Climbing the Mountain

by Talon and Thorn

Welcome to the Night Court

Mounty Max did not sleep well that night. Maybe it was the strange bed, or the excitement of being in Canterlot, or more likely something else. Whenever he managed to drop off, he was haunted by the feeling of soft pink hair brushing his muzzle and the scent of flowers, and he would awake sweaty and wrapped in his sheets.

It was ridiculous that he was being affected like this. He’d only met her for a few hours and she was a powerful and beautiful noble and, well... he wasn’t; there was no way she would ever feel the same way about him. She was just supposed to be showing him around court like a guide or teacher, not anything more. Unbidden, his mind floated back to Miss Punctuation, the traveling tutor he’d studied under as a foal. He’d been quite smitten with her, and rumours (quite unfounded in the end) among the other older foals that she provided special lessons to certain lucky colts on the cusp of stallionhood didn’t help. She’d been surprisingly understanding when he’d turned up with flowers, but had gently, yet firmly, set him straight on the matter. It had been one of the most awkward and embarrassing moments of his life. He didn’t want to repeat it.

Knowing that he likely had a long day – and night – ahead of him, Max tried to sleep in, but after lying awake for several hours he found himself rising well before noon. Opening the window, he looked out over the city stretching down the mountain below him. It seemed so large; there were so many ponies around, more than he’d seen in his whole life. The streets seemed to throng with them. Earth ponies, unicorns, the air was full of pegasus all hustling and bustling along their way. In a way it made him feel rather small, just one part of this metropolis; in another, he felt a little lonely. So many ponies around, and he knew so few of them. Still, he could change that easily enough.

With further sleep seeming impossible, Max ventured into the bathroom. As he had expected, there were far more grooming products than he was used to, many with strange and foreign sounding names. Picking one more or less at random, he started to lather up his coat. Fragrant had suggested he move to a different hotel, but this one seemed to provide all he needed. He supposed sooner or later he’d need to find somewhere to live permanently in the city, but that would be something for a later date. For today he had other jobs to do; the notes he’d received with his letter of appointment had mentioned he had offices prepared in the castle, so he should probably set up there as soon as possible. Maybe he could also spend some time looking around the city, getting to know the place. He should probably buy some formal clothes as well; he assumed that the court went fully dressed most of the time and he didn’t want to show himself up. After all, he represented all of Nulpar now. Then of course in the evening he would meet up with Fragrant again and she could show him around court… he hoped he wouldn’t embarrass her again; she had been so kind last night, putting up with his eccentricities.

After drying himself off, Max made his way next door and knocked on the door of the room occupied by Mrs Gobhar. To his surprise, there was no answer. He tried again; still no response. Maybe she had already gone to breakfast? It was far later than they would normally start off a morning. He trotted down to the hotel’s restaurant and somewhat to his relief found her sitting there sipping from a cup of tea.

“Ah!” she said. “You're finally up, I was going to check if you were all right. When did you get in last night? Did you do something to tire yourself out?” She winked.

Blushing slightly, Max sat down opposite the old goat. “The court is nocturnal, so most of their business goes on at night. We’re going to have to get used to that.” A waiter sidled up to him and passed Max a menu. He was glad they seemed to serve at all times; he had been afraid he might have missed breakfast. Looking down, he didn’t recognise most of the dishes on offer. He might normally have experimented with something new but he remembered the meal from last night – and the problems it had caused – and decided it was probably better to play it safe for the moment. “Hay bacon, eggs and toast, please,” he said. With a bow the waiter shuffled off.

“You should try the croissants and devilled eggs,” suggested Mrs G. “I’d never eaten them before, but they were wonderful, although the service was a bit slow.”

“I’d prefer something I’m used to. Last night’s meal was a bit of a surprise.”

“How did your date go?”

Max’s blush brightened. Had his infatuation with Fragrant been that obvious? “It was a business meeting, not a date. It was very interesting, she runs a cloud city, you know, and she’s on all sorts of interesting committees,” he gushed.

“I hope you at least walked her home,” teased Mrs G.

“No, she went to court once we finished.”

“Your food, sir,” said the waiter, floating a plate and rack of toast onto the table.

“Thank you,” said Max.

“Quicker service than I got,” mumbled Mrs G.

“Well they’re less busy now,” noted Max, looking around the deserted restaurant as he started on the eggs.

“I suppose so. So what are we going to do today?”

“I think we better try and find our offices in the castle first of all, I’m sure there will be lots to do there. Maybe look around town a bit. I arranged to meet Fragrant again tonight to talk about the court.”

“Your second date already? You work fast, dear.”

“Look, there is nothing between me and Duchess Posey,” said Max firmly. “She is a beautiful, intelligent and witty courtier, whereas I’m a rather scruffy mayor from the furthest corner of Equestria. She has been kind enough to help show me my new duties but nothing beyond that.”

The old goat laid her hoof on top of Max’s. “I’m sorry if I upset you dearie, but you shouldn’t put yourself down. You’re a fine figure of a stallion, I think. I’ve never really seen much in ponies, unlike the second Mr Gobhar,” she muttered darkly.

