Hand in Hoof

by AdamThePony

Chapter 18: Golden Hearts and Iron Stomachs

Author's Note:

Sorry for the long wait. Camp NaNo and computer troubles got in the way hard this month.

Chapter 18: Golden Hearts, Iron Stomachs

Even in the most comfortable of beds, I was not immune to the molestation of my subconscious. While my body rested peaceably, my mind was ever restless, buzzing with activity, half of which was not my own. Iando's presence in my mind was growing, and it showed quite visibly when I ventured into the realm of dreams once more.

While the tower of the Midnight Lounge was still standing sentinel in the distance, the fields of silver wheat had been replaced by a hollowed, bone-white orchard of weeping willows, the leaves an obsidian black. Motes of potentially fae light and beauteous butterflies drifted lazily past as I watched. The trickling of a babbling brook hung in the air as I ventured inside, eyes looking back and forth as I walked.

For a being of such fell origin, Iando certainly had a fond appreciation for nature. He could very well have made this realm as foreboding and dark as he was, but he’d instead made this tranquil forest, gleaming with brilliant nightly light. He even went to the trouble of populating it with monochrome creatures like ravens, squirrels, and deer, all of which surprisingly docile. The whole thing was incredibly peaceful.

In fact, it struck me as too peaceful. Call me paranoid, but when someone goes out of their way to make things cozy for their host, it's usually because they want something from them.

"What do you want from me now, Iando?" I asked, my tone dreadfully unenthusiastic. "Surely you must have some request, if you've gone to this much effort."

Iando appeared from beneath the shadow of a tree, snickering coyly.

"Come now, dear Lance," he said with a playful smirk. "Must you always assume the worst of me? Can I not render a service to a dear friend?"

I stared Iando down. "First, there is nothing 'dear' about our relationship. And second, to call yourself my friend is a massive overstatement."

"I only wanted to appeal to your love of nature." Iando shrugged his shoulders. "Would not a child such as you take solace in the freedom nature provides?"

"The last time I was here, Iando, I was molested by scarecrows," I quickly pointed out. "And before that, you decided to be all cryptic and play some kind of prophecy card on me. Needless to say, I'm not very confident in your goodwill."

"It kept you from being torn to shreds by griffons, did it not?"

I looked down to my feet. "So it did."

"Still, I feel I should humor you," Iando admitted. "I'll be forthright this time; while I am admiring your growing skills in magic, your pace leaves something to be desired."

"And I take it you have something to offer me?"

Iando shrugged a hand. "More or less. I just aim to make good on what I said a little ways back."

I crossed my arms. "And what, pray tell, might that be?"

"It is no secret that the magic that aunt of yours is having you learn shares a common origin with that of my kin," Iando explained. "So, why don't I help you improve upon your technique?"

My eyebrow wrinkled up like an inchworm. "What did you have in mind?"

"Nothing too complicated," he assured. "It's right at your level, I promise."

"So what is it, then?"

"It's a very simple technique, really." Iando smiled, keeping at arm's length. "It is a magic which allows you to become more difficult to apprehend. Like sand and tide, you can't grasp a shadow; it merely slips through your fingers."

"So it makes me more slippery?" I scratched my head. "Excuse me if I don't quite see the use of it."

"People often overlook the fundamentals out of boredom," Iando chuckled. "But without this skill, you've no hope of getting any further."

"So what's the incantation?"

"This spell has a very simple mnemonic," Iando replied with a smile. "My body is beyond your grip, for in the shadows I now slip."

I repeated the mantra to myself a few times for clarity's sake. My mind whirred to life, focusing on the mantra as my fingers tingled at the tips. A subtle, misty aura cast itself around my hands, and my body began to take a darker tint, subtly flickering like candlelight as the ritual went on. My body also felt less heavy, though to a negligible degree. Iando looked upon me with approval and smiled.

"See?" He placed a hand on my back. "Simple, but effective."

I pulled Iando's hand off me, keeping a light grip on his wrist. "Was that all you wanted to see me about?"

"Such impatience, Lance," he chided. "For shame."

"I am not ungrateful for your advice," I told Iando, "but I don't exactly consider you trustworthy, and I'm not likely to for a while."

Iando looked down with slight dejection. "Such is the way of those suckled by the teat of ponykin, I suppose; always concerned with keeping everything under control, never trusting of the wild and the unknown." He gave a deviously toothy smile. "But you would know plenty of being misunderstood and untrusted, wouldn't you? All those awkward moments, dodging questions of your origins, all the times you've had to be likened to other primates because no one had an idea as to what you actually were?"

My brow scrunched. "That is none of your business."

Iando tried to pat me on the head, but he was met with a slapped hand and a cold glare.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm headed to familiar territory," I grumbled. "While the work you've put into this place is admirable, your behavior needs far, far more of it."

Iando shook his head in a "tut-tut" manner, but didn't bother to stop me. He had patience, if nothing else. My patience, however, was growing quite thin. As I trudged my way out of the forest, I paid as little mind to the creatures around me as they did to me. At least it was an undisturbed trip back. As the tower came closer and the forest faded from view, the feeling of eyes behind me went with it.

I doubted Luna was available for counsel. Not that it would make much difference, of course. I roamed aimlessly, uncaring of the direction as I sprinted along. The moonlight-soaked field and forest faded away, my body moving more of its own accord than mine as my feet met carpet and tile.

A cavalcade of creatures not unlike myself slowly crowding around me. They were all dressed in a way similar to pony-folk in Canterlot, and each of them had some kind of weapon, either strung to their hip, or concealed out of sight. None of them seemed to pay me much of any mind as I passed them, giving at most a cursory glance as they took sips from hand-sized chalices. None of their faces were familiar to me on a personal level, but I couldn't have cared less; the mere sight of others like me kept my heart running a mile a minute. My every step was like featherweight, my eyes soaking in every sight, my ears relishing the sound the crowd made as they chattered along. People, dozens of them, were around me as if it were a normal evening out. The sheer excitement made me not want to stop. I just kept on moving, taking in all the folk around me, awed by all that I was seeing.

