What *is* The Wergild For a Rabbit, Anyway?
Fluttershy clattered out of the Everfree’s treeline, panting in exertion and coat coated in froth. Her forehoof caught on a knurled root, sending her face-first into the grass, contents of a ripped right saddlebag (one puukko knife and a topologically unlikely amount of rice cakes) spilling out into the emerald sea of lovely bluegrass that carpeted Ponyville’s immediate surrounding.
“Fuck.” It was a well-deserved utterance, one that expressed both a relief from clearing the edges of the forest and despair at the loss of a full week’s worth of starchy sustenance to the waves of grass.
Were Rarity, who had stumbled out of the Everfree a few moments later, not currently upchucking the paltry contents of her stomach, which, as she had correctly predicted, had already gone through four rounds of such, she would have joined Fluttershy in cathartic swearing. As it were, she mostly just produced a bunch of unpleasantly wet gurgles.
It was, as she had said, most unseemly.
“You – huff – alright back there, Rarity?” asked Fluttershy. She knew the answer, of course: obviously not, but determining if Rarity could respond at all was important in determining their next destination.
“Obviously – hurk – not, dear,” said a spittle-soaked Rarity, who punctuated her response with a most unladylike final spit of bile. “Heavens above, I think I’ve puked out last year’s birthday cake at this point. Do we have any water left?”
Fluttershy pulled a canteen from her left bag, giving it a jiggle to listen for any sloshing; to her displeasure, there wasn’t even a hint of liquid remaining. Frowning, she opened the top and inverted the container, watching as a single drop ran out of the opening. “No.”
“Urgh. I suppose that figures, considering how much I’ve imbibed over the past hour or so.” She raised her head to level, turning from to side to side and taking in the surroundings. “I really do hate to be dramatic, Fluttershy, but I must hope we are nearing civilization at this point. I have serious doubts I will make it much farther without keeling over dead, and I would hate to fail quite this close to home after such a tremendous effort.”
And, indeed, it had been a tremendous effort. Even after the incendiary escape from the pack of wolves, there had been a few hours of incredibly treacherous forest to go. While the few remaining wolves that shadowed the group could be scared off by pointing Rarity, who was still at the time on Fluttershy’s back, at them and making “woosh” noises, there were other threats to contend with, not to mention the sheer physical exertion of carrying another body through the woods. Mercifully, Rarity had regained the ability to walk after the first thirty minutes or so, and the pathway out had been made relatively clear by the breaks in the canopy where the griffon had broken through to rest.
“We’re not that far,” reassured Fluttershy, who had retrieved her puukko and was now working on stuffing a few of the rice cakes into the remaining intact saddlebag. “It’s about a ten minute walk to the cottage from here. We’re on the, um, side away from town, which is why you don’t recognize it.” She, satisfied with her retrieval of at least half of her food, eyed her shaking companion. She would like to say she had seen worse, but the trembling form of Rarity, who was missing the majority of her mane and was coated in a truly wretched mixture of grass stains, soot, and her own fluids, was, truthfully, about the worst she had seen. “Do you need me to, uh. carry you that far?”
“I should manage at least that far, I think. Would you mind sending for a doctor when we get back? I doubt I would make the hospital, and I really ought to be seen to before I, er, perish.”
“Certainly. I was going to get him for me anyway.” In truth, Fluttershy could have set the bones in her wing herself, but it wasn’t like she was going to miss out on care she could charge the crown if she had the choice. She set off at a trot, heading over the hills.
Her Immortal, Imperial, and Celestial Majesty Princess Luna, first of her name, second of her blood, and, generally, fourth in the Canterlot Beat “Princess Popularity Poll,” was having a terrible day.
Of course, simply being around for the day was already bad enough. By all accounts, Luna was a pony who needed her beauty sleep, and four in the afternoon generally saw Luna utterly zonked in her bedchambers.
A typical day, then, certainly did not involve her royal highness chasing down a national heroine and a foul-tempered griffon herself. Nor did it involve, due to the mysterious indisposition of Ponyville’s own princess, her interrogating members of the public, which, as Luna had hilariously still not been given any guards or underlings of note, meant she was reduced to knocking on doors and asking members of the public for the whereabouts of the errant ambassador, much to the shock of those questioned.
“How ‘bout you come back with a fucking warrant and – oh dear Celestia–”
“Please cease grovelling,” implored Luna over a levitated mug of coffee for the fifth time this morning.
Eventually, Luna decided that, in light of her failure to find either member of the group, she was best off waiting it out at Fluttershy’s cottage. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do anyway, and, in all honestly, there was a certain appeal to a nice day spent in the outdoors, far enough away from civilization to give a blessed solitude.