Max couldn’t help but giggle, and he passed the old goat a slice of toast which she slathered in butter before devouring. It was nice to know there was at least one person in the city he knew.

They sat together in companionable silence while Max finished his breakfast.

---

The trip to the castle took a little longer than Max had thought. It wasn’t as if they could lose sight of their destination. The grand visage of the royal palace loomed over most of the city, but there didn’t seem to be any direct route to it. All the roads seemed to twist and turn in on themselves, forming a confusing maze. The trip wasn’t helped by Max getting distracted several times by various sights; a few times Mrs G had to drag him out of shops and set him back on the path. By the time they arrived at the castle grounds, it was almost midday, and both were glad they could take cover from the Tyrant’s eye.

The castle was surprisingly quiet. He had expected it to be a constant hive of activity, the beating heart of Equestria. However, although there were various servants and guards moving around purposely, they were nothing compared to the actual size of the structure. He supposed, what with the court being nocturnal, most of them would still be asleep. Max felt a little intimidated as the two of them entered the main gate of the palace; it was at least a dozen times taller than a pony, and wide enough that the same number could walk alongside other through it. Mrs Gobhar didn’t seem as worried as her employer, casually following a body length of so behind him and looking around with some interest.

“Excuse me,” said Max to one of the servants standing off to one side just inside the gate. “I’m Mounty Max, err… Baron Mounty Max now, I suppose. I understand I have an office in the castle?” He held out the letter he had been sent.

“You’ll probably want the directory office, my lord,” said the servant. He pointed to a counter set into a wall a bit further into the palace.

“Thank you,” said Max before hurrying over to the indicated area. It consisted of a glass window with a slot in it, behind which sat an elderly mare wearing a rather elaborate uniform. “Baron Mounty Max,” explained Max. “I’m looking for my office.” He once again passed over his papers. The servant took the documents and looked a little surprised as she flicked through them.

“Excuse me a moment, my lord,” she said and disappeared into a side door for a moment before returning with a large book. She levitated it in front of her and started to flick through the pages. “Mounty Max... Marmoset... Massive... Megan... Montague... Ah, Mounty Max. Here you are sir, sub level 3, Hurricane Tower... Here’s your office’s number.” She scribbled a number on a piece of paper and passed it to Max, who took it in his mouth before placing it into his bags. “If you give me a moment, I can have somepony show you the way.”

“Oh, I don't want to be a bother, I’m sure I can find it myself.”

“If you’re certain...” the servant certainly didn’t sound sure.

“Yes, I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, I’d like to have a look around.”

The mare frowned, then shrugged. “As you wish. You’ll need to report to the guard first.” She gestured to a group of armoured ponies set up opposite, who had been observing Max as he entered the castle.

“Of course, thank you.” He bowed to the servant, who looked rather shocked for a moment before returning the gesture.

Max trotted over to the guard post and once again presented his papers to a large white coated unicorn stallion who seemed to be in charge. The guard read through the papers a little suspiciously, often stopping to look up at Max and Mrs G. “As this if your first visit and you’re a new member of the court, I’m afraid I’m going to have to carry a full check on you.”

Max’s ear flicked a bit in annoyance; he’d hoped to get an early start on setting up his office. “How long is it going to be?”

“We have most of your details on file…” Max frowned, wondering where they had gotten those from; maybe the rumours of a shadowbolt investigating him had been correct. “...but we have to be thorough, over an hour.”

Max opened his mouth to protest, then shut it; the guard was only doing his job. “Very well, no point in arguing, my friend Arctic always said she hated ponies who argued with the guard.”

“Arctic?” asked another of the guards, pricking his ears up. “Arctic Breeze?”

“Yes,” said Max in surprise. “Do you know her?”

“I went through basic with her, and we were in the same platoon for most of her service. She mustered out a few years ago, something about going home to marry her childhood sweetheart. I never knew she had a heart much less it was sweet,” he grinned.

“He’s called Sunbeam, and they’ve got a foal called Chilly. Her third birthday’s in a few weeks.” He’d have to remember to send a present, maybe a souvenir from Canterlot.

“The foal’s three? Arctic didn’t waste any time, did she?” Max remembered there had been a bit of a fuss about Arctic giving birth only a little more than eleven months after returning home. There had been even more of a fuss about her giving birth at her own wedding reception; it was just as well his mother had been a guest. “I remember she used to spend so much time climbing in the gym. ‘Arctic,’ I told her, ‘You’re a pegasus, why do you need to climb?’ ‘What if I break a wing?’ she said. Always a bit pessimistic but well prepared.”

“She did mention the climbing walls in the gym here. Err, you don’t suppose I could try them myself, do you? It is my mark.” He turned slightly to show his flank.

“Well, they’re supposed to be guard only… but I’m sure we can work something out, ask for Corporal Rock Steady and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks.”

“If you’ve finished, Corporal,” said the first guard pointedly, before turning back to Max. “As I said my lord, we have to carry out a full check to make sure you are who you seem to be and aren't under magical compulsion.”

“Start when you want,” said Max.