Civilization sprawled out before me in an excellent display as a stallion held a door open before me, welcoming me into a ballroom. It was an opulent affair, floored with blue suede and supported by marble columns. Golden patterns of olive branches and sunflowers were etched into the carpet, which made every step I took plush and quiet as I made my way inside.

Most everyone was entwined in twirling dances. The hum of bass and twinkling of piano brought an air of sophistication to the room. While I was decently dressed, compared to the more formal attire of my peers, I might as well have been naked. The room was packed with noblemen dressed in elaborate ensembles emblazoned with heraldries and house symbols from wolves to deer and even unicorns and griffins. The atmosphere was filled with an air of intrigue and mystery; there was as a very clear order to the dance, the scale of which leaving me pinned at the entrance, unsure of where to go or what to do. The crowd tip-toed to and fro in guided pairs, leaving space for the spares to try and find a partner for themselves. And yet, at first, I saw none but myself as I dared wade through, the crowd giving way as I passed. Not a soul in sight was without someone to complete them, save myself.

And then, amidst the clambering of loafers and heels, the staccato of heavy, hurried footsteps clicked into my ears, dispelling the fog of melody and mystique. The stirrings of suspicion resounded around the room as the band played heedlessly on. My eyes tried to lead me to the source, but it wasn't until the new guest was right at my face that I'd found it. She was a mare of fair complexion, her hair kissed by silver and her eyes flavored like hazelnut. Her dress was cloud-white, dotted with fringes and frills that hung off of her like sheets of permafrost. Her face was dotted with a spattering of tan spots, leading to a countenance equal parts cheery youth and taciturn maturity. I suppose the two of us had a natural pull to one another, being the odd ones out. The mare offered a hand, and the moment I returned it, she drew me into arm's length, placing my other hand against her hip as she did the same to me.

"It's awfully rude to invite someone to dance when you don't yet know their name," I said, the whole bottom of my face flooding red. "Why don't you introduce yourself?"

"Terribly sorry about that." The girl gave a squeaky giggle. "They call me Maria. What do they call you, stranger?"

"Lance," I answered back as we entered into a spin. "I'm honestly surprised to find this place. I'm quite excited to meet others of my kin."

"That makes two of us," Maria leaned in close, lips to my ear. "Truthfully, this prim and proper lot just isn't for me."

My hands lost purchase."Y-you misunderstand, miss!" With a quick pull, I maintained my balance. "I meant that I've never seen anyone like you in my--"

Before I could finish, Maria stole a chance to seize my lips with her own. Time seemed to stiffen, sound and movement growing still as if to hang upon this moment. This newfound kinsman made her boldness readily clear, and it left me bereft of speech and sense. My skin flushed red, my hands grew cold, and before I knew it, the world around me began to fade away from me as I fell into the nothingness below.

Whether it was but a simple dream borne of desperation or a premonition to things to come, I couldn't say for certain. All that I knew was that such a kiss as the one I'd just had felt too real to have been just a dream.

***

My eyes peeled open slowly, the room dark and grey as dawn's light pierced the veil of curtains. The sounds of the others snoring and sniffling snaked into my ears as I rose bottom-first like a patriarchal lion. Spike was at the other side of the bed, back turned as Juno kept between us, her grip gentle and light. Roughshod and Napalm shared a bed, surprisingly intimate with one another as Nia and Kenta laid back to back. The whole place was comfortably calm, and I appreciated it greatly. I slithered out of bed, hoping not to wake my friends as I took my bearings of the room. There was certainly luxury to be found here, though none so great as peace between friends.

Alas, such peaceful solitude was short lived, as Juno whirred to life once again, eyes becoming bright with tiny lamplight. "I see you are awake, master," she observed, carefully edging off the bed herself. "Was your rest well?"

"Not so loud," I whispered as I made a downward gesture with my hand. "I slept fine, Juno. Better than I have in a while, in fact."

Juno's head ratcheted to the side. "Is that so?" she asked, approaching curiously. "I've never known what a dream is like before. Would you care to tell me what yours was?"

I summarized the dream as well as I could remember it. While the more lucid part of my dream was more easily recountable, the part that was less in my control was left vestigial memories in my mind. Such is the way of dreams, I suppose.

Juno, still as a statue, nodded her head in understanding. "Intriguing," she said, a stately smile upon her face. "What you initially describe is more of a lucid nightmare, but it ends with a dream. I will file this in my databanks for reference." Her head panned across the room like a sentry. "Perhaps the others might be keen to share their dreams?"

I shook my head. "I don't think so," I refuted. "You're still new, and your behavior so far likely has them hesitant to give away any vital information."

Juno shied her head away, wincing as if she were harmed by my comment. "I do not comprehend," she said with a sag. "I made an attempt to do my protective duties, however poor it was. Surely, that is enough to prove my loyalty?"

"To me? Certainly. But the others may need time to warm up to you."

Juno tilted her head in confusion. "Warm up? That does not compute; all subjects in this room are warm-blooded, including the dragon."

I placed a palm to my face. "It's a figure of speech, Juno."

Juno blushed. "Forgive me, master," she pleaded. "I am not accustomed to modern vernacular."

"Don't worry about it." I reached down to stroke Juno's mane like a favored pet. "I find that innocent demeanor of yours rather adorable."

Juno blinked, a smile slowly carving into her cheeks. "You think that I am cute?" She covered her face with her knees and turned her cheek to me. "Am I...attractive?"

My skin blanched rather quickly at the forwardness of her comment. "Well, I suppose so. You're nicely put together, but I'm not sure if 'attractive' is the proper word."

"Do you mean to say that I am..." Juno pressed her hoof to her mouth meekly. "Pretty?"

I smiled, cradling her chin in my hand. "I'd say you were built pretty, Juno."

I wasn't certain if it was from a leak or some hitherto unknown design feature, but I swore I could see a tear welling in Juno's eye. "I will remember this compliment, Master Lance. Thank you."

I chuckled quietly as I tussled Juno's mane. "You're very welcome, Juno. Now, shall we wake the others?"

