Tales from Everfree City

by LoyalLiar

7-1 Herd It Through the Grapevine

VII

Herd It Through the Grapevine

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

VII - I

Sole Sisters

A flesh-and-blood (or rather, keratin) hoof steepled itself against its icy skysteel counterpart. The click of their brief union before parting and tapping together again was crisp, audibly pointed, and emblematic. There was no metallic ring as so many metal surfaces give, persisting after the collision. It sounded and passed, a quality that for all its muted volume it shared most of all with a crack of a whip, or of thunder.

"I'm sorry you've had such a hard day, Your Majesty."

Gale sighed, and visibly winced, but she didn't raise a vocal objection to the term from her seat at the opposite end of Hurricane's sitting room. There was, perhaps, something to be said for the fact that the unicorn daughter had secured Hurricane's chair (the very same one he had chastised me for sitting in when I had first seanced King Lapis), and that Typhoon was left to recline in Queen Platinum I's seat.

"What do we do, Ty—er, Commander?" Gale asked.

Typhoon's tan shoulders shrugged. The military mare had shed her black armor, at least, though its absence seemed to do nothing for the sternness of her posture, nor any other part of her body language. "Now, we decide who we blame."

Gale hung her head. "Just say it. It's my fault."

"That isn't true," Typhoon replied, lowering her hooves. "Whether what happened today was an accident caused by high emotions, or an actual attempt on your life, we cannot allow the public to believe that violence in the streets is a way to influence our government." Typhoon waited a moment, and gently adjusted her autumnal tricolor mane with a wing. "I would think I know you well enough to know your resolve is stronger than to be shaken by a few ponies shouting at you. But even if I'm wrong, and you're giving up on trying to integrate pegasi and earth ponies into the Stable, we can't let you take the blame for this."

A heavy breath left Gale's body, shifting her even lower into Hurricane's seat. "I… I guess I just assumed that's what you'd lead with. It seems like fucking everything else that's happened has somehow been my fault."

Typhoon bore a small smile. "It may not mean much coming from me, since Rain being in the Stable is to my advantage, but I think it's a good idea."

"Well, if I ever get the damn deal worked out, you owe me opening up some commissions for non-pegasi. Real officers, not auxilia engineer bullshit."

The request got Typhoon to smile a bit more. "I'm not going to force anypony to retire before they're ready, so those openings may take some time. But we'll keep making progress. I assume we'll need to loop Puddinghead in on this?"

Gale waved a hoof in the air. "Eventually… I'm not about to try and tackle earth ponies in the Stable yet. It's enough of a fight for Rain, and the nobles are way less snobbish about pegasi than earth ponies. But all that doesn't matter two shits right now, does it?" A low growl of frustration escaped Gale's chest as she leaned her head back on her neck and stared up at the ceiling. "If we're not blaming me, that leaves what? The civilians and the Legion?"

"Those are the two options I see." Typhoon tapped her hooves together again and closed her eyes. "Which brings us to the hard decision."

"What's hard about it?" Gale asked. "We can't blame the crowd; they're the ones who got hurt!"

"They are the ones who took hostile action," Typhoon countered. "I won't—I cannot stand for the Legion being blamed for following their training."

Gale scoffed. "What the fuck are you talking about? The Legion exists to protect Equestria! It's literally their job to manage this kind of thing without ponies getting hurt."

"No, for the dozenth time, it isn't." Typhoon's brow furrowed, and she closed her eyes. "I apologize, Gale. This is something your mother and Puddinghead and I have been arguing about in private for some time." A deep breath preceded what Gale immediately inferred was a set of points Typhoon had grown used to repeating. "The Legion's job may be to protect Equestria, yes, but it is an army." That last punctuated word was emphasized by a click of hoof on metal prosthetic. "Made up of soldiers." Another click, accompanied by the firmest of Typhoon's pointed looks. "Their training assumes the ponies in front of them are the enemy, and the subject of their protections are miles behind them. The Legion are not, and cannot be, city guards. You can train a pony to be a soldier, or a guard, but you can't expect the same pony to do both—unless you're comfortable with your guards treating civilians like they're enemy combatants."

Gale cocked her head. "So… why not form a separate group? Is this one of those 'the Legion is pegasus culture' things, or—?"