Well, solitude except for all the animals, that was.
“Unhand that, infernal rodent! ‘Tis an irreplaceable artifact, and one which our sister will be quite displeased with us losing!” She might even deny Luna her favorite modern luxury; canned soda. She found the bubbles to be delightful.
Undaunted, the brave little rabbit stood over the stolen crown which he had liberated from a napping Luna with a skillful kick.
Luna dropped her front legs into a crouch, drawing face to face with the smirking rabbit. The rabbit kicked her in the snout, sending her recoiling back with nose scrunched. “The cheek! Thou draw ever nearer to a swift demise, churl”
The rabbit made a rude gesture, which was especially impressive considering his lack of thumbs.
Luna stamped a foot in frustration, horn lighting and dragging the rabbit, priceless tiara still firmly in paw, into the air. “Moon and Stars you are insolent! Were we in days a thousand years foregone a fine hat you would have already become.” She shook the rabbit slightly, crown clattering in his paws. “Ach! I may make a headpiece of thou yet, for it has been too long since we have practiced a bit of taxidermy. We wonder what fair Fluttershy would exact from us in blood-price for your death. It is a price we would gladly pay, so long as it does not exceed our, er, rather meager allowance.”
Apparently convinced of the seriousness of Luna’s threat, the bunny held out the crown in a show of remorseful fealty.
“Finally! You concede to–”
The rabbit dropped the second half of Equestria’s crown regalia into a mud puddle.
“IMPUDENCE! THE TEMERITY!” The rabbit’s face stretched back, ears flagging in the force of Luna’s voice like wind socks. “I assure thee, thy demise will be painful, and we will not–”
“WHUMP.” By her first impression, a waterlogged sack of potatoes resounded from behind the princess.
Frowning, Luna gave the rabbit a few more shakes, finding, to her immeasurable disappointment, he could not produce meaty smacks on demand, which would have made for phenomenal throne-room hijinks. She flung the rabbit away, turning around to find –
“Oh!”
Luna had been expecting the ambassador to return, of course: even if Twilight’s pick for gamekeeper were to be truly incompetent, which she doubted Fluttershy was, a griffon with any sense of self-preservation could just about fly out without too much trouble, even if it would require a few treacherous stops.
She had not expected, however, for that once-haughty griffon to return in quite so undignified of a state. Had she not known better, she, judging by the missing boot and tattered clothing, would have guessed the griffon had just gone nine rounds with a wolverine, an impression not helped by the impressive smears of blood on his previously lovely brocaded vest, nor by the sheer velocity at which he had just hit the ground.
“Ambassador Ingvar? You were not injured in the field, were you? I must confess my skills in bone-setting have atrophied in the millennia, but will be able to provide at least rudimentary aid.”
The crumpled griffon grumbled a few times before returning to at least a semi-lucid state. “No, that will be unnecessary, Princess–” He froze. “P–Princess Luna?”
“You are correct, yes,” confirmed the Princess, who was currently attempting to shake mud off of her regalia.
The griffon shot up from the ground, launching himself into a mostly-steady kowtow. “Princess Luna! I beseech you, please do not take my initial reaction as a slight against one so radiant as yourself.”
Luna hated when the grovelers used the word “radiant.” That was her sister’s word. “Please, ambassador, do stand up. We took no offense from your arrival. We are no stranger to the vigor of a hunt, nor to the exhaustion which undoubtedly will follow.”
The ambassador did as he was told, standing back into a mostly erect position, although his wings continued to twitch. “A thousand thanks, your highness.” He checked a wing, pulling out an errant feather with a claw. “I must ask, though; what, exactly, brought one of the Diarchy out to such an, er, eclectic locale as your warden’s cottage?”
“Oh, here? The land is part of my demesne. ‘Tis a personal favorite for a lovely summer’s day.”
“Oh? It’s, er, quite the, ah, rustic retreat, Princess. Very in vogue, I hear.”
Luna chuckled. “We jest, ambassador. Cease your flattery.” Luna, satisfied with the removal of most of the mud from her crown, placed it into a rough spun burlap saddlebag for safe-keeping. “Nay, by our sister’s command we did come to speak with either yourself or with our, ah, duly appointed warden.” Luna frowned, peering around the griffon and glancing into the sky. “Er, speaking of, where is our warden, ambassador? She has not come to harm, has she?”
“No! Well, er, actually, yes, she has.” He tugged at his collar. “She had died. Tragically, you see. But bravely!”