---

The check had taken longer than Max had hoped, but not as long as he’d feared. He had gotten a clean bill quickly, but there had been some problems with the scans carried out on Mrs G to ensure she was not enchanted in any way. Apparently they didn’t have to test many goats and weren’t used to the way their metabolism absorbed magic. Max hadn’t wanted to leave her behind, so he had waited while the officer had had to cast the spell several times, getting more and more frustrated until finally it had worked properly. The guard had seemed to find Mrs G’s placid temperament just as annoying. Still, they were through it all now and had identification spells cast on them to allow them to be identified by the guard, as well as paper passes to allow them access to the parts of the castle they would need.

They had set off into the depths of the castle to find their new office, and after half an hour or so Max was beginning to think he had been a bit hasty rejecting the servants the offer of a guide. The castle was huge; it seemed even larger on the inside than it had looked on the outside. Still, he knew they were in the Hurricane tower by the many statues of Equestria’s founder dotted about the place, and he was fairly sure this was the right floor as well. He checked the note; now he needed to find room sixty one. He trotted down the hall checking for numbers – most of the rooms had name plaques on them instead – he could introduce himself to his neighbours later once he’d settled in.

“Fifty six, fifty nine, sixty one, here we are,” he announced. “Our new home.” He swung the door open to reveal a room little larger than his office back in Sadlzberg. It was dark and there were no windows, and several desks were leaning against the far wall while a collection of chairs, filing cabinets and other furniture filled most of the room.

Mrs G peered in dubiously. “Are you sure this is it? It looks like a broom closet to me. Look!” she pointed at half a dozen brooms and mops leaning against a wall.

Max checked the number on the door again. “No, this is definitely it. They’re probably just here to let us clean out the place before we move in.” Carefully entering the room, he noticed a small pile of magical lanterns and picked one up – it activated at his touch – before hanging it from the ceiling. “See it’s not that bad. It could just use a little cleaning but its cosy, just like home.”

Mrs G still didn’t look convinced. “I wish it had a window. It’d be nice to be able to look out at the city.”

“Me too, but there must be only so much space in the castle, not every room can have a view. I guess a window is something we’d have to work up to. I’m new, so I won’t be getting the best office yet. Given time I’m sure we’ll get the best view in the whole city. Well, apart from Luna’s office.”

Mrs G smiled at his enthusiasm. “I’m sure you will, Max.”

“Right, we better get started. If you don’t mind starting to clean the floor, I’ll see about arranging the furniture.” With a shove, he pushed one of the desks onto its legs; it landed with a loud thud and he started to shove it across the floor with a grunt.

Mrs G watched her boss struggle with the errant office equipment for a moment. “I think you need a hoof there.”

“Don’t worry, *grunt* Mrs G *pant*, I’m sure I’ll get it done,” mumbled Max.

“After that guard spent all that time waving his aon-adharcach in my face, I’m sure I’m strong enough to help.”

Max frowned a little. He knew that goats were able to absorb background magic and use it to boost their strength, but Mrs G was still an old nanny; he didn’t want her to hurt herself. Still, he also knew how pointless it would be arguing with her. “Well, if you insist, but tell me if you want a break.” He put his back into lifting the desk again, hoping to take most of the strain off of his assistant.

Together the two of them managed to shift the two desks into position facing each other across the room, and then lined up half a dozen filing cabinets against one wall. Max thought they looked rather impressive, despite not having anything to put in them yet. By the time the office was starting to look serviceable, the afternoon was drawing on.

“If you want to do some shopping before you meet the Duchess, you better get on with it,” noted Mrs G.

“You’re right, I need to get some formal wear. Do you want to come?” asked Max.

“I think I’ll stay here. I can settle in and maybe look for somewhere to get something to eat,” said Mrs G, stretching out on her new chair. “I’ve never really seen the point of clothes, it’s not like your coat doesn’t keep you warm enough.”

“It’s more the look of the thing, Mrs G. I’m sure most of the court wear clothes all the time – it shows how important they are.”

“Well if you think it’s that important, then you better go and get something.”

“Okay, see you soon,” said Max waving a hoof as he left the new office.

---

The sun was beginning to dip as Max made his way through the teeming streets of Canterlot. His time was short but he couldn’t stop himself from browsing as he went. There was such a wide range of things to buy! Although the few shops in Sadlzberg provided most things a pony needed, the range of luxuries was low, and most had to be especially imported. Here there were shops for everything! Musical instruments, clothes, exotic foods, books, everything! Prices were mostly higher than he expected but not exorbitantly so – some were actually cheaper than he would pay in Nulpar. The shops even seemed to open almost 24 hours a day, presumably so they could both serve the nocturnal night court and the more normal schedules of those not native to the city.