"Mobius, no, nothing like that. It's the almighty bit. Always bits." A distant look swept over Typhoon's face, and her eyes turned to the room's sole window. Judging by the shimmer in her ruby eyes, she saw through the drapes, and somewhere out onto the horizon. "They want the Legion as soldiers to push out our borders, to seize more land. And they tell me it's to keep the land we already have safe from all the monsters that crop up, but half the time I feel like I'm the one who actually cares about that. But then they want the Legion to deal with policing our cities, too—all right up until I explain the price tag. And then we end up with exactly this kind of mess. But that is absolutely not the fault of my soldiers. They saw a situation that posed a threat, and they reacted exactly the way they were trained to."

"Okay," Gale nodded. "So I'm with you that we need some kind of formal guards that aren't the army. But if somepony's to blame for this… is it really that hard to get the Legion not to break out swords on some rowdy… city ponies? Even just not to take swords out to guard duty at all?"

Typhoon let out a huff of breath. "It isn't that simple, Gale."

"Why not? I'd think a Legionary ought to be able to take most ponies on the street in a hooffight if it came to that—"

"And what does it look like for the rest of the Legion's morale when I force soldiers to stand on the streets unarmed and one of them gets killed? Or for that matter, what happens to the way the Legion looks at the civilian population? When suddenly they're put constantly on edge, because they do deal with the city's criminals, and sometimes those ponies are armed—but now they aren't."

"I don't see why going without weapons has to lead to that," Gale answered dismissively. "I mean, they're soldiers. They signed up to get in fights; that's the point of the job!"

This time, it was Typhoon's turn to roll her eyes. "You shouldn't assume you know what it's like to be a soldier, Gale."

"Shouldn't I? I went in and fought Wintershit, didn't I? What's a few angry earth ponies compared to that?"

Typhoon's eyes focused on her sister, and they narrowed harshly. "You chose that, Gale."

"And they chose to be Legionaries!"

"Yes, Gale, they did. Many of them, because it's a job. Or because their parents pressured them into it. But no matter why, once they're in, they aren't choosing their own fights anymore. That's part of what it means to be a commanding officer. It's one thing to equip your soldiers well and ask them to fight, knowing they might be hurt or killed; it's completely another to throw away lives like they're replaceable or worthless. Not only is that cruel, and a violation of everything it means to be a commanding officer, but when the Legion realized how you viewed them, there would be mass desertion. You wouldn't have a Legion left to command."

"Alright; you want to talk about commanding officers. Who was the centurion in charge?" Gale asked.

Typhoon's brow fell further. "Pinnacle. He's a good stallion, Gale—"

"You're the one who said we had to blame somepony. I'm fine just letting it fucking lie. Better than blaming the victims." Gale made a sort of nasal rumble of disgust, as if she was intending to use the room's floor as a spitoon. "Fuck. Now I'm suggesting blaming some poor bastard who probably didn't do shit because it's convenient… And the worst part is the more I think about it, the more I think it's probably right."

"It absolutely is not. I will not ruin one of my own soldier's lives—"

"I'm not saying you fucking arrest him, Typhoon. I'm saying you say it was… some watered down bullshit; 'a loss of control of the situation' or whatever. You know, something political."

"That isn't how I do things, Gale," Typhoon answered critically. "If you're willing to compromise the loyalty of your own subordinates, blame one of your knights, but I won't have any part of it."

Gale scoffed. "As if any of those geriatric fucks could kill somepony even if they wanted to. But in all seriousness, Ty—"

"I'm not going to pick on Commander when we're in private, but at least please use my full name."

"Ugh. Fine. Typhoon, nopony is going to buy any of the knights are to blame, because they were all clustered up around me or by the wagon when everything went to shit. We might not know who started this shit, but everypony there knows it wasn't them. As much as somepony being dead means there was a huge fuckup, the legionaries did a damn good job keeping the crowd behind their lines and mostly away from the knights, let alone me." Gale rolled her eyes. "As much as that would be convenient for both of us."

"You think the fact that it is convenient matters? I thought you knew better."

"I do know better! I…" Midway through her fierce words, enlightenment hit Gale like a particularly anachronistic freight train. Her chest, puffed with young rage and verbal bloodlust, sagged down on a dull exhale, and she slowly shook her head. "Mom was right. Fuck."