Luna paused in her sky-gazing, eyes shooting back down to the griffon. “Died, you say?”
The girls stumbled over a hill, Rarity leaning heavily against Fluttershy’s side.
“Good goddess, how long is a ten minute walk?” grumbled Rarity.
“Ten minutes,” deadpanned Fluttershy, wincing from the pressure Rarity put on her wounded wing. She though about asking her to swap to the other side, but that one was wounded too, so it really wasn’t much of a solution.
“Oh, please don’t be pedantic, Fluttershy. I don’t have the energy to snark – shit!” Rarity stumbled over her forehooves, falling to the dirt with rump high in the air.
Fluttershy paused, turning her head to look at her fallen comrade. “Need some help, Rarity?”
“Certainly,” she groaned. “Would you mind sticking one of those knives of yours into my carotid artery? I think that would be best at this point.”
Fluttershy rolled her eyes. “Come on Rarity, it’s only over this hill, we’re almost there.” She gently pulled Rarity to her hooves. “Besides, we’ve got to make it back so we can tell somepony about what happened.” She shuddered. “I certainly hope he doesn’t get away with murder, and seeing him brought to justice would be, um, satisfying.”
“Attempted,” Rarity corrected, “as we are still breathing. And yes, I suppose it would be. I must say I do relish the though of meeting him again, hopefully away from any trees this time." She muttered darkly. "And with rifle in hoof, preferably."
“Rarity!” Fluttershy admonished. “Surely you don’t mean that! Our princesses will be more than capable of handling the situation without our involvement. Furthermore, surely you know that – that – that – pffft” Fluttershy broke into laughter, falling back onto her haunches. It wasn’t quite a true full-bellied guffaw – this was still Fluttershy, after all – but it was still a deeply cathartic and unusually brash chuckle. “I – snort – almost made it though that one, phew.”
Rarity chuckled. “Mmm, yes, it is quite humorous, isn’t it? Rarity and Fluttershy, doom-driven mares set on vengeance like the protagonists of some sort of tawdry Western paperback.” She tugged at the sling of her rifle, swinging it around to her front, noting, with intense displeasure, the damage it had received.
“Maybe we could ask Applejack if we could borrow her hat? It would seem, uh, fitting.”
“I think at this point I’d settle for any hat.” Rarity rubbed a hoof among the charred remains of what used to be the forelocks of her mane with a scowl. “I fear I may die upon seeing a mirror.”
“I’ll be sure to cover mine once I get you inside.” Fluttershy stood back up. “Now come on, it’s just over this crest.”
“Urgh, another one?”
“It’s barely a hill anyway. Look, you can already see my house from – no, that’s impossible.” Fluttershy’s jaw dropped. “He wouldn’t.”
“What?” Rarity trotted up to the crest. “Your mysterious lover isn’t – you have to be shitting me.”
“We see,” said Luna, lying. “Ah, ambassador, do explain the incident with the manticore?”
“Ah, well, you see, your majesty, we came upon a juvenile manticore, which, as a knowledgeable griffon, I naturally wanted to avoid.”
“Naturally, yes.”
The griffon continued, fanning himself with a wingtip. “Er, yes, but, unfortunately, the white unicorn, ah, Rarity, I believe, she wanted to take the manticore for a trophy, and so fired a shot which merely clipped the beast.”
“Uh-huh.” Luna cocked an eyebrow. “Fair lady Rarity did attack a beast against both your and mistress Fluttershy’s protestations?”
The griffon nodded vigorously. “Oh yes! She was quite insistent, as she wanted the skin for a sort of hood. Quite macabre, in my estimation, albeit I suppose it does have a certain noble air of antiquity, you know.”
“We are quite familiar with the headgear, ambassador. The legions which you reference were rather more recent history to us once.” She smiled wistfully. Those were some awfully nice hats. “We presume this is where your compatriots met an untimely end?”
“Er, no, I managed to fight the manticore off with a well-placed knife thrust. I would have preferred a boar spear, of course, as the proximity to the quarry left my vest well within range of a striking paw, hence its current state.” He plucked a stray thread away from the former site of his top button.
“Really?” Luna’s other eyebrow joined its twin in elevation. “We must say, even we have never taken such a beast with naught but a dagger; a short tuck once, yes, but never a true sidearm.”
“A ‘tuck’?”
“Ah, an, er, ‘estoc’ to you.” Luna grumbled. Damned foreigners. “Please continue, as we wish to have a clear account of the demise of two of our national heroes when we break the news to our sister. No doubt it shall make for a fine window.”
