Authors:
TB3
Redskin122004

Editors:
Kizuna Tallis
DoctorFluffy
Bendy

Pre-Readers:
Sledge115
VoxAdam
TheIdiot

“Democracy means government by discussion, but it is only effective if you can stop people talking.”
- Clement Attlee

“We had a long road ahead of us, Rainbow Dash and I... well, not too long because we didn’t have much time. The point is, I was up for the challenge.”
- Rarity, ‘Rarity Investigates’

- - - - -

“Sister! It is good that you came when you did!” Luna exclaimed with excitement, her wings vibrating with pure joy.

“Oh? What have I missed, Luna?” Celestia gave Luna a tired smile, clearly forcing it to show.

“Sister?” Luna tilted her head, quickly taking Celestia’s side and wrapping a wing over her. “Is something the matter?”

“Oh…” Celestia gave a long sigh, a weak chuckle escaping from her lips. “It’s something that transpired with Discord.”

“Big Brother, Luna?” Celestia couldn’t help but give her a small tease. Luna flushed somewhat, looking away in embarrassment.

“Ah… well. That is what he is… isn’t it?” Luna blinked owlishly at her, a look so unsuited to her that Celestia gave a small laugh.

“I suppose that is true.” Celestia began to trot off, Luna quickly following at her side. “But I’d rather talk about in privacy, over a spot of tea.”

Once seated in the castle’s Tea Room, a venue usually given over to the more discrete forms of diplomacy, Celestia set about preparing her refreshment. A storm had passed over earlier, and though rain still cascaded against the leaded windows as low peals of thunder retreated into the distance, in the holies of holies that was the Tea Room, it was perfectly warm and cosy.

Luna watched in quasi-amusement at the meticulousness of the routine, rolling her eyes as her older sister counted four sugarcubes into the teacup. Celestia always favoured a Red Tea, usually using the tealeaves of the far eastern ‘Fire Needle’, and just as ever she promptly drowned the delicate flavours under a flood of milk and sugar. Good tea, in Luna’s opinion, should never be adulterated, but Celestia ‘would’ of course use her tea breaks as a chance to indulge her sweet tooth. it was a bad habit she had picked up from their tutelage as wards of Sint Erklass…

Who also liked his tea with sweets. Or spices, or cherry jam, or even liberal amounts of whisky. Adlaborn being as cold as it was, tea was effectively the national beverage of the reindeer, and they had developed all manner of variations and condiments by which to prepare it.

“Would you like some tea with your sugar? Yea, your rump will only get even bigger if you continue to add more.” Luna drawled, causing Celestia to stick her tongue out at her.

“My rump is perfectly fine.” Celestia said with an air of assured confidence.

“Yes, perfectly round and big.” Luna whispered under her breath, remembering Queen Chrysalis’s ‘diplomatic’ comments as regards to Celestia’s ‘shapely glutes’.

“What was that?” she said curiously as she tilted her head to the side, whilst she perked her ears.

“Nothing, nothing,” Luna sang out, giggling at the narrowed eyes of suspicion directed at her.

“You sure you don’t want any, Luna?” Celestia asked, Luna smiled as she shook her head.

“No need, I already had my share with the future Minister today.” Luna waved off the cup, before she gave a bright smile.

“Ah.” Celestia gave a small sigh as she took a sip, a chuckle escaping her as she look to Luna.

- - - - -

Being invited to the office of a Princess of Equestria could mean either one of two things. Either she had uncovered some dirt on you, or you were about to have your world thoroughly shaken up and stirred. Usually, the two went hoof in hoof.

Fancypants wasn’t worried about the former, as he conducted all his business through legal and ethical means. Plus, his two terms as Prime Minister had been especially free of under-table dealings and bribery on his behalf. All of this was in accordance to his own principles, but when one served as the highest civil servant for as radiant and incorruptible a being like Celestia, what else could he have done? Anything less, he reasoned, was a form of self-abusive prostitution. Thus his track record was clean, unlike several nobles he could name.

Which meant Luna planned to rock his world. Being quite unfamiliar with the Princess of the Night, Fancy feared he had every right to be afraid.

“It is our wish that you once again assume the Prime Ministership of Equestria,” Luna repeated, sitting at her desk with a calm air, paperwork neatly stacked to the side, drinking a special blend of tea she had put out for both of them. “Lady Chamber Tale presented her resignation to me this morning.”

Fancy’s ears perked up at the news. Chamber Tale was more than just his party’s leader. She was a close friend. For her to have resigned could only mean one thing…

Luna’s expression became melancholy as she dipped her head subtly. “I’m afraid so. Cancer of the horn, on the verge of spreading to her alicornal tissues, and she requires immediate medical care if she is to survive the year.”

Silence hung for a few seconds. By unspoken agreement, they clinked their teacups together in salute to a good friend and a dedicated public servant. Neither used magic for the little gesture, gripping their cups by the handles.

“As I said, Sir Fancy,” Luna continued. “In light of dear Chamber Tale having resigned her stewardship over my royal sister’s government, how can I ensure that you will be her successor, without abusing the new democratic structures that, nowadays, legitimise our entire Diarchy?”

“You can call me Luna,” she said, offering him a warm smile. “You’re not some newly-minted minister tripping over his own cufflinks anymore, from what I hear.”

Fancy laughed nervously, remembering the embarrassing circumstances in which he had began his first stint as Prime Minister. He could imagine the amusement on Celestia’s face as she regaled her little sister with the tale.

“I... What I mean to say, is that it isn’t proper of me to speak to you so… plainly,” Fancy said quietly as he lowered his head. “Especially if I am to once again serve as the bridge between Crown and State… which itself is not guaranteed by Chamber Tale’s resignation.”

Luna gave a soft sigh, shaking her head as she did so. “Very well. But is it not true, that you have served on every Cabinet for the past three terms? Your standing among the Harmony Party is unquestionable, and when a new party leader is elected, I assume you need but put forward your name as a candidate to secure the role, such is your support. Therefore, since your party still holds the greatest number of seats in both the House and the Senate, would that not automatically confer upon you the title of Prime Minister?”

“Not in a time of national crisis,” he explained, shaking his head, a touch of political savvy giving him confidence. “Installing me as Prime Minister would go unopposed in peacetime, but with the current situation, the appointment would come under scrutiny of the Supreme Court… even if they upheld the decision, my administration would be tainted with doubt, which is the last thing Equestria needs when we are about to go to war.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed. “Then is my only option to dissolve Parliament? Would a call for fresh elections deliver sufficient seats to the Harmony Party to guarantee you the primacy?”

The question was like a live wire – grabbing hold of it was inherently dangerous. Fancy pondered for a minute, then pursed his lips. “It could, potentially, during a General Election,” he said at last. “But there is a danger. The war situation could quite possible polarize the voters to the fringes, to the more radical parties like EQIP and the Canterlot Supremacists. The result would likely split the base of the Grand Old Parties and produce a fractious coalition government… a union without a popular mandate. Hardly conducive to the war effort.”

“Hmm…” Luna pondered as they were each served another cup of tea. She pushed a tray of muffins towards him. “What is the status of each party? Who would you see becoming Premier in the event of an election?”

“Well, we can immediately dismiss the Canterlot Supremacist Alliance,” said Fancy, in between bites of a particularly juicy blueberry muffin. “They’d make this go pear-shaped in the time it takes either of us to blink. Even if they got more votes than usual, the CSA have been leaderless since Azure Haven got himself killed in that drunken airship accident.”

Luna raised an arch eyebrow while Fancy rolled on. “Flight Cloudsdale will probably swing the vote in every one of the pegasi city-states. They’d be a likely contender to form a voting majority within a coalition. Their leader Stormy Flare would be an excellent Deputy PM, especially since her daughter currently commands the Wonderbolts. Any coalition incorporating FC would swing the pro-military electorate behind you – pegasi have always supported strengthening the armed forces.”

“So does Bilious Barrage of the Equestrian Intervention Party,” Luna pointed out, making a sharp jab with her teacup. “And I do not want to see that speciesist piece of filth anywhere near High Government. At least Azure could feign statesmanship!”

“Don’t worry about EQIP,” Fancy counselled, sneering in mutual contempt. “They draw the worst elements of the voting block, the fearful and hateful, but thankfully, that shrinks their electoral base to a fraction of our nation’s populace. Say what you will about us ponies, but we have never had much tolerance for politics of hate.”

“In this world, Sir Fancy…” Luna corrected him, a troubled expression crossing her face. “And that only by the very grace of fate. No doubt Mr Barrage’s manifesto to expand Equestrian territory and ‘civilize’ our neighbors went down a treat in the Solar Empire...”

“That brings us to the Grand Old Parties. ‘Comrade’ Trotsky of the Communitarians has little patience for tradition or the Diarchy, but he values Equestrian society and would not want to see it brutalised – and he would abhor the tyranny we are now a witness too. He’s also a pan-speciesist who has no issue working with mankind. But in the event of an election that fails to deliver a majority he would not compromise his principles to form a coalition, even if it could promote his party’s standing within the electorate. He would see it as betraying his popular support. Depending on his returns at the polling booths, we would possibly see a hung parliament, and there is a grave danger of that happening, since the Communitarians have a solid voter base that would show few signs of defectors in the event of an election. Their numbers could remain consistent while the other major parties lose voters to the fringes.”

“And what of the Representation Party? Their leader seems a far more accommodating stallion.”

“Plain Speakin’ has massive appeal among the industrial population, and his party thus command the second-highest number of seats in both the House of Commons and the Senate. ‘Honest Plain’, they call him. He’s a solid fellow with an expert understanding of law, and I promise you he’d do anything to ensure the swift and decisive prosecution of the war, even if it meant suspending civil liberties, a move I myself can only abhore.”

“So, my options would be either a majority government led by Comrade Trotsky, a figure who would love to see the Thrones made obsolete, or a coalition with either yourself or Plain Speakin’ as Prime Minister, and Lady Flare as a deputy… both have clear merits, and yet would represent a dangerous political balance in a time when we need to rally round the flag.”

Luna retreated back into silence, but then Fancy found himself raising his hoof like a foal in school.

“Princess, there is another way…” he said. “If you’ll pardon my presumption.”

“Sir Fancypants, I am an old mare.” Luna held up her hoof to stave off any sort of rebuttal. “Take a chapter from Honest Plain’s book and speak your mind. Even before my millenia-long departure, I was guiding ponies for five hundred years, and heard ‘presumptions’ in that time that would cause you to sprout wings!”

“And you have done so beautifully,” Fancy responded by instinct, before realizing what he’d said. “Wait, what?”

She chuckled ruefully. “We’re friends here, Fancy. Please, tell me how best we might both serve Equestria. And for the hundredth time, please call me Luna. For my sake, if not yours.”