Max’s first stop had been to purchase a map and tourist guide to the city; at least it should help him to find his way around. Then he had filled up his saddlebags with stationary. He guessed he would need a good number of quills and paper in his new role. Next he browsed a second hoof book store, where he found an old book entitled ‘The Rights and Responsibilities of the Nobility of the Night Court’ which he thought might be useful. Finally he actually got around to his primary objective, clothes. He found himself staring into the window of a store called ‘The Clothes Horse’ which seemed quite fancy; the windows were mostly full of dresses although one or two suits were present as well. It was odd, he thought, how mares seemed to wear such a wider range of clothes than stallions. Not that it was all bad; he remembered the red dress Fragrant had been wearing last night, and it had made her look stunning. A flash of red brought him out of his revelry. For a moment he thought it might be Fragrant again, but he realised he was mistaken; it was one of the costumes on display. It looked good, he thought.

Ten minutes later, he was out of the shop with a heavy bag gripped in his teeth. The outfit was more expensive than he’d hoped, but it had called to him, and he hoped Fragrant would approve. He checked the time; he had about two hours until he was due to meet the Duchess. Barely enough time to wash and change before returning to the castle. He broke into a gallop as he weaved his way through the crowds to his hotel.

---

Max turned this way and that, admiring himself in the mirror. He thought his new clothes made him look very dashing. The red coat was thick and practical, so it would keep out the winter chill, and the buttons and black and gold trimmings looked a little military to him. The black breeches and boots likewise made him look very formal and official. However, it was the hat that completed the outfit in his eyes. He normally felt a bit uneasy about ponies in hats; the lack of body language from their ears always made him feel as though they were hiding something. The brown felt stetson avoided this problem by having holes cut for those organs. Maybe his ears would get a little cold, but it would be clear what he was thinking. He hoped Fragrant would be suitably impressed.

Turning for the door, he hurried back up the mountain towards the castle.

---

“I’m back, Mrs G,” called Max as he entered their small office. He looked around, “You’ve done a good job here.” The room had been transformed; the desks and cabinets were polished and the other clutter had been lumped in a corner where it drew less attention. A few more lamps had been set up so the place was brightly lit.

“Hum?” said the old goat, looking up from a newspaper. “Oh it didn’t take too long. I had a little look around the castle as well. I found a nice young thing to help me, very energetic she was, she got me this.” She pointed at the paper in front of her. “It’s surprising what gets printed about the other nobles.”

“I’ll have a look at it later. Fragrant should be here soon.” He sat at his desk, enjoying the feel of it. In fact, just as he mentioned her name, his ears pricked up as he thought he heard the sound of her voice in the corridor outside.

Jumping up, Max weaving around the desks and rushing over to the door, he threw it open to reveal the Duchess and a thin blue pegasus stallion just about to walk past. The Duchess was once again fully dressed, this time in a sombre black dress stretched tightly over her form; it seemed quite stark to Max, almost funeral. “Duchess Posey!” he called before dashing over to her; he came to a sudden halt a few feet from the mare and gingerly held out a hoof in greeting. Posey twitched; for a single crazy moment Max thought she might embrace him like he had her last night, but then she shook her head and took his offered hoof.

“Good to see you again, Baron Max,” she said. “That is a rather impressive ensemble.”

Max couldn’t help a wide grin settling over his features. “Do you like it? I just bought it.”

“I think it looks quite… formal,” she used a wing to brush a speck of lint from the jacket and Max tried to suppress a shudder at her feathery touch. “I hope your day has gone well so far.”

“Oh yes, I’ve been settling in.”

She gestured to her companion. “This is Notebook, my personal assistant. I thought he could discuss his role with your assistant while I show you around court.” The stallion bowed stiffly.

“I’m sure your servant will pick up her duties quickly,” he said formally.

Max frowned slightly at the assistant’s choice of words, but put them aside for the moment and led Notebook and Fragrant into his office before gesturing around the room. “Here we are, home sweet home as it were.”

Fragrant scowled slightly. She realised that as the most junior member of the court Max would likely get a subpar office, but this was worse than she’d imagined. She would have to do something about this later.

“Excuse me my lord,” said Notebook. He paused for a moment apparently choosing his words carefully. “Why are you setting your office up in a storage room?”

“Storage room?” asked Max, looking puzzled.

“I told you!” cried Mrs Gobhar from behind him. “A broom cupboard!”

“Yes my lord, I know the layout of this area. Each floor has a number of offices and a storage room to keep any unused furniture and the like. This is the storage room.”

“Are you sure? I was given this room’s number.” Max passed the stallion the note the servant at the door had given him. Notebook stared at it for a moment before turning it around. “I believe you have been allocated room nineteen, not sixty one.”

“Oh,” said Max his face colouring at his mistake.

---

The main part of room nineteen, it turned out, wasn’t much larger than the storage room. Unlike the storage room, however, it was completely unfurnished apart from a large pile of letters and forms which had built up to almost a pony’s height just inside the door. Max looked at them and sighed before deciding to investigate the rest of the room first. There were two more doors behind which any sort of treasure could await. He tried the first, which led into an even smaller and also empty room.

“That is normally used to store records,” noted Notebook.

One more door to try, thought Max and he opened it. Beyond was another room, also empty, maybe a fraction smaller than the first; the only difference was a small window looking out through the rock of the Canterhorn itself onto the surrounding area.

“You can have this part Mrs G,” offered Max. “You said you’d like a view.” Notebook’s eyebrows shot up.