The griffon squeaked slightly, taking an audible gulp. “Ah, well, after I dispatched the manticore it became immediately obvious that a pack of timberwolves had taken our scent, you see, which …”
“Why?” pondered Fluttershy aloud, now sitting on her rump at the crest of the hill. “Why would he come back here?’
“Outside of it being the first sign of civilization from out of the Everfree?” Rarity fully unslung the rifle, joining Fluttershy in sitting back on her haunches. “I suppose if one were to ransack a house for traveling supplies one would do best to pillage one surely uninhabited.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Fluttershy squinted her eyes. “It doesn’t look like he’s really, uh, moving, though. He’s kinda just standing there behind the house.”
“Maybe he’s looking for a way in?” Rarity opened the patchbox, eyeing the miraculously undamaged cartridge within. She lit her horn, pulling the – “Oh.” She gave her horn a quick tap, wincing from the contact but not feeling the telltale tingles of magical activity. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever burned out quite this badly.”
“Pain?” asked Fluttershy.
“Hardly any, really. It just doesn’t work.” Rarity squished her face in effort for a few seconds, then relaxed, her brows furrowing in concern. “Nope, nothing. I just thought about moving that cartridge with as much gusto as I could and I didn’t feel so much as a foalish tingle.”
“Is that, uh, normal?”
“Not even a little bit,” replied Rarity, who had resorted to pulling the cartridge from the patchbox by her teeth. She tore the paper, pouring a bit of the powder onto the priming pan and the rest down the now scuffed crown of the rifle’s muzzle and seating the ball with a quick hoof tap. “I can’t say I’ve even heard of quite such an extreme symptom.”
Fluttershy peered at Rarity’s horn, which looked like it had been subjected to an over-fired pottery kiln. “Uh-huh. I hope it’s not, uh, permanent.”
Rarity paused for a second, then shrugged, extracting the ramrod from under the barrel with her right hoof and giving the ball a few good whacks. “That’s a problem for future Rarity to worry about, who has all the time in the world to worry whilst she recuperates from a concussion on the crown’s dime. Present Rarity is putting that out of mind.”
“Seems, uh, pragmatic?” Fluttershy looked back at the griffon. “I still can’t tell exactly what he’s doing. I think he’s talking to somepony?” She squinted.
“Aren’t pegasi supposed to have good eyesight?” Rarity continued ramming the shot down the bore, the rod extending further into the barrel with every thrust. “Rainbow Dash can, if you believe her bragging, read mailbox numbers from the clouds, yes?”
“I’m, uh, nearsighted,” Fluttershy admitted. “Not much of a pegasus, I’m afraid.”
“Well!” Rarity scoffed. “That may be, but you are quite the specimen of ponykind nonetheless. I daresay few ponies of any flavor would be able to haul a grown mare through a forest.”
Fluttershy blushed. “Oh, well, I suppose that is, um, fairly impressive, huh?”
“Very.” Rarity emphasized, finishing her ramming with a solid “thunk” before extracting and stowing the ramrod back into its holder. “Kindly fetch the winding key from my bags? I think if I tilted my head that far back my brains might run out of my ears.”
Fluttershy dutifully stuck her muzzle into the Rarity’s saddlebag, pulling out an embossed silver wrench in her teeth.
Rarity nodded in confirmation, lifting the rifle towards her. “That’s it dear. Mind winding the action? It only takes a single turn.”
Fluttershy complied, placing the key onto the square peg and giving it a turn. She pulled away, walking back around Rarity to deposit the key back into the bag next to an empty canteen and, of all things, a mother of pearl snuff box.
“Excellent.” Rarity lowered the rifle back into her lap. “Now, would you mind, ah, lying down in front of me? On your stomach, please."
Fluttershy eyed her suspiciously. “I guess I can. What for?”
“Shooting rest.” clarified Rarity, flipping the pyrite onto the wheel. “Do try and hold still, hmm?”
“Would you mind, ah, demonstrating the particulars of the scene? I must confess that I am having considerable difficulty envisioning the means by which you immolated two slavering timberwolves with naught but mistress Rarity’s, er–” Luna’s brow furrowed in thought. “–incendiary flint wheel, yes?”
“A lighter, your grace.” the griffon corrected. “And I would be more than happy to demonstrate the particulars of the scene.” He stepped backwards, gesturing with claw in a polite request for Luna to follow. “Now, imagine that I am backed into a great tree, yes?”
Luna rounded the griffon to observe from the indicated position. “You said they positioned themselves in a defensive screen to your front, correct?”