“Prin– I mean, Luna…” Fancy swallowed. “A government of national unity could be formed. A coalition based on mutual respect and love of country, not electoral votes. Almost all the Opposition would respond positively to that, even Trotsky, since it wouldn’t require him to betray any potential mandate from the voters. We could have a cabinet assembled within but a few hours, Luna…”

“The Representationists have the second highest number of seats, so Plain Speakin’ would be the rightful choice as Deputy PM. If he plays his cards right, the experience could see him win a genuine mandate at the first postwar election… and more power to him for it. Trotsky would almost certainly accept Minister of the Interior or even Secretary of State, and Stormy Flare is ideal for Minister of War… that entire family has thunder and lightning in their blood. Those nominations immediately bring the greatest voting blocks in the Parliament into line. The other roles we can fill as necessary from each party’s brightest sparks…”

“And we might even be able to decapitate the standing of some of our less wholesome political factions, hmm?” quizzed Luna, and they shared a conspiratorial grin.

“All in the name of Equestria of course, Princess,” Fancy replied, adopting a haughty tone.

“Oh indeed,” she chuckled, before mimicking his bearing. “All for Equestria, Prime Minister.”

They clinked glasses again, and Luna’s expression turned serious. “Make this happen, Fancy. Unify our peoples, and their chosen political representatives. Keep our Principality intact, and work the political magic that will win ourselves and our allies a lasting piece.”

“I am your servant, and servant of all ponies…” Fancy bowed, before pausing. “But… why me?”

“After that expert breakdown of the political situation?” she laughed out loud. “After the endless praise my sister has pour’d upon your administrative acumen, your sense of integrity, your ability to inspire? Sir Fancy! How could it be anyone else BUT you?”

She laughed hard enough to draw tears, and to Fancy’s shock, he realised that they were not tears of joy...

“Forgive this old mare…” she said, maintaining a smile event as she wiped away the salty droplets.

“Old? Your Majesty, you don’t look a day over twenty-thr… twenty-one,” he amended, seeing a touch of vanity flicker across the face of the Lunar Regent. “Our ponies might look to your sister as a beacon of stability in a changing world, but you have a quality to her she does not.”

“Novelty, if I might be so blunt. Celestia is a constant, something that we mortal folk can share in across generations, but you are a new element, and that brings both the excitement of change, and pride that this change is happening in ‘our’ time. Your return to Equestria shall forever be unique to ‘this’ generation, thus you are in essence, ‘our’ princess; you would be surprised at the political goodwill you actually possess. Even Trotsky would never go so far as to actually depose the crown, not with the current public support you have brought behind the diarchy, and he might even fail at efforts to merely curb your power. We love you, Princess, just as much as we do your sister.”

Luna was gazing into the depths of her teacup, and although her expression was inscrutable, her eyes seemed to glitter with emotion. “Thank you Sir Fancy, but I will always need the guidance of mortal ponies to lead ‘in the moment’. Harmony knows, I’ve made enough mistakes in the past by taking both the short and long view of affairs, as if living beings were pieces in a game...”

“What do you mean?” Fancy prodded, as he watched her lower her head and take a silent draught of tea.

“I refer to decisions made by Celestia and myself regarding the Changelings, and Sombra, scores of little things,” she said at last, holding out her teacup. A midnight blue potplant upon her desk, shimmering with silver flowers, immediately coiled itself around the handle and removed it from her grasp, returning it to the tea set.

“I've learned something these past few months…” she said at last, managing a brave smile. “That I am not so awful a ruler as I might have thought… and that my sister is not the infallible paragon I or the citizenry have made her out to be.”

She flicked her horn across the desk, and its surface became a silver-surfaced pool. Fancy glanced within, and saw both a petrified, stoic Luna, and a crazed Celestia, one who screamed and clawed at her mane as if she had lost her mind.

“There goes we, but for grace…” Luna murmured, before the image dissolved into a mass of mercurial liquid, pouring off the edge of the desk and boiling into nothingness before so much as a drop hit the floor.

“Those visions are not your destinies, Luna…” Fancy said, conviction steeling his voice. “Mistakes made in another life cast no aspersions upon your own.”

“This is not so,” she replied softly. “That my sister’s reign achieved strides towards cooperation among the nations of Equus is true. However, some longstanding aspects of our world’s geopolitics are… ‘colored’ by impulses made by the two of us in the youth of our lives. Ponies at the time of Equestria Renewed were still recovering from a certain ‘Age of Chaos’, and despite their mutual suffering still harboured the prejudices that that fuelled conflicts between the three tribes; the foolish notions that having a horn or wings made one better than one’s peers, and that those denied both were nothing more than peasants to be exploited without remorse.”

Fancy saw her close her eyes, almost certainly remembering back to her earliest decisions and oldest regrets.

“Queen Metaxis, Chrysalis’ many-times-grandsire came to us when Celestia and myself were still young, fresh from our care from Sint Erklass, flush with victory in the liberation of Equestria, and both still impressionable and arrogant. Although the changelings had long preyed upon the disparate tribes, Metaxis approached us seeking peace, with open hooves and hope in her heart that ponykind could help her subjects, mutated and victimised by the wild magics unleashed during the ancient Fall of Tirek!”

She pointed, and shadows gathered along the length of the office, shaping themselves into an animated relief on the longest wall. A young Celestia and even younger Luna stood, proud and haughty upon a craggy outcrop, casting scornful eyes upon a changeling Queen who, with her entire Honor Guard, knelt with bowed heads in a pitiable gesture of supplication.

Fancy felt an awful dread gather in the pit of his stomach. “I take it you have some regret for what came next?”

“Oh yes.” Luna sighed bitterly. “Behold the justice and mercy of Equestria.”

Upon the wall, one of the unicorns walked up to the Miniature Princesses and saluted, his evident scorn for the changelings turning to malicious glee as Celestia and Luna waved their hoof forward, sending dozens of soldiers to chase the ambassadorial party out of sight. “I was foolish, young, and so full of bravado that I was sure that the judgements of myself and my sister were righteous and just, that we could do no wrong. We were goddesses, and they were but bugs.”

With dramatic timing, the storm approaching Canterlot spoke its fury in a torrent of thunder and lightning. Paying it no heed, Luna snorted in self-disgust. “It was a decision that turned the opinions of the entire world against a species struggling to survive.”

Fancy looked away, feeling as if he was somehow intruding on Princess’s pain. That she had made an unkind decision was evident: many ponies had been found themselves exposed to friendly changelings these days, including the ranks of the nobility. It was another consequence of the human city of New New York, and the ‘melting pot’ it represented. Ponies who visited it to witness the armies training or to experience the marvellous new technologies usually came back with their worldview turned on its head.

He and Fleur had even experienced this first-hand on their own visit, and had even enjoyed a romantic dinner within an all changeling-run bistro located in one of the city’s more luxurious boroughs. Strange as the environment was, nothing bad happened to them or the other pony patrons while they ate and danced, and upon requesting the bill, had learned that they were only being charged for foodstuffs and business expenses - the staff took their payment in the love exchanged between the patrons. It was a surreal (and cheap!) experience for the both of them, and in seeking out context they had been introduced to a changeling sage named Mythuselon.

The resulting discourse over drinks at a rooftop champagne bar had been enlightening. Both Fleur and Fancy were utterly fascinated about the Changelings and had decided there and then to ply their social and political influence in winning the Hive greater recognition, perhaps even motioning that Equestria recognise the Changelings as a nation and grant them a consulate in Canterlot. Mythuselon for his part had fed their curiosity with scholarly explorations into the society of the Hive and its political structures, sharing the oral histories of his race, the songs and sagas that documented their millennia exiled from civilisation. He even told stories about Chrysalis growing up, and his accounts of her childish antics as a pupa had done much to wear down the monstrous image projected by the Queen Changeling.

Most astonishing of all for Fancy was the revelation that Chrysalis had attended the School for Gifted Unicorns at the same time as himself, the Queen gaining a Canterlot education under the double protection of disguise and an assumed name. When asked about the name the Queen went under, it had taken Fancy’s all mental control not look startled at the reveal.

‘Double Flash...’ he repeated to himself, remembering a stunningly lithe and deliciously flexible creature with the most amazing ‘bedroom eyes’. ‘But we dated for three semesters, and there was all those times that she and I… oh dear.’

With that in mind, he decided to keep those particular details a secret from Fleur… at least until they were back in the privacy (and soundproofed walls) of their own home…

...it was a situation made all the more awkward by the fact that the ring he placed upon Fleur’s horn in marriage had been intended to adorn said disguised Queen, only for her to have left Canterlot without so much as a ‘goodbye’, right at the point that he’d worked up the courage to request her hoof in marriage. He’d spent months in a fruitless search, giving up when at last he realized that ‘Double Flash’ clearly didn’t want to be found...

“Our rejection of Metaxis led directly to the changelings teetering on the edge of destruction for fifteen hundred years.” Luna closed her eyes, flattening her ears as she continued. “Much as I crave the love and affection of our ponies, I am hardly a social creature, anointed and aloof, unable to approach the ‘nitty-gritty’ of this world. Ponies such as yourself on the other hoof, Sir Fancy, they see the world for what it truly is, for they must live in it. You have connections to so many beings, right across the world, whether you are in their good graces or they are in your debt. And they are your equals and peers, not subjects or opponents. Those are the skills and connections the government need to bring Equestria through this war, and we can think of nopony better possessed of them than yourself.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that.” Fancy gave a modest chuckle, laced with embarrassment. Beyond the windows, rain began to fall.

“Oh? Are you quite sure? I hear that Queen Hedwig and Prince Tobias wish to spar with the much-renown’d Five Blade once more, and even want the Princess Gilda to be trained under your tutelage.” Luna opened her eyes, her dreaming orbs filled with mirth. “Oh what tales I have heard told of your manifold adventures, of trips through the wilds with the zebras, the gauntlet maze of the minotaurs, archeological digs in the company of Diamond Dogs. You alone have cemented more alliances in the past twenty years than I have… well, in my entire reign.”

“Luna… Princess…” Fancy looked away, “I only did those things because I was young, foolish… they were just a flight of fancy. I had no means of ever using my friendship to promote myself or my family’s interests.”

“Is that such a crime, even were it so?” Luna said, pausing in between making a sandwich from two cookies and a selection of flower petals. “From what I gather, friendship is the magic of developing interpersonal relations, and in matters of business you were no less astute that in affairs of society or state. Your possessing a network of contacts was hardly inside-trading, nor was the conduct of your family’s firms in any manner illicit. Rest assured that my sister’s elite army of accountants would have uncovered the truth were it so. Indeed, your work in the noble fields of trade merely promoted unity and trust between ponies and our esteemed neighbours, a far greater accomplishment than that achieved by all the soirees and galas held by those who look down upon ‘trade’ as being beneath them.”

