The Ponies and the Ponies

by Ponygon

Chapter 1: Ponyville and Ponyville

Ponyville avoids annihilation!

The fate of the world flapped feebly in the wind; the newsprint caught on the branches of a bush, where it remained until a white unicorn mare with a purple mane picked it up with her magic.

Rarity sighed. Some ponies could be so careless. This was a public park; it belonged to everybody. She bet the pony who threw this to the ground wouldn’t have littered in his own home—the culprit was likely to be a male; she’d never known a female to be so slobby.

Her gaze rested on the headline. She expected better from the Equestria Daily Sun too. That headline was far too sensationalist for a respectable broadsheet. She’d thrown her own copy into the recycling the moment she’d picked it up from her mailbox; it told her nothing new. Well, except for the new Paris fashions; she’d kept that bit.

With her magic, she scrunched the newspaper into a ball and trotted over to the nearest recycling bin, where she dropped it in gently. “Honestly, some ponies,” she murmured with a shake of her head.

There was no point in dwelling on it now. Why ruin an admittedly windy but otherwise lovely day being angry about some pony she’d never realistically meet? The sun was out, the birds were singing and she noticed that the wind didn’t seem to affect the bees at all. They buzzed along with no problem, visiting flower after flower. That got her thinking about a honeycomb pattern dress. She could make it work with a bit of lace and—

No! She chided herself for thinking about that; this was not the time. Scandalous as that was, she had a more pressing problem to grapple with: one related to the newspaper headlines and her impending visit to Nocturnal Equestria.

Rarity continued through the park at a brisker pace in the hope that a canter could jog the unwanted thoughts out of her mind. She put on a pleasant smile for the ponies she met and carefully blindsighted the few obviously foreign ponies she wasn’t allowed to see, which at that time of the day were thankfully few and far between.

“Good morning, Mevrouw Rarity!” called out a familiar voice. “Out for a walk?”

She smiled upon seeing a familiar grey pony wearing a blue marshal’s tunic. Mrs Rarity, was it? “Good morning, Wachtmeester Clover,” she responded formally, despite the fact that she was on first-name terms with the Marechaussee sergeant. They had, after all, been good neighbours for over five years. “I didn’t expect to see you here today. Isn’t your beat normally Haymarket?”

“I’ve been reassigned,” responded the earth pony with a shrug. “The captain felt it would be a good change of pace for everypony.”

“Yes, everypony needs a change in surroundings now and again,” agreed Rarity with a nod of her head. “I personally find a brisk walk in the park a good way to cleanse one’s mind. Well, that or a trip to the local bathhouse.”

“Oh by the way, I wanted to thank you for taking on the case for us,” said the sergeant.

Rarity stopped in her tracks. She hadn’t expected him to have heard about that. “Think nothing of it, Lucky,” she responded with a dismissive wave. News certainly travelled fast. At least, it did within the ranks of the Royal Marechaussee, Diurnal Equestria’s National Police and incidentally, Ponyville’s only police force. “Investigating a crime on foreign soil would be a good experience for me.” Not that the Royal Inquisition of Nocturnal Equestria would allow her to do any such thing. Officially, she was there to oversee the interrogation of six Diurnal Equestrian suspects and nothing more. “Though I personally doubt the crime occurred on Nocturnal Equestrian soil or in the Harmony District,” she continued as she resumed her walk. “No doubt, the Nocturnal Equestrians are using our compatriots as hostages.”

“I hope they think it’s worth it,” said Lucky as he glanced towards an ominous cloud formation high above the north-eastern edge of Diurnal Ponyville. “They nearly started a war over one little murder.”

Rarity found her gaze following his towards the fortified cloud city of Royal Cloudsdale. She didn’t need to blindsight it, unlike its Nocturnal Equestrian equivalent; she just wished she couldn’t. Not that blindsighting it would have helped any. “Admittedly, they’ve overreacted a smidge,” she responded. She smiled faintly. “And that’s coming from me, a known overreactor.”

Sergeant Clover gasped. “Who are you and what have you done to Rarity?” he asked with the worst mock horror she’d ever seen.

“Oh, shush you,” responded Rarity with a friendly swat of his flank with her tail.

“You know, I don’t know why you have to go. I mean, sure, we’re a military police force. Goes without saying they wouldn’t want us to cross the border.” His next words descended into an unintelligible cough as a couple passed by, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “But this is clearly a case for Concordia,” he added quickly, and despite no more ponies being within earshot, he said the last word very quietly, as if afraid that the mere mention of that organisation would bring its wrath down on him. “If the Nocturnal Equestrians can’t identify the murder victim, then that human clearly didn’t cross the border legally.”

