> The Traveling Tutor and the Diplomats Daughter > by Georg > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Ch. 1 - The Gilded Cage > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Traveling Tutor and the Diplomat’s Daughter The Gilded Cage Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage. — Richard Lovelace They sure as Tartarus do. — Count of Mounte Cincho The Royal Princess sat on the windowsill of her prison cell, looking mournfully out the window at the pony guards far below. Even the warm rays of sunshine that gave her feathers a soft glow did not bring joy to her restless heart. Somewhere out there was adventure, excitement, devious schemes against her homeland to be foiled, horrible monsters to be vanquished, perhaps even… cake. The Princess licked her beak at the tempting thought and leaned up against the glass to get a better look at the courtyard far below. The Diplomatic Wing of the castle was decorated in fine alabaster stones soaring up the majestic walls and architecture that reminded her so much of the towering mist-covered mountains of home, all of which she had been forbidden to explore. ‘It’s too dangerous, Princess Sunny.’ ‘The wind is too strong, Princess Sunny.’ ‘Perhaps tomorrow, my little Sunbeam.’ Unspoken as always was how her mother had died, caught in a downdraft and smashed against the unyielding granite of the mountains. She was too young to understand, or at least that was the view of her father and Aunt Gilda. Grandfather had understood far too well the heartache she had experienced, and always had time for a tickle, or a story, or to take the little griflet on his back for a flight through the treacherous gusts of the Misty Mountains. Father was always upset after such a flight, wanting her to finish growing up before she touched the sky. It was always today in Father’s calendar, never tomorrow. Maybe by tomorrow her wings would finally finish growing their prickly pinfeathers into real flight feathers, tomorrow maybe Aunt Gilda would have time away from the constant bickering of the Aerie Council to spend a few hours with her, tomorrow would be different. Today would be different. While Grandfather and Father were busy diplomaticing with the pony princesses, Princess Sun Shines on the Misty Mountains at Dawn Through Early Morning Hazy Skies would go out into the unexplored castle and explore! No dusty corner would remain secret, no hidden chambers would escape her sharp vision, no nefarious plots and schemes would be unfoiled. Nothing would stop her quest for adventure out in the exciting— “Sunny, please get down from the window. You’ll fade your feathers.” “Yes, Auntie Billow.” The little princess hopped down from the window, off a chair, and onto the cold marble floor that covered the entire diplomatic suite. One quick skitter of tiny talons across the floor to the safety of a warm rug later, she glanced at Aunt Billowing Clouds About The Mountain Peaks Heavy With Snow with a well-concealed distaste. Her aunt ignored the little fledgling’s predatory glare and fluffed up her grey feathers, settling deeper into a cushion sitting in the warm ray of morning sunlight that streamed through the closed balcony window without apparent thought to the hypocrisy of her actions. Aunt Billow slept a lot anyway, and the long trip from the Misty Mountains had taken a lot out of the old biddy. Sunny had spent the long, cold flight cuddled up to Grandfather in the carriage, sleeping through the night. Now the sun was up, she was up, and everygriffon had places to be and things to do except her. She ruffled her pinfeathered wings and snapped her beak in irritation before regarding the door to freedom, and the key being held by her snoozing aunt. Even after she got the key and managed to escape, wandering around the castle or city by herself would certainly attract attention from the skittish ponies, resulting in a rapid return to her diplomatic prison with a more alert jailor. She wished Aunt Gilda had been able to come along, but she was busy, as always, doing important Big Griffon stuff back at the aerie. She had not even been able to bring one of the obedient pony servants from home to accompany her on an exploration of this new and fascinating place. They could be ordered around far easier than the Royal Guard ponies who patrolled the hallways here, and the pony guards most likely would have no respect at all for her royal status within the Misty Mountain Kingdom. She needed an ignorant patsy. But where to find one? * * * Even while the train was wheezing to a halt in Canterlot Station, Green Grass had already stood up and begun hefting his suitcase off the baggage shelf. It was strictly forbidden to stand up before the train had stopped, but with the tight press of other ponies doing exactly the same thing, he would have been in more danger of suffocation by remaining seated. Fighting through the crowd to exit the train was an exercise in diplomacy and tact in the capital city; you never knew if the hoof you trod was attached to an easily-upset royal, or a simple country pony visiting the big city. Even after dozens of trips back to his home city, Green Grass was still not sure just what category he fit. After all, he was the third and last son of a baron, bearer of a proud unicorn lineage that could be traced back through a hundred generations of proud horned aristocracy, and seven different historical links to Princess Platinum, even if they were somewhat weak links and more than one a theorized scribble in an ancient tome with no witnesses. Then again, being an earth pony born into a long and supposedly unbroken line of unicorns (although there were more than one whose family portrait always showed them with a hat), he always felt a bit of darkly-wooled sheepishness in his blood. His older brother Graphite had always teased him in a rather good-natured way about his hornless nature and thick green coat, and although he had teased back, he always felt like he came in a distinct second to his handsome unicorn brother with the dashing silver mane and the glossy dark coat so similar to his name. Mares always seemed to skip right on past the dull green earth pony whenever either of his big brothers were in the room. Until recently. It took a great deal of effort to avoid grinning like an idiot around the handle of his suitcase as he walked out into the train station commons. This last year had been such a dramatic shift from his expected career of tutoring small-town unicorn students in their first magic. His first year had been — well, it was hard to use the word ‘ordinary’ in a career where you stood such a high risk of being transformed into a cactus or potted fern while dealing with a young student who experienced a magical surge at exactly the wrong time. Perhaps ‘exciting’ or ‘fascinating’ would be more descriptive, but they paled with what he had gone through on the start of his second year of teaching. With seven school districts in the Ponyville valley and vicinity, there were not enough very young unicorns to support a full-time Unicorn Magic Youth Education Specialist (UM-YES-1) in just one school, but more than enough to support a young tutor out to prove himself and willing to spend just two months at a time at each school. The first year had been deliriously wonderful, away from his parents and their overwhelming matrimonial drive, with his own wagon for living quarters and all the books he could read. The rural populations were much more accepting of an earth pony with a special talent for teaching young unicorns their first magic than the stuck-up unicorns of Canterlot, and so the city he had grown up in felt far less ‘home’ than a small town he had only known for a short while. Of course a certain inhabitant of that small town had a lot to do with that, once their initial meetings — some ponies would say ‘small war’ — had been properly resolved⁽*⁾. The two of them did not get to spend nearly enough time together, what with his schedule and her rather strenuous extracurricular activities⁽¹⁾, but for the next two days, their schedules matched. Two glorious days and two exquisite nights in Canterlot with nothing to do but be in each other’s company. Well, with one chaperone, who had proven himself to be quite discrete. (*) The Traveling Tutor and the Librarian (1) Nightmare Moon, Discord, Chrysalis, and collecting Princess Luna’s overdue library fines. — “Good morning, sir.” Standing at the edge of the train station platform to