“But, Applejack—”
“Don’t you ‘but’ me, missy, I told you I ain’t wearin’ that!”
Rarity held out the dress once more, displaying it at full length. It was a darling little number from last spring; inspired by Applejack herself, actually. The reds and greens were just perfect to bring out those gorgeous eyes...
Or, they would be, if Applejack would hold still for a moment.
“She is going to love it, Applejack! Now, please hold still?” Rarity made another attempt to levitate the dress over Applejack’s head, which the farmpony quickly dodged.
“Nothin’ doin’! I went along with the makeup, and they did a darned good job with the braid, but this is goin’ too far!” Applejack imposed a chair between herself and the floating dress. “Thank ya kindly, but no thanks!”
“But it’s for Rainbow,” Rarity pleaded, making another attempt to land the dress over Applejack’s head. “You’re going to look so nice for her.”
“I already told ya I ain’t that happy with little Miss ‘Can’t-keep-her-eyes-to-herself’ anyhow!” Applejack thrashed her head just as Rarity had finally managed to land the dress, snorting angrily. “Honestly, I’m startin’ to think this whole plan was a waste. She... she ain’t gonna change.”
Rarity held up the dress for a moment longer, then laid it down across the nearest ponniquin. “Applejack, this was never about changing Rainbow, you know that.”
“And why ain’t it?” Applejack demanded. “Why ain’t she gettin’ a dress pulled over her? Why should I have to impress that bull-headed, good-fer-nothin’ hayseed?” She angrily slapped her hat back on top of her head. “Why ain’t I gettin’ flowers, or chocolates, fer goodness sake? Why ain’t she walkin’ on eggshells, or crawlin’ down on her belly beggin’ me to forgive her sorry hide?”
“Well...” Rarity began, sitting down since it seemed trying on dresses was not going to happen for the moment. “Have you told her that you’re upset?”
“’Course not!” Applejack snapped. “She ain’t actually done anything ‘cept kiss Pinkie, and she was awful sorry about that!”
“But she’s making you feel uncomfortable, and you’ve begun questioning your attractiveness,” Rarity persisted, leaning forward almost subconsciously as a show of her willingness to listen now that Applejack had broken down enough that the mare was willing to really talk to her. “While they may not be as big or spectacular as kissing another mare, those things are equally, or perhaps even more damaging. She has done something wrong, and you should confront her about it.”
Her friend sat down with a huff, and proceeded to fume for a time, staring at the floor and wringing her poor braid in her hooves like it was a wet towel. “But what if she don’t like that?... I don’t wanna be the kinda marefriend that’s always jealous of everypony,” Applejack said at last, her voice still sounding hot with anger but simultaneously uncertain. “It ain’t fair to hold a pony accountable for things she ain’t doin’.”
“Oh, but it’s fine to take your anger out on poor Lily?” Rarity demanded with a flash of indignation in her eyes.
For a moment, Applejack looked ready to blow her top again, but after opening and closing her mouth several times and biting back what was sure to be heated retorts, she took a deep breath and said: “No. No, that wasn’t right.”
“Exactly. And, like it or not, you are that sort of marefriend.”
Applejack snorted humorlessly at that, but offered no rebuttal.
“So, for the Lilies of the world—” Rarity put a hoof under Applejack’s chin, and tilted it upwards to force the other mare to look her in the eye “—who, I would remind you, committed no worse crime than existing as somepony to be ogled—” Applejack winced at that, but nodded slowly nonetheless “—I’m afraid you’re going to have to bite the bullet and admit that to Rainbow, preferably before you chase off your entire customer base.”
“Awright, awright, dangit. I get you.”
They were both silent for a time, Rarity trying not to overburden her friend with revelations about herself and Applejack presumably coming to terms with said truths.
“So, what was all this about, then?” Applejack asked finally.
“All what, darling?”
Applejack waved her braid around in her hooves. “The hair, the makeup, the dress. If you didn’t want me all dolled-up for Rainbow, why go to the trouble?”
“Oh, that.” Rarity waved a hoof dismissively. “Just look in the mirror.”
Applejack looked at her curiously for a moment before she obediently turned in the mirror. “Kay. What am I am I supposed to be seein’?”
“You’re looking at a mare that is far more pretty than Lily, wouldn’t you say?”
“I...” Applejack frowned at the mirror, inspecting it carefully. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “I mean, I look good... I guess. But I feel like a danged fool.”