"Actually," Juno held one of her legs, as if to scratch an itch. "If you would allow me to, could we return to bed, if only for a few minutes more?"

I looked outside, seeing that the sun was still decently low on the horizon.

"I think that can be arranged."

Thus, the two of us spent a few more minutes to rest and allow the others some more beauty sleep. Part of me felt particularly glad to have a little leeway in how I spent my time here, given the rush we'd been in a short while ago. My body certainly enjoyed the extra rest, at least.

But, as a wise man once said, time waits for no one, and the time for us to wake drew ever closer. I decided to save the contents of my dream for later, hoping that Juno's mechanical mind would hold it better than mine did. Everyone else awoke in large stretches and deep yawns, with the occasional look of shock at the realization of who they'd shared the bed with to make the morning more interesting.

Perhaps as a show of good timing, a knock came at the door. Juno, eager to show her devotion, took to answering the door, where Gloria waited on the other side. Gloria looked down to Juno, slightly surprised, before giving the lot of us a two-taloned salute.

"Morning, boys and girls," she said, her tone back to the more casual one she'd taken with me. "How are we doing today?"

"I'll tell you one thing," Napalm called from across the room. "I haven't slept in a bed this comfy before."

"Agreed," added Roughshod, joints popping like sinewy bubble wrap as he stretched out. "These old bones of mine owe you their deepest thanks."

Gloria's beak crooked into a grin. "Glad you liked it," she yawned, covering her mouth discreetly. "Well, when you're ready, Gabby's almost done with your set, Lance. We shouldn't dawdle here for too long."

I bowed my head to Gloria. "Yes, Your Highness."

Gloria rolled her eyes. "First name basis is fine, thanks.'”

"Right. Thousand pardons, Gloria."

Spike got up behind me, hand over my chest. "Would it be okay if I came with? I'm his plus-one."

Gloria's face puckered particularly promptly at that statement, eyes widened and cheeks a delicious apple-y shade of red. She hissed between her teeth, as if the comment knocked the wind out of her lungs. "I didn't know it was like that."

The way Spike's face returned the expression in kind honestly made it hard to contain my uproarious laughter. "No way it is!" he snapped. "I mean that I'm his bodyguard!"

Gloria heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness," she gasped. "I was about to say, if it were like that, then this whole thing would've gotten super awkward."

I put my hands up in defense. "I swear to you, it's not what you think," I replied. "We're strictly on the 'honorary brothers' level of things."

Gloria wiped her brow clean. "So long as you can keep up the act, we're good."

With that momentary awkwardness done with, the three of us, along with Juno, made for the streets of Griffonstone. The city was greatly more abuzz this time around, perhaps due in part to the forthcoming festivities. Whispers of "those folks from the east" came around as we made our trip to Gabby's, with the intermittent glance from passersby at Juno and Spike, for reasons that should likely be blindingly obvious. No amount of acting casual would make our difference in stature any less noticeable. At the very least we weren't stopped by even the occasional curious commoner.

Once we'd made our way inside Gabby's establishment, the feeling of being watched quickly faded away. Gabby took quick note of us, beaming with excitement as she rushed over to nuzzle the princess.

"Gloria, you made it!" she cried with joy. "Today's a big day for everyone, huh?"

"You know it, Gabby," Gloria replied. "You got the goods?"

"Oh, have I got the goods today," Gabby giggled giddily as she briefly disappeared into the back room. "It was a long night in the making, but I think it turned out pretty good. Never designed for many bipedal types, so this as a nice little challenge." Then, with a flamboyant flourish, she unfurled a lordly little ensemble, reminiscent of the one Rarity had previously woven for me. "Ta-dah!"

Spike eyed me with a brotherly form of envy. "Looks like she hooked you up good."

"I don't see a hook on master's body," Juno said, her tone uncertain. "Or was that a figure of speech?"

"This is going to be a long day," I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I suppose I should introduce my two companions. The dragon fellow is Spike, while this currently humourless mechanical mare is Juno."

"Nice to meet both of you," Gabby said with a smile. "I've got to say, I didn't expect a diplomat from Equestria to be rolling with a posse like yours. Then again, I don't think anybody expected Equestria to be represented by a non-pony either."

"I would prefer to be called by my name, if at all possible," I snipped. "Matters of species are part of the reason I'm here in the first place."

"Right, touchy subject, I got ya," she replied, putting her talon in a gesture like my own thumbs-up. "Why don't we take care of business and see you wear that thing now, huh?"

I carefully claimed the clothes with one hand. "Point me to a dressing room?"

Gabby pointed to the back, to which I quickly retreated. Once out of sight, I had a moment to better examine my new ensemble.

It was a modest two-piece arrangement that, if I had to sum it up in terms of what it evoked, was less "soldier-prince" and more "dilettante swashbuckler". It was a bright scarlet affair with a short-sleeved duster coat, a frilled white dress shirt, a pair of relaxed fit trousers, some impressively long boots, and a wide-brimmed hat with a stupidly long, fluffy plumage. While it did mean I would have to hide my diadem beneath it, at the very least my gauntlets would be easily complemented by this outfit. In this private space, I exchanged the two outfits, folding up the flight suit neatly before stepping out to flaunt my new fashion. The griffons bore approving looks while Spike grinned with virile praise.

"Dude, I think you lucked out this time around," he said, his voice rumbling with vigor. "Those dignitaries are in for a surprise."

"In more ways than one," I said as I smiled and tipped my new hat. "I must say, Gabby, for someone who's never tailored for the likes of me, you outdid yourself splendidly."

Glora rolled her eyes in that cock-sure way a master craftsman would. "It was nothing. I just wanted to make something that might suit your character."

"I'm not really certain if this does fit," I replied, lifting my coattails for tidiness' sake. "But, I suppose if I'm to play the part of a daring young suitor, I may as well work on my act."

"Ooh, ooh!" Spike raised his hand enthusiastically. "Since we've got that ship, why don't we say you're a privateer serving under the crown? You could get your sword and your spear and act all pirate-like and everything!"