greet him was a patient mink-tan unicorn with just enough mottling in his coat to indicate an Appaloosian ancestor or two, contrasting well against his custom-tailored black suit with creases so sharp they could be used to shave. His valet, Friday Haystings, was a fairly recent parentally enforced addition to his rapidly-complicating life during his relatively infrequent visits to his home town of Canterlot. Mother and Father had been most adamant about his assignment in their best unyielding hard-headed fashion, and Green Grass had decided it was in his best interests to simply pass on this battle, saving his strength for truly important fights, such as their idea of how his life should be lived. To his great relief, Friday had been the perfect silent shadow during the other brief times he and Twilight had managed to get a day or two together in Canterlot, handling restaurant reservations and schedules with perfect timing and grace. But only in Canterlot. After all, having a gentlecolt’s gentlecolt in small town Ponyville or one of the other tiny towns where he spent nearly all of his time teaching would have been horrible overkill. Not to mention Green Grass’ traveling wagon only had enough space to sleep one. Or a very comfy two. The older tan servant always made Green Grass feel like a tiny colt again during his visits. Friday was at least three times his age and most probably twice his wit. Efforts to avoid the valet by slipping into town unannounced had been completely fruitless to this point, leading Green Grass to suspect some divine intervention in the scheduling of the dry old coot, or a string of unbelievably bad luck⁽²⁾ on his part. (2) It was just luck. The probability that the eldest Princess of Equestria would actually track the coltfriend of her most precious student, or that Lord Night Light, the father of said student and Director of the Office of Diplomatic Support Services would either, was vanishingly small. Officially. — Although a smile never touched the lips of the elderly gentlecolt, his topaz eyes glittered with amusement as he lifted Green Grass’ luggage in his magic without any sign of strain and set it to float behind them as they walked. That somber disposition hid a subtle humor and razor-sharp wit, which he seemed to sharpen every morning until it could shave steel. Green Grass had once theorized the manespray which kept the old codger’s chocolate-brown mane so crisp and sharp had over the years soaked into his entire face, and a single smile would cause him to shatter like glass, although the theory was still untested. At least, at the urging of his young employer, Friday had begun to wear a hat. Not for the camouflaging effect for which Green Grass adorned his bare earth pony noggin among his unicorn peers. And not the tutor’s rather shapeless (or as he preferred to think of it, shape-able) head covering. A shining bowler of near adamantine hardness crowned the servant’s rigid mane with all the solidity of an armored helmet and much the same inevitable placement, seeming as if Friday were turned upside-down and shaken, not even a loose bit would fall out. The only concession he had made for his bowler hat was a fairly substantial notch in the brim to accommodate his horn. Green Grass, being an earth pony, needed no such alteration, to the eternal regret of his unicorn parents. “Shall I summon a taxi, sir? Or shall we be walking to the castle?” “I believe we can walk, Friday,” said Green Grass with a genuine smile that only faltered momentarily as the word ‘castle’ sunk in. “Is there something wrong at home?” “Oh, no sir. Your oldest brother Regal’s wedding planning is coming to a head, and several of your aunts are visiting to assist. The Princesses made the offer of a castle suite a few hours ago, and I thought it only wise to accept on your behalf.” “Oh.” Green Grass’ relief at not staying at his home was counterbalanced by trepidation at actually staying inside the Canterlot castle, with its two powerful alicorn princesses who seemed to think of him as a convenient playing piece in their favorite game of pranks. Well, three princesses, although he had only seen Princess Cadence once, at her wedding. Technically twice, but since one of those sightings and introductions turned out to be with a vicious, love-eating bug, he preferred to simply pretend it had never happened, along with the green goop, the changelings dropping out of the sky, and an hour or two of frantic running and hiding inside the castle with four young unicorn students whom he had promised to escort. To his chagrin, his young students had been more effective at fighting changelings than their adult teacher. Still, the fate of Equestria couldn’t be at risk every time he managed to get a day or two alone with his marefriend, and perhaps this week would be different. Friday continued to stride alongside Green Grass as they walked briskly through the city, his suitcase bobbing along in their wake. “Princess Celestia has assigned you the North Star suite for the next two days, along with an extremely limited staff. Most of the staff are dealing with the rather abrupt appearance of a new city south of the Crystal Mountains, and the subsequent arrival of the Griffon ambassadorial party. They seem upset that the Crystal Empire has returned within their claimed lands, and both Princess Cadence and Prince-Consort Shining Armor have been dispatched to deal with the situation at the source.” “Oh?” The concept of being able to spend time with his marefriend without the constant observation of her brother began to spread a warm light in his soul, only to be extinguished as Friday continued to speak. “Of course, the Elements of Harmony have been sent to assist, as there is an additional complication.” “Oh.” His teaching experience suppressed a second word starting with ‘F.’ After a few more steps, Green Grass could no longer contain his curiosity. “Would this additional complication be some hideous evil beast with tentacles and slime?” “I don’t believe the danger Her Highness was concerned about was tentacular in nature, sir. In any event, I have been assured the situation is well under control, and the return of the young mares shall only be the matter of a few days, hopefully before your scheduled departure the day after next. Certainly you will be able to find something productive to do around the castle for that short amount of time, sir. Yes?” > Ch. 2 - Signs of the Times > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Traveling Tutor and the Diplomat’s Daughter Signs of the Times What fools these mortals be. — Buck of the Flutterpony Kingdom Canterlot Castle - The Meridian Wing, near the Quaternary Formal Dining Hall. The young Neighponese Ninja Princess slunk silently down the darkened corridor, the Prison of the Gilded Cage far behind her as she descended deeper into the Castle of the Usurper Ponies. Somewhere up ahead, the kitchen slaves of the Evil Warrior Princess labored at their tasks, churning out delicious treats for the fat ponies under her dominion, without a thought for the poor starving griffons. Her tummy rumbled again, attempting to betray her hiding position to a pair of the Warrior Princess’ armored guards, one a creamy white male pegasus and the other a dark batwinged mare, both stationed obstinately in front of the only access to the kitchens. The Ninja Princess was a fearsome fighter, but without her armor and weapons, she would be lucky to subdue one of the ferocious guards, let alone two. At first, her best approach seemed to be stealth, setting up a lightning-speed ambush on one of the minions bent over heavy loads as they groaned their way back and forth from whatever decadent feast the Evil Warrior Princess had put on for her tubby court sycophants, but upon closer examination, the feast appeared to be long over, and only empty dishes were returning through the well-guarded portal. She slipped to a better observation post and willed her unruly tummy to silence when suddenly her sharp hearing caught a bit of conversation from a nearby room that drew her attention like a magnet. “I’m sorry, Friday. I just don’t feel like eating.” The voice sounded just perfect: slow, heavy, not very bright, and best of all, not very hungry. “I’m terribly sorry, sir. I’m under strict orders from your mother to ensure your nutritional needs are properly being met. It seems your recent weight loss has her rather worried.” The second voice sounded dangerous. There was a certain air