“Yes, as the wolves had gathered to the front and were closing. Now, by then I had noticed the thick carpeting of pine straw, and thus the potential for an attack with flame. Now…”
“You can make a shot from this, um, far away?” Fluttershy asked the mare currently draped across her back.
“Under ideal conditions? Easily.” Rarity lifted her head from the comb. “Under the present circumstances, and in my current condition?” She shrugged, readjusting the position of her foreleg against Fluttershy’s spine. “Probably. To be perfectly honest, I’m not even sure the powder is going to go off, so it’s all a bit of a crapshoot.”
“Well, let’s just hope – wait, he’s moving.” Fluttershy squinted. “He’s showing somepony, or, um, someone, maybe, something.”
“He does seem to be gesturing quite vigorously. Perhaps he’s –” Rarity gasped. “–It’s Twilight. Twilight is at your house. Twilight is talking to him”
“What?” Fluttershy turned her head back toward her house. “Why would Twilight be at my house?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea, Fluttershy.” Rarity furrowed her brow. “Maybe Spike finally roused her and informed her of the situation? Perhaps she fashions her mysterious stimulant from woodland creatures?”
“I guess.” Fluttershy squinted. “Wait, that’s not Twilight! That’s Princess Luna!”
Rarity scoffed. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous dear. If it’s unlikely Twilight would be here, it’s absolutely ludicrous to think Luna would be. She has much more important things to do, like, er…” Rarity thought for a second. “Well, no, she probably doesn’t, actually. But still!”
“See? And that pony is definitely blue.”
“Fluttershy, she’s wearing saddlebags. I seriously doubt the diarchy even owns a pair of saddlebags.” Rarity shook her head. “And where are her guards, or, for that matter, her regalia? We would quite easily be able to see the sun glinting off of the white gold and aquamarine.”
“Maybe she dropped it in a puddle or something, I don’t know,” retorted Fluttershy. “But there’s only one blue alicorn, and it’s not Twilight.”
“Hmph!” Rarity grumbled. “Well, I still think it’s Twilight.”
“Agree to, um, disagree, I guess.” Fluttershy shifted a little, the weight of the pudgy unicorn starting to cramp a wing. “Whatever the case, she’s right next to him, so maybe we should, uh, not do, um, this. I don’t want to, uh, shoot the princess on accident.”
“That might be wise, yes.” Rarity lowered her head back to the comb. “I can’t even say with any kind of confidence that the sights are undamaged. The zero could be wildly off, for all I know.”
“I don’t know what a ‘zero’ is, but, yeah, we might should wait,” agreed Fluttershy.
The two mares sat in silence for a moment.
Rarity spoke first. “…Or…”
“Now, pray tell us, did you lay eyes on the corpses of our subjects?”
“Er, no, your eminence. By their command, we fled at once from the scene when it became clear it was a forlorn hope.”
“We see. But you are confident they met their demise at that very scene?”
“Quite, princess.” He raised a claw, pointing at the princess for emphasis. “And we believe it was likely a most gruesome death. You see, the flames had spread to the limbs of a nearby pine, and–”
With a wet “crunch,” the ambassador dropped like a stone, his head now possessing exactly two more holes than it had a moment before. Judging by the rattling emanating from his chest, it would seem that Luna would never hear exactly how gruesome the Bearers supposed deaths were. A sharp crack reverberated from the hills to Luna’s left a mere moment later.
“Oh,” said Luna, stepping back to avoid the growing puddle. She turned her head to look at the sound, unable to discern much except a cloud of white smoke. “Methinks the ambassador may have spake a fair few falsehoods.”
“‘Substandard’ my alabaster ass, you pompous prick.” Rarity pulled back off of Fluttershy’s back, slinging the still smoking rifle back around her chest.
“Whoa.” Fluttershy blinked a few times, ears still ringing “He just, uh, dropped. I mean, he was up one second, then just, uh–” she mimed falling over with a hoof. “–done.”
“Of course. That is what generally happens upon destruction of the brain, as I understand it,” Rarity explained. “’Flaccid paralysis,’ they call it. Of course, I never suspected I’d need that chapter of Gamemaster Cooper’s book while reading it, but I suppose there’s a lesson there about seeing things to completion, hmm?”
“The brain?” Fluttershy shuddered. “I, uh, guess it’s good it was fast at least.”
“I would have nothing less, dear.” Rarity scoffed. “I may be a, er, murderer…?”
Fluttershy shrugged. “I think it depends on definition.”
Evidently satisfied, Rarity continued, “–but I am certainty not some sort of sadist hellbent on seeing my enemies suffer, or, at least, not enough of one to let a thinking creature bleed to death. That would be rather unchivalrous, don’t you think?”
