Blueblood took another swig from his wine glass, frowning at its lack of body, and threw it to the ground beside his desk before looking back at the now-stained map of the Imperial Palace. He had positioned chess pieces, bottle caps, and a few pieces of hard candy as markers of importance.
Edict Agents were meeting with high level officials, tonight. In those meetings, deals were being struck, alliances made, and support gained for future actions. All of these were underway and unnoticed without the watchful gaze of Empress Rarity and Princess Twilight. Oh sure, there were guards in every nook and corner of that blasted hall, but they weren’t seeing what was happening right under their noses, no. They were focused on the immediate. The now. Threats of assassination, of mindless violence, of plots hours, days, maybe even months in the making.
No, they were looking for snowballs, while the glacier underhoof crept ever closer to its destination. The only real threat of discovery came from those, like him, who’d lived for long enough to set plans into motion, and guide them through to the end. And that takes decades or centuries to come to fruition.
And the only ponies who could spot even the most exposed edges of his plan had removed themselves from the picture, for now. To ‘talk things out’, to ‘make amends.’ He sneered, curling his lip at the nonsense of it all. It was cute. Futile, but cute.
On the whole, everything was going well for him. It wasn’t completely perfect, but there was enough unchecked forward process to allow himself to wallow about in a bit of smug satisfaction. But only just for the moment. He shook his head, clearing the rose-colored clouds of self adoration from his mind. If he was going to do this right, he needed to focus. No point in celebrating before checkmate, after all.
He looked over at the black bishop he had positioned near the bathrooms on the map. It had barely moved all night. With an irritated ‘tsk’ Blueblood summoned up another scroll, quickly scribbling instructions on it before teleporting it out of the room.
Blueblood let out a sigh, surprised at how tired the evening had made him. These events, which were so… lively, as much as he hated the word, were always a drain on him. He was a master of many puppets, and keeping all those strings taut was no easy task. Especially when some of those puppets would happily chew through the others, given the chance.
He looked back at the changelings busily standing about in the room with him, each of them trying their best to look more nonchalant than the others. And they were failing miserably. They were nervous, and therefore extremely annoying. If they weren’t buzzing their buggy little wings, or shifting back and forth on their chipped hooves, they were chatting nervously to each other in their weird language of clicks and snaps. Blueblood would almost trade the sound of their clicking for Twilight’s incessant celery munching. Almost.
He mused slightly at the irony of the situation. He had a pack of undisguised ravenous changelings, cowering for their lives in his presence. Ah, but they could tell, unlike all the others. They could tell he was no ordinary pony. And they were the only ones! Well, them and dogs.
And so, until he could be sure that they wouldn’t reveal his true nature to the world, he needed them. The changelings, not the dogs. Nopony needs those filthy beasts. But when that day came when he didn’t need them, again the changelings, he’d be sure to personally squish every last one of them.
Or at least until he grew bored.
But by Auntie Celestia’s shiny ball, he’d start with that Queen of theirs that they were each obsessed with. That obsession, which rivaled their chittering in the annoyance factor, had, if he were a more generous stallion then he admitted, been a tremendous opportunity for him.
All he had to do was promise to free her, and they were his. Blueblood nodded to himself. He’d do it. He promised. And a promise from Blueblood was like gravity. It was real, and it would always catch you in the end when you fell.
“Go back to Graham,” commanded a gravely voice from beside the changeling strapped into the surveillance apparatus.
Blueblood looked up in time to watch the changeling queenlet that spoke bop the other on the head, and the scene shining on the wall changed in an instant to show Graham Belle’s big stupid potentially-plan-ruining face.
He pushed down the rage that threatened to boil over, and tore his eyes off the screen and over to the changeling that called itself Sandy Gale. He looked over at it with a sort of curiosity. It had not dived so readily into the near-panicked frenzy that the lot of its hive mates had done once the Empress and Princess Twilight had stepped out. Instead, it sat near the projector and studied the images, occasionally tapping through the different feeds, and calling out for a slight adjustment here or a glance over there.
Blueblood stood up, stretching his sore joints until they popped, and then trotted over to the bug. An image of Graham Belle was being played as he was sitting across from a changeling disguised as a unicorn guard.
“I’ve already told you, I am Graham Belle, nephew to the Empress!” The unicorn slammed his hoof down on the interrogation table. “All Belles have an open invitation line to the celebrations of the Crystal Empress!”
“Sir, could you repeat your name for me?” asked the unicorn guard, his voice extremely nasally. “How is it that you spell your name, is that ‘B-e-l-l’?”
“No, it’s Bell-e, with an ‘e’ at the end.”
“Are you sure, sir?”
The unicorn sputtered for for a few seconds, before shouting back at the guard. “Am I sure that’s my last name? What are you, salt-addled?”
“Sir, please restrain your hostility, your cooperation will help speed the process along,” replied the unicorn, his nasally voice flat and bored. “So you’re related to the Empress, correct?”
“Star’s Garters, yes! I am a Belle!”
“Do you have any identification?”
Graham Belle stood up and slammed his hooves into the table once more. “You took it from me when you detained me!”
Blueblood couldn’t help but chuckle at Graham’s frustrations. “How long can this last?”
Sandy Gale frowned and gave him a shrug. “An hour, maybe three. It depends on when Commander Onyx sends somepony to find the ‘missing’ guard ‘interrogating’ Belle instead of at their post by the bar. And whether or not that somepony checks this particular broom closet.”
“Where is that Commander Onyx? Crying into his divorce papers no doubt.”
“I managed to get him into the kitchens for the third time on a false alert,” she replied, glancing up at the clock. “That was ten minutes ago. I’ve lost contact since.”
Blueblood frowned, looking back at the angry inventor on the screen. “So he could show up anywhere at any time. We’ll have to act fast.”
“My Lord, this Graham Belle. What is this pony to you?” asked Sandy Gale.
