⁽¹⁾, it was decided to make the room into a rather short and wide hallway that led nowhere instead.
In other words, construction made sections of the castle into an endless mess.
(*) Second Wing, Ground Floor. Odd numbered rooms were larger than even numbered rooms, prime numbered rooms included a wet bar, Mersenne primes included extradimensional space extenders and cushioned seats. In theory, there was a meeting room number 2047, but as the entire room had been filled by one of Princess Celestia’s experiments in octahedral packing several centuries ago, the room number plate had simply been replaced by a ‘Reserved by Her Highness’ sign.
(1) Several of the staff still refer to that particular hallway as ‘The Room Formerly Known as ℘.’
—
As Papercut picked his way around the dusty sawhorses with the ‘Do Not Enter’ signs, he kept the wrinkled note suspended in his magic ahead of him in order to banish the shadows that seemed to creep around and peek out at inopportune moments. Green Grass’ note had detailed his exact destination in the presently suspended project, as the construction ponies had been redirected to more important wedding-related tasks and a simple sign was sufficient to keep curious hooves out of the dusty scaffolding and loose boards of the remodeling project. His own hooves left dark prints in the dust as he shuffled forward, terrified that at any moment some law enforcement pony would lunge out of the darkness and accuse him of some nefarious bribery plot to poison the entire Griffon Empire.
This stinks of setup something fierce. Only two more days. I can survive two days.
Tapping gently on the doorframe of the correct suite under construction, Papercut peeked inside the dark room with a quiet cough. “Hello? Lord Green Grass was unavoidably detained. I brought the… package.”
“He was supposed to be here,” hissed a voice from the darkness. “I told him I wasn’t going to deal with anypony but him.”
“Somegriffon tried to poison the Griffon Emperor and all of his guests,” said Papercut bluntly. “It seems to have been a horrible inconvenience for all parties involved. Lord Green Grass is currently by Princess Luna’s side, observing the investigation into the assassination attempt.”
“Poison?” There was a flicker of light in the dark room as an elderly unicorn lit his horn with a familiar changeling detection spell and peered at Papercut from under his white thready mane in the wan illumination. The pony had a snug suit jacket with an ink-stained patch that seemed to advertise his position as one of the civil service ponies that filled the castle in great variety, but his advanced age seemed somewhat off to Papercut. In all positions except for one, the overwhelming pressure from below to move out of the way as an employee reached their seventh or eighth decade was difficult to resist, particularly with the tendency that Princess Celestia had to simply drop in on the spur of the moment and ask about an employee’s retirement plans and if they would be open to doing just one little favor for her during retirement, such as mentoring a filly scout troop, or helping out with a shelter for unwed mothers.
The elderly unicorn’s nose wrinkled up as an errant breeze blew the scent of vomit and fish over to him, and he recoiled nearly into the adjoining room with a startled cough. “Per carità! What filth have you been rolling in?”
“Fish,” replied Papercut in a flat deadpan. “It seems to be a new trend. Now, let me get your bits for whatever Lord Green Grass has arranged.” He turned his head to float out the surprisingly small bag of bits out of his sidesaddle, but when Papercut turned back to the elderly unicorn, he was gone, leaving only the fading sound of hoofsteps wending their way through the construction in the distance.
Fighting back a sigh, Papercut stuffed the clinking bag back into his sticky sidesaddle and worked his own way back out through the construction debris to where he had parked his unwanted guard. The violet-armored stallion was not where he had been left, but there was a familiar sky-blue pegasus mare with a disheveled mane splattered in disgusting fish residue waiting in his place.
Papercut considered it a favorable exchange.
“Pinhead, what do you think you were doing?” hissed Crosswind before he could get a word out. “The guard said you ordered him to stay here.”
“I was carrying out the task which my owner set me upon,” said Papercut with mixed relief and indignation.
“A bribe?” hissed Crosswind with several glances up and down the empty corridor. “The Emperor of Griffons was just poisoned, and you’re slinking off to deliver a payoff? It could have been a setup to get Green Grass killed too, and you just walked right into it!”
“I didn’t say it was a good idea,” grumbled Papercut, “just that Greenie needed it done.”