He had to once again remind himself that Luna had indeed spent a thousand years trapped within Equus’ moon. Despite her pleas to the contrary, she was not only taking to Equestria politics like a duck to water, but swimming in shark-laden seas with what seemed nary a care.

“Fancy…” he said, taking a sip of his tea. Luna paused in brushing away the crumbs from her mouth, and raised an eyebrow. “If I am to call you Luna, then I insist you must call me ‘Fancy’.”

“Sir Fancy, your title was bestowed upon you for services to our state. Not even I would dare impugn such a mark of honor.”

“Celestia did all the time,” he chuckled. “And she’s the one who knighted me. Has she told you of the times she disguised herself as Fleur and traipsed around Canterlot at my side, pretending to be the very image of a trophy wife, she, Fleur and myself playing a colossal joke on the entire city? No, there is no need for any honorifics, at least I hope, not between friends.”

“Very well,” Luna was struggling to hide her own sniggers. “You are a remarkable stallion, Fancy. And no, I have not heard of these escapades in feigned matrimony. You shall have to share the juicier details with me at a more opportune time.”

She rose from her seat and proceeded to the window, gazing out over Canterlot. Even with the cloud cover of a forecasted storm, brilliant sunlight still poured through the windows, the contrast turning Luna into a jet-black silhouette, crowned with a mane of starlight and night. Fancy rose instinctively, in that brief moment getting a subtle hint of the Princess’s power and majesty.

“But that time is not now,” Luna said, all levity gone from her, voice fathomless as the skies. “Honorifics aside, we offer to you the highest office in the land. You are our first and only choice, a stallion of character impeccable, who has served with distinction, and who knows when both to apply the soft hoof, and when to slide in the iron horn.”

“I…” Fancy stared at the alicorn in shock, sensing centuries made manifest, ancient and ever-young at once.

“This war will transform Equestria, whether we will it or nought. My sister and I both long foresaw a sea change in our nation, a coming time in which Equestria’s ponies will look more to themselves to shape our national destiny, and less to the thrones.”

She spoke with neither resentment or fear, but simple resolution, before turning and casting him a warm smile that was as radiant as any star. “But we always intended to be here in case we were needed, until such time as Equestria itself abrogate our office, and return us to the dust from whence we sprang.”

“I will serve,” Fancy answered, kneeling. “Through war and peace, you have my horn, my pen, my swords. I shall act as the voice of our people and our state, and bring them towards the future you have described…”

‘If we live…’ a treacherous little thought whispered at the back of his mind.

“Yes, if we live,” Luna agreed casually, and she laughed as Fancy started. “Your fears were written on your face dear Fancy. Rest assured, I didst not scry into your thoughts…”

He joined her at the window, gazing down over the daily life of Canterlot. If Equestria was to change, then all he saw would soon be swept away. He tried to savour the moment, and hold it in his heart, taking in the sights of families, couples, ponies about their business.

‘The Age of Innocence, they’ll call it’, Fancy thought. ‘These are its last days.’

“Some things are certain,” she said, in a voice that was almost timorous. “This is a battle many ponies... no, many beings… will not survive. It is not merely to steward our state that we call you to high office, Fancy. My sister and I shall bring the fullest measure of our wrath upon the enemy we face, but we hide no aspersions that we ourselves may not survive. Should we fall, Equestria will need a leader to hold and heal the soul of the nation.”

He struggled to comprehend. While Luna had yes, mentioned the idea of Equestria moving beyond the guidance of its Princesses, it was in an abstract sense, far-flung in the future. Now though, she was speaking of a future in which the two guiding lights of the realm might well be snuffed out in but a few weeks, a few days!

Fancy snuck a sidelong look at Luna, and was surprised to see her both calm and smiling. Had she made peace with the doom she envisioned, or simply with herself? Still maintaining an air of serenity, she turned back to her desk.

“I don’t suppose I’ll have to raise the sun and moon?” he put in glibly. Luna started at that enough that she tripped on her own horseshoes, and caught himself mid-fall with a sweep of her wings. Then, hovering above the carpet like a foal learning to fly, she contorted herself in giggling laughter.

“Oh dear, no no no, Future Prime Minister! You have no need to fret about that! We hardly expect you to keep the affairs of the celestial bodies in order. No, your job is to run Equestria, nothing more.”

“Then…” Fancy stared for a long while before his face paled. “Princess, I implore you not to go, or at least have Princess Cadance remain behind, not merely to continue the duties of the sun and moon, but to safeguard against a total loss.”

“I’m sorry, but not even our dear scion can remain behind in this struggle, and were you to ask it of her, she would deny you even that comfort,” Luna paused, a flash of familial pride in her eyes. “She may look like a pretty pink princess, but our Mi Amore Cadenza has the blood of the heavens in her veins, and a moral outrage against the crimes of the Solar Empire to make even the most ardent of its berzerkers quail!”

She lowered her hoof from where she had thrust it up in a moment of drama. “And we shall need all the strength of the alicorns, and yay, mayhaps even a draconequus if we are to stand a chance of saving humanity from the tyrant that wears my sister’s face.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “And worry not about the sun and moon, Discord has them well in hoof.”

“The ‘Lord’ Discord?” Fancy was unable to remove all hint of reproach from his voice, and Luna smirked knowingly.

“Not him personally, if that allays your concerns.” She swirled her horn in an arcane pattern, and drew from some unknown space a large sphere of what appeared to be polished stone. Fancy stared, recognising one half of it as white marble. The other half however was brilliant black in color, the two hemispheres fitting perfectly together.

“I’ve seen something like it before,” he said, half-remembering auctions and treasuries he had frequented in his travels, memories so deeply rooted in his psyche he could still smell the spices of the bazaars. He leaned in close, aware that Luna was adopting the air of a teacher assessing a promising student. “I believe the materials were known as Day and Night Marble… to those unversed in lore.”

Luna gave a graceful nod. “Ah, our little ponies and their names. So then, my young stallion, what true names would you call them by?”

“Indeed. Ancient artifacts created to guide the dance of the spheres, crafted by my mother, Faust. There are twenty stones in total, and Discord knows where across the globe each should be seated to perform their role.”

Fancy looked up, a dark look in his eyes. “Then I must warn you that several have been stolen or taken in innocence. I’ve encountered them in my travels, either hoarded or under barter.”

“This is to be expected,” Luna said dismissively. “One cannot expect such ‘lovely shinies’ to go unnoticed over the course of several millennia. Discord has already volunteered to recover them, and compensate the holders accordingly.”

“Is that entirely wise?” Fancy ventured, his political instincts immediately screaming out that he should rally the diplomatic corps to resolve any forthcoming international incidents. “I do remember what he did when sending Chieftain Minos back to his homeland. Subtle as a flying mallet.”

“He has been ordered to be civil and upstanding,” she smiled, and once again Fancy was reminded of a shark. “And should some of those individuals resist, well… Discord is as Discord does. Not even the most stubborn of beings can ignore primal Chaos.”

Relieved, Fancy turned his attention back to the Celestial stone, studying it with an appraising eye, admiring the work put into it. Seen close up, it became apparent that what appeared to be subtle blemishes upon the surface of the stone were in fact markings, a tapestry of stars, phases of the moon, suns and other archaic symbols written in delicate veins within the marble, white-upon-black and vice-versa. The sums of money he had heard associated with these artifacts, each a king’s ransom in its own right, suddenly seemed paltry in light of the knowledge that this artifact had been hoof-crafted by the Divine Mother of the entire pony race.

“I've never seen one up close before. Those I have seen in my travels are usually venerated or feared; they feature heavily in the native mythologies of many cultures. The crafting is quite sublime I must say, I cannot even see the seam between the two halves… small wonder that some were even worshipped!”

“You can thank my mother,” Luna said with pride. “These stones predate the history of all living beings bar Sint Erklass himself, and their very function is to maintain the course of the sun and moon ‘cross the face of Equus without need for supervision or control, with little trouble. They are, in their own way, holy.”

“How exactly have they lasted so long, with not so much as a blemish?” Fancy asked as he examined the constellations imprinted on the sphere. He wanted to touch it, and yet did not dare, afraid that he might be committing some kind of sacrilege.

“The answer to both is through Runic Magic, the highest art, that same craft that sired myself and my kin. My mother in her wisdom also placed each stone within a specially constructed vault, hermetically sealed to protect them from weathering. Each vault was in turn magically warded and sited in area of geological stability, thus extending their lifespan. Only when the wards faded with the passage of centuries did it become possible for living beings to breach their sanctitude. Within the vaults, the stones rest upon platforms sited over the convergence of several key leylines. These sites of convergence provide the vast magick required to sustain the spell bound within the very fabric of the stones…” she smiled fondly, her eyes drifting. “Mother always knew that she wouldn’t be around to raise the one daughter she had intended, let alone two squabbling sisters, but in her kindness provided these stones as a means to relieve the burden of carrying the weight of the orbits, at least for a little while.”

“For a little while?” Fancy repeated. “Then, these stones are just a stop-gap measure, not a permanent solution?

“You are right, and yet wrong. The stones are powerful, but they will fade after some time, at which point they require an extended period of rest” Luna answered, “Celestia and myself were born of a spell intended to create a singular alicorn to bear the duties of Night and Day in the centuries that would pass as the stones recharged, they in turn providing that mare with a period of rest when able to once again take over the burden. But, well...” she craned her neck a little, smiling fondly. “That wasn’t quite how it happened. Hurricane, Platinum and Puddinghead’s squabbling might have skewed the criteria of ‘our’ birth, siring two sisters instead of one mare, but I suspect that was for the better, and that Celestia and I inherited some of that contrariness. We’re only ponies, after all.”

“Not exactly,” Fancy said, affecting an arch tone. “Some of us aren’t immortal demigods, after all.”

“I mean that we’re not as impersonal as machines,” Luna smiled, seemingly enjoying the banter. “Celestia and I were born as flawed as any other pony, and I suspect both we and Equestria are happier for it, regardless of how we stumble along the way.”

She shuddered briefly. “Far more than Nightmare Moon, I fear what Celestia and I might have been, had we been born as a singular creature. I have studied the spell that sired us, and it was designed to create a ‘perfect’ being, or as close to perfect as can be accomplished in this gloriously imperfect world…”

Fancy paused and imagined an alicorn as powerful as Luna and Celestia combined, serenely confident and self-assured, without equal or challenger…

“I can think of one such mare,” he said softly. “She was once a Princess too… now she calls herself Queen.”

Luna shivered, and then cast her eyes heavenward. “Thank you, you wonderfully foolish mares, for saving us from what we might have been,” she sighed, before hefting the stone again.