Blueblood appraised the question, nodding. Perhaps there was more to this particular bug than he’d given it credit. “Graham’s a wild card. A factor that I didn’t factor because it wasn’t a factor until it was suddenly the factor. He could ruin everything,” replied Blueblood as his magic brought forth a stack of papers, all held within a golden aura. He scanned the top few before tossing them into a folder and dropping said folder into a box.
“Then, my Lord, forgive my boldness, but perhaps a more… permanent solution is required,” suggested the hivemaid.
Blueblood shook his head, but chuckled. “I like your style! Determination. Focus. Ruthless efficiency. I really do, but no. Graham has the potential to be an excellent pawn. He’s smart in all the right places, and dumb as a stump where it counts. That potential is too great to warrant such a casual dismissal from the board.”
A scroll popped into existence next to the two, cutting off any further remarks from the curious hivemaid. Blueblood floated the scroll up and unwound it, smiling as he read. “It seems as if our good Senator Underhill has some use left after all.”
“How so?”
“It’s a report. It seems that the colts in Equestrian Intelligence, acting on an anonymous tip, raided his office back in the Senate.”
Sandy Gale smirked, her jagged teeth gleaming at him in the projector’s reflected light. “An anonymous tip, eh? What ever did they find?”
“Evidence of a plot most dire, I’m afraid. Evidence detailing how he broke into the palace and stole the poison pill bill from Princess Twilight’s war chest. Detailing how he lied to me about its authenticity, and how he forged a missive from the Princess with details of how I was to reveal it to the Empress if she would not yield on the telegraph system.”
“He made quite the blunder in front of the Princess,” replied Sandy, booping the changeling projector on the nose again. “His outburst on the state of affairs between the Empire and Equestria means she won’t trust him for quite a while. This ‘anonymous’ tipper has done you quite the favor.”
Another check in the box for this one, he thought to himself. It… rather she, must be watched carefully. “Yes, and as amusing as watching his groveling to her would be, I’m afraid he may not be around long enough to put on such a show.”
Sandy Gale’s pupils became slits, and her wings buzzed in the heat of the moment. “So, he can provide you with no more? Perhaps… Perhaps we can take him to the hive?”
The other changelings in the room chittered excitedly, touching their mouths and mandibles with their hole-filled forehooves, and she continued. “Perhaps we can feed from a conscious host again an—”
“No!” he said resolutely, denying any further questions on the subject. “What the good Senator can provide for us now is cover.”
Sandy looked away from the screen and dared to look him in the eyes, fearless though still shaking from the hivemind’s clawing desire for lively prey. “Cover?”
“Do you know what the most dangerous chess piece is?” asked Blueblood, turning away from the changeling.
He waited until she answered. “The queen.”
He shook his head. “No. She is a very powerful piece, but not without her fatal weaknesses.”
The changelings around Blueblood bristled at his words. They knew what he was talking about. To believe that their leader had a weakness was near intolerable for them. Unthinkable. Just like little fillies and colts who couldn’t understand that their parents weren’t perfect.
“Without a doubt, she is a commanding presence once in play,” continued Blueblood as he reviewed the map on his desk. “But, in order to use her most effectively, you have to distract your opponent with other, potentially dangerous, pieces.”
Continuing, he said. “So what is the most dangerous piece? Any other guesses? No? I’ll tell you. The most dangerous piece is the one that distracts you from winning.”
For a moment there was silence. Then, a curse of sorts, as Blueblood recognized it, in their clicking chittery tongue. “Underhill is your distraction,” stated Sandy, looking back at him. The realization dawning on her. “But focusing on him, it just… Wouldn’t he unite them?”
“The good Senator is a distraction. And Graham Belle is a distraction. And Twilight and Rarity are distractions all on their own. This boiling bickering between Equestria and the Empire is yet another distraction,” said Blueblood. “I aim to bring the Queen onto the board, but her biggest weakness is the attention she brings. Whenever her counterpart in chess comes out on the board, most of the inexperienced chess players focus relentlessly on her because of her power. To use her the most effectively, you need your enemy focused on something else. Distracted.”
“All warfare is based on deception,” replied Sandy with a nod. “You make your enemy think you are far away when you are close, large when you are small.”
“Exactly, and if the Queen is going to step out onto this board, I need attention focused as far away from her as possible,” continued Blueblood. “Precise levels of discrepancy and secrecy must be maintained, too much and it gets obvious, too little and we’re seen.”
“But what—” started Sandy Gale before stopping suddenly.
Blueblood looked up from his map and watched as she turned her head towards the far wall, and her ears flicked back and forth in the way that Blueblood knew meant that she was actively talking with the hivemind. She cursed her changeling curse again, and smacked the creature in the projector apparatus, changing the image it projected once more. “It’s Commander Onyx. He’s found our guard and Graham.”
Furious, Blueblood looked up at the screen with clenched teeth. On the screen, a confused-looking Onyx, flanked by two other guards, was having a conversation with Graham.
“Why is there no sound?” asked Blueblood as he glared at Sandy Gale. “Also, that wasn’t an hour or three, that was fourteen minutes at best!”
“I said it depends on when he arrives,” replied Sandy, “I think—”
“WHY IS THERE NO SOUND?” he bellowed as he ran up, towering over the quailing changelings.
Sandy touched him with a hoof, and closed her eyes. She turned her head to the far wall again, and her ears flicked back and forth. “The changeling in the room with them is panicking. I will share what I can… Onyx is asking why Graham was detained. The changeling says because he was not on the guest list…. Onyx says that all retained guests were to be taken to the Command Center. Oh bleh, I can taste Onyx’s distrust of the guard from here,” she said, gagging a bit.
Blueblood was so mad, he could spit, if he was some sort of spitting commoner, but—
Sandy Gale gasped, shouting “No!”
He turned back to the projected image on the screen and watched from the perspective of the panicked changeling as the feeble-minded creature hit its fight or flight response, and decided that flight was the way to go. Having surprised the guards at the door, it bowled into them, rushing past and ignoring their commands. Now it was mindlessly running through the palace as fast as its unicorn disguise could carry it.