“So.” Crosswind fidgeted, looking up and down the empty castle corridor again. “Did you?”
“Almost. The old geezer got away, and I didn’t think it was a good idea to run through a construction zone screaming, ‘Take your bribe, you little creep!’” Papercut tried to sigh, but sneezed instead as the construction dust got into his tortured nose. “All I want to do is go home and drown myself in my bathtub.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the tremor that was traveling up Crosswind’s shapely flanks and hovering just around her cutie mark. She looked drawn, splattered with bits of semi-digested fish and vomit, but somehow more beautiful than any mare he had seen in his lifetime.
Say something compassionate! Say something reassuring! Say something!
“You did good work this evening,” he blurted out. “You were very brav— Urk!” The crushing hug that was unleashed on him included both vomit-stained wings wrapping around his back and a chunk of disgusting knotted mane shoved right under his nose as Crosswind held him with frantic urgency. She trembled against his chest, seeming fragile as candyfloss even as his ribs creaked with the power of her grip.
“I was so afraid!” she blurted out, gingerly placing the side of her head against his neck in a way that only reminded Papercut of his own revolting stench. “All I could think of was my training, and you were so calm while I was screaming inside.”
“Ahh… Actually, Miss Crosswind, the only reason I did not panic was your example,” he added after due consideration and a faint wince over the pain of some small object in his vest pocket pressing against his chest. “Will… you be all right returning to your apartment alone this evening?”
“Yes,” she said with a sniff, although she did not relent in her embrace, and the constant trembling up her spine put the lie to her statement.
“Are you quite certain? Pardon me, Mademoiselle. I believe I can provide a place for you to bathe and rest that does not require a cross-town flight in the dark.” It took a little work to extract the small metal object that Princess Luna had tucked into his pocket. He was fairly sure it was a key to one of the guest rooms inside the castle, but as he pulled it out and looked at it, he rapidly revised his opinion.
It was a small silver key with an enlarged fob, on which was engraved a perfect replica of Princess Luna’s cutie mark. The entire object radiated a silvery light that filled the hallway with a cool sense of peace, and raised significant tension inside Papercut’s chest.
“It’s one of the guest rooms in the Lunar Wing, isn’t it?” hazarded Crosswind with a hesitant touch to the key.
“Close,” he managed to croak in response. “It’s not a guest room.”
“Oh. My.” Crosswind looked up into his eyes with a growing smile. “It’s got a huge bed, doesn’t it?”
“Right now, I’m just hoping it has a shower,” he said. “You can have Her Highness’ bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
It turned out that Princess Luna’s Royal Bedroom Suite did have a huge shower with a vast collection of mane care products. It did not, however, have a couch.
They improvised.
* ♥ *
Time: 11:30 P.M. 45 Hours until Zero Hour
Schedule: Private Meeting - Princess Twilight Sparkle and Friends
Location: Outside the Royal Baths of Canterlot Castle
State of Alicorn Anxiety: Pale Orange fading to Blue
Despite the chaos and tumult as the last of the poisoned griffons were finally relocated to more peaceful and medical areas, this particular corridor inside the Canterlot castle was relatively quiet. There were few places in Equestria more defended against interruption than the Royal Baths, because there were few things in Equestria more fearsome than a tired alicorn with a squeaky toy being roused from her late-night soak. No panic-stricken servant overwrought from some trivial occurrence or over-officious noble could possibly get through the guard posts, but one fiercely determined young griffon and her escort had strolled almost casually to this point by way of the implied permission and determined gait of the young who don’t know just how impossible a task she was attempting, despite being told as much for several minutes so far.
“I said, I’m going to go speak with Princess Twilight Sparkle,” said Princess Sun Shines, skittering down the tiles of the granite hallway with a distinctive scritch-scratch to her pace as her unsheathed claws and talons left tiny scratches in her wake.
“And I said, you’re not going to be permitted,” said Laminia, striding along at the little griffon’s side.
“You are dismissed,” said the little griffon with a wave of one claw that made her deliberate tread skip a step. “Go to the Wingmaster’s side where you belong.”