I snapped my fingers with gusto. "Brilliant idea, Spike! I've always considered piracy when I was little."

"The name might need changing, though," Gloria added. "The name 'Lance' is good and all, but if we're gonna play up the act, we need something that'll get those snobs snivelling. Something that could go down in legends."

"Well, there are two ways I could go about it." I rubbed my chin ponderously. "Either I modify my given name to something with more flair--Lawrence, for example--, or I do something similar to my middle name of 'Alexis' to 'Alexander'."

"Just a name would not suffice, master," Juno advised. "As I recall in my databanks, many pirates of yore had a title attached that described them. It could be a color, a quality, or a social status."

"You're not wrong, there," I replied, nodding along. "Given my get-up, I feel something like 'The Dread Pirate Lawrence’ might do me well."

"That's a start," Gabby joined in the chin-rubbing. "But it's not quite original."

"What if we added something to the front, instead?" Spike suggested. "Like Royal Red Lawrence, or, or--wait! I got it! Let's call you ‘Lawrence the Red'!"

"Marvellous!" I stamped my fist into my hand. "A name like that will certainly turn heads."

"Not a bad choice," Gloria agreed. "But, a name like that needs a backstory to go with it. Something that'll live up to the name."

For a good while, we brainstormed a potential story to tell the dignitaries. The more just part of me wasn't certain if this was the proper way to go about this issue, but if I was to act out a role, I'd be damned if I didn't take the extra mile and truly have some fun with it. Heavens know I desperately needed to live a little and enjoy myself for a change. For the sake of keeping track, we had Juno record the details as we requested of her, so as not to catch ourselves flat-footed when the time came. Once we had our story straightened out, we regrouped at the King's Roost and prepared for the party ahead.

***

Let me get one thing straight for you dweebs out there: I don't like weddings. Like, not at all. That’s just not how Gilda does things. The only reason I let this go on is because I preferred it over a war with my brothers in the east. If I had any other choice, I would've taken it.

But that's neither here nor there. You wanna hear about how it went, right? You might wanna get a chair, because this is a bit of a doozy.

So there I was, butt parked firmly in a big old chair at the back of the room, listening to a bunch of snobs as they prattled on about matters of state, territory acquisitions, and all that other political junk. The two guests of honor--Gottfried the Pale-faced and Goddard the Frog-mouthed--were preening each other like a couple of bros, snickering to themselves as they squawked on.

"You truly have such fine taste in women, sir," Goddard said, his mouth making him look like a puppet. "That dark coat of hers will suit you perfectly."

"I am a man with a passion for the exotic," Gottfried replied, stroking his crest with anticipation. "To see that black beauty draped in white finery would be my dream come true."

Then, from out of nowhere, the doors to the main hall come bursting open, and everybody in the room just falls into a stupor. All that bright sunlight flooded the place like the damn thing just blew up. People dropped what they were doing, pulling their attention to the door and pointing as they started speculating amidst the mayhem.

"Is that Princess Gloria?"

"It must be, but who's that he's with?"

"Nevermind that, who invited the dragon?!"

The light starts to calm down, and the crowd follows with murmurs of suspicion. Once it was dim enough to see again, I caught an eyeful of what all the fuss was about.

Gloria was there, of course, gussied up in royal dress, but she wasn't the one who was turning heads. No, it was the gang she had flanking her. She had a Celestia-damned rainbow of species, with the leader all kitted up in red. Even I didn't have a clue what he was. It wasn't the Arimaspi, for sure. Whoever this dude in red was, he came ready to rumble with a sword at one hip, a spear on his back, a pair of golden gauntlets, and a swagger to his step.

I'll give the kid this: He damn sure knows how to make an entrance.

Not a single pair of eyes in the place peeled their eyes off of the gang. Not one of them tried to speak up, either out of surprise, fear, or some mix of both. No one except, of course, the two stiffs we were hosting for.

"What is the meaning of this, Gloria?" Gottfried growled, eyes all squinty and mouth all agape. "The wedding draws near, and you have the audacity to not only come in the wrong attire, but you bring these, these--misfits with you?!"

"Misfits? Hardly." Gloria gave a dry laugh, rolling her head back. "I think I'll let big red here introduce himself."

"You have my thanks, Your Royal Highness." The dude in red gave the court a bow, not even flinching. "They call me the Lawrence the Red. I'm sure you've seen my vessel, the Mysterious Melissa, docked at the port?"

Gottfried narrowed his eyes. "I noticed the ship, but the captain was mysteriously absent."

"Terribly sorry about that, sir," Lawrence replied as he tapped the toe of his boot against the floor. "It would seem your dearest fiance was so smitten by yours truly, she couldn't wait until I was properly anchored. Practically swept me off my feet, she did."

"That's preposterous!" gasped Goddard. "What would such a refined, elegant beauty want with some loathsome rogue?"

"As if that were up to debate," Lawrence replied with a laugh. "You must have the heart of a lion and the brain of a hare if such a partnership strikes you as so foreign."

Gottfried wasn't about to have this go on right in front of his face. Guy all puffed up and made a charge against Lawrence, he reached for his sword once he was about a foot away from him. Then, quick as a flash, Lawrence let his own sword loose, tip right up against the guy's neck. Talk about baiting him right into his hands.

"I take it you must be Gottfried?" Lawrence asked, teasing the edge of his sword against the white dude's trachea. "Surely you're a smarter griffin than this to try and bring this all to blows so quickly?"

Gottfried was shaking like a leaf. Before he could back up, the dragon dude flanked him, boxing him in. Gottfried whimpered, "What do you want from me?" like a scared puppy.

"Firstly, I'd like you to calm down," the pirate demanded. "It's terribly indignant to look so cowardly on such a momentous day." Then he lowered the sword to his chest. "And second, I'd at least like to attend a dinner service, so that I might have words with you and your associate about this little kerfuffle of ours."

Gottfried's talons shot up in surrender. "Whatever you want! Please spare me!"