“Darling, you have a harsh task ahead of you. It’s going to be difficult enough telling her how you feel, and you should take every advantage you can get.” Rarity looked her over, rubbing her chin with a hoof. “Besides, with the right dress, and perhaps a corsage, she won’t even want to look at other mares anymore.”
Applejack continued to look at the mirror, sparing a glance at the dress hanging over the ponniquin. Eventually, she turned away from it with an even deeper frown. “And what do you call that?” she said, pointing at the mirror. “Cuz all I see is another mare she’d be looking at instead of me!”
“Applejack—”
Applejack angrily scrubbed away the makeup, leaving smears of eyeliner and rouge all over her hooves and face. “Stupid... I can’t believe I let you talk me into this...” She pulled at the tie at the bottom of her braid, only to be thwarted by a blue glow.
“Applejack, don’t do that!”
“It ain’t me! None of it! Just a bunch of hooey!” Applejack spat, glaring at Rarity defiantly.
“You’ve worn braids before, Applejack! Don’t ruin it just because you’re upset,” Rarity pleaded. “Maybe the makeup was a bit much, and you don’t have to wear the dress, even if you would look gorgeous. But please, leave that?”
“What’s it to you how I look?” Applejack demanded. “I ain’t gonna change who I am just to satisfy her. If I ain’t good enough, she can find somepony else.”
Rarity took a deep breath, trying to settle her nerves. “Applejack, the mane styling, the makeup, the dress... None of that was ever really for her at all.”
“Huh?” Applejack’s eyes flicked momentarily to the mirror, and she winced as she saw what a mess she’d made of herself. “Who’s it for, then? You? You just wanted to see me all made up for once?”
“I admit I’ve always wondered how you would look if you put as much effort into your looks as you do with your manual labor,” Rarity admitted with a small grin, levitating a few makeup-removing wipes from her desk and cleaning up Applejack in much the same way she often did for Sweetie Belle after she’d made a mess of herself. “But it wasn’t for me, either. It was for you.”
Applejack just looked at her, one eyebrow raised high. “Really? What in the hay were ya thinking?”
“Oh, please,” Rarity said, cleaning up Applejack’s hooves next. “You badly needed a bit of bolstering, Applejack.”
“And what exactly do you mean by that?”
“I mean, my stock in trade is making ponies feel beautiful, and you were feeling like something on the bottom of somepony’s hoof after they took a stroll around your dairy barn. I couldn’t very well have one of my best friends feeling like that,” Rarity replied, then clucked her tongue. “I was hoping a little pampering might help settle you, but I went a little overboard, I suppose. Ah well.” She pointed at the mirror. “Now, we have all the artifice removed. Only you remain. Look at yourself and tell me again that you’re not the most gorgeous mare ever.”
Rarity’s compliment resulted in a very red-faced Applejack, and thankfully not because of anger this time. “Quit pulling my leg, Rare. I appreciate the thought, but I know what I ain’t.” She did look at the mirror, however. After a moment, a slow smile grew on her face. “I guess the braid’s okay.”
“It looks darling on you, Applejack! Very attractive, but also severe. It’s a look that is very no-nonsense.” Rarity tossed away the wipes soiled with Lotus’s hard work, sighing dramatically. “Well, it was a nice thought, anyway.”
“Sorry, Rare. I just... I don’t wanna win her back with lies.” Applejack resettled her hat, looking in the mirror. “It’s me, or nothing.”
“Win her back?” Rarity asked curiously. “Now who’s being dramatic? She hasn’t left you, darling.”
Her friend said nothing for a very long time, so long that Rarity feared she had said the wrong thing again.
“Then why does it feel like she did?” Applejack said at last, shaking her head. “I should’a known better. She told me straight out she liked lookin’. An’... it didn’t used to bother me. Not till...”
“Until you saw that she was capable of being physically affectionate with another pony. A pony who she is close with as well?” Rarity prompted.
“Yeah, ‘til Pinkie.” Applejack smiled bitterly. “That was the worst of it. I couldn’t get mad at her or Dash. She was hurting so bad, and she needed somepony.”
Rarity took that in stoically, her heart aching to know that Pinkie had been so hurt, even if that was no longer the case. “But Lily you could get angry with, because she wasn’t Pinkie.” She just looked at Applejack for a time, unsure what to do. Eventually, she closed the gap between them, embracing her. “Darling, I’m afraid that confirms it. You are very much the jealous type.”