“You can’t dismiss me,” insisted Laminia without even breaking her stride. “Lumpy ordered me to watch you.”
“As Third Heir, I hereby counter that order,” said Sunny.
“As the mate to the Wingmaster, I am honor-bound to abide by his commands regardless of the heir’s wishes,” said Laminia. “Besides, this way I can tell you ‘I told you so.’” She nodded at the grim Royal Guards blocking the door at the end of the hallway in front of a large sign that read ‘Royal Baths - No Admittance.’
These guards did not move out of the way.
The little griffon princess arranged her feathers and bobbed her head at the two impassive Royal Guards, who continued to stare straight forward as if she was not even there, until Sunny began to squawk and screech in a very commanding tone of Griffon.
“<I, Princess Sun Shines on the Misty Mountains at Dawn Through Early Morning Hazy Skies, Third Heir to the Aerie of the Misty Mountains, Defender of the Flock and Guardian of the Hatchery, in my official capacity as princess of an aligned realm, do hereby request and require a conference with Princess Twilight Sparkle, Friend of our Aerie and Egg-Sister Once Removed to Princess Cadence of the Crystal Empire, Guardian of Equestria, Bearer of the Element of Magic, Freifrau of House Twinkle, Mistress of the Silver Diadem, Defender of the Realm and my friend.>”
The guard at the door looked down briefly before casting a relieved glance back up the hallway.
“Actually, Sunny,” said Green Grass as he trotted down the hallway towards them, “Twilight’s title is Freiin, not Freifrau, at least until two days from now. Good evening, Your Majesty. Your Highness.” The earth pony swept into a deep bow to the griffon and the nocturne. “I always get the married/unmarried qualifiers of Germane titles confused. Shouldn’t you be in bed?” he added with a sideways glance at Laminia, who was acting far too innocent.
The little griffon’s beak jerked up and she frowned in a way that was probably meant to be intimidating. “<Good evening, Prospective Prince by Mating to Princess Twilight Sparkle. We Request and Require your assistance in procuring an audience with your intended mate.>”
Green Grass cocked his head to the side slightly and managed a smile, as if the sight of the little griffon princess was a welcome relief after the other events of the evening. “I’m not a member of your nest, Princess Sunny. I can only be Requested and Required by either Princess Luna or Princess Celestia.”
He paused, then after a moment, looked back over his shoulder at the empty corridor.
“Expecting somepony?” asked Laminia with a flick of one membranous wing to waft away the sour odor of untreated crop residue.
“I thought for absolute certain that Princess Luna was gliding along back there, just waiting for the right line,” said Green Grass. “Anyway, Princess Sunny, as much as I need a bath, you need to be in bed. Resting.”
Sunny lifted one pinfeathered wing and sniffed. “I need a bath too. The tub back in my room is pony-sized. I’d just fall down while trying to bathe and hurt myself, which could cause a diplomatic incident.”
She reared up on her hind paws and swept one wing across her chest before falling backwards in the castle corridor with a solid thump. Waving all four legs, she moaned, “Help! I’ve fallen in this dangerous tub and can’t get up.” Opening one eye a crack, she watched Green Grass for his reaction.
“Hm…” Green Grass rubbed a hoof across his chin before frowning at it and holding it as far away from his tortured nose as possible. “You took your medicine, right Sunny?”
The little griffon nodded with a distasteful grimace, although she remained on her back with her legs sticking up in the air.
“And you’re obviously feeling in good spirits, or you wouldn't be such a cute little chick.”
“I think Emperor Ripping Claw is contagious,” said Lamina. “He’s given little Sunny such a sense of humor that I really don’t want to know how my husband is going to act after he comes home.”
“And I don’t think we’ve ever given you a tour of the Royal Baths,” added Green Grass.
Sunny opened both eyes and rolled upright with an eager grin.
Turning to one of the door guards, Green Grass cleared his throat. “Lord Green Grass and guests hereby request entrance to the baths. I vouch for Princess Sunny, both in her behavior and her protection from harm.”
The pegasus guarding the door slid his impassive gaze slightly to one side where Laminia was acting suspiciously innocent again. “No high dives?”