of adult experience about it that boded ill for any attempt at manipulation. Fortunately it also sounded subservient to the first voice, which fluffed her feathers in a surge of happiness. She had found her patsy. * * * This late after the lunch hour, the kitchen staff break room was empty of staff and only slightly filled with Green Grass and Friday, so a certain degree of informality had spread between the employer and employee. Friday had not put up any objection when Green Grass had loosened his tie, and Green Grass had not objected when a certain number of additional pastries had appeared upon the tray his servant had retrieved from the kitchen. The tempting tarts had little or no magnetic effect on the dieting stallion, despite his long struggle with his last few stubborn excess pounds that had resisted even the most strenuous exercise program. The uncertainty of what Twilight was going through in the Crystal Kingdom had suppressed his appetite rather solidly, much the same way each of the other ‘events’ she had been involved in since they had first met had resulted in a fractional drop in his weight. A rather cynical calculation one day had brought him to the conclusion that his diet was actually a wasted effort. If he ever did get up the nerve to actually use the engagement ring he had been carrying for the last two months to propose marriage, he would simply vanish away long before the two of them were in need of a retirement stable. A ragged bowl of salad in front of Green Grass had indeed once been greener than the diner’s thick furry coat, but after significant additions of various salad additives, dressings and a period of poking and prodding, it could best be thought of as a brownish-grey trending to yech! His continued weak prodding of the muddy surface caused no tempting delicacy to float to the top, but it did take his mind off what was probably happening inside the Crystal Empire with Twilight and her six friends, one⁽*⁾ of whom was probably treating his crystalline surroundings much as Pinkie Pie in a cake storage facility. (*) The Crystal Ponies were a very polite society. No mention was ever made of a tiny little bite on the very edge of the Crystal Heart, much as if a small dragon had not been able to resist the temptation to take one nibble, just to see what it tasted like. — The faint scritch, scritch of talons on flagstone outside the room brought Green Grass’ head up in joy with hopes of distraction before the door creaked open and a small feathered head poked in. “Excuse me, mithther,” lisped the little griffon fledgeling. “My daddy said to thee if you could show me around the castle. Pleathe?” Little griffon eyes looked up in pleading yellow pools of pure cuteness, only slightly offset in sheer adorableness by her razor-sharp beak. Topping it all off were a pair of feathery fluffs sticking straight forward from the top of her head like little fluffy pom-poms. The little griffon just looked so cute and adorable with her innocent yellow eyes, trying to twist him around one of her little talons. She was a reminder of his youth, of days spent avoiding any real work or studying, all of the fun and none of the responsibilities of adulthood. She was trouble. Green Grass liked her instantly. “Yes!” said Green Grass, hopping up from his seat like it had just bit him. Outthinking a little troublemaker while playing tour-guide was just what he needed to distract himself from his worries about Twilight and her friends in the Crystal Kingdom. “Of course. Right away. Come on in while I clean up the lunch things and we can get started right away, Miss...?” “Daddy calls me Sunny!” chirped the little griffon with a hop up to the table. “He says I’m really big now and can go look at all of the castle, but I thought it would be better if took along a smart grown-up.” “I see,” said Green Grass, scraping a few scattered remnants of his salad back into the brown bowl while considering just where the fledgeling’s lisp had gone. As the tutor placed his abused salad bowl into the dirty dishes basket, a single donut vanished off his tray behind him. And then an eclair. “Well, Sunny. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Green Grass, and this is Friday Haystings, my valet.” “Charmed to meet such a well-mannered young miss,” said Friday, watching a third pastry in the form of a cupcake vanish into the little griffon with no signs of her slowing to chew. There had been quite a few pastries shoved to one side of his tray after Friday had brought their lunch back from the kitchens. While Friday had insisted the staff had snuck them on the tray when he had picked up a few kitchen leftovers for his employer, Green Grass suspected they were added simply so his parents would be mollified at his attempt to get their slimming son beefed back up again. Now their sugary goodness seemed to be attracting a great deal more attention from Sunny than expected, and the tutor waved with a grin. “I hope your father doesn’t mind if you were to have a few pastries? I’m on a diet, and I’m afraid Friday had an entire hard-boiled egg for lunch.” “Absolutely stuffed, sir.” Friday Haystings lifted his eggcup and placed it on a spotless plate. If there were a single atom of egg remaining within the neatly bisected eggshell or on the glistening spoon it would have been a great surprise to the both of them. “So I suppose a few—” Nearly half the pastries on the tray had vanished by the time Green Grass turned back to look at Sunny, but it was horribly obvious where they had vanished to, or into would be more accurate. “*?” The innocent fledgeling tried to chirp, but splattered a few bits of frosting around the strudel wedged in her beak as she talked. With a gentle smile harking back to fond memories of his own youth, Green Grass asked, “Doesn’t your father have a rule about not talking with your beak full?” “Rules are dumb,” scoffed Sunny after a quick gulp, making a grab for a muffin. “They just exist to keep us from having fun. ‘Don’t climb the drapes, Sunny. Don’t eat so many cookies, Sunny.” “Nonsense!” Green Grass scoffed, displaying a level of maturity which would have made several of his teachers over the years quite justifiably suspicious. “Rules have been created by our betters who have only our best interests in minds. They exist to make the world run smoothly. Enforce the natural order of things. Preventing tummy aches.” He scooted the tray with the last few pastries away from the little fledgeling with a smile, and pointed to a small sign on the wall that read ‘Please take your dishes back to the kitchen.’ “I would be willing to bet I can show you how following the rules can be a great deal of fun.” * * * The two guards at the entrance to the Royal Court remained at their perfect balance of alertness and immobility, despite nearly an hour remaining before the afternoon session of court was scheduled to start. Guard duty was a boring job, even when the corridor was filled with royals awaiting their five minutes with Her Royal Highness, but no Royal Guard ever wished for their job to become interesting, because that would mean disaster. Still, it was a nice break to the tedium to see two staffponies dressed in paint-splattered work smocks carry a sign into the corridor and begin the delicate task of affixing it to the centuries-old walls. And even more interesting was the small griffon who trailed along in their wake, asking questions and generally getting in the way much like the youth of any race. The griffon fledgeling quickly grew tired of watching the green and tan ponies work, wandering over to the guards much as if inspecting several interesting statues. Only statues did not get a non-stop stream of questions and quite the in-depth inspection the young feathered menace gave the annoyed guards, lasting until the workponies began to leave, and the little griffon skittered after them, to the guard’s great relief. They never even noticed the contents of the sign the workponies left behind. * * * There was just something ever so slightly off about Afternoon Court that tickled at Princess Celestia’s senses, and it took until the fifth petitioner was introduced until she realized just what it was. The wife of Baron Hoffenstrotter was wearing the most beautiful hat in a soft shade of yellow with pink flowers in the brim. It would not have caught her attention, if it were not exactly the same hat worn by the Landgravess of Vellia not more than a half-hour ago. After dismissing the Baron