Anywhere else, crossing a border illegally was just that. In Ponyville, it was discord. Merely seeing across the border was enough to invoke the crime, and the wrath of Concordia’s agents.

“Yes, dear, but they genuinely might not have enough information to justify passing the case on.” She knew the Equestrian governments had become more reluctant to call upon Concordia in recent years; they saw its actions—necessary as they might have been—as gross violations of national sovereignty. “I’m glad they did ask me, though,” said Rarity, before she looked around her carefully. When she was satisfied that they were alone, she continued, “I’m worried about how they’re treating Caramel.”

Sergeant Clover nodded. “No idea why his company transferred him to the Harmony District,” he said. “I’ve been on border duty before. I’ve lost count of how many times I had to turn him back because he’d forgotten his passport.” He shook his head. “It’s just his luck to be arrested by the Nocturnal Equestrians.”

“Almost the opposite of you, wouldn’t you say?” responded Rarity.

Before Lucky could respond, something slapped him in the face, much to Rarity’s amusement.

“Es tut mir leid, Herr,” apologised a voice that wiped the smile off Rarity’s face and set her hairs on end.

She didn’t dare turn to the source of the voice. In a way, she didn’t need to; from the words alone, she knew that pony was not in the same park or country as them at all and should not have spoken to them. To acknowledge the pony’s existence was the crime of discord. From the inhaled exclamation that followed—which Rarity deafheard, the audio equivalent of blindsight—it became apparent that the other pony had come to the same realisation.

As the Nocturnal Equestrian galloped away, Rarity wondered whether she could look at the piece of paper or whether she needed to blindsight it. The paper, after all, must have been Nocturnal Equestrian, and therefore seeing it was to discord. But then, from her perspective, it was just a blank piece of paper; it could have easily originated in Diurnal Equestria and therefore been homotopic—the same side—to her. She snatched it off Lucky Clover’s face with her magic, careful not to look at the other side just in case it really was from the other Equestria and thus heterotopic. “Oh dear, it is very windy today, isn’t it?” she exclaimed more loudly than was necessary. “Why, I almost fancied I heard a—” She trailed off when she realised she’d discord by finishing that sentence.

“Y-yes, it’s very windy,” agreed the sergeant awkwardly, as his eyes darted around nervously. “Very…” He shook his head as if it would dislodge the thought from his mind. “So, you’re leaving for Nocturnal Equestria this afternoon?” he asked quickly with a nervous laugh.

Rarity nodded. “Yes, I’m all packed,” she responded with a nod of her head. She discreetly tossed the piece of paper away. “All I can do now is wait.”

The Nocturnal Equestrians controlled their side of the main border jealously. Ponies could only cross at specified times, and Rarity couldn’t cross until half-six in the evening.

“You’ll still be around later?” asked Rarity, and when she received a nod in response, she smiled. “I’ll bid farewell to you, then.” She looked west, to the pink and purple rotunda that was Carousel House.

“If I don’t see you again, I wish you the best of luck. Give those inquisitors hell for us.”

* * *

No doubt Frau Rarity would give them hell.

Inquisitor Twilight Sparkle sighed exasperatedly, as she closed the door behind her. The holding area was very cramped at the moment, with three Diurnal Equestrian citizens crammed into one holding cell and three more had yet to arrive.

If she ever met the idiot who had ordered the raid on the Harmony District, she vowed to turn his head into an orange. Just because the entry wound was caused by a unicorn horn—but not by any on record—did not necessarily mean that a Diurnal unicorn had murdered the human. Twilight knew for a fact that Her Majesty’s horn wasn’t on record. Did that mean the Nachtkönigin was the murderer? Well, admittedly, it was a possibility, but good luck trying to investigate that crime.

“Lang lebe die Nacht!”

“Lang lebe,” greeted Twilight as she returned a salute. “So, are these the remaining Diurnal Equestrians, Lictor Thunderlane?”

The pegasus pony smiled proudly. “Yes, Frau Inquisitor,” responded Thunderlane. “All present and accounted for. Not a single injury left either.”

From his expression, Twilight was sure Thunderlane didn’t realise the obvious: they could remove the wounds, but they could never remove the memory of those wounds. Their best dream walkers, oneirologists, could potentially convince the more susceptible that they’d never received the injuries, that it had all been a nightmare, but not everybody confused dreams with reality.