“No high dives,” said Laminia. “Not until after the foal is born.” She grinned. “Then I’m teaching her how to swim so we can dive together!”
“Very well.” The guard shifted to one side. “You may enter. There’s a soaping station set up off to your right, and try not to use too many towels.”
“Erm, Sergeant Capricorn,” started Green Grass with a second distracted glance behind him and a subtle tap to the side of his head where a communication crystal would have been if he were dressed in guard armor. “Do you think you could check where Princess Luna is? Having both of them vanish like this is a little unnerving.”
“Both princesses are occupied with another task this evening,” said the guard. “Their location is on a need to know basis.”
~ ~ ~ ♥ ~ ~ ~
From the Editor’s desk at the Canterlot Times building, News Flash could feel the deep rumble of the printing presses start up as the perfect end to the most productive news run of his life. It had not even been an hour since the panicked photographer had burst into the newsroom, blathering as fast as he could talk and waving his camera. An actual assassination attempt on the Griffon emperor whatshisname at a state dinner, and the Canterlot Times had an exclusive photo to run top of the fold.
This issue was going to sell like water buckets at a house fire.
The article had almost written itself as the photographer stammered out a few broken phrases while his photo had been whisked off to be developed. News Flash himself had run the typewriter right there in the press room while the other reporters took notes. Tensions between the Equestrian ponies and the Griffon empire had never been lower and newspaper sales had dropped right down there at the same time. Now things were looking up again.
“Here’s to a banner month of sales,” he murmured, rummaging into the cabinet and coming out with a hefty bottle and a glass, but before he could get the cork out of the bottle, the deep rumbling beneath his hooves died away.
“What the…” It took a few minutes to lock the bottle away again and dash downstairs to the press room, but as he skidded to a halt in the now-silent room filled with hulking machinery, he really began to wish he had brought the bottle with him. Or two bottles.
“P-p-princess Celestia!” he managed to stammer. “W-w-what brings you here?”
The towering white princess that he had never actually met face-to-face before remained immersed in what appeared to be an intense scrutiny of the first newspaper that had emerged from the press, still warm but speckled with little red marks as the correcting pencil in her magical grasp darted back and forth across the page. She paused, still seemingly entranced in her correcting until she slipped the red pencil back into her mane and turned to face him with one slightly raised eyebrow.
“Editor News Flash, I presume.”
It was not a question. It was a statement of pure fact that implied a deep personal knowledge of his every activity at the newspaper, from the little digs in the society page about a certain princess’ cake consumption habits to his profitable ‘agreement’ with Prince Blueblood regarding the quick burying of any stories about his philandering habits. What was worse, Princess Celestia had not even moved since her brief statement, and that meant that News Flash was going to have to say something in return, much as a novice tennis player sees that floating lob coming over the net with all the time in the word to hit it back, knowing full well that disaster and pain will follow.
“Freedom of the press?” he managed to squeak.
The Princess of the Sun smiled, much as News Flash could imagine a shark smiling at the sight of a wounded pony being thrown into the sea, only this smile came with a slow shaking of the head and a certain amused sparkle in her eyes. Or at least he hoped that was amusement. “I have never thrown a printing press in jail for printing a falsehood,” said Celestia, “nor thrown them into the darkest dungeon to be tortured, or had any other punishment imposed upon them. I rather like printing presses.”
News Flash got the distinct feeling that editors did not fall into the same category.
The crinkling of fresh newsprint echoed around the press room as Celestia folded the paper and presented it to him, the red of corrections outnumbering the few words still visibly in print under the red, as well as a dark red line drawn through the blaring headline of GRIFFON EMPEROR ATTACKED BY ROYAL GUARD.
“It is a rather good picture,” admitted Celestia, considering the slightly blurry color photo of a large nocturne slamming a hoof into Emperor Ripping Claw’s throat. “Accurate in detail and completely false in context. Tell me, Mister Flash, do you know what Wingmaster Pumpernickel was doing at the time he struck his emperor in that way?”