“I don’ wanna be, though,” Applejack said, returning the embrace. “I just get to thinkin’ about Rainbow lookin’ around and seein’ other mares, and even knowin’ she won’t do nothin’...”
“It upsets you. It’s not a nice feeling to believe your partner might wish to jump into bed with another, even if she does not choose to act on it.”
Rarity stiffened as soon as the last of her words left her mouth. This was... familiar, somehow. As if she’d been in a similar conversation recently.
“Are we still arguing over whether I find her attractive? Let’s set the record straight, I do find her attractive, and so do you! But that doesn’t mean that I would pick her over you, darling! Why would you ever think such a thing?”
“Because she’s... not me! I can’t help thinking about it. She’s just so... I tried to get over it, but every time I think about you and her... I can’t lose you.”
“Rare? You okay?” Applejack asked from somewhere.
“Yes...” Rarity replied, shaking herself. “Sorry, I just remembered something else.” She released Applejack from her grip, smoothing the stray hairs in the straw-blond mane. “Well, I think you have a marefriend to talk to. I suggest you sit her down, and very carefully explain what’s been happening to you.”
And I suppose I need to do the same with mine.
After reluctantly agreeing that taking Applejack accessory-shopping would be fruitless considering she wasn’t going to wear the dress (a fact that still rankled slightly, even if she did understand that Applejack needed to feel confident of her own attractiveness; the dress was perfect for her) Rarity bid her friend good luck, hugging her one final time when she looked unsure.
Rarity would have gone along with her, but there were some conversations that needed to happen between marefriends in privacy. Besides, her uncertainty aside, Applejack was not some little foal who needed her hoof held when she needed to do something difficult. She had simply required somepony to pick her up and dust her off, so to speak.
She put Applejack’s dress back in her luggage. She’d be back for her wardrobe and beauty supplies later, but for now she had the unhappy duty of informing Princess Celestia that perhaps she might wish to do something about the media debacle surrounding her sister’s actions.
She also hoped to probe Pinkie Pie for a little more information regarding what had happened over the course of the last couple of days. It had occurred to her that while Pinkie had been telling her about what had happened to her and Twilight, Rarity herself had in turn been doing the same. But in her memory, while Pinkie had seemed clear enough, her own words had seemed a blur. Which made sense, in a way; she had been focused on Pinkie’s words, whereas her own had been inconsequential to her, as she was merely relaying experiences of her own and she already knew the things she was relaying.
The circumstances were baffling to her. She had of course heard of ‘blackouts’; anypony who was acquainted with Berry Punch had been regaled at least once of such experiences (thankfully, Berry had cut back on her consumption ever since little Pinchy was born), but she wasn’t quite sure there was a precedent for what she was going through now.
Of course there isn’t. You’re a medical mystery. Future textbooks will call it ‘The Rarity Syndrome’. Symptoms include memory loss followed by odd recalled flashes of perfect clarity at random times. Consult one of the Princesses, or don’t, as the condition was likely caused by at least one of them, and they’ll likely be working on curing you with large amounts of magic.
She smirked humorlessly to herself as she locked the door to the shop. Well, maybe with a little humor, if she was being honest with herself. It was difficult to not be just a little amused. She was, after all, healthy and happy despite what could have been a life-ending condition, and the only repercussions were the occasional snippets of the lost time being returned to her at odd moments. As far as medical conditions went, it was a slight inconvenience at best.
As she made her way back to the library, she found herself dearly hoping that an entry in some medical text was not the only mark she would make on history. She’d much rather it be for some revolutionary new fabric, or a dress line that changed the industry as a whole. Though if she was honest with herself, she would still likely be remembered most as one of Twilight’s five companions, despite her other accomplishments in life. There were worse things to be known for.
So morbid. I should probably finish the business of piecing my life back together before I begin worrying about how it ends.
For that to happen, she was going to need that document Luna had promised her. Only now did it occur to her to wonder why Luna hadn’t sent it along with her reply. The ability to send documents back and forth by magic was quite convenient, after all.
Wait, idiot. It’s not as if she has important ancient documents lying around in hoof’s reach for just such an occasion. Where would she put them? Right next to the holy weapons to dispel ancient evil and the keys to the royal treasury?
Right, so in all likelihood Luna would have to procure the document from wherever the royal equivalent of a blank check was kept. She’d likely encounter the dreaded red tape of bureaucracy, and promptly cut through it with barbaric threats of violence and/or imprisonment.