"What?"

"Bullshit like what's 'convenient' does matter, because we're never going to be in agreement. Because the right thing for you to do comes from the fact that you answer to the Legion first—probably before the rest of the pegasi if we're being honest."

"I don't—"

"Save your damn breath, Ty. I know it, you know—even if you won't admit it—and every fucking pony on the street knows it. But I don't owe the Legion shit, and where I'm standing, ponies shouldn't get murdered in the streets, even if they are rowdy or drunk or fuck knows whatever else they get up to."

"So you're willing to compromise on your morals because we're at an impasse?" Typhoon asked, obviously irked by the accusation of her loyalties to her constituents. "You would blame somepony as innocent as one of your knights, if it were convenient? You should know better."

Something about the judgemental, almost motherly tone in the voice of the mare who was, at least ostensibly only Gale's older half-sister set off a spark in the young queen. "Should I?" Gale leaned forward from Hurricane's seat, and then rose to standing fully. "Dad taught me to own up to my own shit. Even if it's a mistake." Gale took a firm step forward. "I'm not going to say anypony did anything on purpose. I'm not saying having the Legion be our street guardsponies is perfect. But at the end of the day, when somepony gets fucking stabbed, it's hard not to blame the one holding the sword. I'm not going to stand by and let you blame Satchel for her own death. So where I'm standing, either we compromise on somepony else, or you tell me how far up the chain you want the blame to go."

Typhoon brought her hooves together and didn't part them. She leaned forward in her own seat, and Gale caught the way her wings half-extended—potentially a way of letting of the heat and stress a pegasus torso builds up with feathers wrapped around it… but for a soldier of the Legion, also a threat.

"I cannot endorse turning this on the Legion, Gale," came calm but firm words. "Not on a Legionary. Not on a Centurion. Not even on my own head. I cannot put my name to it. It would do more harm to Equestria than sparing the crowds would heal."

"Why?" Gale pressed.

"Because I'd be putting you over them!" Typhoon finally snapped. Then the Legion mare brought her frigid prosthetic hoof up to rub her temple. "Because the Legion would see I favored my sister over them. And that is not the kind of trust one regains."

"It's just words! And I mean, fuck, I'm already doing you a favor getting Rain into the Stable, right? You can't call that a trade? If anypony in the Legion asks, tell them that was a deal we made, for all I care. Or if that isn't enough, name your godsdamn price. Give me something."

"I can't."

Gale practically shouted her well worn question. "You can't even compromise? Why? Why are you being so fucking stubborn on this?"

It was fatigue at that same question that drove Typhoon's tired answer as she deflated back into her seat, eyes wandering to the window once more. "You wouldn't understand. You've never been part of something like the Legion."

"And who's fucking fault is that?!" Gale roared, going so far as to light her horn, reach out, and grab onto Typhoon's chin—all to twist her head back and once more lock their eyes. "How many gods-damned years did I ask you—not even for an officer's commission, like Dad handed you on a silver fucking platter, but just a rank-and-file job? And no, I'm not stupid enough to think that's changing now that I'm wearing the fucking crown, but really? You have the motherfucking audacity to play that card with me?"

"You were too young," Typhoon answered tersely, eyes narrowing again. "You still are."

"Says the mare who got handed a Praetorian Centurion's title at sixteen." When Typhoon's eyes narrowed even further, Gale took it as a sign she'd landed a blow, and took a further pace forward across the sitting room. "Oh, right, you were just saying how I was too fucking young; you probably still think I believe all the bullshit fairytales about how you were so inspiring and such a good fighter that you somehow actually earned that! And believe me, I know being born into this Queen bullshit makes me one to talk—but at least nopony pretends I somehow earned it!" Gale was fuming at that point, striding forward until the sisters were easily in hoof's reach of one another.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Gale."

"Don't I?"

"You don't want to be in the Legion that young."

"Why not? It worked out for you!"

Compared to her earlier words, Gale had thought it a small jab. But when Typhoon's wings shot wide, and in a sudden terrifying hiss, ice coated her chair and the entire wall behind it in a gargantuan silhouette of her wingspan reaching from the floor of the room to the ceiling—and almost a foot thick in its blue-white center—in that moment, Gale realized she had gone too far.