Lawrence kept his blade up, probably trying to make sure he wasn't about to try anything funny. His flunkies kept a sharp eye on him, the metal one looking real rough and tumble compared to the rest. Once he was sure Gottfried wasn't gonna pull a fast one, he held his offhand up and lowered his sword.

"I am holding you to your word, good sir," he said, sheathing his sword. "I'd really hate to sully such a wonderful palace with that blue blood of yours."

Gottfried clammed up, clambering back to his seat.

Lawrence waved his crew along, Gloria not far from his side. "Take heart, lads and lasses," he shouted, scanning the hall. "Find a seat and we'll attend to our business here over brunch."

I know what you're probably thinking; why didn't I step in? Truth be told, I just wanted to watch this play out. Things definitely took a more interesting turn when he strolled in, and I knew it had to get even better as it went on. That said, I made sure he had a nice seat right across from Gottfried, just to see how he'd react. That, and to get a closer look at him.

Lawrence had a real earthy tone to him, his hair a shade darker and real roughly cut. His eyes were rich and green, and his smile nice and bright. I'd thought he'd look familiar, but only his right-hand man rang any bells. As he started sampling the food, him and those two snobs started jawing off.

"So where exactly do you hail?" Goddard wondered as he munched on a muffin. "You look too well dressed to be a lowly freebooter."

Lawrence gave a coy grin. "The place of my birth is yet unknown to me," he answered, digging into a teacake. "The place where I was raised, however, should be familiar to you. Till I was old enough to serve the crown, I lived in the Crystal Empire. Lovely place, really, if one that was terribly bright in the summer months."

"And just what is your business here?" added Gottfried. "All that panache and sabre rattling must have some purpose."

"Isn't it clear by now?" Lawrence thumbed his hat. "Your fiance has found another. If that didn't cross your mind by now, then you really are hare-brained. Were I you, Gottfried, I'd challenge me for her hand in marriage, yes?"

"Why you--" Gottfried's face scrunched up as he stood, his wings curling inward like a big cape as he stared Lawrence down. "You impudent bastard of an ape! You think I'll just let you waltz into this place with my rightful wife and make demands of me like this?! I ought to lay you down where you stand!"

Lawrence didn't say much back; at least, not at first. He just sat there, still as a tree with his arms resting on the back of the chair, not moving a muscle or batting an eye. At first, I thought he didn't hear a word of what he said.

Then he laughed. At first, it was all quiet, like he just remembered a good joke. Little by little, it picked up in loudness and audacity until, on the spot, the guy must have completely lost his sides. He guffawed his guts out, making sure the whole room heard it as he struggled to hold it in.

"Such disrespect!" Goddard growled. "What gives you the right to treat your betters like that, you dastard?"

Lawrence took a few seconds to reign himself in as he stood up, putting his main hand against his offhand. "It's funny you should use those words," he chuckled, slowly peeling off his gauntlet in front of the crowd,. "Because it so happens that this bastard of an ape has quite the intimate relationship with Her Royal Majesty Princess Celestia of Equestria. A mare whom, need I remind you and your corpse-like cohort, is responsible for giving you louts the sunlight that allows you to carry out your loathsome lives every wretched day."

Lawrence practically vaulted the table, reaching over to slap Gottfried's chest with the flat of his gauntlet in two hard smacks. "I would say that gives me enough authority to challenge you myself."

Everyone at the table took sharp breaths, all of them full-on floored by the balls this guy had on him. He dropped the gauntlet like it was an iron weight, waiting for how Gottfried would answer with crossed arms.

"What would your challenge be?" Gottfried spat. "A battle to the blood? To the pain? Perhaps a game of wits?"

Lawrence shook his head. "I'm afraid the former would be too violent for a reception like this, while the latter might be too uneven." His hand reached down to grab a scone off the table. "No, I believe the best test of our capacities is one that appeals to the great equalizer of mortal men. I propose not simply a battle of brawn or brains, but of bowels. It is no secret that griffons are possessed of a great talent for food, so would it not be fair that we see just how well either of us can stomach such succulent sweets?"

Gottfried gave him a real deadpan stare . "Are you mad?"

"As a hatter!" Lawrence replied with a laugh. "But I am not joking, good sir; they say the best way to one's heart is their stomach, so let our stomachs do battle to win that mare's heart, lest I steal it from you without contest!"

Gottfried grumbled beneath his beak, eyes going back and forth between Goddard and Lawrence's golden gauntlet. The crowd hung on to the edge of seats, some of them stuffing their faces like it was some kind of performance piece. He searched around the room, probably trying to find some kind of way out. But, there were too many witnesses, too much security, and too few doors; he didn't have much choice. Gottfried groaned, scraping his talons against the table.

"So I'm caught like a rat in a trap," he said, grabbing the gauntlet with a frown. "So be it; the challenge is set. What will be the stakes?"

"The stakes will be as such," Lawrence explained. "Should I be the winner, then you are to return from whence you came, and I am given license to do whatever I wish with Lady Gloria."

Goddard grinned. "And if you lose?"

Lawrence bowed low to Goddard. "Then I shall leave Griffonstone posthaste, and this wedding you came here for will proceed as if I were never here."

"You had best hope, then, that your stomach is as strong as your loins," Goddard replied, poking Lawrence square in the chest. "You'll be needing it."

For a couple of minutes, the whole place went quiet. Everybody was waiting for that next big development. When it didn't come, a few sighs of disappointment flew around the room before everything practically went back to normal. Or at least, as normal as it could be after all of what happened.

Whatever Lawrence's deal was, he was playing to win.

***

I’m not certain if Celestia would have expected this of me, but given the stories I’ve heard of her sense of humor, I’m inclined to think she’d not be too disappointed. The lot of us had been moved into a private room to prepare for the feast ahead. The whole lot of us shared accomplished chuckles as the pressure of our work finally started to fade away. Spike and I shared a high five (with Spike giving me a playful noogie), Nia and Roughshod shared a few chants with one another, and Napalm and Kenta shared a jaunty jostling. The only pony who wasn't celebrating fully was Juno.