Possibly some actual violence as well, if the newspapers were to be believed.
She found herself feeling flushed for some reason, and briefly was very much in want of some quality time with Fluttershy. But that would have to wait, sadly.
“Hello? Terribly sorry to intrude again so soon,” she called into the library. She spotted Twilight and the Princess at a table stacked high with books, and made her way over to them. “Ah, there you are!” She looked around expectantly, her face falling just a little when the third pony she expected to find was absent. “Oh, but where is Pinkie Pie?”
“She had to get back to work. The Cakes are very understanding employers, but she’s been gone for several days and they badly needed a day off themselves,” Twilight replied, closing the text she had been reading and getting another down from a different stack.
“Right... the blessing and curse of not being self-employed. Steady work, but you don’t get to make your own hours.” Rarity shook her head at her own lack of perception. “Well, no matter. What are we doing?”
“Twilight is researching methods of magic recovery that haven’t been needed in thousands of years. And I am reading the latest offerings of Miss Yearling. Something about a goblet this time, though the excitement is more in the acquisition than the actual object.” Celestia smiled happily, turning the page. “I never seem to have enough time to read for pleasure. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed it.”
“Oh!” Rarity replied, both surprised and pleased. “Well, if you need any recommendations, there was this lovely series of historical fiction—”
There was a gasp from Twilight, followed by a book being quickly closed with a snap. “Y-you aren’t talking about—”
“Hearth’s Aflame,” Rarity supplied, nodding happily. “You know the one, Twilight.”
“Oh?” Celestia asked, looking up from her novel. “Is it any good?”
“Well, the characterization was a little questionable at times,” Rarity said airily, stars in her eyes as she remembered the novel that had helped change her life. “But only during the racy scenes, and really, who knows what Princess Platinum was really like in her boudoir—”
“I think we could find you something more appropriate, Princess!” Twilight interjected quickly, shaking her head with enough force to dishevel her mane.
“They really played up the scandal angle quite a bit!” Rarity went on, not even noting Twilight’s concern. “Was it really so unheard of for Platinum to take a lover?”
“Achieving harmony between the tribes was only the first step, Rarity,” the princess replied with all the gravitas that comes from teaching for more generations than most ponies could conceive of. “Interbreeding was not a common practice for several generations, and while rumors abounded, Platinum was smart enough to keep her indiscretions private. Which of her affairs was the book about?”
“Wait wait wait! Are you two actually talking about some trashy romance novel like it’s real history?” Twilight asked, growing increasingly distraught.
“Errr, Private Pansy?” Rarity replied to Celestia, equally surprised. “Are you saying there is a kernel of truth in there?”
“Hmmm.” Celestia appeared to be deep in thought for a moment, eventually shaking her head. “I’m not denying the possibility, as the founders were quite close after the kingdoms were established, but I hadn’t heard of such. There were rumors of Puddinghead and Platinum, but the maids loved to spread gossip, and very little of it was true.”
Twilight was silent for some time. Eventually, she got up and, without saying a word, walked upstairs.
“Twilight?” Celestia asked, concern in her voice. “Where are you going?”
“I’m just going to... burn some things.” Twilight said without turning around.
When it became apparent that she was not joking, Rarity turned her bewildered gaze to Celestia. “Do you think she’s serious?”
Celestia nodded thoughtfully while watching Twilight disappearing up the stairs. “She never was very good with jokes.”
“Right,” Rarity said, standing up herself. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to stop—”
“Please don’t,” Celestia said, shaking her head.
“But she is going to burn things... in a library. Situated inside a tree. I don’t even know what she plans to burn and already everything about this plan sounds unwise.” Despite her protests, Rarity did sit back down, as one did not simply deny a princess for no reason.
“I think I do know,” Celestia said with infinite calmness.
“You do?” Rarity asked, growing curious. “What?”
“Let’s just say that I suspect Twilight won’t be pretending to be Princess Platinum anymore.”
Rarity thought about that for a time, unsure what Celestia meant. Her eyes widened as she finally came to understand. There was a deathly silence in the room, followed by a chair scraping on the floor as Rarity got up again. “Twilight! Don’t you dare—”
Her words were cut off by a magical force effectively muzzling her, and she turned around angrily to the source of the offending magic.
“Don’t,” Celestia said once more, less a request, and more of an order this time. “What she does now, she needs to do. Better for her to do it of her own volition than for Pinkie or myself to have to persuade her.”