“That’s true, I guess.” To be honest, Fluttershy hadn’t been entirely unenthused with the idea of sticking a knife into the griffon’s chest, and she wasn’t sure she would have had quite as good of aim as usual, either. Putting that out of mind, she stood up, working a kink out of her back with a catlike stretch. “But how could you be sure you wouldn’t hit the, er, a princess? She was, um, pretty close to his, uh, head.”
Rarity sniffed. “Sure?”
“Yes. Alicorns are pretty tough, but I don’t think they’re bulletproof.”
Rarity guffawed. “Oh, Fluttershy, I wasn’t sure.” She stepped off towards the cottage, only stumbling a little. “It was, ah, an acceptable risk.”
Fluttershy scrambled to follow. “I, um, guess.” She looked back at the cottage, spotting the as-yet undetermined princess prodding the newly expired with a hoof. “I think I’ll let you tell that one to the, uh, princess. I can’t imagine she’ll take it well.”
“That’s her problem, not ours, dear.” Rarity continued plodding along. “Besides, I’m sure we could talk Twilight out of a rage. Celestia knows how many rogues we’ve run up against who have managed the same.”
“And if it’s Luna?”
“Luna? Ha!” Rarity attempted to throw her mane back to punctuate the sentence, only realizing too late that she no longer had the hair to do so. She carried on nonetheless; after a day quite like this one, it would take more than that to literally break her stride. “Luna would probably be impressed, the warlock.”
“My word!” Luna peered closely at the grisly remains of the once-proud ambassador. “The shot has passed cleanly through, and with such precision! A mere smidgen farther upwards and it would encountered naught but feathers.” Luna pulled back, sighing contentedly. “What a shame we have no such need nor, er, such funds for such a skillful rogue in our employ. Were this the halcyon days of yore, mistress Rarity would have accumulated quite the pile of our coin disposing of petulant barons and baronesses.”
Luna dragged her eyes away from the scene, looking to the left to find exactly what she had been expecting: two staggering mares whose coats, even in abhorrent states, positively identified them as the two ponies whom the griffon had assured had been torn to shreds by wolves. Luna waved a friendly hoof.
“Huh. I guess it was Luna after all. Who would have thought?”
“Well, um, I did.” Fluttershy waved back warily, suddenly feeling very exposed by her lack of forelocks to hide behind. Luna smiled broadly. “Do you think she’s mad at us?”
“Fluttershy, if Luna was mad at us we would have been vaporized by now,” Rarity countered. “Now, lets not keep her waiting, hmm?” She broke off into a trot.
“Uh, Rarity? Rarity?” Fluttershy called out after her. She broke into a canter and closed the distance, pulling alongside the smiling unicorn and slowing back down to a brisk trot. “Maybe you shouldn’t be, uh, trotting? You don’t want to get dizzy again, do you?”
“Oh, pish-posh, Fluttershy. I feel fine!” Rarity sped up her pace. The cottage, and princess, were only a few moments away now. “Honestly, dear, I’m not sure we need that doctor after all!”
“Rarity, your eyes still won’t focus together,”
“Well, that may be, but the mailmare gets along fine, does she not?” Rarity slowed down, pulling to a stop as she rounded the corner of the cottage, which put her her face to face with the princess, whose face had contorted into a truly ferocious grimace at the sight and, perhaps worse, stench of the two mares. “Now, let’s say – hurk–” Rarity’s cheeks bulged out.
Fluttershy sighed. “Better, huh?” She rubbed Rarity’s back as she began to heave.
Luna pulled back a hoof, retreating from the retching unicorn. “Er, the ambassador did not poison either of thou, did he?”
“No, she’s just heavily concussed and doesn’t listen to me.” Fluttershy shooed Luna with a hoof. “You’ll want to, um, step backwards a little.”
“Why?” Luna cocked her head. “Surely we are far enough–”
Rarity, as if to prove her wrong, promptly vomited onto Luna’s mercifully unshod hooves.
“Oh,” stated Luna. She shook a befouled hoof. “We see. Doth thou keep a wash-pail handy?”
“Uh, no.” Fluttershy pointed to a coiled garden hose hanging from the wall of the house. “You’re welcome to wash yourself off with the hose, though.”
Luna’s horn lit, unspooling the hose from the hanger and pulling the end towards herself. She turned the spigot and directed the water onto her hoof. “Oh, we fear we may never tire of this miraculous invention. Why, in days past, we would have had to summon a whole crew of servants to prepare for our weekly bath.” She chuckled. “Now? A singular hose delivers all the – oh!”