Blueblood, on the verge of screaming, tried to push his undying rage back under his control. “Get that thing out of there. Do not let the guards get him. Do not let them find out what it is. Do whatever you must do to rectify this situation, and do it now!”
Sandy Gale nodded, though she and the other changelings still focused their attention at the far wall. “I won’t fail you.”
“See to it that you don’t,” he growled before turning around and addressing the trembling changelings before him. “You haven’t failed me, yet, and it would be a shame for the strongest of you to fail your Queen when you are so close to rescuing her. Do what must be done. For me. For your hive. For your Queen. For now I must get ready to leave.”
“R-ready?” asked Sandy, her eyes still screwed shut in concentration. “You mean you’re—”
“My hoof is being forced here,” said Blueblood as he levitated a plain brown cloak over to himself and headed for the door. “Sandy Gale? Look at me for a moment.”
She finally opened her eyes, and looked over at him. “Yes?”
Blueblood paused by the door, adjusting the cloak’s straps. A single flash of his horn and the frostburn returned, as did the false bruising on his face. He coughed a few times, as the magic took hold of his vocal cords so they would be nice and hoarse, as he was when he fooled Princess Twilight in his parlor.
“It is imperative that the painting makes it out of the Empire, safe, undetected and to my Family Estate in Canterlot,” he croaked.
“Painting? Oh, the one that the Princess used her magic to fi—”
There was a golden pop, and a large portrait, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, appeared in the room. It floated over to his desk, coming to rest on top of the map.
“Again, it is imperative. See to it personally, if you must. Without that painting, I cannot free your Queen. Leave in thirty minutes. Forty if you must, but no longer.”
* * *
The lights flared to life as soon as the Throne Room doors shut with firm clicks, followed by the sound of the alchemical space heaters built into the wall beneath the two towering windows that flanked the doors slowly warming up. Rarity smiled, in spite of herself. The cleaning staff had done their work well.
There was no trace of the black crystals that had previously overtaken the room, and the red carpet leading to her oversized throne had been replaced. There was no sign of the old table or the chairs that had been in the meeting before her outburst. There was still a bit of the bitter aftertaste of Sombra’s dark magic in the air, but… No, that was just her imagination.
It was then that Rarity let out a breath she hadn’t noticed she’d been holding. It had been a very long day. And she desperately wanted to curl up on her throne and take a long nap. But the sound of the gilded horseshoes stepping off to her left and behind her quickly put those thoughts to rest.
“Wow, I had forgotten what a great view your throne room has,” said Twilight as she watched the fireworks, muted as they were through the magical glass, as they exploded over the party hall.
Rarity nodded, but said nothing as she continued to trot forward to her throne, taking care not to let her body betray just how tired she was. She smiled at the sight of her throne. A deep light resonated from within, giving it an otherworldly glow. Instead of seating herself on the throne, she pulled the top cushion off and tossed it to the floor, revealing a secret cubby filled with an assortment of essentials: several extra pillows, a blanket or two, an emergency sewing kit, half a bottle of gin... Everything an Empress would need to get through a busy day of growing a nation.
She pulled two red pillows out, as well as one of the blankets — just in case —, and set them down by the foot of the three small steps that lead up to the throne. Next came the gin as she shut the cubby and replaced the cushion with her magic.
“Care for a drink before we get started?” she asked, turning to take a seat on her favorite of the two pillows.
Twilight nodded as she flumped down on a pillow. “Sure. I’m already two daiquiris ahead of you, though. But if you don’t mind holding off on the gin, I have a bit of a peace offering in that regard.”
Rarity’s eye twitched slightly in annoyance with the casual way Twilight all but threw herself onto the pillow, with complete disregard for how her midnight blue dress would look after the fact. Rarity, on the other hoof, would not allow such values to be compromised, not even in the private company of others. She carefully walked onto her pillow, and circled a few times before gently placing herself onto the pillow in the optimal position.
Twilight, apparently preoccupied with more important matters than observing a free lesson in etiquette, opened the saddlebag given to her by one of the Arcane Guards. With apparent reverence, she removed a small wooden box devoid of any markings save three apples burned into the wood. She opened the lid and propped it up into place in the slot in the back. Rarity felt a stab of pain lance up from her chest.
An old time-faded photograph of Applejack was fixed to the inside lid. She was smiling confidently, as she always did. Inside the box was a pristine bottle of smooth dark amber liquid.
“Is that?”
“E’yup. From the south forty, too,” replied Twilight, setting the bottle out. “I thought it would be a good idea, considering… Well, you know.”
“The south forty?” asked Rarity, her interest piqued. “What is the south forty?”
“Farmers have a tendency to nickname their fields, to make conversation easier.” Twilight pulled two small glasses out of her saddlebag as she lectured on. “Direction is used for the sake of clarification. For example, if you have two fields, the northern-most field could be called the north field. Names are also developed from the acreage number or somepony's name if the land is rented.”
Rarity let her mind wander a bit as Twilight spoke as she remembered her Ponyville days. Trips to the library with Fluttershy in tow for tea and gossip with the girls. Pinkie Pie would bounce in after her shift at the bakery with a batch of the day’s unsold goodies. Sometimes Rainbow Dash would make an appearance, but more often than not, she’d be napping somewhere nearby. Perhaps even in the Library’s own lofty boughs. An—
“—Applejack had this slice of farmland that she got from the Carrots when they left? One of the fields was separated from the others by a small canyon, if I recall.” Twilight continued on and Rarity watched as she expertly filled both glasses to the halfway point, and passed one to her.
“It was about forty acres across, and they called it ‘the forty’. Though it should be noted that this wasn’t a particularly large slice of farmland. You see, acres are not very big. One acre is just about forty three thousand, five hundred and sixty square feet, and thirty of those is roughly zero point zero five square miles.”
“The south forty, was it?” asked Rarity, lowering her muzzle to the glass to enjoy its bouquet.
Twilight nodded.