“Don’t be silly, dearie,” said Mrs G. “This is clearly the noble’s office, I need to be near the entrance if I’m going to be your secretary.”

“If you’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Right, I guess we need to move all that furniture into this office, then. It shouldn’t take too long. Then I better look at those letters.”

Fragrant cleared her throat. “I’m sure that Notebook will help Mrs Gobhar set up your office. He can show her how to arrange for furniture transportation, order stationary and the like.”

“Oh, we don’t need to worry about stationary, I bought some earlier.” He opened up his saddlebags to show her.

“You bought this yourself?” Fragrant sounded astonished and rubbed her face with a hoof. “You haven't used this to write anything official, have you?”

“Err, no, I haven't had anything to write yet. Did I do something wrong?”

“Good. There is very specific paper that must be used for all Night Court work and our agreement with the ink manufacturers is also very specific; all night court documentation must be written using a standard ink or we are in breach of contract. Even ink is a very serious business here, Baron Max.”

“I... I’m sorry... I didn’t know...” stuttered Max.

Fragrant sighed, “No harm done, it just shows how useful Notebook and I can be. Now if you would follow me I’ll show you to the court chambers. Not many outside of the court get to see them. I’m afraid I only have a few hours free to spend with you. I will be busy for most of the second half of the night.”

“Hang on, I am part of the court. Aren't I?” asked Max, sounding a little unsure.

“Well, actually, at this point your position is a little… transitional.”

“Did somepony make a mistake?” Max had always thought that there must be many others better suited for the position at court. Maybe he’d been right?

“No, it is just that the official timings were a little off,” said Fragrant kindly, as she noticed the flash of panic over his face. “You see, you have already been granted your position as Lord of Nulpar, but until you are formally ennobled by Luna next week, you are not technically part of the court, so you do not yet have voting rights or the other trappings of your rank. You should not really be here.”

“Oh, so should I come back next week?”

“No, of course not. I have formally recorded you as my guest, in the same way as various courtiers and members of the press are allowed access to the court. I have officially taken responsibility for you.”

“Oh, thank you, you really don’t have to go to all this trouble,” said Max with a grin.

“You are most welcome, Baron Max,” said Fragrant, her wings fluffing up a little. His gratitude brought a certain warmth to her belly. “Now, if you would follow me, I will show you around the court. If you have any questions just ask.”

“You’ll be all right with Mr Notebook?” said Max to Mrs G.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, have fun,” she replied, waving a hoof.

“Thank you again for spending this time with me,” said Max and he and Fragrant left the office.

“It is my pleas… honour to be able to help you, Max,” replied Fragrant.

Inside the office, Notebook and Mrs Gobhar stood staring at each other for a moment. Then the blue stallion’s posture relaxed and he dragged Max’s chair over to sit in front of the old nanny. “So. How’s yours?” he asked conspiratorially. “Mine’s alright but she can be a right bitch sometimes.”

---

“Wow!” said Max, looking around. “This is really the court chamber itself! It’s magnificent!”

Fragrant had led him through the more crowded halls of the castle and into her personal booth overlooking the large chamber where proposals were put before the court. It was minimally but comfortably furnished. The only ostentatious point was the chair made of clouds that Fragrant had perched on, tucking her legs daintily underneath herself. It had been a present from her brother for her last birthday, the first in a new line of product for his factories.

“I suppose it is,” she said a little uncertainly. After almost two decades of service to the court, this room was just a standard part of her life. “There is nothing of importance taking place at this time, so few of the court are present.” She pointed out the few other ponies sitting in boxes or in the seat below.

“Where do I sit?” he asked, craning his neck out of the box. Fragrant stretched out a hoof to steady him as it looked like he would topple out; that would be rather difficult to explain to the princess, although she had heard that a spell had been cast on the chamber to stop such accidents after a number of suspicious incidents a few hundred years ago. For a moment she admired the movement of muscles underneath her hoof before snatching the limb back as if burnt.

“Umm… as one of the junior members of the court I am afraid you don’t have a specific seat. You take a place on the ground level seating,” she gestured down. “Most likely near the back, unless you turn up very early or employ a seat warmer.”

“A what?”

“Them,” she said, pointing at a number of ponies sitting in the seats below. Many were reading books and most looked bored. “Servants specifically employed to reserve a seat for their master. On important days, competition for good seats can be very strong. Hoof fights have been known to break out,” she said with a gentle smile.

Max wasn’t sure if she was joking or not. “Where does her majesty sit?” he asked.

Fragrant pointed with a wing to one of the boxes near the top of the chamber; it was slightly larger than the others and was closed off with dark blue curtains. “That is her box. Although she may intervene on any session, she normally only appears in person at the most important decisions. Although theoretically the court exists to advise her, she doesn’t actually have to follow any of our decisions. In reality she normally abides by the vote of the court, although disagreement is hardly unknown. Usually if that is the case she returns the decision back to the court to debate further rather than just overruling us.”

“Huh. I thought she would always be in court.”