“But do not fear. My studies of runic magic are deep and involved, and my journals are most comprehensive. They are disguised as dusty tomes in my private library, relics so fragile and dry that even Twilight Sparkle might not risk handling them, but are ensorcelled to reveal their true nature in the event of our death. Within lies the theory and practice to create new Celestial Stones to replace these in the event of their failure, or perhaps even the opportunity to craft a system to supplant them.”

“I have a further question. What would happen if these stones were to break?”

“We shouldn’t have need to much concern ourselves with that,” Luna said. “Unmaking the artifacts of my mother would require power so vast that I imagine you’d have more immediate concerns were such an event to occur. And were one or two to break, it is possible for a coalition of gifted unicorns to take their place in the matrix of the spell. The true danger is if the power of the stones were to be misdirected, but that is for neither here nor now.”

“Rest assured, we have this covered, Fancy,” Luna smiled, easing the worried look on his face. “We are not leaving you ‘in the lurch’, as I believe it is said. Now…”

She dismissed the Stone back to wherever she had summoned it from, and her expression grew… strange, at least to Fancy’s eyes. “There is a pony I wish for you to meet before we leave to Earth. She is called the Scribe.”

“Scribe… Scribe…” Fancy frowned as he contemplated the name. “I must confess, I’ve never heard of a pony called by such a name, at least not in Canterlot.”

“Scribe… well, she isn’t exactly a pony,” Luna said, waving a hoof. “At least not as you and I. Where we are flesh and blood, hormones and bio-electric synapses, she is ones and zeros, crystals and light.”

“What…” Fancy uttered, deadpan, and then he paused before leaning close, almost whispering, as if afraid of being overheard. “Are you speaking of some form of golem? Artificial bodies with minds parsed from information and naked thought? There have been rumors of such creatures appearing in the War for Earth, summoned or manifested from out of the sea of magic and thought, but I never…”

As he trailed off, Luna turned and made eye-contact. Then she slowly nodded. “Such rumours are true. At least two ‘artificial intelligences’ have arisen upon Earth, in the hinterland between science and magic, consciousness emerging unbidden from the screaming sea that is the broken minds of the Newfoals…”

She smiled sadly. “Like my sister and myself, like the thestrals and the crystal ponies, wonderful aberrations, glorious, radiant new forms of life, unanticipated and born of chance…”

Fancy felt a secret thrill, as if he was dancing on the verge of infinity. Then Luna looked him in the eye again, and he saw that infinity in the depths of her gaze.

“Faust is something else entire however. I am sorry to burden you so Fancy, but you were the pony we trusted most to first lead our country in our absence. In times such as we find ourselves, that requires that you be made privy to Equestria’s deepest secrets.”

“I… Thank you… your highness,” Fancy said quietly, falling silently into step as she led him deeper into the palace...

- - - - -

Canterlot Castle’s tea room was a marvel of Equusian architecture. The ceilings had been built as high as possible so as to accommodate the tallest races of Equus, so as to allow for dragons, minotaurs and breezies alike to sip tea together and discuss diplomacy. And yet its design carefully allowed any combination of races to make themselves comfortable in one of its discrete nooks - a low wall separating one space from another was in fact carefully shaped to form a comfortable perch for a basking dragon. Sconces carved into the walls and coffee-tables were cunning artificed to double as chairs for breezies. Decorated for centuries in styles that reflected Celestia’s signature colouration, it had recently been tastefully refurbished to reflect that Equestria now sported a triumvirate of Princesses. The arching ceilings had been repainted in midnight blue, the light fittings acting as silver stars set in twinkling constellations, with pink and purple pastels serving as a transition to the white walls trimmed in gold and bronze..

“It sounds like your meeting went well.” Celestia relished the sweet taste of her tea, ignoring Luna’s silent gagging with practiced ease. “How was Fancy?”

“He responded well to my person,” Luna tapped her chin. “You were right. He got used to us quite quickly.”

“As he should, being the experienced world traveler that he is, I’d expect nothing less of him.” Celestia gave Luna a small chuckle. “To tell you the truth, I may have been somewhat smitten with him when he was younger.”

“Yessss… Fancy did mention something to that effect,” Luna crooned. “Interesting anecdotes were shared involving a certain mare taking on the guise of Sir Fancy’s comely wife.”

Celestia blushed, and Luna gave her a subtle dig in the ribs. “You sly mare you, but why oh why did you not take advantage for a bit more ‘fun’. To have gone along with the joke as far as she did, it seems to me that the Lady Fleur would have been quite open to a menage-a-trois...”

“Luna!” Celestia squeaked. “That would be scandalous, and improper, and-”

“-t’would be three consenting ponies sharing affection with one another,” Luna interjected. “And I know for certes of your skill in the carnal arts, lest we forget the glorious harem you assembled in our first centuries of rule…”

“It… just wouldn’t have been ‘real’,” Celestia said, affecting a haughty tone, and Luna sighed. Of course Celestia craved true love, why else would she have disbanded said harem when lust and sexuality alone were not enough to sustain her. But stars above, much as Celestia desired and deserved something more than just the maternal love she gave and received with their subjects, the silly mare couldn’t bring herself to actually ‘get out there’ and commit to a mate. No doubt she’d had her fair share of one-night-stands and affectionate flings over the eons (at least, Luna hoped so, lest she have to contemplate the horror of Celestia remaining celibate for over a millennium - reduced to either a neurotic asexual or a tightly-wound bundle of repressed lust), but the Solar Princess had never taken the bold step of marriage or parenthood.

And, as so often it did, those thoughts led Luna back down the path of memories to her own past relationships. Thrice she had been married, and thrice given foal. Each had been a special stallion, and certainly she had enjoyed a fair few flings with other ponies (stallions and mares alike), relishing each chance to give and take affection.

Once, such thoughts would have left her in tears, treading over past grief. Now however, she was seeing the fruit of those relationships blooming, not just in the harmony between ponies, but in the the countless, flourishing bloodlines she had a part in founding. Cadance, true heart she, was just one of many claiming descent from her mortal foals, and Luna’s heart soared every time she took in a crowd of ponies, knowing that from statistics alone, as much as half of the population present carried in them a trace of herself: more importantly, a trace of those ponies she had loved…

Then, she looked to Celestia, who was savouring another deep draught of her tea. Having never pledged her trough or given birth, not even to slake a millennium's worth of loneliness, Celestia’s relationship with loss and mortality was, frankly, less nuanced than Luna’s, and less resilient when it came to absorbing grief . Seeing friends, peers and (perhaps) even lovers pass on was of course devastating, but how could an immortal truly come to grips with mortality unless they, in some small way, flirted with mortality through the siring of foals. Seeing one’s own children and grandchildren grow old and pass away, to bury her own flesh and weep over her own blood at countless funerals - aye, that was the path that Luna alone had walked. Yet it was only after several centuries that she came to understand this trait of her ‘older’ sister showed, this touch of emotional immaturity.

It was another important reminder that Celestia, who was by definition perceived by ponykind as perfect, was as broken and imperfect as they came, a truth that the appointment with Fancy had reinforced for Luna. Once again she thanked the six founders of Equestria for being flawed enough to ensure that the two foals born of their symbolic union were just as flawed.

And that of course begged the question. If the two of them were just as flawed, Luna in her need for validation, Celestia in her having never come to grips with the shadow beyond life, why…

‘Why was it that was I targeted by roaming, dark and feral magic?’ Luna thought quietly to herself, turning over the past like stones in a cemetery. Celestia’s inner demons were just as much a prime target for the black magic that called itself Nightmare. The Solar Princess was magically strong, but when it came to balancing light and dark, just as emotionally compromised as Luna, perhaps even moreso. Might it have appealed to Celestia’s pride, to her desire for lesser ponies to be immortal? What horrors would spring from such a union?

And yet, it didn’t take much in time or effort to answer that question either.

What had the Nightmare stood to gain, regardless of which sister it took? Simple - the infliction of pain, and the sundering of faith. Broken bonds and broken hearts. But there was something else at play.

Luna would no doubt have stopped Celestia had the Solar Regent fallen to Nightmare; much as it pained her and maimed her soul, she she would have cast Celestia aside to save their ponies, bourne her grief, and remained strong until Celestia retur--

She paused in her analysis. That was it. She would have lived with her grief and moved on, continued taking husbands, mayhaps even brides, living in and as part of Equestria, watching her descendants flourish and grow.

She would have owned the grief, and not let it own her. Celestia on the other hoof was alone, struggling to deal with a pain she didn’t fully understand, with no one to share her burden, and so removed from her subjects that none might perceive her misery, let alone try and console her. It was an attempt to break the alicorn and send Equestria on a downward spiral.

Luna was both the threat to that had to be removed to bring about that fall, and the tool, pawn and vehicle by which it might be accomplished.

Nightmare knew their weakness, and how best to exploit them, a realisation which left Luna feeling ill. And yet she also felt pride, because in her own way, Celestia had defied the dark spirit by taking on a succession of students, creating a surrogate family in which she might find respite.

But the Nightmare had not left Luna unscathed either, even after the Elements purged it from her very being. She was aware that certain… traits she had exhibited under the Nightmare’s influence lingered, subtle ghosts in the machine of her mind that magnified old bad habits. She continued to crave attention and validation, hard as it was to reconnect with modern society. It was maddening and crushing at the same time, though she was glad to have finally, albeit thanks to the War for Earth, come to peace with herself, part in thanks to Discord’s gentle prodding and ribbing.

It was strange to have a big brother looking out for Celestia and herself, stranger still given the enmity that had existed between them and Discord for so long. Another unexpected, yet not unwelcome fruit borne from this accursed war. And perhaps a fresh, human perspective might shed a curing light on this dysfunctional little family.

To live in modern times was certainly exciting and adventurous. Dangerous, too...

“Oh dear me, no.” Celestia gave a small giggle. “As handsome as Fancy is, I dare not intrude myself when he was with Fleur at the time. I am not some harlot.”

“But you are a Princess, surely Fleur would understand this.” Luna said in a bored tone, but her eyes held much mischievous light. “I wager she would be oer’joyed were you to create a herd with him, for so long as she was allowed to share in it. Why, such a happy union would make her our sister and kin, and her foals royal half-siblings!”

Celestia, in a moment of shock, spat her tea over the rim of her cup. Luna, laughing her head off on the inside, continued onwards. “Indeed, I have checked the records of law, and while our ponies have outlawed polygamy, they were never so prudish as to repeal thy Royal Prerogative to take multiple spouses...”

“Oh! To come home to a nephew or niece would be marvelous!” Luna clapped her hooves in joy. “Most certainly Cadance would be overjoyed to foalsit once more. And we would shower them with gifts, perhaps a pet! Oh, we believe a possum would be a good pet! Yes! And he shall be called Tiberius! Tibbers for short!”

“Luna, no.” Celestia gave her a look of disapproval. “I will not allow my foal to have a pet possum.”

