• Published 4th Feb 2015
  • 1,485 Views, 7 Comments

Objection in the Strongest Possible Terms - Fon Shaolin



Discord and Celestia have rekindled their prior relationship; One pony has a bone of dissention to pick

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Chapter 1

“So, your proposal is to move the orphanage rather than bulldoze it.” Celestia glanced at her prime minister, but the aged stallion seemed just as flummoxed as she was. “That is rather…magnanimous of you, Blueblood. Where exactly are you proposing we move the orphanage to?”

The pristine stallion’s horn lit and a large flipbook floated over to hover beside his head. “I’m pleased you asked that, Auntie. I’ve put a lot of thought into it and the place I have in mind would be perfect for them. It has lots of wide, open space for playing,” the book fluttered open to a page depicting a meadow drawn with crayon, “plenty to eat,” another page and a few stick ponies eating cheese, “and, most importantly, a wonderful view to help fuel their imaginations.”

The page flipped again and Celestia leaned forward to see. “Is that a drawing of the Earth?” she asked, squinting and hoping that wasn’t the case.

“Good eye, Auntie! I had to guess what the eastern oceans looked like, but I think it’s rather spot-on otherwise.”

“Blueblood, would the orphans be, by chance, on the moon?”

For one terrible moment Celestia thought she was going to have to murder her nephew. His face was so earnest as he nodded his head with his cute, horrifying little presentation still floating beside him. He managed to hold his look, but one of the crayon fillies in the drawing gave the game away by sticking its tongue out at Celestia when it thought she wasn’t looking.

Celestia leaned back on her throne and fought to keep a smile out of her voice as she asked, “Did Blueblood actually have a meeting today or was the entire thing your doing, Discord?”

Blueblood let out a gasp of shock. In fact, his face became a mask of absolute terror and his tongue rolled out of his mouth like a red carpet, which a miniature Discord promptly strolled down. “Why Celestia,” he said, voice high like he’d been huffing helium, “I’m offended! Offended! Are you implying that I would do anything untoward to your sweet, loving, obnoxious quasi-demispawn?”

The evacuated stallion simply stood there, mouth open with a blank face. It was actually quite unsettling, but Celestia kept her face cool and neutral.

Discord groaned and reached into his nonexistent pants pocket to fish out a set of car keys. “Yes, yes. I suppose I’ll make things right. I’m sure everyone would like him better like this, though,” he muttered as he reached back into the horse’s mouth. A bit of fumbling around and Blueblood started to emit odd mechanical sounds. “One second, Celestia. I need to find the choke before I go and flood the engine.”

Twin clouds of black smoke drifted out of Blueblood’s ears and a loud backfiring noise came from somewhere as Discord finally finished whatever it was he was doing. The prince’s tongue rolled back up and some color came back to his face.

“Who…what…where…?” He stumbled around like a drunk, but when he saw Discord his eyes shrank down to pinpoints. “Oh goddess, it’s you.

“Yes, me. Here.” Discord tossed the keys into Blueblood’s open mouth. “Tell the dealer that he lied about your gas mileage and that he’s going to have to do a lot better than 10% APR if he wants to make a deal. You also might want to get those valves looked at – I heard a rattle when we took that hard right on Sugarplum Street.”

Celestia shook her head as Blueblood screamed and ran out of the throne room. There went all those bits she’d spent on therapy for the young stallion after the last Gala. “Discord, while I appreciate a visit, couldn’t it have waited until after court was adjourned? And maybe not scarring my nephew for life?”

The flipbook “Blueblood” came in with suddenly whizzed over to Celestia’s side and folded itself into a little lounge chair. “But Celestia, where’s the fun in that?” Discord asked when he’d popped into it. His lion’s paw circled around her shoulders and Celestia resisted the urge to lean into it a little bit. “If I hadn’t taken ole Blue Britches for a spin there’s no telling what kind of stress he’d put on his poor little shoulders. I simply relieved him of that burdensome appointment he had. For his own good, of course.”

“Of course.” Celestia sought out the ornate clock hanging near the entrance of the throne room; Blueblood had been given a rather large chunk of her schedule today and that made the princess a bit more chipper. “I won’t say I’m not thankful for the unexpected break you’ve given me,” she said with a slight smile. “Perhaps I shall take an early lunch? Care to join me?”

“About that.” Discord snapped a finger and he was back on the carpet, looking up at Celestia’s throne. “As much as I would be tickled to do that, I’m afraid I have a bit of official business. You see, I got this in the mail yesterday and I just thought you’d want to see it.”

Discord held out a rather ornate envelope. Celestia magically took hold of it and brought it over to the throne. A few nobles had elected to attend court, so she cleared her throat and read it aloud for their benefit.

“‘To Discord, God of Chaos, Ex-Ruler of Draconlonica.’ Well, they certainly did their homework. Did you prank a college professor, Discord?”

Said ex-ruler shook his head. “Not this month.” A grin appeared on his muzzle as he stroked his spindly beard. “Draconlonica! It still has such a nice ring to it! Much better than ‘Equestria’ does. Do you remember that time you and your sister had to sing the national anthem? For an entire year!”

Celestia did, in fact, remember that. “It was the only way you’d let our armies retreat. We had to travel to every town, hamlet, and city to sing it. All seventy-five stanzas.” Ruefully, the alicorn noticed a few of the assembled nobles taking notes; so much for that embarrassing saga of her life being swept from history.

Putting that sour thought aside, Celestia opened the envelope and pulled the equally-nice letter from inside. It was horn-written on heavy, high quality paper with pressed gold borders not unlike the official stationary use at the castle. That piqued Celestia’s curiosity. Someone had gone to considerable trouble in both time and bits to not only write this, but also to somehow get it to Discord. He wasn’t an easy creature to get ahold of.

“See, Celestia? I wasn’t just blowing smoke about having business,” Discord said – rather, a Discord made of white smoke said as it lazily swam through the air. The original was just huffing on a pipe and reading the morning post.

The solar diarch didn’t even bat an eye at that; the content of the letter was far more interesting.

“‘…I hereby challenge you to a duel on the morrow at Trottingham Field for impugning the dignity of Her Majesty, Celestia al Sol’.” Celestia groaned. She thought these types of things had already been ironed out with the nobility. A few rounds of personal visits, carefully-choreographed “paparazzi” pictures, and Discord showing up at the last Gala on his best behavior should have done it; had done it until this little episode.

Discord just sat there, reclining on his tail. He wasn’t going to be any help at all. His suggestion when the indignation starting raining down upon their (tentatively rekindled) romantic dalliance was to simply “go with the flow”. For him, that meant leaving a conga line of well-meaning ponies suffering from various magical maladies in his wake until they wised up.

Celestia tapped the letter on her chin as she thought. This was the first challenge to come by in months, though, and some serious thought seemed to have gone into it. She couldn’t imagine that there was a well-to-do house out there that hadn’t figured out the score yet.

“I can’t tell who this is from,” she finally admitted, “which was their intention. Likely they heard about my discouraging their peers before the actual date of the challenge and took measures.”
“Well, since they went to so much trouble perhaps I should indulge? Just this once.”

Celestia wondered about that. Maybe just this once she could let the draconequus have his fun and teach the nobility that her advice shouldn’t be bucked. And, given how much her lover had been asking for some of his own brand of fun, Discord would owe her quite the favor…

Maybe it was time to talk to Luna and see if she still remembered just how a head of state was supposed to act when attending duel?

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