with a sincere promise to read his petition and return an opinion, she directed the guards to hold off allowing any more attendees into the throne room for a few minutes. It was not an unusual request, as the Princess frequently had other business to attend to between granting private audiences. What was unusual was for the Princess of the Sun to sneak to the throne room doors and peek through the crack between them at the corridor outside. The normal afternoon routine of highly stuffy ponies trying to ignore each other while waiting their turn to present highly stuffy requests to their Princess was absent from the corridor outside the throne room. In its place was a nearly carnival atmosphere where the normally touchy aristocracy were gleefully trying on each other’s hats, comparing them with each other’s outfits and attempting to make a good match. Hats had been going out of the formal style for several years now, and only a scattered few ponies still wore them to court, so the sudden popularity of them puzzled her until she managed to see a sign pegged against the corridor wall. All attendees must wear a hat. Suppressing a snort of laughter, Celestia returned to her throne and called for a courier. For a pony who seemed to complain about being used as a game piece, Green Grass certainly seemed to enjoy the Game. That was unmistakably his precise writing on the sign, and it would be a shame if she did not take her turn. If nothing else, it would take both of their minds off what Twilight Sparkle was going through in the Crystal Empire. * * * There was a firm rapping at the door to the staff changing room, followed by a brawny pegasus, poking his head inside without waiting for a response. The Royal Guard was dressed in traditional golden armor, only with a certain powerful glow to it that indicated many hours of intense concentrated polishing. He took the sight of two ponies changing clothes on the other side of a partition away from a rather amused griffon fledgeling entirely in stride without a single blink of surprise or curiosity. “Pardon me. Is Lord Green Grass here?” “Terribly sorry,” said Green Grass, struggling to get into his last shoe. “His Lordship is presently unavailable.” With a bit of prying and wedging, and significant smacking against a low bench, he finally got the shoe properly seated, looking up to see the same guard still poised at the door with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Would His Lordship be available now?” With a final kick against the changing bench, Green Grass nodded with considerable trepidation. “Her Most Royal And Serene Highness, Princess Celestia, Ruler of the Daytime Sky, and Co-Regent of Equestria, hereby requires and requests your presence at Her table this evening, for dinner.” A brief mental image of Green Grass stuffed, baked, and served with an apple in his mouth to the Griffon Ambassadors as an apology for whatever diplomatic slight they could manufacture flashed through his mind before rationality set in. They probably ate ponies raw, anyway. “Busted,” giggled Sunny, rolling around on her back and kicking all four limbs in the air in joy. “Her Most Royal and Serene Highness expressed the sincere hope that you might provide escort for Her Royal Highness, pardon me for a moment, my Griffon is a bit rusty.” The guard coughed into one hoof before launching into a series of screeches and chirps that Green Grass could barely follow as ‘Princess Sun Shines on the Misty Mountains at Dawn Through Early Morning Hazy Skies’ “—as her guest of honor at a private dinner. Would you happen to know where the Princess in question is staying so I might deliver the invitation, M’Lord?” The little fledgling stopped her giggling to look at the three very serious ponies in the room. “Oops?” “Busted,” whispered Friday with as close to a smile as Green Grass had ever seen. Extending a hoof, he bent in a half-bow to Sunny. “If Her Highness would permit my assistance at rising from the ground, it shall be my pleasure to see you and the young lad off for your dinner invitation with Princess Celestia. As I understand, Master Green Grass has some small experience escorting royalty, and should make a marvelous companion for you. I so look forward to his recitation of the events of this evening.” The taciturn servant and the Royal Guard exchanged glances, the growing happy glow on the guard’s face giving an indication his job had not yet run its course. “Friday Haystings, I presume?” “Yes, sir?” “I am quite pleased to say the invitation is for three guests.” > Ch. 3 - Food for Thought > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Traveling Tutor and the Diplomat’s Daughter Food for Thought Eat, Drink, and Be Merry, for Tomorrow We Die(t) — Watchers of Weight The eager griffon fledgeling was all eyes as she and her two companions were escorted through the castle corridors into the Residence Quarter. The Misty Mountains Airie was well over three centuries old, with trophies and tapestries adorned with precious stones in the fashion of the griffon empire, of which the Misty Mountain tribes were only a small portion. The Equestrian empire was well over a thousand years old, with many, many times the population and a sense of fashion⁽*⁾ that the griffons could only aspire towards. (*) Griffons had a fashion sense very similar to magpies, in their preference for bright colors and sparkly objects, as well as a relative lack of respect for other’s property. — Ancient Aegean pottery displayed on plinths offset busts of important ponies from ancient ages, as well as priceless paintings of every style imaginable tastefully arranged on every wall among the soaring arches and delicate filigree that generations of pony artisans had spent decorating the residence of their beloved Princess. It was all so beautiful and familiar to Green Grass as the three of them were escorted along, that he missed something his little fledgeling friend spotted almost immediately. “Hey, mithter,” lisped Sunny, using her big yellow eyes on the tutor, which probably would have worked better if she had not tried using the fake lisp too. “Where are the pithchurs of Celestia?” “I would think Princess Celestia knows what she looks like,” said Green Grass cautiously while looking around and confirming Sunny’s observation. His relatively few visits to this section of the castle to date had been in the presence of Twilight Sparkle, and for some reason he had not been paying nearly as much attention to his surroundings then. “Maybe she just doesn’t like having herself painted.” Friday cleared his throat unnecessarily. “There are a great number of paintings, sculpture and other artistic endeavors across the years dedicated to Her Highness presently displayed for the public in the Sunrise Gallery on a rotating basis. I understand a guided tour can take the entire day.” “Really?” Green Grass perked up at the thought. “I should take Twilight when she gets back.” “I wouldn’t advise it, sir.” Not getting any response from the lovestruck young tutor, Friday continued, “Hours of walking. Ten centuries of paintings. Princess Celestia in all poses. Reclining. Standing. All around you. Looking at you.” “Oh. It can’t really be that bad, can it?” “The prime mural in their collection is entitled ‘Celestia Among The Flowers.’ Her Highness is portrayed reclining in a field among a large collection of foals of all ages and genders, embracing them affectionately.” “That doesn’t sound too— how affectionately?” With no response from Friday other than a faint twitch down one flank, Green Grass rather weakly sighed, “Oh. Perhaps the Royal Observatory, then.” “I shall endeavor to procure a reservation for tomorrow evening, sir.” Sunny blew a raspberry at her two stodgy old pony escorts. “Who wants to look at dumb old stars anyway? Grandpa says they’re just placeholders until the sun comes back up.” Green Grass bit back his first three rejoinders, settling on, “This would be your grandfather, Wingmaster Talon of the Misty Mountains, who presently is in negotiations with Princess Luna over ownership of the newly reappeared Crystal Empire by the Crystal Mountain range. I certainly hope he keeps that particular pithy observation to himself while speaking with Her Highness, Princess Luna, Guardian of the Ebon Veil and Matron of the Moon and Stars.” Sunny glanced up at the tutor at the change in his voice. “Father always said grandfather was a bit direct.” “Being direct when you are being honest is a good thing. Being direct when you know it will hurt somepony is not always good.” “So how can you tell the difference?” Green Grass hesitated long enough in his response for Friday to thankfully intercede. “Experience, young miss. Regrettably, there is little that can be taught in that regard. The young are forced to muddle through those decisions on their own.” “True,” said Green Grass. “But we young muddlers always have older and wiser minds to help, if we only ask.” * * * In the Residence Quarter of the castle quite near the Solarium, there was a very small private dining room used only by the Royal Sisters for the rare evening dinners when they happened to be free from their royal obligations. Originally quite small and only able to fit one, when one alicorn was all who would be attending dinner anyway, it had been rather rapidly remodeled when Princess Cadence had been discovered. A few years later when Princess Luna had made her appearance, the castle staff had carried out a second renovation, only this time it had been expanded out to be able to seat four with a small attached kitchenette. No explanation of the alteration had been forthcoming from the castle staff, or requested by any of Her Royal Highnesses, but a fourth set of blank plates and silverware had been stored in the china hutch, just in case. In case, turned out to be now. Celestia was still levitating plates out onto what an alicorn would consider a ‘small’ table when Princess Sunny and her escorts arrived, being abandoned by their armored guardians outside the door and forced to walk into the small dining room by themselves. “Princess Sun Shines!” exclaimed Princess Celestia with a happy smile. “Come in, come in. I’m almost done setting the table. Greenie, would you be a dear and get out the silverware while Friday helps out in the kitchen with the salad?” Green Grass was almost positive that Princess Celestia, Diarch of Equestria, had carefully arranged the timing of their arrival to correspond with this exact stage of table-setting for whatever reason she may have planned, but in order not to break his role in her carefully stage-managed production of royal domesticity, he opened the silverware hutch and began laying out forks and spoons just as he was expected. “Come over here, Princess Sun Shines, and we’ll get some cushions for the chair so you can reach the table. I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you. I swear, the pictures your father showed me just don’t do you justice. You’ve grown so much.” “Daddy talks about me?” Sunny hopped up on the chair the Princess indicated and rearranged the cushions for easy access to her plate. “Only all the time! Why, just this morning, he…” Green Grass nodded along as the dinner progressed, settling into his comfortable role of conversational foil as the two Princesses chattered away. It was both frightening and pleasurable to realize that slightly more than a year ago, he had such a bad case of SERS⁽¹⁾ that he had only been able to talk with Her Highness with a bucket over his head. Several private meetings had been organized by Twilight Sparkle since then to take the razor edge off his fear, and eventually the sharp point, until all he had left now was a deep and substantial respect for Princess Celestia. (1) Sudden Exposure to Royalty Syndrome, a condition in which the common pony may exhibit hyperventilation, panic attacks, babbling, or fainting spells⁽²⁾ when abruptly exposed to a Princess at close range. Not a modern phenomena, as it dated back to ancient days and heralded the development of the Royal Herald, the Royal Tea Party, and the Newspaper Scandal Sheet as treatments to reduce the symptoms by both warning and previous exposure, much like vaccination. In Green Grass’ case, he had been ‘vaccinated’ enough for a trip to Zebrica. (2) In Green Grass’ case, all four symptoms at once. — Her sister was quite different. Finding out that Princess Luna regarded him as both a pony with useful historical knowledge, and as a possibly suitable suitor for Twilight was interesting, to say the least, and turned out to be less frightening that he would have guessed to have her trot into the middle of his dreams with a list of questions every few nights. Weird, but not frightening, at least after the first few times. He made no pretensions about understanding the ways of mares, and that went double for Twilight, and triple for Princess Celestia. Luna was mind-twistingly difficult to understand at all, but he was learning. All those happy thoughts vanished when the servant placed the first hors d'oeuvre in front of his plate. The anxiety he had been suppressing all day flooded back into his mind, tying his gut back up in knots and raising the taste of acid in the back of his throat. Whatever Twilight and her friends were doing in that city in the Crystal Empire was most certainly dangerous, from the colorful lights in the northern sky that had broken out this afternoon. Trying not to worry about the sudden light display had made him concentrate on the little grifflet’s educational odyssey in sign-making and pony observational psychology to the exclusion of all else, until he saw food. All the tension rushed back into the muscles of his stomach, and suddenly the bruschetta he had just been about to bite felt as if it was going to bite back with sharp fangs. “By the way, Lord Green Grass,” said Celestia in a lilting voice that cut through his depression like a knife. “I’m quite pleased to tell you I’ve received a letter from Twilight Sparkle. She has successfully completed her project in the Crystal Empire and should be back in Canterlot by tomorrow evening. She specifically mentioned that I should pass the word on to you, but things have been so hectic around the castle today.” “That’s wonderful, Your High—” Her soft words took a few moments to soak into his stressed mind, but when they did, Green Grass looked up at the smiling Princess Celestia with a sudden urge to ask just when she had received Twilight’s letter, and just why he had not been informed at that time. Said urge was rather rapidly beaten into submission before being thrown into a mental vault with a great number of other beaten and bloody urges which had been properly admonished in the past, while Green Grass composed his features for Sunny. After all, his and Friday’s role in this evening’s production was that of stage crew, not actors. The rumble in his relieved tummy cued him to restrict his response to a thankful smile and a nod to Celestia, who certainly must have shared his apprehension over Twilight’s activities, and was tucking into her appetizers as if she shared his relief. Taking a crunchy bite of the delicious bruschetta and washing it down with what he quickly realized was grape juice, not wine, he welcomed the return of his absent appetite even as he resumed his own proper place in the evening meal. It took only a few sentences to detect the conversational pattern and fade into the background noises of the delicious dinner. “Yes, Your Highness.” “Of course, Your Highness.” “Quite correct, Your Highness.” “That’s a fish?” The rhythm of responses⁽³⁾ he had been happily working his way through was knocked terribly off-kilter by the sudden appearance of what most certainly looked like a dead fish, even if it had been disguised by a greenish sauce quite close in color to his own coat. Admittedly the plate had been placed in front of Sunny, who was barely restraining herself from diving into it beak-first, but it still was a fish, quite dead, and laying there on the plate. Dead. And being a fish. And dead. (3) Pleasant’s Rules for Pleasant Conversations, Chapter 12 - Informal Dinners. Twilight had made him study it extensively after their first social outing, and after three tests he finally passed her examination, thereby earning a reward that was not covered in the book. — Nonplussed, the waiter continued placing plates on the table with a quiet, “Yes, sir. A truite au bleu, chilled poached trout in court bouillon with vinegar, lemon, carrot, celery and onion, garnished with sea salt and black peppercorns. The topping is fresh dill cream, sauteed shallots in butter and deglazed with a fine year of Trottontés wine and pureed with cream and dill fresh from the gardens. Would m’lord care for a portion? There is still a second trout in the kitchen, and Chef Sizzler would be more than pleased to prepare it for you. Admittedly your grilled tofu has the same topping and preparation, but some diners