“If she did that she’d never have any time to actually get anything done. Most decisions are brought before her after the vote for her stamp. Although the curtains are so that nopony ever knows if she is there or not. Most of the committee rooms have similar boxes for the same reason. I’ve also heard she can use magic to make copies of herself so she can be at court and carrying out other duties at the same time, although I’ve never seen two of her at once.” She moved slightly closer to Max. “I’ve also heard that she sometimes goes about the palace disguised as a guard or page just to keep everypony sharp.”

Max thought of courtiers he’d seen around the court. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that; it felt nice to think that the Princess was always around, listening to the fears of her little ponies, but also it seemed a little sinister – a breach of privacy, almost.

Fragrant noticed Max’s disquiet. “But that is only a rumour. Now, several members of the court act as Luna’s personal advisors on certain subjects, they are the head of the various ministries. There is a meeting of the ministry heads about once a week to advise Luna or any change to her realm. It is common for the most powerful ponies to be ministers; each of the Viceroys hold at least one ministership, although it is not unknown for lesser lights to hold seats. The number of ministries change over time, and may merge; I,” she preened slightly, “Am the minister of weather; it used to be part of the ministry of the interior but my mother made sure it became a full ministry during her time at court. As my family runs the largest weather factories in Equestria it only made sense for us to be appointed the role,” she said with a smile. “I am responsible for detecting and dealing with any rogue weather, ensuring that weather is provided to all government property as well as to the uninhabited parts of Equestria, and the licensing of weather personal and companies.”

It made sense to Max. After all, his own advisor on weather back in Sadlz.. in Nulpar was the weather chief. He liked to hear Fragrant speak so passionately on her specialist subject, and the smile looked good on her. “So you get to meet the Princess each week?”

“Most weeks, yes. It is not like I talk to her in length often but I report to her.”

“What’s she like?”

Fragrant thought for a moment. “She is kind and surprisingly youthful, and maybe a little sad behind it all. It is hard to explain. I think we often do not meet the standards she expects but instead of blaming us, she blames herself.” She stared into the distance for a moment before shaking herself. “Still, you will get to speak to her yourself next week at your ceremony.”

“Yes, about that…”

“We can talk about that later,” said Fragrant, cutting off Max. “Now where were we? Ah yes, the ministries. In addition to the ministers themselves, there are of course many many ponies working for the ministries. However, one of the greatest powers of the ministries is the formation and control of the various committees. That is where the real power of the government lies. Committees are where most of the legislation is worked out; being part of the right committee gives you control over that legislation, control which can be bartered with other courtiers for influence and favours in their committees. I myself, in addition to my role as the weather minister, also serve on several weather related committees as well as disaster relief, foreign trade, health and education.”

“That sounds like a lot, are you sure you have the time to show me around?”

“I have a substantial staff to help me with most of it, and some of the committees only meet once a month. Still, I am normally quite busy and free time can be rather precious, but I am happy to spend it with you, Baron Max,” she said graciously, a slight flush rising on her cheeks.

“I am really glad, you’re helping me a lot. I don’t think I’d understand half of this without help. How do I get on these committees?”

“When they are formed, the minister and other high ranked nobles provide a list of candidates, and the princess decides the final composition. Their composition also changes over time based on resignation and promotions.”

“So the nobles with the most appropriate skills get into the roles?” He nodded in understanding.

Fragrant paused for a moment. He seemed so naive; she didn’t want to be the one to burst his bubble, it would be like kicking a puppy. “Generally yes, there is also a fair amount of favour trading. It is likely you will have to start on the smaller, less powerful committees. They normally have a lot of paperwork and no great prestige, but things like sewage control and zoning can be very useful given a decade or so’s work.”

“A decade? That sounds like a long time.”

“Everypony have to pay their dues, Max, although in some cases the dues were paid by their ancestors. Some new members can step into their parent’s shoes. You don’t have an heir, do you?” she asked cautiously.

“Hum? Err, no… I never really found the time or the right mare. Well, there was somepony but it didn’t work out. Yourself?”

“I am without child.” A brief flicker of pain passed over her face. “My brother or one of his children will inherit my role when I step down.” She shook herself. “But that will likely not be for many years. Now, Max, is there any particular interests you have, any bills you would be interested in submitting?”

“Well, I’ve been working on transport issues in Nulpar. I want to try and get us connected up to the railway but no company is interested in building the track, let alone actually running the line. They want a guaranteed income, and until the track is completed there won't be any, so basically no track without there being track, it’s a bit frustrating. I’m hoping to create some sort of subsidy to pay for the new track laying, or at least make it cheaper. Nulpar can’t be the only province to have that problem.”

“That seems reasonable. It may take some time but within a few years you may well be able to arrange for a vote on such a motion, likely attached to another bill.”

“A few years?” His face fell. “I was hoping to at least get a start this year.”

“That is unlikely, I am afraid, Max. It is almost unknown for a first year member of the court to make such a legislation change, even if you were inheriting a high position.”

“Well, the court hasn’t known Baron Mounty Max of Nulpar yet,” he announced, putting a hoof on the edge of the box and striking a pose.