"Typhoon, what did—"

"Go," Typhoon ordered, visibly quivering in place—though whether through exertion, or rage, or fatigue, or stars know what else, Gale could not say.

Gale hesitated for just a moment, raising a hoof as if to reach out and support her sister.

Typhoon raised her head and glared. And though there was no more ice, something like frost seemed to cloud her ruby eyes, and the very air in the sitting room dropped twenty, perhaps thirty degrees in the time it took to draw breath.

And so, heeding her sister's wish, Gale left her alone.

Only in the frigid embrace of loneliness did Typhoon allow herself to cry.

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

The Retching Wretch was, perhaps as its name implies, not the nicest bar in Everfree City. Originally built in the basement of an alchemist's shop on the southern side of the river Coltlumbia, at the most moist end of the aptly named Down Town district, the business was popular enough with the poor and downtrodden that, courtesy of an economy of scale, it soon came to occupy all three floors of the building, and expanded into a semi-closed balcony that leaned out over the river on supports that, if I'm being generous, could be called twigs with delusions of grandeur. Said balcony, while apparently sturdy enough to hold rowdy drunks and miserable masses alike above the river's waters, had a noticeable slant to its floor on some days, when the crowds were at their biggest.

The bar's name at that time was not, in fact, the name it opened under; rather, it came to be called The Retching Wretch after the fourth of fifth time that somepony, drunk to the point of being sick, made the mistake of leaning over the Coltlumbia to relieve their stomach, misunderestimated the slope of the floor, and plummeted about ten feet into the cold and surprisingly deep waters below.

Two mares (of varying familiarity to our story thus far) sat at a corner table, slanted that day at about a five percent grade, exhibiting varying degrees of fascination with the alcohol in front of them.

"...yeah, up here in Everfree, we don't get any fabric like that. I can get unicorn made stuff without too much trouble, but the best fabrics have to get shipped in from the earth pony trade guilds. And I guess they usually get taxed once in Lubuck, and then again at the ports here, so they cost a foreleg and a hindleg." Lark concluded the thought by tilting back a bottle of some cheap ale in her magic.

Her companion, a pink-orange sort of pegasus mare who wore a distinctive headdress over her dark green hair, nodded. "That may be, but what you do with the fabric is still amazing. I am surprised more Equestrians do not wear clothing more often. The designs you make are so beautiful; if we had such clothing in my home, I would surely wear such outfits every day!"

The second mare in question was Somnambula, the youngest of Star Swirl's traveling companions, and a longtime friend of Gale and Lark's—albeit more distant than that duo, as her frequent travels meant she could only join her Everfree City friends once in a blue moon. I myself had only met the mare twice—once upon my very first awakening after defeating Wintershimmer, and once at Gale's birthday party—but since she has not majorly appeared in our story, I will note she was something like Blizzard's age, and that she favored the traditional eye makeup and spoke with the traditional accent of her homeland, Mahrdina.

"You'd better not let Gale catch you saying that. She hates dressing up. And I'm sure if you gave her the option, I'd bet she'd take what you're wearing over Equestrian fashion any day. It's certainly lighter…" Lark took a brave swig, and a hint of a blush accompanied the words "a lot more see-through too."

"Hmm… do you think she would like to trade, then?" Somnambula's drink, wrapped in her feathers, was only hesitantly nursed with a miniscule swig. "Or you, Lark?"

"You think I can afford dresses like that?" Lark scoffed. "Believe me, I'd trade you in a heartbeat. But being a hoofmaiden doesn't pay that well."

"Whyever not? Surely, if not to out of respect for you, the nobleponies would at least pay their servants well to make sure their secrets are kept?"

"Oh, I'm sure the real 'noble-enough' hoofservants make good bits. But it's a miracle I have the job at all, and old Platinum didn't exactly want to let me forget that. Maybe I can ask…" Her words trailed off as Lark took notice that a figure was wandering toward them with a beer held by her lit horn. She wasn't drunk enough to be lost, at least judging by her steady gait, and given how far out of the way she had to go to even be pointed at their distant (and slanted) corner seats. Her mane was a rather hideous brilliant blue, streaked with blonde highlights, riffed back in the fashion Lubuck's richest and most ambitious brokers of stock and futures would embrace some two hundred years into her future, and her eyeshadow made that manestyle seem conservative by comparison.