"You should be happier than that," I said, pinching her cheek. "We managed to pull that off beautifully!"

"Master, the chances of that plan succeeding were thirty-two point three three repeating," Juno replied coldly. "Logically, it should have gone wrong somewhere."

"Believe me, he does this a lot," Napalm added. "Tends to jump the gun, only to figure out just what he needs to do to take the day."

Roughshod nodded. "Sometimes, you just have to press your luck and roll the dice. Anything better than zero-percent's worth givin' that fightin' chance."

"So it is better to take the chance you have than to accept failure?" Juno stroked her chin. "I am...unsure of the practicality of such thought."

"You're still new here," Spike leaned over to scratch Juno's head. "Once you start learning more about us and our world, you'll be a real go-getter before you know it."

"I am a bit curious," Nia said to me. "How did you know that this plan would work?"

"Gabby said it herself," I told her, shrugging my hands. "Any story I could tell would be believable, given how I looked. I just decided to embellish the truth a little just to spice things up."

Roughshod smiled. "Well, lad, you're certainly not a bad actor."

"I actually had a good time with that, all said." I patted my coat with pride. "It feels good to carry myself with a little more panache. Makes me feel really daring."

Spike patted me on the shoulder. "Just remember to keep it up; don't let those snobs back there try and break that mask of yours."

"I'll certainly try to." I turned to Gloria, who was hanging around near the entrance. "So, what all do griffons make in terms of sweetmeats?"

"Lots of things," Gloria replied, counting with her talons. "Eclairs, scones, truffles, chocolates, pretty much anything you can make by hand, we've got it."

I held my mouth, wincing. "I hope we have enough toothpaste. And some insulin."

Glora scoffed. "Don't worry; so long as you outlast Gottfried, the sugar intake shouldn't be too much trouble."

I held my stomach. "I should hope so."

"Just keep your stomach good and empty," Kenta chuckled. "You're gonna need plenty of room."

"Thanks for the advice," I replied, smacking my belly. "Wish me luck."

"With our record?" Napalm gave a good guffaw. "You've got this! And you bet your ass I'm gonna be right there, watching it go down."

Roughshod tapped his cane against his temple. "And you can be sure I'll be leading the cheers. Give it all you've got, boy; we'll be waitin' for you when it's over."

Though the pit of my stomach wasn't the easiest thing to bear, the way my heart was lifted made it almost negligible in comparison. Even with Juno's uncertainty, this change of persona felt good--great even. I can't help but think that this personality shift really helped me in the long run, no matter how foolish it might have been. It was one of those things that just felt right in my heart of hearts. A sense of pride filled me, and excitement pooled in the back of my head.

I took pause for a moment, placing a hand on my chest, picturing the black diamond within, shining subtly inside my mind. It was still unrefined, a precious ore yet unearthed, but ever beautiful in its own right. With a new resolve in my conscience, Nia and I took to having a brief exercise to prepare for the bout ahead.

***

Water churned in my stomach, saliva moistened my mouth, and vigor filled my throat. As I sat at the end of a long table, my feathered foe opposite me, my brain quivered with possibilities. What if I can't do it? What if I spit it out? What if my body can't take it?

I may have graduated from Guard Academy, but no amount of martial training could steel my stomach or gird my loins. This was a very abstract kind of fear, with only one clear objective:

Keep. It. Down.

Out came the chefs, wheeling in stacks of scones as high as I was tall, all steaming hot and scrumptious. Their weight didn't seem to trouble the servers as they laid a platter of them at each of our spots. Their smell alone made me want to skip all pleasantries, but I held my tongue firmly in my cheek for the sake of fairness. In between our two positions stood a golden griffon in a monochrome striped shirt, while the assumed Queen sat overwatch above us.

"We will begin the eating contest soon," he announced, holding up a talon. "But first, I will establish the conditions for our participants.

"Upon each of your tables is approximately one hundred-fifty scones, freshly baked by our chefs. In the interest of fairness and in consideration of the dietary requirements of our two contestants, they have not had any filling or topping added to them, and you may not request one be added.

"You will have 8 minutes to consume as many of the scones as possible. Should you complete one platter, another will be laid down. He who consumes the most scones will be declared the victor.

"In the event either participant suffers a reversal of fortune, then they shall be disqualified, and the opposing participant will be declared the winner."

"Reversal of fortune?" My head snapped behind me. "Guys, what does that mean?"

"It means don't yak, or you're out," called the matriarch from upon her throne. "I really hope it doesn't come to that, 'cause I just had those floors waxed yesterday."

"Very well, then," I removed my hat, tossing it over to Spike for him to wear for the time being. "Then shall we get on with it, Gottfried? Or have you lost your stomach?"

"You certainly talk big for someone raised by ponies," called Gottfried from afar. "All the more satisfying once I eat you under the table!"

I thumbed my nose at him. "We'll certainly see, won't we?"

The presumed judge cleared his throat, and our eyes were on him thusly. He rose a talon up, straight as an arrow. The crowd drew into a hush as he readied a starting whistle. The tension thickened such that you'd have to chop it with an axe. The muffled noise of someone somewhere chewing their nails off could be heard in the distance.

Just remember your ends, Lance, I told myself. It's her sake before yours.

Then, with a swoop of his arm and the shrill screech of a whistle, the madness did ensue.

Snappily, the both of us snatched up scone after scone, wolfing them down one after another. Our throats strained pushing each one down as we chewed only as much as we needed to and stared each other down like a gunfight in Dodge Junction. The sound of our blood pumping in our ears was the only one audible amidst the ruckus around us. The cheering of the spectators and supporters may as well have been white noise.

Neither of us took much time to savor the flavor. Instead, we opted to mash the things in our hands and wield them in bushels just to save ourselves time. As each one made its way down, the sound of our stomachs groaning and gurgling made us cringe. Sweat poured down from our brows, our minds desperately wrestling control of our bodies as we filled our gullets like true gluttons. As our throats became flushed with the baked goods, we had to use our noses to keep our breaths steady. To an extent, that was the only thing keeping them down besides sheer force of will.