“Oh, then thou has consented to sire a dynasty. Well done sister, who is the father?”

“I was speaking solely in the abstract, Luna,” Celestia growled, massaging her forehead with one wing. “I am not with foal…”

“Very well, then,” Luna continued in her teasing. “What pet is good by your terms, Miss Phoenix?”

“Easy, a Neighponese fox-spirit,” Celestia replied without pause, which Luna took as a minor triumph: clearly her sister had at least given some thought to a potential child. “They’re intelligent, adorable as kits and long-lived enough that they’d remain a close companion for many centuries.”

She smirked. “Plus, they’re shapeshifters that can disguise themselves as mares. Any foal of mine is going to have a pet capable of making just as much mischief as Philomena and myself get up to…”

Luna smiled, but affected a sad shaking of her head. “A kitsune? Really? As if an example of Vulpes deitas could ever compare to a possum as a pet!”

“Oh, what admirable traits does Trichosurus velpecula possess, beyond an ability to play dead?”

“The fact that it would get completely up your nose!” Luna decried, jabbing a hoof at Celestia, prompting a sudden silence that suddenly dissolved into fits of giggles at the absurdity of the entire conversation.

At last their laughter died down, and Celestia glanced down at her empty teacup, sighing as she did. “Speaking of nephews…”

“Oh?” Luna hummed as she levitated over the teapot and poured her sister a fresh cup, subtly trying to keep her from dousing it in milk and sugar, as was her wont.

“I had a meeting of my own today with Discord,” Celestia said, words now tinged with a quiet melancholy. “Hence why I was unable to join your for the appointment with Fancy, for which you have my apologies.”

“Think nothing of it sister,” Luna said, tilting her head and letting her worry show. She pondered the choice of words that had prompted Celestia’s sudden change of mood, and let out a sigh of her own. “Didst this meeting with Discord perchance involve the subject of Blueblood?”

“Yes. I’ve been feeling somewhat ashamed of how I handled his tactlessness.”

Petrification. Luna brooded on that for a moment. In truth she had no qualm with the doom Celestia had bestowed upon the Prince. As a matter-of-fact, she had never liked the spoiled colt and the supposed superiority he lorded over everypony else, seeing him as a lamentable blot upon the tapestry of ponies descended from her first marriage, a happy union with Princess Platinum’s twice-removed grandson. However, much as she wished otherwise, she had been forced to accept that he was both the legitimate claimant to the Platinum Crown and her great-great-something-grandson through several male and female lines, after lengthy cross-examination of a family tree long enough to three feet thick when rolled up.

“Sister…” Celestia gave another tired sigh, clearing seeing the coolness that had come over Luna. “Blueblood’s actions are not his own, but the result of malign outside influence.”

“What?!” Luna slammed her hoof on the table, her eyes blazing. “We find it hard to believe that even the most depraved of evil entities would behoove themselves so low as to dabble with that… that… colt!”

Celestia shook her head, a grim smile sliding across her face. “Posession by some dark spirit might be a preferable excuse for the mistakes of his life. But the truth is that Blueblood was quite a sweet young colt in his youth. His subsequent souring was more nurture than nature, the result of a lingering rot in Canterlot society that I never could quite purge, thanks to politics and the covenants we swore when we superceded the Unicorn royal line… Blueblood’s failings are the result of over a thousand years of neglect and ignorance, and for that I must accept responsibility.”

“Yes,” admitted Celestia, gazing mournfully out the nearest window. “A debt that accumulated over near thirty generations, and all I did was sit back and let it happen.”

- - - - -

“This was so much easier when I had my three-tone mane,” Celestia huffed as brushed out her flowing pink mane. “That styled itself whichever way I willed it.”

Well, at least she could try something new. Slowly, awkwardly treading through the steps, she telekinetically tied her mane up in an elegantly twisted braid…

...which held itself together for all of five seconds before her mane, which regardless of its colour-change was still saturated in magic, burst free and spread out around her head like a dandelion clock. Grumbling obscenely, Celestia retreated to ‘Step 1’ and once again began to brush it out straight.

Still, she couldn’t help but smile at the reflection in her bedroom mirror. It was a pleasant change to have gotten a reminder of her youth back, even if she’d had to take a refresher course from Cadance on the particulars of proper manecare.

The brush suddenly got itself knotted in something, and cursing to herself, Celestia applied a greater measure of her strength to the grip of the brush…

...but instead of straightening out a particularly stubborn tangle, she found a tiny Discord tangled up in the tines of the brush.

“You’ve got it easy,” he teased, clearly loving her frustration. “Think of what Luna went through when her mane was transitioning back to its magical state. You try running a comb through a tangle of nebulas and constellations sometime. Imagine how hard it was for her to brush her mane without causing supernovas with every stroke?”

Pulling him free from the brush with her magic, Celestia returned a smirk of her own as she planted the miniaturised Discord on her dresser and set a pretty little bow on his head. “Funny, I am thinking of washing my mane to rid of this chaotic mess.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s quite necessary,” Discord responded as he grabbed the bow, clenched it in his lion’s paw, and released his grip to reveal a large sunflower, which he placed above himself. “I say it’s a good blend of order and chaos. Isn’t that an example of the ‘True Harmony’ you’re always chasing after?.”

Celestia grinned as she returned to brushing her mane out, whatever Discord had done to it was clearly having an effect, and now it was as sleek and glossy as if she had just come from a salon.

“I say we still need something to offset all that pink,” he observed, strutting across the dresser with a fist cupped under his chin. “Perhaps little balls of light should drift out occasionally. Or maybe a scent of desert winds over in Saddle Arabia to catch the attention of ponies...”

He snapped his fingers. “Fire! That’s it! You’re the Princess of the Sun, so your mane should be permanently ON FIRE!”

“I’m pretty sure my Chief of Staff would deem that a safety hazard, now off with you, silly,” Celestia laughed and gently shoved him away with her hoof, shaking her head in amusement as she finished her primping and made for the door. “Luna and myself are vetting Fancy Pants for the position of PM, and I’m going to be late if I tarry any further.”

“Oh, really?” Discord said, producing a tiny clipboard and examining it through a pair of pince-nez glasses. ‘10am, meet with my favorite stallion in the whole world, and show him off to Luna.”

He beckoned, and the chamber door closed itself before Celestia could take her leave. Suddenly full-sized, her snaked between her legs and rose up to look her in the eye. “Trust me on this when I say Luna has things well in hoof…”

Celestia blinked, and her own expression turned serious. “You’re never one to dance around the subject Discord. If there’s something on your mind that needs my attention, just say.”

“Oh I could dance, if you want me to.” Discord leapt off the dresser, donning a sombrero and performing a little jig, prompting a small smirk from the Princess.

“Amusing as this may be Discord, what’s gotten you so worked up?” Celestia tilted her head interrogatively.

“Well, might as well get this over with.” Grimacing, Discord broke off his dance, and laid the room bare with a snap of his fingers, metal plates sealing over every surface, door and window, creating a soundproof space in which they could speak freely.

“I was trying determine what to do with the Blueblood issue,” Discord said tersely. “You seemed pretty clear about ensuring he not leave any form of legacy on Equestria. So I considered leaving him permanently trapped in stone, or setting up a spell that would free him in a couple of decades, rigged to leave him infertile. You know, the works. Would that satisfy this uncharacteristic little revenge-fantasy of yours?”

“I care not what you do to that stallion, nor his lineage!” Having scowled at the mere mention of Blueblood’s name, Celestia practically spat the words out, making the full fury behind her judgement known. “I’ve been lied to for centuries by his entire family, so for all I care he can be the end of the whole accursed line.”

“Oh don’t be like that, Celestia.” Discord soothed, holding up his paws to list some points off. “I mean, what hurt have they done you?”

“Lying to the crown counts as an act of perjury, Discord, and they’ve been misleading me for generations…”

“Right, so we’ve got ‘wounded pride’ as your main complaint,” Discord said, affecting a stern tone. “And your frustrations at having to deal with their warped politics and petty concerns. So let’s add ‘whining’ to their rap sheet.”

“Day in and day out. Week after week. Month after month. Year after year…” she seethed.

“A capital offence indeed, no wonder you imprisoned the last of a ‘noble house’ to indefinite detention, as is your right of course as Pretty Pony Princess Prime-”

Still rolling into a haranguing monologue, Discord trailed off into shocked silence after directing a brief glance in her direction. Celestia wasn’t sure how much her anger was showing, but she did know that she was gritting her teeth together, and that her mane was very itchy, as if it was about to take up Discord’s suggestion of bursting into flame. “Um….”

“Anything. Else?” she growled out, and she saw him wincing at the sheer ice in her tone. Oh, poets might compare her to the sun, but it was moments like this that reminded ponies that the sun was an intrinsic part of the vacuum, the absolute zero of space.

It took him a few seconds of panicked sweating to reclaim his composure, but when Discord did continue, it was with equal frostiness in his tone. Ice might have formed from the sheer chill the two of them radiated.

"Well, here's the thing, Celly,” he drawled. “You know how his ancestor was the one who committed most of 'my' crimes?"

"Let’s be blunt kid sister, that pony’s kinda dead. Dusty dead, too - I'd show you, but I get the feeling the palace cleaners wouldn't appreciate my desecrating the carpet with what’s left of him."

"Often, when he was a foal. His mother worked in the palace, and he moved in the same circles as Cadance, so I became very close to the two of them… that was years before her ascension brought Cadance into my immediate family of cour-”

"…no,” Celestia admitted. “After his mother passed away his father claimed sole custody, and then after that…"

"His father, that’s interesting. Might I guess that he showed the same behavioral foal/stallion disconnect?”

"Did you really expect Blueblood's father to have taught him respect for other ponies? After - what, nine hundred years of Bluebloods’ being taught they're better by virtue of blood, through a succession of fathers who all got indoctrinated into the same family cult?"

"… perhaps not, but what would you expect of me Discord? Take the children of the ‘ignoble’ houses away and raise them ‘right’. Oh yes, I can see the papers responding well to that. ‘Princess Abducts Foals: Claims It’s For The Greater Good’.”

“What I expect Celestia, is for you to stop trying to get revenge on a long-dead stallion by victimising his descendant. Do you know what happens to rich kids when nobody teaches them what's right? They become… how do I put this… they start doing what they want. Because they can, and nobody's stopping me. Them. Oops, Freudian slip there."

Celestia raised an eyebrow. Slip or not, Discord’s emphasis on the last part of that statement had been too heavy for mere coincidence.

“Yeah, just mull on it a little,” he said, rotating his hands like a tumble-drier. Celestia frowned at him, and then relaxed her posture, sinking back on a haunches with a sigh.

"I can’t believe, that of all ponies you’d be the one to defend Blueblood."