"Hey, miss; booth's taken!"

"You think I don't fucking see that, Lark?"

The voice (as well as the language) were unmistakably Gale's, but from her appearance, Lark had to do a double take. "Gale?"

"You think I put on all this makeup so you could call my fucking name out loud?" Gale hissed as she slid into a seat (increasing the grade of the already sloped balcony). "Hi, Somna."

"Gale!" Somnambula answered enthusiastically, though quietly.

Gale was, only moments later, nearly tackled out of the booth by the force of Lark's embrace. Her only saving grace, really, was the fact that Gale was in her own lean way a surprisingly powerful mare—especially for a young unicorn noble. Lark would later memorably reflect that hugging Gale sometimes reminded her of a rock. In that moment, though, she tersely opened with "Holy shit; I heard about what happened—are you okay?"

"I'll survive," Gale reluctantly and hesitantly replied. "I just got out of talking with Typhoon about it."

"Ah, that is good!" Somnambula announced, showing both admirable optimism and damning naivete. "But then… why are you wearing a disguise?"

"You think anypony wants to see me out on the fucking street?" Gale took a heady sip of her bready beverage. "And it's not makeup; it's a potion I picked up from Spicy when we were visiting. I guess horn magic has a hard time with manes and tails, or something. Not that I could do that kind of bullshit even if it is possible."

"Is that why your real mane color is showing through in places?" Lark asked. "The potion is wearing off?"

Gale shrugged. "Beats me; I never tried it before. I only had the one. But I needed to talk to somepony who isn't wrapped up in all this shit, and I'm not exactly the most popular pony in the world right now."

"Well, we're glad to have your company, Your Majesty," said Somnambula.

"Fucking can the title, right now," Gale answered tersely, before hanging her head. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't snap. It's already got me in enough trouble today. What did you two hear about the Stable?"

"There was a riot," Lark answered. "Somepony died. And you, uh… didn't get the lands everypony wanted. Did you shout at the ponies there, or—"

"What? No! Well, I mean, I shouted at the Stable a bit, sure, but not anypony outside." Gale waved a hoof in the air. "I meant I shouted at Ty."

"Ah," Lark acknowledged with a sagacious nod.

"You yelled at Commander Typhoon?" Somnambula asked. "Is she not your sister? Or… half-sister, I guess?"

"Half-sister. Aunt. Mom, sometimes. Take your fucking pick." Gale sloshed down another sip of her beer and slouched down on the table. "But now this whole 'Queen' thing has ruined all of that too."

Lark raised a brow. "I… maybe I got the wrong impression, but you never seemed to be that close to the Commander. Not since I've known you, anyway."

"It was better when I was little," Gale admitted, staring into her drink but refraining from another sizeable swallow. "I don't even know what changed. I guess just… realizing it was always going to end up this way. That us being friends would get in the way?" Gale's willpower came up short in that moment, and she drained a too-long-by-half swig of the oaty stuff, before letting out a satisfied sigh, as if some weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "I hate it."

"You hate being Queen?" Lark asked over her own beverage, leaning back into the unnatural curve of their seats without apparent care for the danger it represented. "It's not like you to give up on something that soon."

"Fuck no," Gale snapped, raising a forehoof across her torso as if about to elbow her friend in the ribs. Then, dejectedly, she lowered the limb slowly. "I still want to do things. But… arguing with Typhoon, I realized the things Mom used to say are true. All the shit I hated." Gale slipped into her royal voice, and though she emulated the elder Queen Platinum's voice, there was less mockery in the emulation than usual. "In diplomacy, everypony is the hero of their own story, and the villain of everypony else's. Perspective is a mirrored sword; remember both the blade and the looking glass. Sometimes the most noble sacrifice is one's own moral superiority. That stuff."

"I don't follow…" Somnambula noted. "Why would one be called noble for sacrificing their morals?"

The perfectly innocent question saw Gale lower her muzzle until her horn and forehead rested on the tavern's table. "It's a shitty thing to do to blame one of my old knights who's near retirement anyway. But it would be a compromise Typhoon and I need, because she won't blame the Legion, and it's better than hurting all of Equestria's faith in my rule by letting the blame fall on the victims."