But, I suspect Gottfried was up to something. His platter was almost half finished, and he hadn't paused for a second. I'm not so certain about the oral physiology of Griffons, but something about his pace seemed suspicious. He wasn’t chewing his food as often as I was. He was filling his gullet much quicker, mashing the scones in his hands and gobbling up the paste.

My stomach tensed in pain, and my ears rang, deaf to the sounds around me. My vision blurred, and I could feel something lurching back up. My sweat ran cold, and my blood nearly froze. My stomach was reaching capacity, and it took sheer force of will to keep it down.

Gottfried was winning, and he was grinning like a magnificent little bastard.

My stamina was fading fast, my knees getting wobbly as I tried to cram another scone into my mouth. It was getting harder to stay upright as I held my stomach, hoping the knot that formed would go away quickly.

Then did the image of the black diamond shine with brilliant shade yet again. In my mind, cries of "Do it for her!" The noise of the crowd returned, and as I shut my eyes, the roars of my friends echoed deep in my ears.

"You can't give in now, lad! Not when a maiden's freedom hangs on it!"

"Yeah, show this snob what you're made of!"

"Don't let your strength falter, Lance! Steel your gut, and stand firm like stone!"

"You can hold a lot more than that, boy! I know you can!"

"Your stomach capacity is not yet reached! You still have a chance of victory!"

"It ain't over till it's over, partner! Give that punk all you've got!"

My eyes snapped open, my nostrils burning hot and my hearing as acute as ever. My platter and Gottfried's were even, and two minutes remained on the clock. With my fists clenched around those sweet cakes, I let the fire in my stomach be whipped into a blaze. I wasn't about to let this pale-faced poof best me.

A primal surge raced through me as I shoveled down scones with reckless abandon. I let my cheeks fill up like a chipmunk as I worked every grieving muscle my poor throat had. The crowd was screaming with glee at the spectacle, and my friends were cheering me all the way. The name "Lawrence" echoed in the hall as the time drew ever closer to ending. My mind kept itself anchored on one point, and I chased it down with all the strength my body would allow.

The whistle brought everything to a halt. The crowd fell into a sharp silence, and the air grew cold and stagnant. The dull ring of nothingness droned in my ear as my eyes were drawn to my platter.

Naught but crumbs and debris remained now. Looking up to Gottfried, he had half of a scone left to eat, and it was all too late to finish. Gottfried glared, unbelieving as he held his half in his gaping mouth, dripping down his chest half-chewed. The judge quickly surveyed the platters, and I felt something lurch in my stomach.

I strained myself desperately, holding in my stomach like a girdle, grinding my teeth. Just a moment longer. Please!

"It is decided," declared the judge. "Our victor is clear!"

My stomach groaned loudly, and I grasped my throat in the vainest hope of buying a few precious seconds more.

"By way of cleanest platter, the victory goes to..."

The judge snapped the hand bracing my throat up, holding it above my head as the rest of me held itself together

"Lawrence, from Equestria!"

The crowd was whipped into a fervor, absolutely thrilled by the down-to-the-wire conclusion. The sheer volume of their cheers made my moans of agony naught by background noise. Spike and the others practically placed me on a pedestal with how high they rose me.

"That's the way we do it!" Spike roared. "Nice one!"

I held my gut in with gnashed teeth. "Oh dear sweet Celestia in summer, don't shake me," I groaned. "For all that is good, please take me to a bathroom, and swiftly."

With sympathetic nods, I was stretched out like a patient in a gurney and delivered away from the hall with speed. As I let my body relax, my conscience made me wonder if this whole grand charade was worth the toll to my body.

For what I was able to do with it, it was worth its weight in gold.

***

"Yet another sudden plan successful, eh boss?"

A searing light burned my eyes from above. My arm shot up to guard me from the glare, but nothing could quell the stress in my stomach. A heavy groan crawled out of my throat as I thrashed around the bed. I was beside myself, split between wallowing away the pain and facing the day fighting. Thankfully, a knock at the door helped my decision handily.

"Yo, the champ still with us?"

"Hurting something awful, but he's alive."

The door creaked open, and before us stood Griffonstone's queen. She was the practical paragon of her people--feathers clean and white, fur trimmed and tan, eyes gold and strong. Like Gloria, she wore a mask half made of composure and half of tenacity. In her arm, she held a large bouquet, flush with fresh-cut roses and forget-me-nots.

"I figured I'd come congratulate the champ," she said, making her way over there. "Gotta say, I didn't see it coming."

"Neither--agh! Did I," I replied, pained. "What are the flowers for?"

"You're kidding, right?" the queen chortled. "They're your wedding bouquet, dude! Didn't you go through all this to marry my daughter?"

I shook my head. "Not quite, Your Highness." I winced as I adjusted my posture. "I said that if I won, I would have license to do whatever I desired with Gloria. Though it might include marriage, my aim was simply to free her from an unwanted wedlock."

The queen's face became particularly cross for a moment. Her eyes shot to Gloria, who meekly turned away, not wanting to keep direct eye contact. An invisible spark arced across the room, and for a tense few seconds, I felt as though I'd made a great mistake. That was, until she scooped her into a tight squeeze.

"You little sneak," she teased, rubbing beaks with her. "Just like your mother; fixing problems inside with help from outside."

Gloria blinked in surprise. "So you aren't mad?"

The queen rolled her eyes. "Mad? Hardly." With a quick wheel around, she approached me again. "If anything, I should be thanking you, Lawrence. I doubt the dignitaries will like what happened, but you got my kid out of a real bind. I owe you one."

"It was nothing," I admitted. "You can call me 'Lance', however. 'Lawrence' was but a handle I assumed, Miss--"

"Gilda," the queen answered readily, offering a talon. "Pleased to meet ya."

"The pleasure is all mine," I told her, trying to maintain good humor. "Though if you're offering favors, I have one I'd like to ask of you."

"I'm all ears, kid."

I briefly explained to Gilda about my concern with the temples, describing the shape of the previous one and asking where she might know of one.