Fragrant hid a giggle with a hoof. For a moment she really did believe that her strange guest could manage the impossible. “We shall see, Baron Max. We shall see.” She checked the clock. “Now I have an hour or so left free, so I think we should get something to eat and it would be a good time to show you some of the other court members.”

---

Fragrant explained to Max that there were several kitchens throughout the castle that provided food 24 hours a day to its various residents, from the lowest cleaner to Luna herself. Many nobles preferred to eat in their offices and some even had their own chefs on staff, but the major source of food for most of the courtiers while the court was actually meeting was ‘The banqueting hall’ as it was called (even though it actually wasn’t). The canteen was helpfully placed not far from the court chamber and within easy reach of most of the court’s offices. (Max noted that his office was quite some distance away.) This position meant that a large number of courtiers passed through it even if they didn’t stop to eat, so Fragrant decided it was a fine place for them to stop and pony watch.

“I am sorry I had to leave so suddenly last night,” said Fragrant, carefully lapping at a bowl of soup. “I recalled a prior engagement,” she lied, struggling for a moment to control her wings and tail at the recollection of the feel of Max pressed against her. “I will of course reimburse you for the cost.”

“Don’t even think about it,” said Max, sipping his water. He wasn’t taking any chances with wine today. He wanted to remain fully in charge of his facilities; no chance of embarrassing himself and Fragrant again. “Think of it as payment for your time in showing me around.”

Fragrant smiled. “That is very nice of you, but I’m afraid steps must be made to avoid the appearance of bribery. Any such payment must be recorded. I will take care of the matter. Now where was I? Ah yes, the thing to remember about the court is that it is made up of individuals. No two ponies will vote quite the same; however, there are certain groups that tend to vote in blocks, either because they have an alliance or because they have similar beliefs. Take Count Hardup. I have never known him to vote differently from Archduke Fisher on any matter of importance. They have a very strong alliance; I believe they even share blood somewhere in their ancestry.”

Max bit into his sandwich and wished he’d brought a notebook; he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to remember all of this.

“Now there could be said to be two overarching groups within the court, the conservatives and the radicals. Conservatives want to keep things more or less the same or at least minimise chance, whereas the radicals want to shake things up. It is a bit simplistic – many ponies will be conservative on some topics and radical on others – but it will do for our purposes. The conservatives tend to be the older and more powerful parts of the court; if the current system tends to work for them they won't want to change things.”

“My ears are burning,” an elderly green earth pony stallion piped up as he approached them followed by a much younger lime green mare.

Fragrant smiled. “Ah, this is Baron Fields, one of the conservatives I was telling you about.” She gestured for the old pony to sit and the young mare moved to help him before he gently batted her away.

“Ah, you must be the new fella, Minty isn’t it?”

“It’s Mounty father, Mounty Max,” whispered the mare demurely her voice like silk.

“That’s what I said Mounty Mix.”

Max got up and pulled out a chair for the mare so she could sit. Both Fragrant and Field’s eyes narrowed a little.

“This is my daughter Buttercup,” said Baron Fields. “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you at the station last night, something came up.”

“That’s all right, I was rather late,” said Max.

“Anyway, now what fool ideas has Fragrant been filling your head with?”

“She’s been telling me about the different factions in the court, Sir,” said Max politely.

“Telling you about how us conservatives are all old fossils grasping for all the power we can get our hooves on, did she? There’s many who’d lump her into that category as well, you know. Anyway, it’s just that many of us more senior members of the court are old enough to know the things that didn’t work the last time we tried them. Experience is a good, if harsh teacher. Take your cloud export bill, Duchess. I remember your mother trying something similar, must be forty years ago now. It was a disaster – not only did it drive up the prices in Equestria and almost lead to a drought, but you never could get the things to stay together long enough to get to where they were supposed to be going. You had to export two clouds for every one you sold, it was such a waste.”

“I can assure you that there have been big improvements in cloud transportation technology in the last decade; at most there would be a 20% loss and we have plenty of spare capacity in the latest generation of cloud factory,” said Fragrant her wings rising in annoyance.

“Oh, your fancy new gizmos. Have you tested all this before you give away all of our water?” he demanded, slamming his cane on the ground.

Max looked back and forth between the two angry ponies, wondering what to do. Buttercup put a hoof on his. “Don’t worry,” she said quietly. “They’re friends really, they just get a little passionate about some things.”

Looking away from Fragrant and Rolling, Max looked around the other diners. To his surprise, although many of them were fully clothed, a fair number were minimally dressed or even naked. He must have been wrong about his idea of them being constantly dressed. His attention was drawn to an elderly pegasus mare with her mane done up in a beehive and wearing a fantastically elaborate dress, making her way through the crowded room like a tall ship at sail. The crowds parted in front of her and a herd of nobles desperately tried to follow her. “Who is that?” he asked.

Fragrant looked to where he was pointing. “That is Vicereine Puissance, minister of Finance.” She sounded surprised. “Nulpar must be really out of touch if you do not know who she is, she is the only current noble to hold two full provinces.”

Max looked a little shame faced.