When her muzzle was released, Rarity simply glared daggers at Celestia for a time. “She is burning clothing,” she said at last. “Costumes! Handcrafted masterpieces that cost somepony a lot of time and pain to get right! I should know; I’ve repaired the things often enough!”
Celestia returned her gaze with a slightly amused look. “Would you rather she donated them to be reused?”
Rarity gave that around two seconds thought before she felt her face burning furiously. “I see your point. Do you suppose she needs help?”
“I think she’ll want to do that on her own.” Celestia replied. “Here,” she said, reaching for something next to the book she’d laid down. “Luna sent this along not long after you left.”
Taking the proffered scroll, Rarity unfurled it to find exactly what she expected to find. “‘The bearer of this document is an emissary of the nation of Equestria, and is to be granted all needed monies, services, and accommodations. All costs will be recompensed in the currency of choice by the royal treasury. Simply touch the invoice along with the right appendage of the bearer of the document and the invoice will be sent telemagically to the Princess who signed this document—” Rarity stopped, puzzled. “What’s that bit about?”
“The Advocata is enchanted. Touching the royal seal with the invoice you need to be paid will make a perfect physical copy of it, and touching it with your hoof confirms that you authorize the expenditure,” Celestia replied, giving the scroll a little frown. “We never could manage to get the enchantment to just send the invoices to the accounting office, which was always troublesome, especially during tax season.”
“Oh.” Rarity eyed the document warily. “Well, that does reduce the number of complications. I wasn’t quite sure if I was meant to leave this with the pony who I was purchasing things from, thus necessitating one of these for every place I needed to shop.”
“We did try something of the like, at first. But not every country had a means of delivering invoices to us... the dragons in particular were very pushy, making the trip themselves and demanding payment on the spot, and roosting over one of our towers until the sacks of coins were produced.” Celestia sighed heavily. “And those were the polite ones. The impolite ones simply consumed the diplomat, sending us a letter in dragonfire confirming that the debt was paid.”
“That’s horrible!” Rarity said, drawing a hoof up to her chest in shock.
“The dangers of dragon diplomacy,” Celestia replied, shaking her head. “Such offences usually resulted in the rending of their wings, of course. As arrogant and greedy as they can be, their governing body is brutally efficient in dispensing justice to those who are unfair in their dealings. Pony lives are not as valued as draconic lives, but they are priced far higher than the basic cost of accommodation and upkeep. The difference was then forcibly taken from the hoard of said dragon, and delivered to their next of kin.”
Rarity suddenly found herself valuing Spike’s sense of honor and fairness more than she’d ever previously done.
“Well, enough of that,” Celestia said, touching the document with her horn. It lit briefly, and a series of vague shapes under the royal seal lit up in turn. Her deed done, Celestia sat back. “The runes are fairly high level magic, and they have to be attuned to the authorized pony. That’s why Luna sent it to me instead of just having it delivered with your materials. You now have to touch your hoof to the seal so that it will recognize you.”
Rarity reached out a hoof to touch the rune, but just before she did so, she hesitated. “Erm... this isn’t dangerous or anything, is it? I mean, forgive me, but what with the whole nearly-dying thing I feel I must ask...”
There was only silence in response, followed by a musical laugh that both made Rarity flush with embarrassment and grin broadly. Eventually there was nothing she could do but join in on the laughter.
When they’d finally gotten it out of their system, Celestia wiped her eyes with her hoof, giving one final weak chuckle. “I assure you, the only danger involved is to the treasury’s balance, but I understand your concern,” she answered at last.
Rarity pressed a hoof to her chest, taking deep breaths to quiet her wildly beating heart. She felt cleansed by the laughter, as if she’d finally acknowledged and laughed away the fears of what could have been. Fluttershy’s worries had seemed so odd to her before now, as if she was relaying fears about somepony else entirely. But despite her imperfect recollection, the danger had been real, and had been to her. Had the situation been reversed, and Fluttershy had been the one in danger, Rarity had to admit to herself she was not sure what she would have done to the pony who had caused it, princess or no.
Adding the fact that Fluttershy had seen Luna as a romantic rival and it became very clear why her love had been so unwilling to discuss the problems that had arisen between them. It was understandable, but also worrisome.
It’s all right. We’ll work up to trust. It’s unfair to assume she’s even capable of trusting me to that degree just because we’re a couple now.