“I seem to recall Applejack mentioning something about field locations… but... Oh, it was so long ago,” said Rarity, her memory suddenly fuzzy again. She shook her head once to clear her mind and took another whiff of the cider. “Mhmm. Applejack always did like going deep into the forgotten parts of Sweet Apple Acres. It was quiet back there. Secluded.”
“To Applejack?” Twilight asked, raising her own glass into the air by hoof.
“To Applejack,” Rarity answered back with a heartfelt smile, lifting her own glass. The two old friends clinked their glasses together, and Rarity let the cider wash over her tongue. It was smooth and a bit sweet, rich in the taste of apples and a dash of cinnamon. It had aged well in the Applewood barrels. It was the taste of summer on the farm. It was the taste of a memory. It was a small joy.
Silence reigned between the two rulers as their own thoughts took over.
Rarity glanced over at Twilight, her own snifter rolling back and forth between her hooves. Neither of the two seemed exactly sure of what to say. Rarity bit her lip and looked down into her own glass, silently pleading for an answer.
Rarity sighed and placed the drink back down on the floor. There was… there was a lot she could talk about. A full laundry list and more of important political and economic issues that needed a proper discussion. But there were other things weighing heavily on her mind too. Beyond the Empire’s growth, the Diamond Dogs, and even the grim spectre of war that Sombra had shown her... The heaviest weight by far was that of the every fraying bond of friendship that once seemed so impossible to break.
And judging by the way Twilight staring out through the window over her left shoulder, there was a fair amount of things on her mind, too.
But how to start?
"I like the drapes. Are they new?"
Rarity smiled with a sigh. "Thank you. I've had them for... Oh, I'd say a decade or so."
Twilight winced at the undertone. "Sorry. Guess it has been a long time since my last visit." She giggled, "I remember when this was Cadence's throne room. How little Cassie would zip around at all hours of the day, landing among the royal petitioners and asking about their day."
Rarity nodded, and a cloying sense of nostalgia poured over her like honey. This grand room had a history alright. Of gentler times. Of happier times. She frowned. Remembering another such time. A time of partings. The end of a reign, and the consequences there in that lead to her own.
"Cassandra was quite the hoofful for poor Cadence," she recalled, her smile fading. "You know, I don't think Cadence ever got over the loss. After the windigo incident, she rarely talked about her when I was Chancellor."
Rarity could feel the sudden shift in Twilight's mood, the empty place in her heart for her missing niece. Her smile never wavered, but her eyes reflected the hollowness.
"Loss is a strong word. I… She's not gone forever. The letter she left Cadence said—" Twilight stopped when her eyes finally fell on Rarity's face, her expression a strange mix of empathy and scorn.
And then, a curious thing happened. Rarity reached out an icey hoof, and laid it on Twilight's own. "It's alright to let go, Twilight. It's been a long time."
Twilight pulled away her hoof, though Rarity knew it wasn't due to the cold. The Princess of Equestria took a deep wavering breath, and shook her head. "No. She promised she’d come back home. And Cassie was a lot of things, but never a liar. I know it’s been a long time. An impossibly long time for most ponies, but I know, somehow I know, that she’s going to come home."
"Twilight. It’s been over two centuries." Rarity tried again. “It’s not like she was an Alico-”
"Let’s talk about something else, okay? I've done a lot of waiting for a lot of ponies that I know will come back. Ponies that care for me. That care for us,” replied Twilight. “And I'm not going to cast them out of my heart just yet."
Rarity pulled her still-outstretched hoof back in a jerk. “That’s not what I was suggesting at all, Twilight! Moving on isn’t forgetting somepony.” She waited for Twilight to say something, but silence settled in between them once again. Rarity traced the patterns in the stonework on the floor.
The uncharacteristic grimace that had settled on Twilight’s face turned Rarity's thoughts uncomfortably towards her recent encounter with the uncovered Celestia, and she shivered. Their brief battle and the power that the missing Sun Goddess used against her had been frightening. But the Crystal Heart, sensing her unease, brought forth comfort in the form of another memory. A warm summer night. Shooting stars with ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’. Laughter with friends on that midnight hilltop picnic. And later still, the rushing of fields and forests, swept away from under her hooves as she and Luna chased the dawn.
Rarity smiled at the feelings of peace and comfort the memory had brought her. “Twilight, I’d rather like to think that, no matter how much time goes between visits, that we are still friends. Good friends.”
Twilight smiled, and nodded.
“Now, that said, what would you like to talk about?”
The Crystal Empress watched as Twilight closed her eyes, screwing her courage in place to speak. “Something happened today. Earlier today. Between you and Blueblood. I’d like to… I need to know what happened, and why.”
Rarity looked over at her and met her gaze, regretting it instantly. She’d seen that look before. Those eyes were full of compassion and pity, even regret. Rarity felt anger snap within her, wide awake and furious, demanding and vengeful.
Rarity took a long drink from her glass, draining it as she focused her efforts on tamping that anger back down. “I’m not exactly sure what I can tell you that you probably don’t know already.”
"Rarity, I'm worried about you,” replied Twilight. Physically, she hadn’t reacted to the jab, but Rarity felt her emotions tighten. “I saw you resting today, through the ley lines. Exhausted from something, and your Palace is practically drenched in the Crystal Heart’s command for peace. Be honest with me, what happened?"
“It was nothing you need to worry yourself about,” replied Rarity with some firmness. “I can manage my affairs on my own. It was just a… little magical feedbac—”
“Magical feedback?” interrupted Twilight, her ears flattening. “How bad was it this time?”
“I… ” Rarity closed her mouth, silencing the lie before it could cross her lips. She knew that the Goddess of Magic could easily find out if she wanted to. Rarity bit her lip as she considered what to say exactly. "It... I..."
"How bad?" repeated Twilight.
"It cracked my coat and knocked me out." Rarity looked away from Twilight, suddenly fascinated with the color pattern in the marble floor.
Rarity couldn’t help but flinch as she heard Twilight hiss. "Rarity."
"I know, I know," she replied in a pout. “You need not lecture me on such matters, Twilight.”
"Rarity, you should have let me know,” said Twilight. "What about the headaches?"