"Ancient temples, huh." Gilda preened her feathers. "Might be one due west of here in that mountain range just before you hit the border. Not sure you'll find an awful lot, but you're free to go lookin'. Not really my thing anyhow."

I nodded knowingly. "You have my thanks."

Gilda smiled, looking particularly pleased with herself. "No prob." She eyed the clock for a moment, realizing the time. "I should bounce. Gotta go mess around with politics and sort this thing out."

"Far be it for us to stop you, Your Highness," Spike replied.

Gilda gave us a quick two-talon salute and made her way out. Private once more, we all had a nice laugh. Myself excluded, of course; laughing only made the stomachache that much worse. I was laughing on the inside, believe me. It wasn't as potent a medicine, but it didn't cause me all manner of tearing pains.

Of course, time was the healer of my wounds in the end. By the time I was able to walk on my own again, waterskin in one hand and bouquet in the other, I'd almost regretted wanting to leave. But, business was business; pursuits of romance could wait. I stood watch at the port, legs dangling from the pier as I watched the sun sink in the west. My mind wandered off to speculate on the next temple, and about my next encounter with Megan. Will I be able to meet her expectations? Will I be able to put up a decent fight? Will I find anything more of my origins?

I lost track of time for a while, save the brief moment of lucidity needed to keep my balance. The others were busy preparing to leave, and here I was, trying to drink in the vista for a little while longer.

"Real sight, isn't it?" Gloria approached from behind, taking a seat next to me. "A few years back, this place was a shantytown. Nobody wanted nothin' from nobody else except bits. Even having somebody save your life cost you a fortune."

I chuckled lowly. "And yet now they can hold feasts like those."

"Just goes to show how important connections are," Gloria summarized. "You should probably be up there with your guys, chatting it up instead of staring off into space."

"Maybe." I gave a loud groan as I stretched. "I just wanted to take in what I could of this sunset before I left. After all the hustle, I need some time to unwind."

Gloria nodded. "Fair enough, I guess." A redness filled her face for a moment as she nervously scratched her chin. "Say, about what you said in the clinic."

"Yeah?"

"I know you meant you didn't want to marry," she said, seeming to strain herself as she talked. "But, if you're single and all...maybe I could be your special someone?"

I froze. First I was the one to free her, and now I was the one she wished to bind herself to? To say nothing of turnarounds. I didn’t relish the thought of turning her down; she had gone to so much trouble to seek me and everything. And yet, I couldn't be so hasty to accept. But, seeing no easy way to put it, I decided to be earnest in my feelings.

"Gloria, I'll be direct with you." I gave a sigh as I placed a hand on my shoulder. "You are perhaps one of the most beautiful women I've yet seen in my travels, inside and out. The way you can combine royalty and casualness honestly amazes me. You'd make anyone a proud husband.

"But, while I'd be happy to have that opportunity, I am still young, and I've much more that needs to be done first. Tombs to explore, summons to deliver, places to visit, adventures to be had, and friends to make. I suspect you've got things you need to do as a fledgeling princess, too. So, instead of a proposal, I leave a promise: If, at the end of my journey, neither of us have found that better half to make our lives truly whole, than may it be with each other that we find everlasting harmony."

Gloria shied away again, uneasy. She placed a talon behind her head, scratching away her misgivings.

"Wow, man," she stammered. "That's, like, super cheesy."

"I have a flair for the theatric," I admitted as I waved my hand dismissively. "Nothing to worry about."

Gloria clutched my hand, smiling as she pecked my cheek.

"At least it came from an honest heart," she said, drawing me into a hug. "I'll be waiting for the day, big guy."

I stood up, bringing Gloria up with me. "While you wait, might I trouble you to come to the Grand Equestrian Summit? You know, to represent Griffonstone?"

Gloria nodded swiftly. "I'd be glad to."

I parted hands with her thusly, waving her farewell as I boarded the Mysterious Melissa. "Then I hope I can make it there to see you again."

"Just a second!" Before I reached the peak, Gloria stopped me at the wrist again. "Before you go, I wanted to give you one last thing."

Hastily, she fetched something from a bag that I'd only now noticed she was wearing. It was a haphazardly-wrapped, curious long box, inside which held a miniaturized version of the rifles that her girls used, alongside another smaller box and a large pouch, bulging with what I assumed were bullets.

"Figured I'd leave you with something to remember me by," she said, taking the firearm out and demonstrating the revolving mechanism for me. "It's one of my best pistols; I call him Grendel. He's real good for dueling. You could probably hit an apple from 5 meters with it."

"I'm afraid this isn't really my sort of weapon." I shook my head. "I did learn of Equestrian firearms, but I never could use them."

"That's why I'm giving you one of mine," Gloria grunted. "It's a side-arm. In that box is all the stuff you need to keep that thing nice and load it. Ideally, you shouldn't have to use it, but I hope it comes in handy."

I held the pistol aloft cautiously, not daring to have my fingers anywhere near the trigger. It was decently heavy, but not unwieldy. I could see it being useful, though I wasn't certain of it at the time.

"I suppose I've got no choice, then," I chuckled, putting the new weapon safely away, unloaded. "I appreciate the gift; I'll be sure to hang onto it."

I quickly made my way onto the ship as the engines started. Gloria's grin was wide when we started to embark. From what was once a captor, I now had a potential companion. Not merely a friend, but a lifelong partner. Forged by the flame of happenstance, it might not be quite the best encounter, but given how it turned out, I couldn’t complain; especially not with a new memento to go along with it.

The morrow certainly held good omens for quite long after, in the end.

Comments

[Seeking Dusk]

Ah! Continuity! Queen Gilda

[AdamThePony]

6244224
One of the advantages of having a story be canon-agnostic: you can easily adapt to changes in the canon.

[Seeking Dusk]

6244977 I like that she hasn't changes all that much, her personality still being the same. Queen Gilda, you've done well to lead your people back to prosperity. Her daughter is pretty cool too.

[HB_DS2013]

Queen Gilda... Something tells me griffons age faster than ponies.