"Well, it depends on which Blueblood you're talking about," Discord shrugged. "Cadance’s playmate of yesteryear, the opportunistic little squit he grew into, or the egg-whose-quality-is-indeterminate of today?"

Celestia’s wings flared, an instinctive response to an open challenge. "Are you telling me that I judged him too harshly?"

"I dunno, Celly dearest," Discord snarked back. "You've had time to think, calm down, get the 'annihilating topography' stage out of your system, I hope. Sort of. Get calm and ask yourself this. What do you think about your judgement?"

Celestia thought on it for a second. Then she remembered what she had witnessed of the Tyrant inside of Marcus’s mind, recounted what Luna had told her of the experiments, of the harsh punishments, of the recordings of Lyra’s final speech.

‘I am not that creature,’ she said to herself. A moment later an image of herself becoming Queen Celestia, a nasty smirk on her face, briefly flashed through her mind. ‘I will never become that.‘

‘I’m not her… she repeated weakly, and this time the memory that flashed to the forefront of her mind was that of Queen Metaxis and her changelings grovelling for mercy, offering up their sovereignty in exchange for aid. She and Luna had judged them undeserving on that day, and just look at the consequences of that foolish decision.

“Yes,” she said. “I was overly harsh. He caught me at a bad time, pushed all of my buttons, but idiocy and tactlessness is no excuse for petrifaction.”

She smiled wanly and held out her hoof. “Come on then, I’ve got a rough idea as to where this is going.”

Chuckling, Discord floated close to her, hooked an arm around her neck and flowing mane, and snapped his fingers. The two of them vanished in a flash of light.

- - - - -

“So, indulge my fancy,” continued Celestia as they teleported into the garden, the air of which was humid and heavy, portents of the approaching weather front. “Why the sudden interest in Blueblood?”

“Well, it could be said that I have a vested interest in ‘reforming’ troubled individuals, but mostly because I delved into his mind when you asked me to oversee his ‘internment’,” Discord responded, as they two of them headed towards the heart of the hedge maze. “Now, my usual tactic would be to skim his memories and devise a few choice nightmares to occupy his time with, along with possibly some surrealist essays, but after I got a sampling of his formative experiences I decided to dig a little deeper.”

He glanced forward as they reached the centre of the maze. “And here we are.”

Celestia looked, and felt a frisson of horror. Blueblood’s statue stood on a low plinth that put his face right at her own eye level. The terrified look in his frozen eyes wounded her deeply. It was something she had seen once before, in the moment of Luna’s transformation into Nightmare Moon, and she felt the same shame wash over her at once again having hurt her family.

Despite the tainted glut of memories the spoiled stallion-colt inspired, a part of her still remembered the clumsy colt in an uncomfortable tuxedo who had been introduced to her at Cadance’s cutecenera. When the other adults backs were turned, the three of them had snuck off to play hide-and-seek in the gardens...

“He still thinks of you as Auntie Celestia, did you know that?” Discord put in, his contribution not assuaging her guilt at all. “I thought it was so odd that this stuck up unicorn thinks of you as family.”

He snuck her a suggestive look, “You know, at one point I thought you were considering him as a prospective mate. Heaven knows Luna’s been prodding your thoughts in that direction, and he’s not that closely related to you.”

“Oh heavens no,” Celestia blanched, briefly having to hold back an urge to retch; their individual blemishes notwithstanding, the whole of Blueblood’s male lineage had at some point attempted to court her, no doubt seeing her as some trophy wife, a stepping-stone by which they might reclaim the unicorn throne from the days before the Winter of the Windigos. “I could never think of Blueblood in such a way.”

“Good, because he thinks the same.” Discord commented, causing her head to snap to him.

“His father, Azure Haven, tried to teach him how to charm a mare from far too young an age,” Discord said, staring at the statue. “It was of course a failure, Blueblood having all the charm of a dead fish after Azure had finished instilling the values of ‘true’ nobility in him, but Daddy dearest was able to teach him how to woo companions into bed with him, and so Azure devised a scheme...”

He left the sentence hanging, leaving her to come to the conclusion alone. Celestia blinked a few times, and then went sheet white.

“Yes indeed,” Discord hissed. “In his messed-up view of things, the only way to get his bloodline to the top of the heap was to have Blueblood get you ‘in the family way’, and then suggest a marriage so as to avoid a scandal when you began showing a bump.”

“That inbred, selfish, deluded, BEAST! Did he actually think I was some hormone-addled schoolfilly who’d heft her tail for the first stallion to bat his eyes at her! Of all the wrong-headed, ignorant, VULGAR nonsense!”

It was at that point that the storm broke. Lightning flashed across the clouded skies in tune with her words, sheets of white fury serving to punctuate her roared syllables. Pausing briefly, Celestia took a deep, snorting breath, and flapped her wings with enough force to flatten the maze within a hundred yards.

“Didn’t he READ his history! I took SCORES of lovers before I’d turned a thousand! Didn’t he wonder why I wasn’t putting wedding rings on them! Contraceptive Spells are taught at every High School! I should know, I INVENTED THEM!”

That final bellow seemed to vent the last of her steam, and she relaxed into silence. Discord’s next works shattered that momentary peace.

“Azure actually invested a considerable amount of bits seeking out mages who could find a way around those spells… his backup plan if they didn’t work was to have Blueblood target one of the mares closest to you…”

Celestia screamed, a wordless expression of raw, seething fury, eyes blazing with all the rage of an exploding star. Targeting her was one thing, but playing that kind of stunt with the mares who had become her surrogate family was beyond the pale. It was almost certainly a kindness for Azure that he’d been dead six months.

This time the hedge maze caught fire, set ablaze by multiple bolts of lightning that lanced down as if summoned by her wrath, which well they might have been. The multiple flashes and sudden heat on her brow was enough to snap Celestia back to reality, breathing heavily but forcing herself to get a handle on her rage. To feel fury over a righteous cause was one thing, but she could never allow herself to be owned by that wroth, too much depended on her to not give into those passions.

“And you should also know, that Blueblood wouldn’t have any part of it…” Discord added softly.

She looked up, the crackling flames reflecting off both of them, reflecting in their eyes.

“From some of the memories I saw in Blueblood,” Discord said softly as he called down one of the gathering rainclouds. “He’d had these lessons drilled into him since the day he came into Azure’s care. Really makes me wonder how much time he actually had to be a son rather than a tool. But eventually he’d had enough - he cared enough about you to know that what his father wanted would have hurt you deeply - and so eventually he left the family estate and took up residence in Canterlot. You know how the rest of his life played out.”

Silently, Celestia took the raincloud off of him. Springing into the air, she spent a few seconds getting in touch with her inner pegasus as she guided it over the burning maze, carefully dousing the flames.

As she did, she brooded. Just as much as she loathed his intentions towards herself or her surrogate daughters, she felt physically ill at the thought that Azure Haven had seen his own son as nothing but a tool by which to obtain some perceived glory. She wouldn’t say she’d been happy that the fool had gotten himself killed while drunk at the helm of an airship, but then, she hadn’t exactly been saddened by it either. Now, she was glad that the old beast was removed from the face of her kingdom, and she suspected she was not alone.

In light of what Discord had shared with her, one would almost see Blueblood’s hoof at play in his father’s death, but evidence suggested otherwise. It had been at a Canterlot Supremacist Alliance political gala, which Azure had hosted at his estate by virtue of being the party leader. Dozens of eyewitnesses had testified to seeing their ‘political champion’ drunkenly stumble to the helm of his private yacht, shove the licensed pilot over the gunwale, and attempt to make the pleasure-craft perform a loop-de-loop, only to cause the airbag to shear off from the exerted torque, dropping the rest of the yacht, and its owner, straight onto the central wing of his own mansion. It was clear that Blueblood had nothing to do with that.

“What have you been focusing so much attention on Blueblood?” she asked as she landed, prompting a questioning look from Discord. “Why are you doing this?”

“Other than causing a bit of a headache for you?” he answered with a bit of smirk, face softening somewhat when one looked closer “Mostly because you were hurting, and were coming close to making decisions that would hurt you ever more once you sobered up from your rage-a-hol binge.”

“It was a good decision. We know what’d happen. I… I wanted to be furious at him, but it now seems so petty of me to do so,” Celestia grumbled under her breath. “I always turned a blind eye to his family, never doubted the lie that was the foundation of their influence. But Blueblood was different, I knew him as a foal, saw that he was capable of building powerful friendships and drawing strength from them. I was so happy when he came back to Canterlot as a stallion, but when I saw what he’d become...”

She shook her head, laying down on the grass. “He and his mother were a radiant pair, always friendly and smiling. She deserved better than Azure, but he gave her a wonderful sun.”

She rubbed her eyes, feeling the tears threaten to leak out. “He was such a bright colt, always trying his utmost to please me. The day he got his cutie mark was when he was allowed to pilot my yacht back to Canterlot. He was… so happy when he realized what had happened, but he really was a natural at flying a ship, something that surprised us all greatly. Most of the family line is based in politics, so seeing Blueblood gain a cutie mark grounded in another skillset made me so happy.”

- - - - -

“What about ponies of his own age?” Discord floated upside down, his expression contemplative. This was a side of his ‘sister’ he’d rarely paid witness too.

“He was actually scared of Cadance, when they first met at her cutecenera.” Celestia let out a small giggle. “Both of them were terrified of one another; Blueblood not wanting to make Cadance angry at him and Cadance not wanting to make herself look like a fool in front of Blueblood. They were acting so little like children, that I whispered word to their parents and snuck off to play with them. We played hide-and-seek in this very maze.”

He saw her smile fondly. “I’d not been so close to children since I helped take care of Luna’s third set of foals... after that night, I was always finding excuses to invite the two of them over to play. Blueblood’s mother said I really must be his aunt, since I did so much to help raise him.”

She smiled at the memory, and then buried her face in her hooves, trembling with emotion. While her eyes were averted, Discord grinned and waved his paw at the statue that had been at the heart of their discussions.

There was no cracking, no shattering or dramatic pyrotechnics. Stone simply melted away into flesh and fur, the stallion took in a silent gasp of air as he returned to the land of the living. Frozen in the act of trying to escape his aunt’s wrath, his first instinctive action was to continue backpeddling, only for him to try and catch himself as his thoughts caught up to his limbs. It failed, and he tipped backwards off the plinth and into the embrace of Discord’s magic. Looking around in panicked confusion, he saw the Spirit of Chaos towering above him and opened his mouth to speak, or maybe to scream. Before he could so much as draw breath however, Discord raised his finger to his mouth and spun him around in mid-air, pointing him towards Celestia.