“I’ve been here long enough to remember when she could raise more votes with a wink of her eye and a shake of her flank than with a debate,” said Rolling. “She could raise more than just votes if you know what I mean.” He elbowed Max in the ribs. “There’s a reason she and her husbands had seven foals.” He sighed. “That shows how old I am. Still, she’s a good mare, maybe a bit grasping but she runs the economy well, cut back on the fat and makes sure that these newcomers don’t drive us all into bankruptcy with their new ideas.”

“The newcomers that he mentions are the more radical sections of the court. They do tend to be the newer members of the court, such as Viscount Blueblood or Count Greengrass. They are often trying to make a name for themselves, for good or bad.”

“They say that everypony arrives at court a radical but leaves a conservative. Still, Blueblood is a nice enough chap. I knew his father, Baron. Oh, he’s a bit wild, lets the power go to his head, but so did his father. I’m sure he’ll settle down in a few years, probably just needs to find the right mare. And it’s Greenmeadow, not Greengrass. He’s a good fellow as well, I certainly wouldn’t call him a radical. Greengrass is his son, he can’t be more than ten, not even got his mark yet, certainly not old enough for court but I’m sure he’ll take after his father.”

A look of deep sadness passed over Fragrant’s face. “Of course, how silly of me,” she muttered.

“Anyway, I can’t spend all day here chatting, I’ve got things to do. If you ever want to chat to someone about the court, my door is always open, Mix,” he said holding his hoof out to Max.

“Thank you sir,” he said politely, gently shaking the offered limb.

Leaning heavily on his daughter, the old stallion staggered away.

Fragrant sighed. “It’s sad to see him like that. He was a friend of my mother, I remember spending a summer at his estate. He taught me how to grow flowers. I wish he’d retire, just spend his time with those flowers… sooner or later he’s going to make some serious mistake and that’s all he’s going to be remembered for, not all the time he spent working for the good of Equestria. I wonder if that will be my fate as well.” She looked so desolate in that moment that Max wanted to reach out and hug all the sadness out of her, regardless of the consequences, but he controlled himself and gently rested a hoof on her own. She jumped slightly. “My apologies, I am feeling a little maudlin today. Now where were we?”

“Um, conservatives and radicals?”

“Oh yes. Of course, on top of that divide there are various other factions – the technocrats for example. They consider themselves a practical bunch, asking if something works rather than if it is new or not. Many are captains of industry trying to move Equestria forwards into a new golden age, and I have to say I don’t entirely disagree, but I say you also have to think about what the changes will do to the people. Greater automation for the weather factories would be good for production, but a lot of my ponies would lose their jobs if we did that.” She scanned the crowds and saw a stallion sitting by himself. “That is Archduke Bobbing Fisher of Rushia, minister of Defence and also of Technology, he’s very important in the technocrats. I find him a rather… intense individual, but he is very good at his job. I would suggest staying on his good side, he is after all your neighbour as Rushia borders Nulpar. If you are looking to modernise your province, they might be a good group to support. They do include the owners of several large train companies.”

“What group do you support?” asked Max.

“Well, I used to think I was more of an idealist, trying to think if a decision was right rather than if it would work, but, well, what is right is often not very easy and maybe even not very possible. Even if you do get it done you might get punished for it.” She looked a little bitter. “Nowadays I’d say I was a more moderate conservative and somewhat of a technocrat. Still, as I said, ponies don’t fit into neat boxes, we’re all different. You, Max, as a newcomer to the court should be a radical, and I don’t doubt you are, but you also seem to be an idealist whereas your transport plan would place you with the Technocrats.”

Max nodded and then yawned mightily.

“I am sorry if I’m boring you, Baron Max,” said Fragrant with a raised eyebrow.

“No! It’s just that I’m still getting used to the courts hours.”

“Well, I am afraid that I will be busy for the rest of the night,” said Fragrant. “So if you want, you can get some sleep. I recommend catching up on your sleep whenever possible – you can be called to court at any time even during the middle of the day, so it is important to stay sharp. Or you can go back to setting up your office, I’m sure Notebook has everything well in hoof by now.”

“What will you be doing, anything interesting?”

“Hardly, it is a trial of a sort.”

“Trial? Who’s being put on trial?”

“I am,” she said matter of factually. “I am being put on trial for treason.”

Author's Note:

The start of the second arc where Max learns about the court and how things work there, as with the first a block of three chapters rather longer than the previous ones.

Comments

[La Vallett1]

Judging by how Rolling is acting, I am suspecting that he's suffering Alzheimer's Disease.

[djthomp]

That bit about Greengrass and Greenmeadow was fairly confusing until I realized the senility issue that was going on.

And that ending, huh.

[RK_Striker_JK_5]

Catching up a bit. Love this and all the intricacies. Although the chapter title brings two things to mind...

Welcome to the real world she said to me, condescendingly...

Or...

All rise! Criminal Court art two is now in session. The honorable Harold t Stone, presiding.

[SWEETOLEBOB18]

The castle was surprisingly quiet. He had expected it to be a constant hive of activity, the beating heart of Equestria.... He supposed, what with the court being nocturnal, most of them would still be asleep.

"...And remember the night is for hunting and forget not the day is for sleep."
The Law of The Jungle (Kipling)