But that would have to wait for now, as there was another pony she needed to talk with about Luna first. “Celestia, have you by chance read the paper this morning?” she asked as she touched her hoof to the royal seal, watching in interest as various runes lit up in response.
“I admit I’ve been reading lighter fare, since I’m not expected in court any time soon,” Celestia replied. “Any paper in particular?”
“Any of them, actually. They all have the same story, more or less.”
The princess’ eyebrows rose at that, and she brought one of the papers from its place among the periodicals, quickly scanning the headlines. “‘Prepubescent’? I may have to have a word with this newspaper about slander for the sake of comedy...” she said, her expression dark and ominous.
“I know! I said nearly the same when I saw it!” Rarity exclaimed. “Well, without the bit about the slander, I just thought it was a stretch.”
“And this is in every paper?” Celestia demanded, tapping the offending story meaningfully.
“Yes... there is some variation on the specifics, some making Luna out to be a demon, others barely even focusing on her as much as making note that they were waiting for you only to be chased off before you arrived...” Rarity winced at Celestia’s reaction to that. “B-but overall, the same events. And they are all nearly word for word when it comes to the displays in the skies.”
Celestia read over the rest of the story, finally putting the paper down with a deep sigh. “Well, I...” She fell silent, sighed again, and began anew. “Thank you for informing me.”
Rarity patiently waited for some sort of plan to be outlined, perhaps needing to inform Twilight and Pinkie that Celestia would be leaving. When none came, she coughed awkwardly, finally blurting out what she was thinking: “Um... is there anything you can possibly do?”
“Many things,” Celestia replied with a determined look in her eyes. “And if she’d asked me, I would go to her and clear things up with the press, and likely have the Herald print an apology for their horrible puns—”
“Oh, that sounds splendid—”
“But she didn’t ask. Which tells me she wishes to attend to matters in her own way. Given that she is my equal, and currently the sole ruler of Equestria... I will respect her wishes,” Celestia finished with an air of finality. “As much as she is my little sister, I will not demean her by stepping in without her requesting me to.”
Taking a moment to gather her jaw from the floor, Rarity regarded the princess with shock, not sure what to say. “Surely you should do something!” she said at last.
“I am doing something,” Celestia said, putting away the newspaper and folding one hoof over the other. “I’m resting, like I should be, and Luna is learning that she can’t just threaten ponies anymore, just like she should be. She has asked me as sovereign of the nation to take the time to recover before I return. If I swooped in and tried to calm the city down, I would undermine her in the worst possible way. We were meant to rule together. If I did as you suggest, she rules in name only.”
“Well... could you not offer some advice, at least? Send her a letter—”
“She is her own pony,” Celestia said, cutting her off. “I must allow her to find her way alone for a time, just as I did.”
“Yes, but that was because she was ban—” Rarity cut herself off with a snap, amending: “Because she was away. You are not. A little advice would do wonders in this situation. I mean, she threatened to destroy your city! What would you do if she’d made good on that?”
“I suppose I’d have to build a new capital,” Celestia mused. “Maybe something a bit closer to the ground this time, I think the lack of oxygen makes some of my nobles a bit less intelligent than they might have been otherwise.” Celestia’s expression brightened considerably, and she uttered: “Wait. That would clean the slate of most nobility, wouldn’t it? I could pick brand new families with morals and intelligence, or perhaps remove the hereditary nature of nobility altogether!”
“Are you actually in favor of mass murder?!” Rarity interjected. “Did... did I do this? Did you lose your mind along with the majority of your magic to make me well?”
The princess, who had been looking up at the ceiling with a dreamy look in her eyes, visibly shook herself. “What? No, my little pony!” She heaved a great sigh, picking up her book and setting it down next to her hoof. “I... I just get terribly frustrated with my gentry at times, and... occasionally I think how nice it would be if something horrible happened to all of them. Not usually fatal, of course.”
“You’re certain? This isn’t some prelude to you turning evil and enacting your hidden desires?” Rarity pressed.
“I have it on good authority that the extent of my hidden desires was to have the opportunity to snuggle my student. And... perhaps a few other things,” Celestia replied with a laugh. “But as long-lived and...” she glanced down at herself, amending what she’d been about to say. “Well, normally I’d have said powerful, but the well is a bit empty for now. The point is, I am a pony. I’m not perfect. Even I can feel a little vindictive at times.”