“Hitting his emperor in the throat?” A faint breeze in the press room brought the bitter reek of semi-digested fish to News Flash’s nose and triggered a few brain cells that had been dormant since his early elementary education. “I mean crop,” he corrected as other brain cells began to chain-fire inside his head. “It’s lower on their necks. Griffons have crops as a way to start to digest food before it is passed on to their main stomach, allowing them to get the maximum amount of nutrition out of their omnivorous diet.” It was nearly word-for-word out of his elementary school Biology of Equestria book⁽*⁾, a feat that his former teacher Miss Stencil would have been amazed at twenty years ago. “Why was the bat hitting the emperor in the crop?” he continued, having exhausted any unfired neurons for the moment.
(*) It has been theorized by several ponies in the Royal Court that Princess Celestia’s true talent is not raising the sun, but somehow raising the average intelligence of the Canterlot nobility to something approaching normality by her presence, and that raising the sun is just a hobby.
—
“Because Emperor Ripping Claw and every other griffon in the room had just ingested a fatal dose of henbane from the meal tonight,” said Celestia in the same pleasant voice that she might have used to remark on a particularly pretty flower. “Princess Twilight Sparkle managed to detect the poison, and the rapid response by Wingmaster Pumpernickel and the rest of the guests managed to convert the potential slaughter of a diplomatic mission into a…” Celestia paused, looking contemplative.
“Rescue?” prompted News Flash.
Celestia beamed, and News Flash suddenly felt the irrational sensation of a metaphorical gold star being placed on his report card. “Yes, exactly. I mean, can you imagine what would have happened if copies of this story had wound up in the Griffon Empire?”
“The griffons would have—” News Flash cut off abruptly before saying “greatly increased our circulation” as he had intended on saying, converting the phrase instead to the much more survivable “—been awfully angry at ponies in general, and Equestrian ponies specifically.”
Princess Celestia nodded in an encouraging fashion.
“There might even have been some attacks,” he continued with a nervous glance up at his sovereign. “And ponies might have been… killed?”
“And?” prompted Celestia.
“That would have made you unhappy?” One of the unfortunate side-effects of being an editor was the knowledge of a large number of alternatives for the word ‘unhappy,’ none of which he really wanted to face right now. Or later. Or anytime, for that matter.
“War is never a happy time,” said Celestia, appearing to be momentarily caught in an unpleasant memory. “It is far worse when the conflict could have been avoided through communication.”
“Ah…” News Flash produced a pencil and commandeered a pad of paper from a nearby desk. “Your Highness, as a witness to the events, would you be willing to answer a few questions? Anonymously, if you wish.”
“I would be glad to assist in any way possible.”
The various elements of the press gradually emerged from their hiding places much like cockroaches as the exclusive interview progressed and the story formed onto paper. The offending printing plates were quietly lifted from the massive press and disposed of while new plates were being set up, the headline writers conspired together to produce GRIFFON EMPEROR ATTACKED across the top of the masthead with ‘Ponies Rally To Rescue Poisoned Diplomats’ in somewhat smaller print below. It took less time than News Flash had expected until he was looking at a new front page story that would sell just as many papers without plunging two empires into bloody warfare, although there was still something missing.
“We can’t run this picture with this story, Your Highness. It’s just…” News Flash paused while paging through his mental thesaurus, with nothing coming up to fit Eight Down - Thirteen Letter Word For Not Correct In This Context.
The upper back windows to the press room popped open and a dark shadow swept inside, dropping down beside Princess Celestia so deftly that the paper spread across the desk barely rippled. When News Flash had been a young reporter, the worst disaster that could possibly be imagined was referred to as ‘Alicorn Level,’ and now with two alicorns within reach of him, he trembled to think of any cosmic incident that could require both Celestia and Luna to handle.
Oh, pucker. There’s four of them now. And they’ll all be at the wedding.
“The photographs took forever to develop, sister.” Princess Luna spread a set of crisp pictures of the diplomatic dinner and the aftermath across the table, capturing the sense of the occasion so perfectly that the scent of regurgitated fish finally managed to penetrate to News Flash’s awareness, although he quickly shoved the nauseous sensation to one side as he hooved through the pictures.