- - - - -

“I ended up being a sort of part-time foalsitter, perhaps that’s where Cadance got the inspiration to go ‘into the business’…” Celestia continued to reminisce. “Suddenly I was buying board games and toys, getting to actually laugh and play with foals who wore their emotions on their sleeves, and not grown adults who hid everything they felt behind politics. Sunset, Twilight and Spike came later on, perhaps because I’d gotten so used to having Canterlot Castle filled with the laughter of foals. I… I was so devastated when Blueblood was sent off to live with Azure, not just because I thought he was a break from his family’s sordid past, but because I loved that little colt”

Celestia’s head snapped up, her eyes widening with shock to see Blueblood standing before her.

‘He looks so tired, so… broken,’ she thought, and again came the guilt. ‘I did this to him.’

“Blueblood….” She mouthed voicelessly, before directing a demandingly raised eyebrow at an unrepentant Discord.

“Trust me, you two need this,” Discord said warmly. Then he blinked, his ears twitching and a flush of concern appeared on his face. “While you do that bonding thing, I have to run, Major Buzzcut has a bit of a situation that he needs me to fix up.”

He vanished with a loud pop, leaving the two of them alone in the maze. Celestia swallowing, seeing Blueblood look away from her - his aunt by blood and love - in utter shame. She felt, in a word, frazzled, and just as unsure as he was.

“Auntie… I… my entire family is a stain against your name,” Blueblood whispered. Celestia’s ears perked. “I am nothing more than a burden upon you. I don’t deserve the recognition I have, nor do I deserve to be called a pony, let alone a Prince.”

“Discord came to me while I slept. I think he intended to torment me in my dreams...” Blueblood said, craning around, though Celestia was not sure if he was unable to make contact with her eyes, or if he was revelling in the sights and sounds around him. “Instead he came upon me dreaming of the first time I met you, at Cadance’s cutecenera…”

He flicked his eyes down, making brief contact with hers. “Is Cadance well?”

Celestia nodded, saw his mouth purse in a ghost of a smile, before staring away again into the distance. “Well, he observed what we shared in, recognised the dream for what it was, and began to pry deeper into my memories of my time in Canterlot, and the time we spent together.”

Blueblood look to the sky, taking a deep breath as he stared up at the clouds. “I began to remember all that I’d forgotten, hidden behind all the… the…”

”I don’t know,” Blueblood admitted. He gave a bitter laugh, finally looking her in the eye. The both of them were crying. “It took me years to understand why he fought so hard for custody when mother died. He didn’t care about me, he only wanted a vessel to carry the bloodline - I was a failure to him, and all he saw in me were his ‘royal grandchildren’. I was a status symbol, a honey-trap. A… tool. I wasn’t a colt, just a means to an end.”

Celestia listened in silence as Blueblood spoke. Thunder rumbled softly in the distance, a faint echo of the fury she had pulled from the storm. Then with a gentle susurration, a warm rain began to fall soft on the ground, the raindrops cascading down their faces to mingle with their tears.

“He never told me he loved me, you know,” Blueblood said softly, his words barely rising over the hiss of rain upon grass. “I never felt the warmth of a hug or even so much as a sign of his approval. He…” he laughed softly. “He taught me to be uncaring. Not in so many words, you understand. He taught me that the concerns of the poor were beneath us. That friends were only good for what they could give you, that they’d stab you in the back the minute they got the chance, so you had to act before them - slide the blade in first. And he… he surrounded himself with ponies that made him seem right.”

An echo-chamber of parroting yes-mares and stallions. What a place in which to raise an emotionally volatile adolescent.

“I’m what?” he said softly. “I’m a bastard. Not in the illegitimate sense, but I would’ve been happier if that had happened and I had been raised to be my mother’s son and nothing but. But I am my father’s son, and to become that I was taught to be a bastard, because in his eyes the whole world was bastardised, had been ever since ‘Platinum signed away our rights as the superior species of pony…’ All that mattered to my father was ‘setting right the natural order’, getting back ‘what was ours’, and he taught me that the world contains only two kinds of ponies: those who want, and those who took. Nothing else mattered.”

He laughed again, a bitter, twisted sound. “He got what he wanted from me, didn’t he? I was the prime example of the uncaring aristocrat. Take what I need, ignore those who needed.”

“I was raised by my mother and by you for ten years of my life!” Blueblood snapped. “You… you were more of a parent figure than my father ever was! You were there for my first successful spell! You were there when I gained my cutie mark! My first Gala event! You… you cared...”

As the rain poured down he pounded his hooves against his brow. “I had it all! I had family and friends - Cadance, my cousin by distant blood but my sister in all but name! And when I returned to Canterlot, all I could see when I looked at her was the Target my father had painted her as…”

He slumped back on his haunches, looking utterly defeated. “Even though I rejected him, I still became him. All I’ve ended up doing is being what he wanted. Uncaring. Cruel, even. I feel so… so… empty.”

There was a long pause as this sank in. Blueblood sank down, the rain slicking his mane against his skull as he gazed into the mud.

“I’m sorry for what I did,” Celestia said. “As much as you can, please-”

“Just say it,” Blueblood sighed, tired enough that he might have been trying to snap at her. “That I’m a spoiled, rotten stallion with less maturity than some foals.”

His head flicked up, scattering water droplets. “You! Auntie - I’m the one who craves forgiveness. I was a beast, a backsliding coward, bully, cad and thief!”

“If that was enough to petrify one of my little ponies,” Celestia said, “then all the schoolyard bullies in our land would be replaced with a new crop of statuary.”

She rose and crossed to kneel beside him, draping a wing over his shoulders. “In the Equestria we now make war against, ponies have been petrified for much less. In ours, it takes far worse. I was angry, I’d been through too much, and I lashed out with a punishment reserved for our most grievous offenders…”

“We were both at fault, admit that much,” Celestia smiled wanly, giving him what she hoped was a playful bump. “Blueblood. I cannot pretend that you have… that you… that I am not best inclined to think favourably of you. Many years of your… behavior, learned or not… does not simply disappear.”

“No,” Blueblood said quietly. It was now impossible to see where his tears ended and the rain began. “No, it doesn’t, does it?”

“But,” Celestia said, “it seems to me as though there is a question that you have not been asked - not been really asked… in a very long time.” She took a breath. “What do you want, Prince Blueblood?”

“Yes,” Celestia said softly. “What do you want? Not as a Prince, or an aristocrat with lands and titles and accounts to think of but as a pony. A stallion. What do you want from your life, right now?”

Blueblood blinked, as though he had never expected to be asked this question. Celestia realised that this was an unexpected development from him. Many ponies focused on what they wanted from him, even romantically-minded mares such as the lovely Rarity saw him simply as a ‘catch’ and not as a stallion in his own right. And of course, as an aristocrat there were things he had been taught to want and value… but beneath that, what did he want, for himself?

“I want,” he said, speaking very quietly, “to… to be somewhere with real ponies, not the fake ponies my father surrounded us with. Somewhere where… where who I am… who I was made to be… doesn’t mean a thing.” He paused. “Is it really as bad as I’ve heard it is? In the other Equestria and in the human’s world?”

“Then I want to make up for how I’ve been,” Blueblood said. “Discord told me about it after I asked about my guards getting redistributed. I can do both, maybe, serve in one of these pony/human companies, such as the Dragons or the Vanhoover group. Being as I am, that will… almost…” he trailed off and shrugged. “Well, it will be the closest thing like being normal.”

He pushed himself up. “But before I left, if at all, is there any duties I might perform in service to Equestria? What of my father’s political dunces?”

“The Canterlot Supremacist Alliance? They’ve been effectively neutered since your father tried his hoof at outflying the Wonderbolts.“

His mouth twitched in what might have been a grimace or a smile. “Still, how demoralising might it be to have Azure Haven’s own son denounce his dear old father’s party?”

“What a political tragedy that might be,” Celestia cooed, staring absently up at the skies. “Oh my yes. But first…” she rose and helped him to his hooves. “Let’s get out of the rain, and make you familiar with your quarters once again. Even if you’re resolved to go off to war, you’ll need a home to come back to.”

“Thank you, Auntie,” he said, before awkwardly hugging her with a forehoof. Momentarily frozen in panic, Celestia relaxed and returned the embrace. Then, with one wing held over her own head to keep off the worst of the rain (the other held over his), she led him out of the blasted maze.

“One more thing, Aunt Celestia,” Blueblood asked as they negotiated their way through the charred stumps.

- - - - -

“His ship?” Luna parroted, blinking at the question. “Why was he worried about a ship?”

“It’s named ‘Platinum’, and it is perhaps the one thing that is truly ‘his’,” Celestia explained. “We knew he loved to pilot airships, ever since his cutie-mark manifested himself, and since then he aspired to own his own yacht. On his 14th birthday he announced that he had gifted himself with ‘a boat’...”

“I fail to see the humor,” Luna said, though Celestia’s smile being as infectious as it was, she couldn’t hide a small grin of her own.

“Blueblood had gone down to the slipways on the side of the Canterhorn to see the sloops being launched. He then discovered the breakers yard next-door, and fell in love with a gutted hulk that was apparently only good for scrap. The yard owner wanted rid of it, and Blueblood had somehow managed to siphon enough funds off of his trust fund to buy it, making him the proud owner of a wreck that would not even float, let alone fly.”

“Oh yes,” Celestia nodded. “As it turns out, Blueblood’s old junker ‘Platinum’ was actually a racing yacht.”

She drained the last of the tea, peering into the bottom of the cup as if trying to divine from the tea leaves. “He’s been constantly updating, working on, and fixing it up ever since, and the results are impressive. He managed to fit the lifting-bag entirely within the hull, so as to minimise air resistance, and fitted it with high-pressure steam turbines to drive the impellers. He raced it at a charity event about a year before your return, and I was amazed to see it outpace the Wonderbolts in a sprint. It’s probably the fastest yacht in the entire world. So yes, if there is one thing he cared about more than himself, it was his ship.”

“Well, from how much he was bragging, I gather ’Platinum’ can make it to the Crystal Mountains and back in less time than it takes the average pegasus to make the round trip.” Celestia answered, not without some pride.

“That is swift indeed!” Luna whispered. “It seems comparable even to the scientific miracles mankind has worked.”

“Funny you should say that, because it no longer resembles a traditional Equestrian airship, and in fact seems to hold more in common with humanity’s aeroplanes.”

Celestia paused to summon another cup of tea. “While he was stoned, I actually requested the humans send an engineer to vet ‘Platinum’s’ design. A two-man team from Boeing and Lockheed duly arrived, and within three hours were dancing with joy at Blueblood having pioneered…” she paused and recited from memory, “bridging the gap between fixed-wing and lighter-than-air flight. The strengths of both and the failings of neither, made possible through the fusion of science and magic. There’s a pony engineer named Snowshoes who’s taken equal inspiration from his work.”

She leaned over the table and winked. “Between you and me however Lulu, I’m not surprised.”