She frowned suddenly. Twilight craned her head to the side. “Where’s the other one?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Where’s the other foreign national?” asked Twilight. “Bishopsgate was supposed to give you three ponies. Not counting the two lictors either side, I count two.”

“But they only had two to begin with!”

Twilight sighed wordlessly, as she levitated a piece of paper off the pegasus stallion. There was no denying it, the transfer receipt only had two names on it. She gestured for Thunderlane to step out of the way.

“Mevrouw,” she began in slightly accented Diurnal Equestrian, “was er niet een andere pony met je mee?” She might have gotten the word order slightly wrong—because the grammar of the two languages weren’t quite the same—but she was sure she had asked them whether another pony had been with them. Perhaps she could have spoken in Nocturnal Equestrian—the languages shared a common ancestor, and at times were mutually intelligible—but that was probably a bad idea.

“No, Inquisitor ma’am,” responded the Diurnal Equestrian in her native tongue, “it was just the two of us.”

“Brilliant!” sighed Twilight with a roll of her eyes. “Thunderlane, call up the other offices. See if they’ve got an extra pony unaccounted for.” She quickly added, “I’ll see to these two.”

“Yes, Frau Inquisitor!” responded Thunderlane with a nod of his head and a stamp of his right hoof in salute.

Twilight sighed. She had hoped to get some sleep before Rarity’s arrival. Didn’t look like that was going to be happening anytime soon.

* * *

“The Palace of Friendship is the only legal border crossing between the United Kingdom of Equestria and Nocturnal Equestria.”

It was also, Rarity believed, the most ironically named building she’d ever seen. Not that she could really blame the architects. The Palace had been something of a gift from the short-lived Crystal Republic; they’d started the design a year after the Hearts and Hooves Revolution, so were still a bit used to catering to Sombra’s twisted tastes. It certainly showed; the Palace had an uncanny knack of looking like an evil overlord’s castle at night. Their latest designs—she’d seen them in the latest Cosmarepolitan—were much nicer.

“…when they signed the Armistice of Dusk,” continued the tour guide in what sounded like Diurnal Equestrian, but was probably Dutch—it lacked the alveolar clicks, whinnying, and bilabial trills that were so characteristic of the Equestrian languages. “Under the terms of the Armistice, the borders were frozen in place and Concordia was formed to enforce the truce.”

It was strange there were still tourists in Diurnal Ponyville, given the recent tensions. Then again, it wasn’t the first time Nocturnal Equestria had threatened war. After travelling so far, and for so long—it took a week to get to Diurnal Equestria from the Geneva-Griffonstone Portal—it would be a shame to cut one’s holiday short based on yet another meaningless threat.

As she walked past the group, she noticed most of the humans wore apple-shaped badges, which meant the tour company was Boomgaard Tourism, a subdivision of the Apple family’s Boomgaard Corporation. In addition to the guide, Rarity noticed two marshals from the Marechaussee, presumably there to provide protection. Neither looked happy to be there.

The guard outside Southgate—the Diurnal Equestrian entrance to the Palace grounds—looked miserable too. “Good evening, Mevrouw,” he greeted in an infectious monotone that seemed to sap the strength out of her. “Papers, please.”

It took the marshal a while to look at her passport. He kept looking back and forth between Rarity and her photograph. “Is something wrong, officer?” she asked in concern.

“Um, I’m sorry but are you the Mevrouw Rarity?”

“Why, yes, I am.”

“Oh, by Celestia’s Sun, this is amazing!” exclaimed the marshal as he pranced in place. “I’m a huge fan of your work.”

Rarity smiled.

“My favourite was the Case of the Diamond Dogs of Baskerville. You certainly showed them who’s boss.”

The smile disappeared. “Oh, yes, I see,” she said. They were rarely a fan of her fashion work. Sometimes, she regretted having provided the solution to Lieutenant Bonbon’s case all that time ago. If only she’d kept her mouth shut during the entire dress fitting, perhaps she’d be more known for her fashion now instead of her detective work.

After a few minutes of babbled excitement from the marshal—in which she put her signature to his hoof-cuffs—he let her pass.

* * *

Rarity had thought the Palace of Friendship had been hideous. She nearly fainted when she caught sight of the visitor’s hat that Border Control gave her. It was a horrific dayglow colour that Rarity was convinced could be seen from the moon, through a thick layer of cloud and fog… by a blind pony. Short of dressing up in a lighthouse costume, she had no idea how to make it look good. It was outrageous. Never had an accessory defeated her before!