prefer the natural taste of—” “No! I mean, no thank you, sir.” Green Grass swallowed hard and regarded his own dish, which did indeed have the distinguishing characteristics of properly prepared tofu, i.e. no eyes looking up, no scales, no tails, and no other fishy attributes. He had just picked up his fork and was prepared to poke it into his own non-fish dish when Sunny cheerfully chirped, “Did you want a bite? I mean, it’s proper etiquette for Griffons to let the eldest have the first bite of a kill.” “Oh, no. No, no, no. I couldn’t possibly—” Green Grass caught the benevolent expression on Princess Celestia’s face, which was as unguarded as he had ever seen the immortal alicorn. It became suddenly easy to envision a long procession of ancient royal rulers being brought under a warm and affectionate wing at a quiet dinner table early in their youthful lives, and forever more thinking of the mighty Princess Celestia as that large, loving alicorn who was more than happy to help trim the crusts off their bread and pull the seeds out of grapes for them while they were perched on a tall cushion by her feathered side. And then many years later, the hapless confused ruler would be trying to reconcile the real Royal Princess of Equestria standing with them over the negotiation table against their first childhood memories of her dabbing their lips with a napkin at the dinner table. Sunny would not remain a griffon chick for many more years. Eventually, if she did not die from the myrid reasons that gave griffons such short life expectancies, she would become Wingmaster of the Misty Mountain Aerie, undisputed master of nearly a hundred adult griffons. She would visit other kingdoms, and have other discussions, but she would never again be a young fledgeling having the undivided attention of Princess Celestia at her wingtips. All she would have from this night were memories, so they should be good ones. “—override protocol. After all, Princess Celestia is the eldest here and should have the first bite.” Green Grass leaned back in his chair with a warm smile on his face, which cooled as Celestia nodded enthusiastically and produced a fork. “Capital idea, Greenie. May I?” With a nod from Sunny, Celestia scooped up a good forkful of trout and chewed with a blissful expression. “Oh, c'est magnifique. It reminds me so much of my first trip to the Griffon Empire when I met Grand Wingmaster Eile. They tried so hard to make everything under the sun for dinner, and I thought I would just burst. I’m afraid I had to turn down the Lapin Rôti à l'Origan though. I just couldn’t think of eating a bunny.” “Yes, Your Highness,” echoed Green Grass, feeling a teensy bit disconnected from the world. “I couldn’t either.” “Just where are my manners? Sunny, would it be all right for Greenie to have a taste too? After all, he has often remarked about just how many new and exciting things Twilight has shown him. It would be only fair for him to enjoy this too.” With a sudden Celestia-driven golden glow around them, both his and Friday’s forks swooped over to the dead fish, picked up a substantial portion, and returned to their owner’s plates. While Green Grass stared in rapt fascinated horror at the hovering fork, he heard chewing coming from Friday’s direction, followed by a swallowing noise and a delighted, “Ahhh. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything like this, Your Highness.” Leaving Green Grass to stare at the dead fish. Well, the small sauce-covered chunk of dead fish hovering in front of his nose. There was a technique he had used on his parents when faced with distasteful vegetables involving small bites and a large napkin, but with the full knowledge that attempting the same stunt with Princess Celestia would be futile, he leaned forward. Opened his mouth, while trying not to think of fish. Bit down, while trying not to think of fish. Chewed, while trying not to think of fish. And swallowed, while trying really hard not to think of fish swimming upstream. After a quick gulp of grape juice, he speared a piece of tofu and repeated the same process, with less trepidation, and less thought of fish. “It’s… different. I think I prefer my tofu, Your Highnesses.” “More for me.” The little griffon dove into her fish with only minimal attention to knife and fork, but when Green Grass looked away from the carnage, he caught a glimpse of Celestia’s face that made him reevaluate his previous thoughts. As the rest of the courses were served, he began to watch Celestia while mulling over changes to his theory. There was a certain subdued maternal glow to her whole expression throughout dinner, as if for just a few minutes she could once again be transported back in time to when she was just a young filly, being attended to by a pair of loving parents. He really could not blame her for the self-delusion, as it would have been almost impossible for her to either bear or adopt a child without the little one being subjected to the corrosive effects of Equestrian politics from their first breath. With that in mind, there was no record of her having children of her own, even after he had checked many historical records with his own eyes, but she had indeed been ‘close’ with several stallions throughout the centuries, as well as possibly a mare or two. Very few words had been written down, but in context, she had been anything but unloved. Long nighttime conversations with Twilight Sparkle while stargazing had made him realize many things. For one, the ponies who had attempted to suborn his own attentions to gain influence with Baron Chrysanthemum, his father, were rank amateurs. Their attempts seemed so childish now, when compared with the intricate plots Twilight could talk about for hours about ponies attempting to get a hoofs-up to the Princess’ ear. Fortunately, he had not been exposed to many of their ‘professional’ attempts yet, but as Twilight and himself grew nearer to making their difficult decision to join their lives, it was inevitable he would be dragged into the corrosive politics with which she had become so familiar. It was yet another reason the engagement ring he had purchased last month had remained inside his jacket pocket instead of being placed onto its proper place, on the horn of the most beautiful — he shook his head and tried to focus on the dinner. Princess Celestia had favored him with a quelling glance, a very subtle hint that his concentration and conversation had begun to waver once he had begun thinking of Twilight. Celestia was much more subtle than her sister, whose idea of the proper way to wake up an inattentive subject shaded more to the vivid intrusive daydream and tended to trigger SERS attacks among certain green-coated earth ponies. It was regrettable that Luna had very little written about her that history had not flavored excessively, garnished with lies and fantasy, and topped with brilliant short stories that pretended to great age, even though they were written on new paper in the style of modern newspaper reporters. Their words were nearly all fake as artificial sweeteners or white chocolate, as well as most probably influenced by modern mare’s ideas of what a weak, tearful, and delicate creature of frail constitution she would be after having been imprisoned in the moon for uncounted years and thrust into a world she could not comprehend. The newspaper reporters did not understand Luna at all. Green Grass did not pretend to understand the Princess of the Night fully, but he had a bone-deep and quite sincere respect for her, borne by the heartfelt desire never to get cross-ways with any of her affectionate pranks on Celestia, or even the little things she had begun to do to Twilight Sparkle that Green Grass had patiently explained were not based in minor malice, but an acceptance of Twilight as an equal. For his own part, Green Grass was quite comfortable being a lesser being, unworthy of a genius Princess with all the resources of Equestria behind her ‘blessing’ him with one of her pranks, most of which seemed to employ food items. Until he realized just how few ‘lesser beings’ had ever sat at Celestia’s dinner table once, let alone the half-dozen experiences he had so far. He felt subjected to a mixed blessing. While the waiter was clearing away the cheese plates in preparation for bringing out what had been announced as a Crystal Berry Sorbet for dessert, the door to the dining area slammed open with a horrible crash, and Princess Luna stalked into the