Rarity held the Princess’s gaze a moment longer, breathing a sigh of relief. “Forgive me. When a living goddess casually talks about such things it can make one nervous. Of course you would feel that way, I imagine. My own dealings with the elite have been... spotty, and even I can sympathize. So, you would never do it, but would Luna?”
“My sister is quick to anger, but I doubt she ever would. She likes her moon too much to sully it,” Celestia said with certainty. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
Somehow, some way, Luna had managed to drag herself out of bed, make herself presentable, and survive court. She’d kept her cool despite numerous fools presenting grievances of so little import that it had been all she could do not to order their imprisonment. But she’d survived, and was able to relax for a time.
That was, until she read the first headline. Then the next, and the one after, and the one after that.
Luna read the Canterlot Gazette with mounting anger. She had spared these ponies, despite their insolence, and this was how she was repaid? Perhaps she should have brought the moon down after all. She had no fondness for this city, and the old castle was in better shape than she could ever have hoped, after all. She often missed the solitude they used to enjoy, back when it was just her and Tia, and the occasional unlucky supplicant falling into one of their many traps. Those idiots who had dared slight her wouldn’t have ever gotten past the front gate.
She slammed the periodical on top of a stack of its like. “We want them all! Every last one of them!” Luna screamed at Midnight Oil. She glanced at the stack of papers, setting them aflame in an audible fwoosh. “Fire... yes. That will do.”
“You... you want to burn the Press Corps?” Midnight asked, his face ashen.
“What?” Luna looked up from the conflagration on her desk. “No, We wish the papers gathered and burned.”
“Errrrm... Well... that’s slightly better...”
“The Press Corps We want executed.”
“Majesty, you simply cannot just—”
“Each of them will be armed with a pen, and Our guards with swords. We have always wanted to test the validity of that old saying.”
“The last execution was centuries ago...”
“Make them wear little hats that say ‘I am a very bad listener.’ We wish the people to know for what reason they die.”
“They would need a trial, at least—”
“We wish it to be a grand event. We need a stadium in which many ponies may gather to witness the justice.” Luna thought for a moment. “Ah! The Wonderbolts have such a location, do they not?”
Midnight did not answer for a time, tossing back several pills and washing them down with a glass of water. “Princess, the stadium you speak of is meant for pegasus events. The majority of the Press Corps are unicorns.“
“Hmmm, that does pose logistical problems. We do wish for them to give Us a spectacle, but dropping them from the sky to splat on the ground is not satisfactory.” Luna paused again. “Wait! Our sister told Us of a spell Twilight Sparkle employed to allow her friends to walk upon the clouds. We will fill the area with a suitable cloudbank, enabling our prisoners to fight without falling to their doom!” She smiled happily. “Yes, that will work!”
“Majesty, you cannot make ponies fight to the death for your amusement!” Midnight shouted, slamming both hooves down on the ground.
There was a deathly silence, followed by a quiet yet dangerous voice demanding: “Midnight Oil, art thou denying Us Our right to have justice done on behalf of Our nation?”
“Well... that is... I...” His ears laid back as he returned her gaze, but eventually, he nodded slowly. “Princess Celestia declared me her voice, Princess Luna, and as the only voice of reason in this room with the authority, I’m afraid I must say that no, you cannot do what you propose.”
She held his gaze for a moment more, but when he refused to back down she finally relented. “Can We at least have them all whipped?”
“We can demand a retraction, and ask for a meeting with the press to give a proper statement,” Midnight replied, not even deigning to answer her question.
“Thou proposes to gather the self-same idiots who slandered Us to begin with?” Luna felt a small smile grow on her face once more. “Very clever, Middy! Yes, gather them together, and We shall give them the address they deserve!”
“I’m afraid not, Highness,” Midnight replied. “I’m going to give the address myself, to ensure they get it right this time.”
Luna sat quietly for a moment, regarding him suspiciously. “Art thou trying to usurp the throne, Midnight?”
“No, Your Majesty. I am simply doing what your sister asked of me. No more, no less.” He reached out from across the desk, laying a single hoof on hers. “I understand that you feel slighted, Princess. But ruling often means being the bigger pony, no pun intended. Let me help you in this matter.”
“Thou would let them go unpunished,” Luna complained. “They have failed in their duties, and go off to print what they wish. That should not be allowed to happen.”
“And it will not, Highness. Trust me, there are ways to punish such ponies.”
Luna’s eyebrows rose at that. “You have a plan?”
“I do,” Midnight answered, a small smile growing on his aged lips that was soon answered in Luna’s own expression.