“Where did you get these, Princess? They’re perfect. Really perfect.” He held one of the pictures up to the light and examined the image of Princess Twilight Sparkle holding a little fledgeling griffon while it vomited. The granularity of the shot was finer than anything his own photographers had ever produced, and was framed and timed with the skill of a master to catch Princess Twilight’s look of intense concern for her little friend, as well as the surge and splash of crop residue as it sprayed in the general direction of a repurposed soup tureen. “Front page, below the fold,” he snapped hoofing the picture over to the compositing crew. “Title it Princess Twilight Sparkle helping her griffon friend after the attack. Crop out that green pony to the side holding the bucket.”
“Lord Green Grass,” corrected Princess Luna with a sharp glance at the pony holding the scissors. “Her fiancé. He stays.”
“Right,” said News Flash, pulling a series of photos out of the pile that showed the griffon emperor in various states of distress. “This one for top of fold, center. This one…” He paused with the picture of the emperor of all griffons spewing across the table and considered just how little he wanted to be the target of Emperor Ripping Claw’s displeasure once he recovered. “Don’t print this one. Or this one, or this one. Here we go. Open a second page, photo spread. This one shows that big bat tending to the emperor, so it should go center. Make sure we get at least one picture of each of the bearers of the Elements of Harmony and that poor green schmuck marrying Princess Twilight.”
News Flash paused and looked up, but the press room was remarkably (and thankfully) empty of alicorns.
* ♥ *
Doors had always fascinated Princess Sun Shines, with the unknown potential that lurked behind them until they were opened. Home had so many doors that had been nailed shut for years from the distant past when the entire aerie had been full. Lately, as other griffons had moved into the aerie, the empty rooms had been opened like dusty treasure chests to reveal their ages-old forgotten contents. This Canterlot castle door was just as plain on the surface as anything at her home, but behind it were wonderful things.
Watery wonderful things.
The Royal Baths had started as a large natural cavern uncovered during the castle construction and had been expanded greatly over the years of Celestia’s rule as various devotees of the Art of the Smallest Room allowed their creativity to run wild, encouraged, of course, by a near-limitless budget. Waterfalls cascaded down the far side of the huge open area in a glittering cascade of moonlit spray backlit by dozens of brilliant light globes scattered around the roof like nearby stars. In the center, a small artificial volcano bubbled silently, surrounded by a collection of pools, both large and small, which was where the true magic of the baths occurred.
Each of the pools held a particular environment and temperature, from the steaming and bubbling sulfur-caked pool held at near-boiling levels that Celestia preferred after a long day in court, all the way over to a series of mineral water pools next to a wall of ice that Luna enjoyed chilling in after a long flight among the stars during the humid summer nights. Under normal circumstances, the baths were horribly underutilized, with at most two occupants enjoying relative solitude at opposite ends of the huge room, but tonight there were dozens of colorful ponies paddling, stroking, or skimming across the surface of the pools, mostly in the middle area where a blotch of purple was surrounded by several other colorful mares and a vast collection of other females.
“Princess Sun Shines!” gasped a voice to Sunny's side and a bright yellow unicorn mare came scurrying over, still carrying a scrub brush covered in soap suds in her magical field. “I didn’t expect you here tonight. Shouldn’t you still be in bed, recovering?”
“Good evening, Lemony,” said Green Grass quickly before Sunny could recover from her gape-beaked inspection of the huge griffon water park-to-be. “Princess Sunny would like to speak with Twilight this evening. Uh…” He craned his neck and squinted in the direction of the group of ponies in the largest pool. “Is that the foal shower that the castle staff and guard spouses had scheduled for the Oh Heavens Why Do We Have So Many meeting room this evening?”
“It sure is, we just moved the location a little,” said the yellow unicorn as she nudged her three newest guests over to a large assemblage of sudsy tubs that smelled slightly of disinfectant and heavily of lilacs. “Hop on in there and we’ll get you all scrubbed and rinsed before letting you out into the pools. Let me get that for you.”