Rarity stole the hose out of Luna’s field, thrusting the end into her mouth and chugging down deep gulps. Water ran out of the corners of her mouth in a most inelegant manner.
“Um, Rarity, maybe you should take it easy with the water,” Fluttershy cautioned.
Whether by deference to Fluttershy’s advice or desperate need for air, eventually something won out over her thirst, and Rarity yanked the hose out, moving it to above her head. The water first ran gray, then a veritable cornucopia of sickly colors as it picked up various unspeakables from her coat. She sucked in a mighty breath. “Oh dear Celestia–”
Luna frowned. They never picked her.
“–I’m never, ever going to complain about tap water again.” She moved the hose to her front, noting, with no small revulsion, the off-yellow runoff from the accumulated sick that had stuck in her coat. She, noticing the quite insufficient effect it was having, dropped the hose and turned to Fluttershy. “I don’t think this is going to cut it, Fluttershy. Would you mind if I used your shower, dear?’
“Not at all,” Fluttershy reassured. “And feel free to call for the doctor once you're inside; we'll take care of the griffon. Do you need me to point you there?”
“I remember.” Rarity had already started walking towards the back door. She paused, then, evidently remembering her baggage, unstrapped her rifle and bags and left them by door. “Don’t let the princess steal anything, hmm?” she added, heading inside and closing the door behind her.
As soon as Rarity cleared the threshold, Fluttershy slumped, releasing hours of tension with a mighty sigh. She picked the up the hose and pulled off her hat, tossing it aside and pulling her mane out of the ponytail, letting it run onto her shoulders. She turned the hose onto herself, closing her eyes and reveling at the heavenly sensation of cool water washing out the accumulated sweat.
“Er, we, uh,” Luna started.
Fluttershy opened one eye, peering through the rushing water at the princess.
“Thou do realize that–”
“Stop,” Fluttershy commanded. She might not have had the horn here, but her tone unmistakably carried as much presence as Luna’s blood ought to have.
“Well, it is simply that thy–”
“NO!” Fluttershy threw down the hose, water spilling into a flowerbed. “Don’t you dare “thou” me, Luna!” She stuck her hoof in the goddess’ chest, pushing right above Luna’s clavicle. “I might not be as well-read as Twilight, but I still know my ‘thees’ and ‘thines,’ and if you think you can talk down to me after what you put us through you’re out of your mind, princess.” She stamped a back hoof, hitting the ground hard enough to crack down to the nailbed. She didn’t even notice.
“Nay! We meant no offense!” Luna’s eyes had shot open, shooting back and forth from Fluttershy’s furious gaze to the hoof stuck above her ribs. “We just, er, felt remorse at the state at which we find you–”
“SHUT UP!” Fluttershy swung her right hoof around, back-hoofing the immortal diarch of Equestria with force enough to make even an alicorn reel. “I don’t need your fucking pity, Luna,” she spat, pointing a wing towards the door. “She’s the one who really got hurt out there, not me. I’ve just got two broken wings. That will heal” She pointed at her forehead. “Did you see her horn? It doesn’t work anymore. It’s just broken. And I don’t know if it’s going to come back.” There were tears in her eyes. “She might not be showing it right now, princess, she might not even know it now, but I guarantee she’s going to go into that shower and bawl, because she might have just crippled herself. She might never make another dress, because of him, because of you, because of f-fucking Twilight, and because of me. And now there’s a dead manticore in the forest and a dead griffon in my fucking backyard, and – and, and oh my gosh.” She raised her right hoof in front of her eyes, holding it in front of Luna. “I just slapped the princess.”
Luna, who had now mostly recovered from the initial shock, rubbed her cheek; to Fluttershy’s immense relief, rather than immediately flaying Fluttershy alive with beams of awesome magic or, worse, transporting her to the moon, she instead broke out into laughter. “Goodness!” she guffawed. “Fair Fluttershy has an arm like a champion pugilist. Who would have suspected? We see who your fiery rabbit takes after.”
Fluttershy looked up from the ground, a single eye peeking around drenched bangs. “You, um, aren’t going to have me, uh, beheaded, are you?”
“Ha!” Luna fell back onto her haunches, clutching her gut. “Beheaded! Hysterical!” Luna wiped a few tears from her eye. “Imagine, the soft and frivolous folk of this time’s Canterlot attending a drawing and quartering in our palace’s courtyard. The horror on their faces would be sublime.” Luna gradually settled down, a last few chuckles busting out. “Nay, Fluttershy, your head shall remain firmly attached to your neck.” She sniffled. ‘Of course, it is not as if we have the authority to condemn anypony to anything, really, but we wouldn’t have ordered your execution regardless.”