"Oh, good you know,” said Rarity. “They, umm, they never left. But I’m fine with them, I can manage."
“Let me look,” insisted Twilight, her horn glowing ominously.
Rarity hesitated, mentally throwing a wall over the barred door that imprisoned Sombra, much like how one would throw a blanket over a messy bed and call it made. “Alright. But as your friend, I ask you to be careful, Twilight.”
The other nodded, and then walked over and tapped her horn to Rarity’s. She felt a brief flash of warmth as Twilight's magic pulsed through her head. But the sensation was, overall, less than pleasant. The sudden surge of magic rushing through her damaged lines and weakened cores caused a wave of nausea and dizziness. Rarity struggled to stay sitting up straight. A second pulse of magic cause Rarity to slip back and crash on the floor with a dull clunk.
Her falling severed the magical connection between the two immortals, and Rarity smiled in the relative comfort of a blistering migraine.
"How... how are you even conscious?" asked Twilight, her voice belying horror and fascination in equal measure. "You have more fragmented lines than intact ones, and I can't believe you don't have a compromised core."
“It’s better than it was, truth be told,” muttered Rarity. She rubbed a hoof along her head, still lying prone on the floor and hoping for the pounding to go away. “A core had become completely unaligned within the system.”
“You’re going to need a full work up. Meditation, arcane therapy, everything,” said Twilight, with a clinical tone. “What happened it?”
“Your Ambassador happened,” Rarity said, a little sharper than she had intended.
“Blueblood?” asked Twilight. “What about him? Is this about the telegraph proposal?”
“That was part of it, yes. But that too is a completely different dance that the Empire will not be dancing to.”
“But why? Is it the money? We can rework the terms. Or, are you worried that because one of your family members is the inventor, ponies will assume some sort of nepotism was involved?”
Rarity paused for a brief moment. “Family?” she asked.
“Well, yeah, I mean. Graham was the…” Rarity caught the spark of realization as it lit upon Twilight’s face. “You didn’t know that Graham Belle was the inventor, did you?”
“No, I did not.”
Rarity smiled, remembering the last time she saw Graham, the grandson of her distant niece Ma-... “It doesn’t matter who the inventor is, it isn’t an investment that I will be considering at this time. There are other, far more important projects that need to be completed for the good of the Empire.”
“More important? Like what? Shimmering Bay?” Twilight asked, in feigned ignorance. “I had heard about that, con—”
“Yes, like Shimmering Bay,” snapped Rarity. “How is it that everypony already knows about Shimmering Bay? I just closed the deal with the griffons today, for pity’s sake.”
Rankled, Rarity rolled upright and clambered to her hooves, ignoring the metaphysical pain it brought. “It’s that rat of an ambassador, Blueblood, isn’t it? He told you, didn’t he?” she demanded as she rounded on the greying figure of Twilight.
Twilight backed away, but held her head high, much to Rarity’s indignation. “He performed his duty for Equestria. I don’t know how he came to know about Shimmering Bay, bu—”
“But!” Rarity snarled, seeing smoke waft in from the corners of her vision. “He has clearly overstepped his boundaries. Or is spying on an old friend what you intended to do? I want him removed, immediately.”
“Rarity, I know Blueblood can be a bit pompous at times,” said Twilight, her voice twisting in Rarity’s ears into sort of sickening sweet way a mare would use to explain to a filly why she had to share her toys with others.
Rarity stood her ground, trying her best to ignore how it buckled this way and that. “Guard!” she called to the door.
A visible panic gripped Twilight, and Rarity watched as the door opened immediately to reveal a worried looking stallion poking his head into the room.
In an icy voice, she decreed, “Gather some colts to find the members of the Crystal Council and tell them that from this day forward, we are ceasing all diplomatic relations with Equestria until Ambassador Blueblood is removed from his post.”
“Rarity!” gasped Twilight.
Rarity, not turning away from the stallion by the door, ignored Twilight’s consternation. “That is all.”
The stallion saluted, and shot Twilight an uneasy look before pulling his head back out of the room and shutting the door.
“Really now. It comes to this? Banning all diplomatic relations between our two countries, countries, Rarity?! And then you have the nerve to demand that I fire Blueblood after you beat him up? Even for you, isn’t this a little… Extreme?”
“Extreme?” asked Rarity, her horn flashed brightly for a moment before a purple folder with the mark of magic on the front of it, dropping to the floor. “Tell me about how I’m the one being extreme.”
Twilight’s face was something that Rarity could only describe as a mix of interest and confusion with a splash of worry. The soft magenta glow of Twilight’s magic picked up the folder and opened it. Her face changed immediately to a neutral facade, but Rarity could feel her with the Crystal Heart. Alarm. Panic. Frustration.
“Where did you get this?” asked Twilight, shutting the folder.
“From Blueblood,” replied Rarity, carefully watching Twilight’s face. “After I had refused his telegraph proposal, he tried to force my compliance with this… monstrosity. I had hoped the bill was fake. It’s real, isn’t it?”
Twilight bit her lip and looked back at her, pain and regret in her eyes. “What do you think?”
“Twilight, why? What on earth for?”
“To stop things before they got worse,” said Twilight, refusing to meet Rarity’s gaze. “It was the last resort. To stop any war between us, to stop us from making a mistake. I’m not going to cross swords with you, I will never stand on the battlefield with you on the other side.”
“But you’d make my Empire destitute,” stated Rarity. The calm in her voice hit Twilight like a kick in the face. “You would set us back hundreds of years, destroy all of my work. Ponies would suffer, Twilight. Is this telegraph really worth the pain your bill would cause?”
Twilight stared back at her, tears threatening to break loose.
Rarity gritted her teeth and looked away as haunting visions of a destroyed Empire rushed through her mind. Her heart began to race, breathing became difficult as thoughts of the green crystal prison clouded her mind. It’s going to happen, isn’t it?
She heard something, like her name being called out. Rarity looked over at Twilight, finally being able to push the visions out of her head, and blinked back at her, wide eyed and frankly terrified. “Why?”