"Celestia…" Lark muttered. "Are you actually going to blame one of the knights? One of the old ones you don't like? Gauntlet, maybe?"

"I have no idea," Gale admitted. "But no… I don't think I can pick on somepony I don't like.
I'd have to talk to them ahead of time, give them some bits so they could retire in comfort. And they'd hate me for it. Maybe all the knights would, but… Fuck, I don't know. Maybe I just bite down on the fucking blade and let Typhoon blame the rioters. At that point, either way I'm just as shitty to somepony who doesn't deserve it, and it's just a matter of how much it hurts me."

"Well…" Somnambula hesitated. "You know we are here for you. We are your friends, Gale. But if it is advice you need, perhaps—"

"I don't need advice. I know I could go to Mom. Or Aunt Chrysoprase. Or use that spell Morty taught me and talk to whatever dead ponies I damn well please. I just need to breathe for two seconds. Today has been, bar none, the shittiest day of my life. My big plan for un-fucking the mess Mom made of the Stable might be up shit creek before it's even started, somepony is fucking dead at least in part because of me, and now my sister won't talk to me." Gale drained another swallow of her drink, discovered she had drained it, and then floated some coins to a passing waiter. "And I know, 'boo hoo, you're the fucking Queen of the Unicorns'... I just guess I thought that somehow I'd be able to keep it from shitting all over my personal life."

Lark set a hoof on Gale's shoulder, looking her dead in the eyes. "Gale, you're allowed to want some sympathy. You don't have to shoulder everything on your own."

"I'm worried I do," Gale answered, fleeing her old friend's gaze in favor of staring into a new beer as it was delivered by the aforementioned waiter. "I'm worried the more I realize Mom was right, the more I'm gonna turn into her. And I'll fuck over everypony close to me, like I did when Morty and I visited Castle."

"What?" Lark asked. "What happened?"

Gale refused to answer until she had raised her new mug to her lips for another too long drink. "Morty got in a fight with Castle about nobles. And Morty was in the fucking right, no questions asked. But I played along with Castle and Chrysoprase because I didn't want anypony to know about us."

"What about you?" Somnambula asked. "Oh, wait… are you a couple?"

Lark chuckled. "You didn't hear Gale gave him a hornjob in the middle of court?"

"I was distracting Ty and Mom because Aunt Luna was being a bitch," Gale grumbled.

"Oh, bullshit, you were enjoying it." Lark chuckled. "I know how into it you can get, remember?"

Somnambula, blushing slightly, looked between Lark and Gale with her wings ever so subtly raised at the shoulder as the other two friends shared a rather fierce staring match. Finally, the poor mare shook her head to clear her thoughts. "No, I had not heard that. And, Gale, though I know I haven't known you as long as Lark, I would like to think four years is enough time to have gotten to know the kind of pony you are. So have no fear; you will never become the mare you fear."

Gale chuckled, but a dark part of her mind couldn't resist wondering aloud "Is that worse?"

"You could always be like your Dad," Lark noted. "I mean, he was pretty great, right? He sure seems nice to me, and of course everypony knows the stories—"

"They're mostly bullshit," Gale interrupted. "But hopefully you're right."

"If not him, perhaps Typhoon?" Somnambula suggested. "Your argument aside, she seems like a noble enough mare." Then, with hesitance in the form of a wince, she added "I mean 'noble' as in 'good', not like your suitors. And if she was close to you… I mean, if she is close..."

"I know what you mean, Somna. But yeah. Ty and I used to be close, when I was little. She'd let me fly around on her back, and she'd take me to see the Legion train, and… I dunno, sister shit. But these days, it seems like she's got a stick up her ass that she's a lot more worried about than me."

"If you had to stick up your ass, Gale, it'd probably be the first thing on your mind," Somnambula observed.

Lark and Gale both stared at the desert mare for a few good seconds, before turning to each other with almost matching looks of confusion.

"Did I say it wrong?" Somnambula asked. "I thought that would be how you made that joke in Equestria."

Lark let out a laugh she clearly didn't respect, while Gale hung her head in her hooves, disappointed in herself at finding the mistake so funny. "That's perfect, Somna."

"I only can hope it helps," Somnambula answered. "So what came of your argument?"