The muffled yipe of surprise from Green Grass distracted Sunny from her inspection of her prospective playground. Obviously, the teacher had not expected to be stripped of his smelly jacket and hat by the servant’s magic, and while he argued with the stripper, Sunny slipped into the nearest sudsy tub with a startled yipe of surprise from it too.
“Sunny!” gasped Rarity, coming out from under the suds like a breaching… well, not a whale. She was not that large, and did not really look anything like the pictures in the book. A rabbit emerging from the snow during a winter hunt, perhaps. A chubby rabbit, with a horn.
In any event, the suds-covered unicorn eyed her new tubmate with a growing smile even as Sunny stretched out her pinfeathered wings and splattered soap suds in all directions. “Hello, Miss Rarity,” she chirped while settling down in the soapy water and splashing around to get good and wet. “I’m here to thank Princess Twilight Sparkle for saving my life, but I need to thank you too.”
“Thank me? Why whatever for?” said Rarity with a wave of her scrubbing brush that descended over the little grifflet and began to scrub in a vigorous fashion. “It was really nothing special, I mean my little Sweetie Belle seems to get into situations like that every week. Nothing quite as deadly as henbane, of course, but the Ponyville hospital has a stomach pump reserved just for my sister and her little friends.”
“Really?” Sunny lifted one wing so the scrub brush could do its work.
“As honest as Applejack,” responded Rarity. “Stretch out your foreclaws, dear, so I can get between the talons.”
“Wow.” Sunny turned around so she could get her other side scrubbed and watched as a very naked Green Grass slid into a neighboring tub with a scrub brush clenched firmly in his teeth and repeated rejections of any bathing assistance from the unicorn servant. “They sound like fun!”
“Fun?” The scrubbing brush hesitated for a moment as Rarity shuddered. “They do seem to enjoy their little escapades, I suppose. After you talk with Twilight, perhaps you could go speak with them. They’re over in one of the jacuzzi pools next to the volcano where Spikie is snoozing. They’re supposed to be keeping an eye on him, and Twilight has a shield spell over any of the pools that might be too hot for them, so I suppose they’re relatively safe.”
The last word was spoken to an empty space as the little griffon burst out of the sudsy tub in a wave of water, splashed once through the rinse tub in a similar although less soapy splash, and proceeded to bound along in giant wing-assisted leaps in the direction of the ongoing foal shower, trailing water all the way.
Rarity remained still semi-submerged in her own soapy tub until Green Grass’ voice shook her out of her thoughts.
“I was kinda-sorta hoping to keep the Cutie Mark Crusaders and Sunny separated until the wedding, Rarity. Like about thirty seconds before Twilight walks down the aisle, maybe?”
“Why, whatever do you mean?” Rarity brushed a length of sodden mane out of her eyes and regarded the green stallion, who was stepping out of the tub while streaming a trail of soap suds. “They’re in the only place in the castle where I’m certain they can’t set anything on fire.”
Green Grass paused his descent into the rinse tub to roundly plant a soggy hoof on his forehead. “I wish you hadn’t said that. It’s just under two days until the wedding and I’m not sure if Mount Canter is volcanic.”
* ♥ *
The two Royal Sisters paced each other, wingtip to wingtip as they soared through the night sky of Canterlot. Their only major companion among the stars was the Griffon airship, which sat placidly on the end of its tether to one side of the city, with the navigation lights and a few lit windows still showing the activity of its mostly pony crew. It would have been a diplomatic slight to have the Royal Guard shuttling crewmembers back and forth between the hospitalized diplomatic mission and their mobile base of operations, but a number of pegasus ‘volunteers’ from the city had been maintaining a steady back-and-forth transport service since the incident. The fact that most of the volunteers had short-trimmed manes and uniform colors was not remarked upon.
The sisters circled the massive airship once, waving at the watchpony who stood guard on the prow in the place of the missing griffons, before shifting their mutual flight in the direction of home, and a quick bath before their next activities. Celestia was exhausted from the busy day, but not so tired that she did not give her little sister a loving nuzzle up the neck once they had landed, regardless of any leftover smelly splatters.
“Oh, Luna. You can’t believe how much I appreciate having you back.”