“Oh, that’s, uh, good.” Fluttershy pulled her hair a little farther back, blushing. “I’m, um, sorry for hitting you. Twice. You, um, probably didn’t deserve that.”
“Nay, Fluttershy, there is no need to apologize.” Luna laid down next to her, draping a comforting wing across the smaller pony’s frame. “Your fury is, er, understandable considering the circumstances, albeit your remorse at striking us does come as some surprise in light of your apparent willingness to shoot the griffon a mere hair’s breadth from our own face, which does speak to a certain nonchalance about the potential of our bodily harm.”
“It was, um, Rarity’s idea?” Fluttershy offered.
“We see. We will, ah, lend her a considerable doubt and assume she was simply highly confident in her abilities, and will be sure to commend her marksmareship once she had ceased bathing.” She sighed, “Nay, we freely admit that our failure to more closely read the letter prepared by the palace servant did cause much of your suffering. Such negligence does not reflect well on us.”
“No, it’s not your fault,” said Fluttershy, pulling a little closer to the princess. “Well, no, that’s not true, it, um, actually is your fault, but it’s also Celestia’s and Twilight’s fault too, and it’s the least your fault out of all of the, um, faults.”
“Truly? Our sister?” Luna cocked her head in confusion. “We are more than aware of Twilight’s incompetence, but our sister as well?”
“Yeah, her too.” Fluttershy sighed, shaking her head. “Have you ever read any of the treaties she wrote?”
“Er, no, we have not.” It was Luna’s turn to blush. “Our sister does not let us read documents of the realm. Or much else, for that matter.”
“They’re terrible. Talk to her about, uh, reciprocity some time.”
“Oh.” Luna pulled back her wing. “We’ll be sure to, but, um, she is not particularly wont of listening to us.”
“Thanks.” Fluttershy took a deep breath and stood up. “Now, uh, would you mind, um, grabbing that shovel by the door?” Fluttershy pointed out said lawn implement. “We probably ought to, um, get to burying the ambassador before the doctor gets here and sees him. Or you. Or you with him.” Fluttershy rubbed the back of her neck. “Or before the bears get him. It’s probably best they don’t get a taste for, uh, griffons. Might make official visits to Twilight a little awkward.”
Luna scoffed. “Bury?”
“Uh, yes.” Fluttershy furrowed her brow. “Unless you have someplace you can store a, uh, dead griffon.”
Luna walked over to the griffon, placing a forehoof on his haunches, which were mostly unscathed. “Fluttershy, have you forgotten? We can simply teleport the cadaver elsewhere.” She gestured with a wing for Fluttershy to follow. “Know you any particularly suitable locations?”
Fluttershy thought for a minute. “That depends. How good are you at pyromancy?”
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Poor Flutters, she needs a big hug and a stiff drink.
Wonder what percentage of the griffon population would be upset and what percentage would offer to buy Rarity a drink.
...after this, Luna wishes to marry the game warden, right?
Clearly, he hadn't thought through very well just how, exactly, he was going to explain this and still make it believable. But then why should I expect anything else from him at this point?
It would! But then you'd also have to wait for high noon before shooting and all, so...
Ha! Ha, I say!
Again, I say Ha!
And I better stop there, or I suspect I'm going to have to say "Ha" a few more times before he's finished, so...Ha in advance for all of those other times too.
Just a few.
And nice shot, Rarity! Nailed it on one try, despite a damaged gun and a concussion!
The (former) ambassador could only dream of making such a shot himself, given his decidedly less impressive shooting record.
I love that Luna's immediate impression when the ambassador was shot dead was "He screwed them over, lied about it, and paid the price." XD
I nearly died laughing here.
Damnit Rarity! Is there a sign on my cottage that says "Dead Griffin Storage"?!?
Rarity? Snipings good work, if you can get it. And a head shot at that range with a concussion? *mwah* Better than he deserved, but deader than even an alicorn could save.
10777349
Luna's probably known her fair share of "hunting accidents".
For those playing at home, that's what you're actually hoping to hit when you "go for the jugular", at least if you're doing so literally.
Considering Fluttershy's been repeatedly described as the most attractive of the Mane Six, and is currently soaking herself with water in front of Luna, I'm thinking there's more than one reason why Luna's having trouble putting a sentence together right now.
aww she is so relatable
aww it really would!
hehe, “marksmareship”, love it. also, Rarity being able to clearly snipe a griffon despite being heavily concussed. Luna's medieval attitude towards the inherent value of pony (and griffon) life is also always fun to explore