If only she could refuse, but the law required she wear it if she wanted to cross into Nocturnal Equestria. How else would the Nocturnal Equestrians know she was homotopic to them? How else would Concordia know not to arrest her for discording? She had to wear it, despite the fact that nothing in her wardrobe—and she mentally ransacked her wardrobe quite thoroughly—went well with it.

Strangely, the pegasus mare on the other side failed to say anything about it. Probably too good-mannered.

“G-good evening, M-Mevrouw Rarity,” greeted the buttery-yellow mare in perfect Diurnal Equestrian. “I… My name’s Fluttershy. I’m to be your guide.”

“Guten Abend, Frau Fluttershy,” greeted Rarity; she decided to at least try speaking some Nocturnal Equestrian as a courtesy.

Her guide smiled in return, though it was difficult for Rarity to notice it. Her first instinct was to blindsight the Nocturnal Equestrian, but she’d spent weeks retraining herself. Rarity found herself focusing on the pegasus mare’s clothes first. She noted Fluttershy wore a green sweater and a grey skirt that covered her cutie mark; in Nocturnal Equestria, it was illegal to display a cutie mark in public. The green, Rarity noticed, was of a shade that would have been illegal in Diurnal Equestria, but that was to be expected. Colours that were legal in one kingdom had to be illegal in the other to help ponies blindsight, to see without seeing.

“I-it is an honour to meet Diurnal Equestria’s foremost private detective,” she continued in a wavering voice before she presented Rarity with a bouquet of flowers. “That is, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Somehow, Rarity got the impression that the flowers weren’t meant for her. Perhaps it was the way her guide gave them to her or the fact that Fluttershy hadn’t mentioned that they were for her to begin with. “Danke schön,” she said nonetheless in passable Nocturnal Equestrian.

“Bitte,” responded Fluttershy with a nod of her head. She then continued in Diurnal Equestrian, for Rarity’s sake. “I-I hope you had a good journey, that is, if I’m not being too presumptuous?”

“It was very good, thank you,” responded Rarity. “Thank you for meeting me here.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” she responded. “I’m only too glad to be of assistance.” Fluttershy turned suddenly. “Now, if you would be so kind as to follow me, please? That is, if you don’t mind? I’ll take you to your hotel, if that’s okay. We can stop by Shooting Star Hill on the way; it gives wonderful views of Nocturnal Ponyville. Not that there’s anything wrong with the views elsewhere and I’m sure your home is just as lovely.”

Ah, there it was. Rarity remembered reading about it. Shooting Star Hill was a required destination and from the description, Rarity knew she’d often blindsighted the place, not just because she had to, but also because she considered it a horrific eyesore.

The nerve of this pegasus mare! And to act all timid and polite like that.

When Fluttershy wasn’t looking, she bit the heads off the flowers. They tasted sweet, but Rarity didn’t dare swallow. She spat them out whenever she could. Discreetly, of course—it wouldn’t do for a lady to be seen spitting in the street like some ruffian.

When they reached Shooting Star Hill, Rarity was surprised by the number of bouquets that were already there. A sea of flowers lay between her and the large statue of the Nachtkönigin, or as the Diurnal Equestrians frequently called her, Nightmare Moon. It was as if the Night Queen had died recently.

“Oh dear, this is the most awful thing! The flowers you gave me don’t seem to have lasted very long,” exclaimed Rarity as she waved the decapitated plants dramatically at Fluttershy. “Look, the heads have fallen right off! I couldn’t possibly present these!”

The expression on Fluttershy’s face made Rarity wonder whether she’d overdone it. Had she just dropped the pegasus mare into hot water?

It wasn’t long before Fluttershy put on a brave face. “Well, that’s quite alright,” she said quietly. “I guess you can still pay your respects by bowing. Not that I’m saying you should—well, I don’t want to force you but…”

Of course she would. Even if it irked her, she would do so because it was the proper thing to do. Still, Rarity wasn’t going to go all out. She bowed as curtly as propriety allowed; there would be no prostration on the ground, and Nocturnal Equestria’s Ministry of Information was insane if it thought it could get anything more out of her than that. She whirled round quickly.