“Certes I can, dear sister,” replied Luna with a cautious return nuzzle. “Else, thou wouldst have to deal with these troublesome issues all by thyself.”
Celestia giggled like a schoolfilly and nipped at Luna’s ear. “True, as always. Only two more days, and normality should return.”
“Normal is boring,” said Luna with a roll of her eyes. “You’re just looking forward to spoiling little Clover when she is born.”
“You betcha,” said Celestia with a grin that slowly faded. “Luna. You haven’t…”
“I hath been keeping to my regimen of hormonal regulators with great care, dear sister.” She pouted and cast a cautious glance skywards at where the zeppelin obscured the stars. “Besides, the times are not right for me to bring forth an heir to my powers, no matter how cute and adorable she would be. There are dark nights ahead of us, dark and filled with dangers.”
“True, but on this occasion, I believe that our Twilight has stumbled upon a wisdom that has eluded us both. If we wait until the time is right, that time may never come, and our opportunity shall be missed.” Celestia frowned, but with a trace of a smile. “We shall just have to spoil her little ones rotten to compensate for our loss.”
“I call dibs on spoiling our new little niece with ice cream,” declared Luna. “I shall deed thee whatever flavors and types of chocolate you wish, other than ice cream, for I am certain that thy older niece shall wish the entire category of strawberries for her own domain of spoiling.”
“Agreed.” Celestia nodded as she opened the private side-door to the Royal Baths with her magic. “As long as we can share—”
Both alicorns came to an abrupt halt as they walked inside.
The reason was obvious. And pink.
Bubbles filled the Royal Bath cavern almost to the top, foaming up from the collection of bubbling pools below and floating through the air currents like foamy clouds. Somewhere high above, Discord floated in a giant pink bubble of his own, laughing as hard as Celestia had ever heard the god of chaos chortle before, including the time so long ago when he had created flamingos. Both the artificial volcano and the surrounding pools were almost obscured by bubbles, which were also decorating a long stream of bubble-wearing mares, headed for the exit in a long, giggling line. Bubble-manes seemed to be the fashion of the moment, as well as more than a few bubble-covered tails swished proudly behind as the giggling castle employees filed by their sovereign majesty, each bowing or nodding at Celestia and Luna as they walked by. As much as Celestia wanted to find out what was going on, she found it much more relaxing to simply stand by her sister and greet each departing attendee at the foal shower with a quiet “So glad you could make it” or “Thank you so much for your time.”
“Princess Celestia! I’m sorr—”
Celestia cut off the enthusiastic bride-to-be with a simple raised eyebrow and scooted slightly to one side so Twilight Sparkle could slip between the Royal Sisters and continue the Thank You’s and So Glad’s for the rest of the departing guests. Finally, after all the guests had all been accounted for, five other ponies came trudging out of the wall of suds, each with a smaller sudsy figure on their backs.
Spike was, of course, still sleeping, but all three of the Cutie Mark Crusaders and the little griffon fledgeling had their absolute most powerful puppy-dog eyes on, which probably would have worked better if they had not been covered nose-to-tail in soap suds. Princess Twilight unlimbered a nearby hose and turned on the water while explaining.
“I’m sorry, Princess Celestia. Somehow they managed to set the water on fire.”
“It was that barrel of bath oil that tipped over when we were climbing on it,” explained a suds-covered Scootaloo.
“It kinda got on the volcano,” said Apple Bloom’s voice from inside a different lump of suds.
“Ptooy!” declared Sweetie Belle as the suds were washed off. “We knew that firefighters use foam in clouds to fight really tough fires.”
Sunny shook her feathers free of soap suds and leaned into the water as Twilight rinsed her off. “And I saw this big tub of liquid soap next to the jacuzzi.”
“Under two days left, dear,” said Green Grass with a mischievous grin as he trudged by with the stack of rescued foal shower presents on his back. “Are you sure you don’t want to make a quick trip to Las Pegasus?”
Twilight lifted the gifts from his back and stacked them to one side in an area that had been somewhat spared from the bubbles that covered the rest of the Royal Bath. She smiled, in a Royal fashion that had become second nature to her over the last few days…
And turned the hose on him at full force.