“This bill isn’t meant to bully you into building the telegraph. This bill has one purpose, and one purpose alone. And that’s to stop a war. I have hundreds of bills like it in a vault back at the castle in Canterlot,” replied Twilight. “All of them are emergency plans to be enacted should the worst ever come to pass.”
“Then why use one against me?” cried out Rarity.
“I didn’t,” pleaded Twilight. “It’s not meant for this sort of thing. These bills are all pre-signed by myself need a final approval vote by both houses of the Senate before they can be enacted.”
“And Blueblood just happened to give me this one?” asked Rarity. “Twilight, he told me that it was going to be enacted if I didn’t agree to the Telegraph!”
Twilight gripped her head and cursed. “How was this even possible?” With a flicker of will, the paper contents of the folder formed a grid, floating in the air. Her eyes darted across each page. “These haven’t been doctored… There’s no mention of the telegraph in here at all, just the intended language about preserving peace in the face of disharmony.”
The air in the throne room was deadly still, as Twilight read the document in full, the sound of fireworks beyond the window and revelry far below might as well have been miles away.
Finally, the papers fell to the ground and Twilight rubbed her forehead with a hoof. “I don’t know how Blueblood got a hold of this thing, but I promise you I won’t rest until I find out. Why would he make that threat?” she asked herself.
“He didn’t make that threat.”
Twilight looked up at the tears in her friend’s eyes.
“You made it.” replied Rarity with some numbness. ”You made it. Not trusting us, not trusting me.”
“Rarity, listen to me. This is different. I have one for every nation. This isn’t personal. I promise. I’m sorry, that you found out this way, but I swear to you on our friendship that it is not personal,” begged Twilight.
Rarity wanted to believe her oldest friend. She wanted to look into those once warm eyes and know that this time it was all going to work out okay, just like every other time before. But she knew. She knew that sometimes it just didn’t work out.
“I’m tired, Twilight.” Rarity pulled the crown off her head with a weary sigh. It was made by the best deer silver smiths of Elkdom, and was incredibly light. But there was so much more than weight that made it heavy. It slipped out of her hoof and bounced off the floor with a ringing ‘tink’, and wobbled away before coming to rest. “I’m tired of all of this… nonsense.”
“Maybe,” encouraged Twilight, “You could take a break. Perhaps the Crystal ponies could find somepony else to be in charge for a li—”
Rarity didn't hear the rest as the anger in her chest boiled over. She could smell the grey smoke that was now clouding her vision. “Well, I'm what they've got, Twilight. Me! And I will do everything in my very real and very formidable power to see that this sovereign nation lasts forever!” Rarity slammed her hoof into the ground, channelling power through it.
Black crystals, half a meter thick and two meters tall bursted out of the floor.
“How did you do that?” asked Twilight in a fearful whisper. She prodded one of the crystals with her hoof.
“Do what?” asked Rarity.
“Rarity, I’ve only ever seen one other pony do that. And he’s been dead a long time.”
”I’m the Crystal Empress, Twilight.” Rarity gritted her teeth as a sharp throb of pain lanced out from the back of her mind. “Besides, it’s nothing new. I used it during the Battle of Appleloosa.”
“No, I remember that. You used ice. Not these,” cautioned Twilight. The Goddess of Magic probed the baffling crystals with her magic, but her magic reverberated off of it like lead. “These are infused with something I can’t get my magic past. This is different. Rarity, what have you done?”
The world was starting to feel odd, distant to Rarity as she looked over a Twilight. “You’re going to tell me what I can and can’t do?”
“What? No, that’s not it.”
“After it comes to light that you’ve got a sock drawer full of weaponized bills?” growled Rarity, her eyes stretched thin. “You’re overstepping yourself, my dear Princess!”
Twilight’s wings flung out wide open in a defensive posture, making herself appear large and intimidating. “Stop!” commanded Twilight, letting out a calming breath.
Rarity, frozen in place, realized that she’d somehow lunged into the air. Within herself, she could feel the Crystal Heart working frantically to fill her with positive energy, and push out the anger and frustration that had somehow boiled over within herself. “Twilight?” Rarity asked, unsure of herself.
“I’m here to help you. I always have, and always will.”
Rarity blinked a few times. She sat herself down on the floor, trying to get a grasp of what was going on as the anger was snuffed out of her heart. “I’m sorry, Twilight,” her voice coming out barely above a whisper.
She felt a pair of hooves around her neck and pulled her into a brief hug. Rarity watched Twilight as the other mare let go rubbing the warmth back into her forelegs.
“I’m sorry too, Rarity. I never meant to offend. You’re up here all alone and I worry about you. So does Cadence.”
Rarity opened her mouth to reply when a faint noise caught her attention first. She looked over at the throne room doors with a raised eyebrow. Hearing anything through the heavy doors meant that, whatever it was, it was no small matter. Slowly, once more sure of herself and her footing, Rarity stood up and walked to the door. Twilight followed closely behind, her ears tilted towards the door as she too heard the noises. “What the hay is going on out there?” she asked nopony in particular.
Rarity opened the door with her magic and looked out into the hall. Where there had previously been a hoofful of guards now stood a large gathering of party guests, a dozen or so, watching a pile of guards struggling to pin some poor soul.
“What’s going on here?” asked Rarity, her voice magically echoing off the walls.
“Princess!” The cloaked stallion called out as he pushed himself out of the group of cowed Crystal Guards. A hoof caught the edge of his cloak, and the stallion tripped, slamming into the floor. Uncovered, he laid there in a daze before letting out a weak moan.
“Ambassador Blueblood?” gasped Twilight.
Rarity’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the unicorn, a snarl coming quick to her face, though she fought to control herself. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Empress,” said one of the guards. “The Ambassador was trying to br—”
“It is my duty to bring the Princess important information that is relevant to the safety and security of Equestria and its Crown!” Blueblood shouted, as he struggled to free himself from the rest of his cloak.