“Tell me, Middy,” Luna demanded. “Tell me how you will obtain justice for your Princess.”
“Simplicity itself. We ask for each of the papers to gather a representative...”
“Yes?”
“But we set a single condition.”
Luna began to look impatient. “Middy, I am not hearing a lot of vengeance—”
“I was getting to that, Highness.”
Luna bristled, but nodded. “Very well. Proceed.”
“All we have to do in order to humiliate every single one of those ponies—”
“Yes?!” Luna asked, growing ever more excited.
“—is to ask each of them to send their most junior member of the staff,” Midnight finished, a rather smug look on his face.
“Midnight?”
“Yes, Highness?”
“Thou art an idiot.”
Midnight smiled patiently at her. “Majesty, imagine you have spent your life rising up the ranks of a cutthroat industry. You have landed a very prestigious position, reporting the very word of the Crown. Now imagine you are passed up by the overeager mailroom pony with stars in his eyes.”
“I... I would be wroth,” Luna admitted. “I would feel as if my place in life had been stolen unfairly, and would plot against—”
“That’s the point. Those ponies have their positions by the grace of the Crown. We can ask their employers to send a new representative, and bar entry to the offending parties.”
“Thus ruining their reputations!” Luna clapped her hooves together with delight. “Yes, Middy! Your Princess is pleased! But...”
“Yes, Princess?”
“May We not have a few of them whipped? Just as a warning to the others?” Luna asked, giving him her very best impression of Tibbles with his wide eyes and pleading mouth he would use to make her give him more food from her plate.
“Well...” Middy said, clearly hesitant to deny her. But it seemed her pleas fell on deaf ears as he looked away from her. “No, Your Majesty. I... I have been remiss in my duties, trying not to interfere with your rule, but... you must try to use more compassion. If not for their sake, try to do so for your sister.”
Luna bit back the retort that her sister was not the perfect pony he seemed to think she was, as her sister was no stranger to anger and only a will of solid steel kept any hint of it from showing. But there was one pony whose opinion of her would grow even worse were she to enact public vengeance. Perhaps mercy was warranted, so long as some form of justice was delivered to those who had wronged her in turn.
“Very well, Middy. We shall allow you to perform your office as Our sister bid you,” she said at last. “We would ask for a list of the press ponies who are responsible for the slander to Us, so that We may bid Our guard to forbid them entry in the future.”
“Of course, Princess,” Midnight replied with a smile. “I’ll see that the list is gotten straight away. And I’ll arrange a new press conference for this afternoon. Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Nay. Thank thee, Midnight,” Luna replied, answering his smile with her own. “Thank thee for thy patience with Us. Mayhaps We need to emulate Our dear sister in one respect, at least.”
Still, perhaps a small visitation to the dreams of those ponies was warranted.
She looked dourly at the pile of ash on her desk. Relaxation time had been spoiled. Even the thought of snacks no longer held any of the lustre it was normally imbued with.
Perhaps a visit to Tibbles?
As much as the thought appealed, she forebore. Tibbles was sleeping, and while he would welcome her affection, she knew well that having one’s sleep disturbed was unpleasant. Tia’s schedule was very inconvenient for her.
She did, however, have other friends who were not generally as nocturnal. Friends who had, in fact, requested her presence whenever it was convenient for her, and while she would normally visit them for more carnal pleasures, surely a social visit would be pleasant.
“Middy, doest thou mind terribly if We slip away for a time?”
Midnight looked up from the scroll he was scribbling on, confusion writ large on his face. “Well, not mind, as such. I did assume you’d want to be present at the press conference...”
“Nay, We trust you to handle the matter. We have had enough of the press for a time.”
“Shall I fetch you a guard escort?”
Luna shook her head. “We will not be long, Middy. Mayhaps We will be back in time to hear thee regale Us with thy speech.”
“Oh! Well, it’s not done yet. And it won’t be anything special, just a statement to set the record straight on a number of points, and a few admonishments to the former members of the Press Corps...”
“We look forward to it,” Luna said, standing up. “For now, We shall leave thee to thy preparations. We shall see thee before We raise the moon.”
“Very well. I’ll have the kitchen send up a light meal.”
Luna paused at the door. “Oh! Could you—”
“I’ll have them prepare a small plate for Tiberius, yes,” Midnight said without looking up from his scroll.
Luna smiled warmly. Middy was getting a very, very large raise.