"I… don't know? I mean, we've argued before. When she wouldn't let me join the Legion, that sort of shit. But today, I guess I said something that set her off completely, and I have no fucking clue what it was."

"Are you looking to apologize?" Somnambula asked.

Gale answered with a shrug. "Personally, yes. As Queen… I don't know if I even should. I still don't think she's right. But… Probably? I mean, I assume so. I dunno if you've ever seen her really use her magic, Somna, but usually she keeps a pretty tight lid on her ice. But whatever I said, it made her let her ice out."

"A lot?"

Gale nodded. "You remember what I told you about Solemn Vow's corpse? Under Morty's house? Like that."

"Holy shit," Lark whispered. "What did you say to make her do something like that?"

"I don't know!" Gale answered. "That's what I came here for."

"Why?" Somnambula pressed, leaning forward over the table. "Do not get me wrong, I would love to help, but she is your sister. Apart from my brief offer of marriage, I did not exactly know the mare."

Somnambula's reference to an offer of marriage was the result of some complex Mahrdinian customs about the relationship between rulers and their priestesses, combined with a misunderstanding of Commander Hurricane's age and marital status at the time. It would perhaps take too many paragraphs to explain fully here. Suffice it to say that Somnambula, three years Gale's elder, had been merely sixteen at the time.

"And surely if you want advice on Commander Typhoon, your own family would know better than us?" Somnambula concluded.

"Dad's asleep, and if there's anything he talks about even fucking less than what happened to him in Dioda, it's Ty. So my next best idea is Frostfall… but for that, I need a chariot up to Cloudsdale, and it's the middle of the night—"

"I don't mind," Somnambula offered. "If you have a chariot, that is. I don't own one myself."

"You're sure? It might be a late night."

Somnambula shrugged. "Better than staking out sirens for three days in the hills. And it is for a good cause—not just for Equestria, but for you two as sisters."

"Are you sure you want to do this tonight?" Lark asked. "You might be able to just talk to Typhoon in the morning, face-to-face. A lot of problems calm down with just a night's sleep. And if you'll forgive me being really honest, you kinda jumped down Somna's throat just for calling you 'Your Majesty'. Do you think maybe you need a break yourself?"

Gale answered by staring down at her bottle, and then affording herself another drink. "Probably. But tomorrow, I'm starting the day off having breakfast with Peanut to talk about smoothing things over with the earth pony delegation to Parliament. And who knows how busy I am. I don't want to let this hang if I can help it."

"Alright," Lark agreed with a nod. "But you need to let us come with you."

"I—Lark, this isn't your fight."

"It will be if I have to sit through another awkward-as-fuck breakfast at your Dad's place, and it's even worse because you and Commander Typhoon are on the verge of killing each other. You need somepony to make sure you don't lose your temper at Frostfall too." Lark nodded across the table. "I don't mean to speak for you, though, Somnambula. We need you for the chariot, obviously, but you don't need to stick your nose in this. Gale has a tendency to cause problems.and you probably don't want to get roped into them."

I will note, for the sake of the reader's understanding of Gale's trust in her hoofmaiden to accompany her on such a diplomatically perilous task, that Lark accompanied that final sentence with a heavy-hoofed wink in Gale's direction, which caused the latter mare to let out a not-especially subtle chuckle.

Somnambula, bless her heart, cocked her head to the side for a good three seconds, and then broke into a smile. "Ah, this is another joke about intimate romance?"

Comments

[RoboRed]

I forget, has there been a point where this story or Beginner's Guide have gone over the details of Pegasus Empatha? Because ooof...there's a bit of extra detail there behind the ice if you know.

"I know what you mean, Somna. But yeah. Ty and I used to be close, when I was little. She'd let me fly around on her back, and she'd take me to see the Legion train, and… I dunno, sister shit. But these days, it seems like she's got a stick up her ass that she's a lot more worried about than me."

"If you had to stick up your ass, Gale, it'd probably be the first thing on your mind," Somnambula observed.

Okay that got a good laugh out of me.

[LoyalLiar]

10882678
Certainly there's nowhere as blunt as when Dead Reckoning explains it to Rainbow in Honor Guard, but Blizzard does give the basics of the elemental mappings in Ch. 32 of BGH.