“You have a few duties, Ambassador,” said Twilight as she took a few steps forward, motioning other ponies aside with her wings. “What is so urgent that you had to wrestle your way through a unit of guards to find me?”
“Princess, I’ve received a report regarding Diplomatic Order Rising East,” replied Blueblood hurriedly, keeping his head on a swivel to watch the guards.
“What?” asked Rarity.
“Princess Celestia,” breathed Twilight.
Rarity backed away slowly, and tapped her back left hoof twice on the floor. She watched as the guards set themselves like wound coils, their faces set in stone, their orders clear. Theirs was not to ask why, but do.
“W-where is she?” asked Twilight.
“She was last seen within the Crystal Empire, Princess.”
“When?”
“Roughly six months ago, Your Highness.”
“This could be it.” Twilight’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “At long last. Rarity, I need as many Guards as you can spare! Blueblood, get the Embassy mobilized, and send a letter immediately to Cadence!”
"Oh no..." whispered Rarity, under her breath.
“Two hundred long years,” continued Twilight as she began pacing and ranting off about it. “Two hundred years! Ohh, this is just so exciting!”
Rarity looked at Blueblood. He matched her gaze and Rarity shook her head at the slightest movement, silently pleaded with him not to do it. For a second, for just an instant, she would swear that she saw him smirk before he answered Twilight.
“I fear any action now might be difficult,” he said somberly.
Rarity watched with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as Twilight blinked the stars from her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I’m afraid she was here,” replied Blueblood, lowering his eyes and drooping his head. “The information I have said the Empres—”
“Enough!” interrupted Rarity as she trotted forward. “I will hear no more of these, these baseless rants and accusations!”
“My apologizes, Empress,” replied Blueblood, bowing deeply, and taking pains to make it look painful. “I fear you will not forgive me, but I have a duty to perform.”
Rarity turned to counter, but Twilight beat her to it. “Empress Rarity, I will hear my Ambassador out. Please continue, Blueblood.”
“As I was saying,” continued Blueblood, his eyes downcast. “The Goddess of the Sun encountered Empress Rarity, and—”
“Wait,” Twilight turned and looked at Rarity, “Did you—”
“Twilight I promise I can explain,” pleaded Rarity with a broken voice.
“Rarity.” The Crystal Empress watched as the Goddess of Magic turned hesitantly to stare holes through her. “But… you promised… if there was even a whisper of them, you’d tell me.”
“I don’t think, I mean, it wasn’t the right time.”
Twilight’s hooves cracked down on the floor, breaking the marble beneath. “You promised me!”
A gasp went up among the assembled crowd. Rarity watched as a few of her ponies galloped away, terror written plainly across their faces.
“Where is she then?” asked Twilight in whispers. “What did you do?”
“Twilight, I—”
“What happened!” demanded the alicorn, taking steps towards Rarity. Crystal Guards formed up around their Empress.
Her eyes shot around the room and she felt hot with shame from the pity and fear that emanated off of her Crystal ponies. The anger was swelling up within her once more. “You dare treat me with so little respect?!” snapped Rarity. “You are on thin ice, Twilight Sparkle. Take heed, this is your last and only warning.”
“Or what?” Twilight’s voice was cold, focused and determined. “What can you possibly do?”
Rarity stood tall. Defiant, but unable to keep the tears from streaming down her face. “You may live forever, Twilight, but so help me, I will make you regret every moment of it if I must.”
Twilight, thin lipped, said nothing. She turned and bowed to Blueblood. “Thank you, Ambassador. I fear that your duties here in the Crystal Empire are fulfilled.”
Blueblood took a step forward, kneeling as best as his injuries would allow. “Princess, please, I’m sorry. I never meant for this to happen,” he said hurriedly. “If there’s anything more I can do, I—”
Twilight shook her head. “You’ve done more than enough, my little pony. Please return to Equestria with all speed. Take my train if you must. I’ll be leaving within the hour.”
There were gasps and broken bits of distressed conversation amongst the gathered party guests. “So soon? But… But I’m not ready!” pleaded the Ambassador. “What about my things?”
Twilight walked along side the Ambassador and helped him up. He leaned against her as he hobbled his way through the hall, complaining and pouting as only he could.
“Twilight,” Rarity called out from her spot by the throne room doors.
Her old friend stopped and her ears swiveled back.
“It’s not that simple. If they don’t want to be found, they won’t be.”
Rarity waited for a reply as the seconds scrapped by like glaciers.
“Goodbye, Rarity,” was her answer. Rarity stood there, watching until Twilight walked out into the cool night and the doors closed behind her.
* * *
Standing in front of the valet’s desk, Twilight watched as a hive of activity bustled around her. Everypony was abandoning ship, so to say. Ponies and guests of all sorts were attempting to leave the Palace, many avoided her gaze, and she heard whisperings of political fallout, and all sorts of disasters. Party Hats was trying to get guests to stop from leaving, promising all sorts of fun and food if they stayed, but nothing was working. Twilight briefly doubted that even Pinkie Pie could turn the mood around. What guards were available were trying desperately to maintain order, while valets tried to get carriages out. Reporters of all kinds were gathering like vultures to a carcass, taking photos, and trying to get statements and interviews.
Wisely, they left Twilight alone. She couldn’t remember the last time she was this mad. The fury swirled around her, nearly clouding her judgment and perception. But at the same time, she couldn’t remember the last time she was this scared.
“Spike, take a letter!”
The small dragon looked up at her with an arched eyebrow. “Take a letter?” Visibly annoyed, he started counting off transgressions on his little claws. “You had a fight with Rarity. You send a messenger to come get me off the roof, instead of getting me yourself. You had a huge fight with Rarity. I never got to shoot off any fireworks. And you had a HUGE fi—”
He looked up, and she was scowling down at him with a face that would make an owlbear wet itself.
“Uh… I mean, sure Twilight, whatever you say.” He pulled a small Rarity shaped notepad out of his Rarity shaped tote bag.