The sun was beginning to set, and she could see the faint cyan glow she’d normally seen from her apartment window—not that she’d ever admit to doing anything so illegal in public. That was the glow of Nocturnal Equestria, some kind of luminescent paint they used in place of street lighting. She had to admit, Fluttershy didn’t lie about the view, at least. It was a wonderful view, marred only by the pegasus cloud city that floated over—

A shudder ran through her body when she realised that city wasn’t Royal Cloudsdale. It was its Nocturnal twin, Royal Free Cloudsdale or Free Cloudsdale for short. At least, she supposed, she hadn’t accidentally discorded by looking at the wrong one. Now that she had crossed the border, homotopic and heterotopic had switched over; Nocturnal Equestria was now homotopic, Diurnal Equestria was now heterotopic to her.

“I certainly hope things get resolved soon,” said Rarity as she turned away. The two Cloudsdales were far too close for comfort; neither city would withdraw until the other went first. “Not that I have anything against the fine ponies of Cloudsdale,” she added, deliberately neglecting to mention which Cloudsdale, “but—well, you know.” She frowned. “Is that an owl on your back?”

Her guide nodded silently in response as she shuffled nervously.

The owl wasn’t likely to be a pet. In fact, Rarity had just about caught sight of Fluttershy hiding a letter which the owl had no doubt delivered. “What a lovely accessory he has!” exclaimed Rarity as she gestured to the bow tie around his neck. “Cuts quite the dashing figure. You know, I’ve received commissions from clients to create clothing for their pets, but I find it’s not always necessary. A simple little bow can do wonders.”

“O-oh yes, quite,” agreed Fluttershy with a nod of her head. “Do you have a pet yourself, Mevrouw Rarity?”

Rarity mentioned her cat Opalescence. “I left her with my apartment manager,” she said as she watched the pegasus mare’s face brighten with joy. “Not that she needed it. She’s quite the independent animal, perhaps like your owl friend?”

“He comes and goes as he pleases,” replied Fluttershy as she smiled up at the owl. “Why, he just delivered a letter… from… my parents. Yes, from my parents! They live up there, you know.” She waved a wing towards the pegasus city above. “It’s really a very nice place once you get over the fact that it’s a flying fortress.”

“Did you have to do national service?” asked Rarity.

“All Nocturnal Equestrian subjects have to,” responded Fluttershy.

Rarity didn’t have to. All residents of Diurnal Ponyville were exempt from national service and tax as incentive for continuing to live there. She looked at her guide curiously. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine her doing national service at all.

It was perhaps best if she didn’t say anything about it.

“Let’s drop your luggage off at the hotel,” suggested Fluttershy after a while. “Then we can meet with Inquisitor Sparkle afterwards.” She whispered a few words to the owl, who hooted once in response before taking off.

“I’d greatly appreciate that,” responded Rarity as she watched the bird fly off in the direction of Everfree.

Nocturnal Ponyville was gradually taking on a cyan glow from the luminescent paint the Nocturnal Equestrians favoured. She suddenly noticed that what had once been a bare path now glowed with cyan blue arrows and signs. It was, she had to admit, a cute way of illuminating the night.

She suddenly noticed that Fluttershy was waiting for her a few paces away. “I’m sorry, dear,” apologised Rarity before she trotted towards her guide. “Let’s not keep the inquisitor waiting.”

Comments

[totallynotabrony]

Very interesting.

This was not the time for fashion

Yep, clearly this is alt universe.

Why not tagged for human?

[Starlight Nova]

If the journalist is from America, then shouldn't this story have a human tag?

[Ponygon]

7107862
Must have accidentally removed it when I was cleaning up the tags.

[Ponygon]

7107859
I'm glad you enjoyed what I've written so far. Fixed the tag problem, but AU Rarity will get a later chance to freak out over fashion. She is after all in a country where cutie marks are covered.

[Dafaddah]

(Parts bushes, leans out, adjusts small round-lensed glasses)
Verrry interesting! But no cyclotrons anywhere.
(Leans back and gap in bushes closes up.)

[Ponygon]

7147653

Gosh, you weren't kidding when you said you were going to Twilight this! Yeah, there's definitely no cyclotrons here. You'll see why later.

[totallynotabrony]

Six month checkup.

[Ponygon]

7632829

Thanks for the check up. I was up to chpater 8 but then something I introduced early on was hobbling the rest of the story so I had to cut it out, which meant rewrites. Hopefully I'll be able to release two chapters this weekend; I'll need to in order to stop myself from going back.

Speaking of check up...