“Because he has been personally funding the field of aeronautics ever since he was of age. All airships laid down in the past five years have some form of Blueblood’s touch upon them, from the humblest yacht up to the mighty Great Equestrian that Kreme-Brulee is trying to finance... better engines, improved hull-forms, the works. He even consulted with the shipping lines to refine operational protocol and ship-handling techniques,” Celestia exposited, now not even trying to hide her pride. “For all of the monstrous faults trained into him, he’s done all he could to help those ponies not blessed with wings to reach the skies with their own hooves.”

“Art thou sure his motives were pure, and not merely made for his own gain?” Luna quizzed, to which Celestia shrugged.

“You and I both know that far too many ponies obsess over the motive behind a deed, rather than the actual benefits it brings. Regardless of whether or not he did it for himself, Blueblood’s contributions have broadened Equestria’s economy, horizons, and dreams.”

“Yes, he wishes to fight,” Celestia shook her head, a regretful tone in her voice. “Not back more than a few hours and he’s already making contact with the EUP/UN liaison office. Regardless of his past desires, he seems to be genuine in pursuing this end. And he plans to take his beloved ‘Platinum’ into battle with him.”

“I see,” Luna blinked at this glut of information. It was shocking to say the least, to find that Blueblood was not only doing what he could to make amends, but was secretly a socially inept engineering savant. In truth, she felt a little regret that she had previously dismissed him so out of hand. Perhaps her intervention might have prevented this family dispute...

Thoughts of family drew her mind back to their ‘big brother’. “What of Discord’s abrupt departure? Where did he run off to? I would think he’d remain to see this happy reunion play out.”

“You know, I think he has a touch more tact than we expected, but he seemed to genuinely be responding to situation where he was needed,” Celestia frowned, tapping her chin in thought. “He said he was helping out ‘Buzzcut’…”

“Well, there are two people on this world to fit the description of Buzzcut, or at least whom Discord has a degree of friendship with,” Celestia answered, puckish amusement showing in her smile. “I suspect either the good Colonel Renee or Major Bauer may have gotten his attention.”

“Perhaps Bauer in this regard,” Luna waved her hoof, “Discord seems to take great joy in irritating our Knightly soldier whenever possible, right to the point that Herr Bauer starts reaching for his blade...”

“Well, we both know how Discord loves to live dangerously,” Celestia drolled plainly, prompting giggles from Luna.

“Princesses!” came a voice from the door, accompanied by a frantic knocking. “I bring urgent news.”

“Fancy?” Luna blinked as she hauled open the door to reveal said stallion in the company of his proto-cabinet and a Thestral Guard. Seeing their serious expressions the Night Princess immediately assumed the air of command. “Make your report.”

“Ma’am!” saluted the Thestral. “News from our human allies. Major Bauer has been foalnapped in the vicinity of Ponyville.”

“WHAT?!” Celestia exclaimed. Fancy’s monocle was blown off and his suit rumpled by the shout. The Guard barely flinched, even as his helmet was blown off his head.

“Ma’am, we know they were ponies, though we can’t ignore that there may be humans working in conjunction with them. They flew no colours or ensign from initial reports, and their motives, goals and affiliation remain unknown.”

“The PHL is responding to the situation as we speak,” stepped in Fancy, trading fragmented reports with Stormy Flare, the middle-aged mare tipped to be his Minister of War, a pegasus who was very much the image of her Wonderbolt daughter, Spitfire. “They have the Major’s position and are sending a team to extract him as we speak.”

Stormy Flare stepped forward, pressing a hoof to a small radio headset she wore. “They’ve confirmed they will liaise with Equestrian law enforcement in an attempt to capture the criminals without violence, but if push comes to shove they will use lethal force to resolve the situation.”

“I took the step of authorising the EUP to mobilise on our way over,” put in Fancy, clearly following the maxim that it was better to beg forgiveness than ask permission. “We may not have fully assembled the cabinet, but the major party leaders have agreed to a wartime suspension of campaign politics. Your Government of National Unity stands ready to serve, Princesses.”

Luna shared a brief glance with Celestia, who motioned for her to speak. “Understood, we approve of and laud your prompt action. Lady Flare, direct the EUP to assemble an taskforce of the best troops available, awaiting further orders. Sir Fancy, please maintain contact with the PHL until the the situation is resolved, but do not send our forces in unless the PHL commander on the scene requests support.”

Fancy balked at the order. “Highness, we surely must do more than that! We must take the lead in persecuting the operation to recover Major Bauer.”

“I agree with the Prime Minister, Princess.” Flare added, stepping forward with a look of concern. “The PHL’s forces are well-trained and blooded in battle, but the deaths of ponies at the hands of humans will have the population-”

“What? Reeling? Disgusted?” Celestia stepped in, her eyes narrowed. Fancy and Flare, to their credit, did not flinch. “These unknown players have absconded with an ally and friend, but clearly do not understand the adversary they face. If they expected humanity or ourselves to fall in line with whatever demands they shall issue, they clearly did not do their research.”

“Highness, while we understand the need of force, the PHL do not do things by half.”

“Good,” said Luna, again sharing a nod with Celestia. This was the greatest thrill, to be in perfect step with her sister, riding on the blistering edge between now and tomorrow.

“Excuse me?” Fancy frowned. “Majesties, mankind’s weapons are geared for war! Even a graze from their smallest caliber of arms would cripple a being for months, if not years. And think of the political storm that will arise from human troops carrying out a paramilitary action on sovereign Equestrian soil.”

“Prime Minister, Lady Flare. For some weeks now the Night Guard has been overseeing a paramilitary action under my aegis, gathering intelligence on a potential domestic terrorist network developing within our realm. We suspect that their ringleader is a documented xenophobe named Catseye, a mare who has taken steps to shield her dreams and those of her followers from mine sight. I now perceive this kidnapping reflects the first flexing of her organization’s muscles.”

She took a deep breath and looked to Celestia. “Sister, it is time… to revisit the mares we once were.”

“I suppose so,” Celestia’s eyes hardened as she spoke. “Sir Fancy, you have had time to come to terms with the prospect that We shall soon, perhaps very soon, pass from this world. Well, it is time the ponies of Equestria faced that reality too.”

“For long, perhaps too long,” Celestia intoned, “Equestria has lived under the blanket of mine protection, secure in the fact that no matter what threats may come, no matter what mistakes they make, there will always be a Princess in Canterlot to protect them from danger, threat, or fear of reprisal.”

Fancy shivered softly, face flushing with a heady mix of fear… and excitement. Awesome and terrible as it was, it was thrilling to hear the sisters speak so, and to stand on the cusp of a transformative moment in his nation’s history.

“That was not true fifteen hundred years ago,” Luna added, mane rustling. “And it may not be so in as little as fifteen days.”

“Equestria must learn to lead and defend itself,” Celestia said. “And for that they must know the fear of what failure to do so will bring upon them. Right now, in unknown holes and caves, ponies are plotting evil against ourselves and our allies, confident that they are beyond reproach.”

“We shall teach them otherwise,” continued Luna, “and humanity’s wrath today shall be the vanguard of this lesson. It is time that our ponies learn that we will not always be around to stem the punishment that their faults and transgressions bring upon them. That a simple smile and pleasant words can not make all the Nightmares go away. Their crime is come, so our will be done… the PHL will show the world what they can do, and the world shall marvel and fear the Equestria that inspired them to such heights of refined violence.”

Celestia took a half step forward. “And it shall remind them of the true nature of diplomacy, and denounce the casual arrogance engendered by Equestria’s being the mightiest superpower on Equus.”

“How will this be done?” Fancy asked, swallowing at the cold tone his leader was giving off.

“By reminding our ponies of the art of diplomacy, and that those who are our greatest allies might become our most fearsome adversaries, if we are to abuse their trust and goodwill. Catseye’s xenophobia is a latent stain within much of our people, good and honest ponies who nevertheless act with fear and revulsion on the day a kindly zebra walks into town. If Equestria is to survive into an age without Princesses, this self-evident truth must be learnt from the highest tower to the humblest home: we are no longer the supreme power, and we cannot continue to act with heavy-hoofed arrogance towards our friends and neighbours.”

“Sir Fancy,” Luna interjected. “If it was one of our own ponies who was taken so, there is little doubt you wish to champion the action to recover them.” Celestia turned to the noble, a frown on her face. “Your wife was nearly foalnapped once, wasn’t she outside of Equestrian soil. And again during the wedding. What happened then?”

Fancy lowered his head, his mane hiding his eyes in their shadow as he remain silent. Luna stepped in and lifted his chin.

“Sir Fancy, we have faith in your leadership, but today you must trust us this one last time. Beyond all other concerns, the need to ensure Major Bauer is rescued and his captors brought to justice, far exceeds the concerns of those who bleat over Equestrian sovereignty.”

“I hardly believe the PHL are so inaccurate with their targets, Fancy.” Celestia walked out the room, Luna, Fancy, and his entourage trailing after them. “These ponies, whoever they are, see themselves as acting in Equestria’s best interests. Our intelligence shows they believe I have become a puppet and my sister a tyrant…”

“Then does this action risk further inflaming their views and rhetoric, Highness?” Fancy said, trotting hard to keep up. “How do we mitigate that deadly risk?”

“Because we shall be completely removing us Princesses from the equation, Sir Fancy,” Luna said, turning and halting in his path. “Whatever transpires today, it must be seen to come from your cabinet and office. Spin the situation carefully if you must, muster all the unholy powers of realpolitik, but make it clear that Equestria’s government is now in the hands of its citizenry, who most assuredly have not forfeited their sovereignty.”

Fancy turned and looked behind him at his growing cabinet. Stormy Flare had his back, as did stovepipe-hatted Plain Speakin’. Even shovel-bearded Trotsky was nodding his approval. He had brought together Equestria’s seniormost politicians today, and concentrated the majority of the nation’s political goodwill under one banner.

Could they, between them, marshall the greater part of the nation’s spirit to a single cause, and drive the nay-sayers beyond even the fringes. Yes, yes they could. Let conspiracy theorists rave all they like - they were already beyond saving. But radical politics needed more than radical politicians to thrive - they needed a voter base. Terrorist cells were no different - and right now, the voting base’s figureheads were standing in this one room, working in unison.

“Very well,” he nodded to his princesses. “As you say Majesties, thy will be done. But we’re going to have to lead this story with a demonstration of native forces in action today, if not the EUP, then one of our non-human allies, one who clearly has no political inclination.”

“Flare,” Fancy said, whipping around to the headset-wearing Minister of War. “Please put me through immediately to the Joint Task Forces Command. I need to speak to someone.”

He rattled off a name, and after a moment’s haggling, Flare handed over the headset.

The Conversion Bureau: The Other Side of the Spectrum (The Original)

by Sledge115

Of Broken Pasts