“Send this to Ambassador Petoskey at the Imperial Embassy in Canterlot,” said Twilight as she marched into her newly arrived carriage. “If the Empress wishes to behave like this, then we won’t indulge her any more. Tell him to clear out of Equestria by sunset tomorrow.”
“Princess Twilight, don't you think you’re acting a bit hasty in this?” asked Blueblood from behind Spike, causing the drake to jump.
“Jeez! How did you…” Spike shook his head, and glanced at the unicorn. “When did you get behind me like that?”
“Hasty?” asked Twilight, a certain fire in eyes. “Ambassador Blueblood, you of all ponies here, should be the last one in the world to use that word.”
“Your Majesty, I—”
“No, Blueblood, I don’t want to hear it,” said Twilight, leaning out of the open door to her carriage as the poor valet tried desperately to shut it without enraging her further. “Telling me about Celestia was a good thing, and I thank you. But I trusted you to keep the goodwill going here in the Crystal Empire, and I’m sad to say that you have utterly failed in that task.”.
“But… But I—”
“No buts!” snapped Twilight. “You have effectively ruined a relationship between countries, by your unsanctioned antagonizing.”
“But it was—”
“You’re a bully!” she shouted. The gathered gawkers gasped, a photo bulb flashed, and the Ambassador sank to his knees. The alicorn spun around and called over Blueblood’s head to the rest of her delegation. “Let’s go everypony. We’re leaving the Crystal Empire.”
The train whistle for the Equestria Express sounded in the distance, signalling the fires in its engine were ready to pull away, perhaps for the last time. Her expression brokered no argument, and without a word, Spike and the Equestrian Delegation piled in.
All except for Blueblood. A purple hoof shot out in front of him, halting him. General Shears passed Blueblood a silent nod and a expression of pity. As if the Ambassador was on his way to a chopping block.
“Captain Shining Star,” she shouted to the bewildered looking leader of her Arcane Guard. “See to it that all VIPs are on that train before it leaves,” commanded Twilight.
“Princess, please, don’t do this.” Blueblood looked over, finding Captain Shining Star pleading with the stone faced Goddess. “It’s not too late to get this all worked out with the Crystal—”
Twilight shook her head. “It is too late. I’m sorry. I’ll meet you on the train, I have other business to attend to.”
“Business?”
“Somewhere very far away so I can scream really, really, loud,” clarified Twilight. “Get moving, Captain.”
Captain Shining Star nodded and disappeared in a flash.
Twilight watched as Blueblood stood there staring dumbfounded at the carriage as it pulled away, wrapped in her magic. In a moment he surprised her by breaking into tears.
“Princess Twilight, don’t leave me!” he called out.
“Who gave you the bill, Blueblood?” asked Twilight as coldly as possible.
Blueblood started limping after the carriage as fast as his battered body appeared to let him move. “The bill? But… wasn’t I supposed to—”
“Ambassador, I need a name. Now!”
“I-It was Senator Underhill!” Blueblood blubbered.
Twilight stopped the carriage with her magic. She did a quick head count of the Equestrian Delegation in her carriage. One was missing. Twilight’s jaw tighten as righteous fury overtook her.
“Do you know how?” asked Twilight.
Blueblood caught up, panting and out of breath as he shook his head. “Princess, please, I was instructed to ensure that the Telegraph Project receives the support of the Empress, no matter the cost. That dreadful thing, that bill, was given to me to use as a trump card.”
Twilight evaporated in an instant, and reappeared beside Blueblood. She turned her head and called out to those in the carriage as her magic once again wheeled it away. “Take the train back to Canterlot. Don’t leave until all the VIPs are safely aboard. I need to see to something.”
Not having much of a choice in the matter, the others nodded as their carriage sped away.
After a moment’s silence, the former Ambassador to the Crystal Empire turned to the Princess, smiling through his crocodile tears. “It was Underhill who gave it to me. He said it was your orders. I thought I had no choice.”
“There is always a choice, Blueblood,” replied Twilight with some dryness. “Your duty as Ambassador was to facilitate peace and cooperation between two nations. To represent a nation as a whole, not to make threats and strongarm others into playing our way.”
“I understand that, Princess, and I truly apologize for what I’ve done here today,” said Blueblood as he pawed at the ground.
“It’s a start,” replied Twilight. “But you will also make a formal and a public apology to Empress Rarity, do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” replied Blueblood. “Uhh, no pun intended, Your Majesty.”
“Excellent. Get yourself on the next carriage and onto that train Blueblood. I expect to see you in my office at the Senate first thing tomorrow morning. I’m going to see the good Senator Underhill.”
Blueblood bowed, wincing as his visibly achy body resisted the effort. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
Twilight didn’t say another word as she walked away from Blueblood, her wings flaring out as she shot up into the night sky. A second later, the dim roar of the sound barrier being broken echoed throughout the city.
* * *
“Check,” said Blueblood as he sat back, knocking a hoof on the dirt. A smile stretched across his face as he took a deep breath of the cool night air, and looked up to admire the night sky for a job well done. He heard a slight rustling of wings and felt a warm body land next to him.
“There goes years of planning,” grimly remarked Sandy Gale.
“What?” snorted Blueblood, not bothering to look over at the changeling. “Years of planning? Sandy, this night couldn’t have gone better.”
“But without you as Ambassador...”
“Everything moves forward as planned,” finished Blueblood. “We have gotten what we needed, and everything is right with the world.”
“I… yes, my Lord.”
“Is the portrait back in Canterlot?”
“I just got back from delivering it, personally.”
“You’re quick. I admire that.” he replied, draping a foreleg over the disguised changeling and ignoring her shudder. “Here’s where the game gets interesting.”
* * *
As Blueblood and his undercover changeling agent limped away, they put on a show for the eyes that they knew were watching. But some eyes were unexpected. Like the yellow pair that watched them from a nearby crystal willow.
A lion’s paw popped out from behind the willow’s trunk, fished a small bag of popcorn out of its branches, and pulled the bag back behind the tree with bemused laughter. “Interesting,” cackled Discord as he munched on the popcorn. “Most interesting indeed.”