tiny dining room. There was a single-minded determination he had never seen in the royal alicorn as she strode to the table, picking up a loaf of bread from the middle and tearing it in half lengthwise with a subdued feral growl. Wordlessly, she upended the jam bowl over the rended bread, allowing the entire rainbow-colored contents to plop down and spreading it from loaf end to loaf end with her magic before taking a massive smeary bite out of one end. Luna’s negotiations with the griffon ambassadors must be going poorly. “Princess Luna,” announced Celestia as if nothing at all was amiss. “We have guests at our table tonight.” Luna took a second huge bite from the bread with a growl as she turned. Her gaze crossed Green Grass, resulting in a stifled grunt of recognition, but she promptly did a very satisfying double-take as she spotted the nervous griflet sitting to his side. “Bg prdn,” mumbled Luna with a short nod of her head, a small rainbow-colored drip of jam falling from the corner of her mouth on its way to the spotless dining room floor before being captured by the princess’ magic and returned to the bread. Sunny’s nervousness vanished with the sudden alertness of a small child who sees a loophole in a hated restriction. “I thought it was a rule that you weren’t supposed to talk with your mouth full?” It was a testament to just how experienced Green Grass had gotten with the reactions of Equestria’s Princesses that he managed to catch the momentary tightening of the eyes that signified more well-suppressed anger in Luna’s already angry face. After an astonishingly short period of silent chewing, Luna dabbed her lips with a napkin in a slow motion of divine grace, before sweeping down into a fully wing-spread bow of considerable depth, indicating far more respect than he ever expected her to give a small griffon who had to sit on a cushion so she could reach the table, even if that small griffon happened to call herself royalty. “We most humbly beg thy pardon, Your Highness,” screeched and chirped Luna in the most perfect Griffon that Green Grass had ever heard spoken by a pony other than by his brother Graphite⁽⁴⁾. “We were distracted by events of the Day. In addition, We did not greet thee properly upon thy arrival at Our table. We humbly request thy forgiveness for Our transgressions against protocol.” (4) Green Grass’ brother Graphite had a special talent for languages. To his eternal embarrassment, his little brother liked referring to ‘Big Brother Graphite’ as an exceptionally cunning linguist. — “Uh. That’s okay,” stammered Sunny, wide-eyed and stunned at the sudden reversal of Princess Luna’s demeanor. “Grandpa says it’s important to forgive one’s subjects when they speak out of turn.” A certain icy chill spread through the dining room as Luna straightened up, her eyes narrowed to slits. “Your ancestor’s opinions…” The air felt even colder as the Lunar Diarch trailed off and stared at the fledgeling, who cocked her head in the youthful curiosity of one who does not know the danger they faced. Before Sunny could say something disastrous, Green Grass patted her on the foreclaw and chuckled. “I’ll bet Princess Celestia could tell you all kinds of stories about when your grandfather was your age, Sunny. Embarrassing stories that he probably hasn’t told you. Isn’t that right, Princess Celestia.” “Several,” said Celestia, taking a breath and smiling at the fledgeling who had turned to look up at her with an awestruck gaze. “He really was quite a little scamp.” “Would you care to join us, Princess Luna?” asked Green Grass, getting up off his chair and pulling it back. He knew what the answer would be, having spotted Luna’s Hoofmaiden slipping out of the kitchenette, a covered tray on her back balanced across dragon-like wings as she headed for the open dining room door. Nocturne mares had almost never been seen in public before Luna’s return, but recently they had been emerging from the shadows, so to speak. As an amateur historian, the clannish bat-winged pegasi intrigued him with their origin in Luna’s downfall even as they frightened him somewhat for the same reason. To be honest, most of his limited information had come from Twilight’s stories about two of the Nocturne who had been briefly sent to Ponyville, making him very glad to have been absent from town for that month⁽⁵⁾. Now, not only was Luna’s dinner-delivering Hoofmaiden a Nocturne, but he had heard several stories about Nocturne mares joining the castle staff, including even applying for the Royal Guard, making repercussions he would be glad to observe at a safe distance. (5) These events were covered in Genealogy (or the mating habits of Nocturnes Pegasi) — “No,” said Princess Luna calmly as the tranquil mask once again slipped over her royal features, with only a distinct roiling in her ethereal mane showing her true emotions. “I shall withdraw for the evening to the Observatory Tower. Spring shedding season is making me short-tempered, and I need to be properly groomed for tomorrow. Good evening, sister. Princess. Honored guests.” With the bread floating beside her and a flick of her tail, Princess Luna trotted regally out the door, closing it behind her without the slightest noise. * * * To Green Grass’ relief, the dessert course went without complication. Unfortunately, the complication was served at the post-dessert course discussion, as a dessert to dessert. And it turned out to be something Green Grass had never thought would ever touch his lips. “You’ve never been taught how to preen?” asked Princess Celestia, with a final lick to her spoon and mournful consideration of her very empty dessert bowl. Green Grass’ attention perked up at the remark and tracked the conversation back through its salient points: Sunny losing her mother fairly close to being hatched, losing her older sister last year to a freak downdraft in the mountains, the loneliness of being a princess with a non-royal father who was busy so much of the time. The griffon fledgeling drooped and put a spoonful of the sorbet back into her nearly-empty bowl. “No, I never learned. Daddy doesn’t think it’s proper for him to preen royalty, and Aunt Gilda is always so busy. I let the servants do it, but they aren’t very good.” Celestia clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Sunny, preening isn’t something that comes naturally to earth ponies, even servants who have been around griffons their whole lives. You will need to teach them how to do a proper job, and since you don’t know how—” Princess Celestia looked around the table, her sparkling eyes looking right at Green Grass “—I’ll just have to teach you myself, and then you can teach your earth pony servants when you get home. Now where can we find an earth pony to assist?” > Ch. 4 - Preenliness Is Next To Goddessness > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Traveling Tutor and the Diplomat’s Daughter Preenliness Is Next To Goddessness Very nice beach you have here, but where is the country? — Lawrence of Saddle Arabia There was a certain familiarity to indignity that Green Grass had grown accustomed to over the last year. If true love were measured by how many red-hot coals one had walked across, or how many mountains they had climbed for their beloved, Green Grass and Twilight Sparkle both would have ranked lukewarm to somewhat tepid on the scale, having never really seen the logic in going out of their way to confront such obstacles when it was hard enough just to see each other for more than a day without some disaster popping up. However, if true love were measured in blushing and embarrassment, they most certainly would have both been ranked near the very top of the scale if not beyond the very top with Twilight turning in extra credit points for that tiny boost above 100%. Green Grass was considering preening as his extra credit points. The bay windows to the dining nook had been swung open, allowing the dinner guests and host to catch the evening spring breeze and to bask in the beauty of Canterlot spread out below while Luna’s countless⁽*⁾ stars spread out above. (*) Luna knew how many there were. But she was not telling. — Witnesses to Green Grass’ extra credit activity were few. There was Sunny, of course, who was watching the instruction with rapt attention, paying such special care to just exactly what the tutor was doing that he wished somehow that her intense attention to a lesson could be transfused into several of his young unicorn students. Then again, she was a raptor, and the ability to stare intently and concentrate was written into her very being. Friday Haystings had taken a quiet pose on the other side of the table, playing the part of the Respectful Observer, and to Green Grass’ mixed relief and disappointment, not laughing. The unicorn waiter clearing the table of the dessert dishes was intentionally oblivious to the ongoing instruction, and his only contribution was to drape a towel over the tutor’s shoulder, which actually helped when a fleck of feather would get stuck on or up his nose. On the other hoof, Princess Celestia was having entirely too much fun with her ‘teaching.’ “Do you see there, Sunny? Those two secondary feathers stuck together with their barbs intertwined? That shows your preener doesn’t have enough oil on his lips.” A small tube of cosmetics wrapped in Friday Haysting’s topaz aura floated over to Green Grass, who picked it out of the air, and read the label out loud. “Preen Balm - For the ground-bound pony when grooming that special somepony with wings. Moisturizes and lubricates even the driest lips. Not for internal use. Use only as directed. Practice safe preening. Not a contracept—” A short coughing spree later, and after careful application of the balm to the appropriate preening instrument, i.e. his lips, Green Grass returned to his appointed task, delicately separating the feathers in question on the left wing of Her Royal Highness, Diarch of Equestria, Princess of the Sun while trying to figure out just exactly how he was going to tell Twilight Sparkle about his activities this evening. No particular strategy sprung easily to mind other than brutal honesty and chocolate. Lots of chocolate. “There we go, see how he separated them first, then straightened them. You have a couple just like it on your wing. Why don’t we work on those for a little while.” While Celestia supervised the young griffon fledgeling’s preen, Green Grass sat patiently by their sides, trying not to think. He tried not to think of just where Friday Haystings had found a tube of Preen Balm, or just why he had brought one along tonight anyway. He tried not to think of just exactly what activity pegasi considered preening a preliminary for, and just exactly how much pegasus was in an alicorn princess⁽¹⁾. (1) About a third, as expected. But it was the frisky third. — It could have been worse. Without Preen Balm, a preener would have needed to use— his mind skittered away from the thought. After all, pegasi preening glands were located near their tail, and putting his lips near Her Royal Highness’ tail— his mind skittered away from that thought again, and settled on a much more welcome topic very much free of feathers: Twilight Sparkle. Whatever danger she and her friends had faced from the mysterious Crystal Empire that appeared out of nowhere in the frozen north had been resolved to Princess Celestia’s satisfaction, which was good. The six of them, plus Spike, had been to every known corner of Equestria in order to battle ancient evils or solve intricate puzzles. Now that they had explored the known world, it only made sense that the unknown sections of the world would start popping up for them. At this rate, they were going to run out of both, and start going to other worlds, and that worried him somewhat. After all, what would they do when they ran out of those? It dug at his heart to think that even though he had only known Twilight Sparkle for barely a year⁽²⁾, at any moment she could be called away, or lost forever. (2) Yes, Pinkie Pie threw them a one-year anniversary party, and he remembered to buy a gift for Twilight. A book, of course. — Ordinary ponies experienced this sense of impending loss only in a small scale, while Princess Celestia had been living the experience for longer than he could comprehend. But still, Celestia was able to extend her love and care to young, talented, up-and-coming individuals like Twilight Sparkle and Sunny, year after year, century after century, with smiles, hugs, and words of encouragement. When somepony dies or goes away for a long while, it is important to cherish their time spent here more than you grieve their departure, and critical that you live in the now instead of obsessing about the future or agonizing over past events. The absolute most important thing of all is to treasure the moment, for it will never come around again. Celestia’s words were as true as when Twilight had first passed them on to him. Although he had tried to live up to them, it had been quite difficult. Still, he had tried, and been at least marginally effective in his attempt, and that was progress. “Yes, he has quite talented lips, according to my faithful student’s reports. Greenie, you’re about out of feathers on that wing. Would you like to work on the other one?” Green Grass looked up from the feathers in his teeth at the very wingtip of Princess Celestia’s left wing, taking a moment to return to the real world before daring to meet the princess’ amused gaze. “Um. Actually, Your Highness, I seem to be nearly out of Preen Balm.” He showed the tube to Celestia, and after Friday indicated his lack of any more surprise supplies, he tucked it into his suit pocket and tried to compose his face. Princess Celestia sighed with a gentle shake of her head, managing to somehow indicate a greater comfort with her left wing when she tucked them up against her flanks. Fortunately for Green Grass’ frayed nerves, she displayed no indication she desired him to use a more original and somewhat Royal source of preening oil to finish the task on her right wing. “I have a little something extra planned for my guests tonight,” announced the Princess, settling back into her cushions with her enigmatic smile larger than usual. “In the spirit of the educational experiences you three have experienced tonight, I have prepared a nighttime chariot flight around the castle with some of my most trusted guards. But first, I wanted to see what all of you had learned this day. Sunny?” “Um.” The griffon fledgeling glanced out the dark window and all around the room before muttering, “Nothing, really. Oh! Other than the preening.” “Nothing at all?” Celestia’s warm gaze never cooled a degree as she levitated out a sign from under the table. All attendees must wear a hat. “Oh, that!” The little griflet grinned. “All those overdressed ponies who go into court can be told to do the dumbest things, and they will.” “How about this one?” Celestia levitated out another sign. Dry paint “Ponies are dumb, and have to check what you tell them, even if it’s right.” Please wipe hooves before entering Caution: Magical friction zone. Lift hooves when walking to avoid electrical shock “Ponies do whatever they’re told.” Stallions bathroom closed, use bathroom on next floor up “Ooh, that was neat! We put one of those on each floor of the tower except the top one. There was a line down the staircase almost a floor long.” Entry forms for the Shiniest Armor in the Castle Award must be submitted to Captain Shining Armor’s office by 5 P.M. this evening. Sunny squinched up her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t understand that one. But your guards looked really, really shiny today.” All cafeteria spoons must be returned to the kitchen this evening. No exceptions. “I don’t remember that one.” Celestia flipped the sign over and read it with a chuckle, tossing it on top of the pile she had been collecting. “Whoops, that’s an old one. Greenie, since you have been in Ponyville several times over the last few years. Did Mister and Missus Cake ever tell you how they met?” Green Grass blinked several times before he could pull his attention away from the stack of signs, trying to think just exactly how many the three of them had placed in the castle over the day and which ones were missing from the display. “Not in so many words, Your Highness. I understand they both used to work in the Canterlot castle kitchens⁽³⁾ before their move.” (3) To be told in the upcoming story, “The Cakes and the Spoon.” — “Quite correct.” Celestia nodded encouragement. “And I presume since that sign reminded you of them, that one of them posted it?” “Also correct. And?” After a very long pause, Princess Celestia sighed. “How many spoons do you think the kitchens lose every year to various employees looking for a spoon to stir their tea or eat their lunch?” “Quite a few, I would suppose. I have a few from school in my wagon. Oh. I see.” Second Assistant to the Deputy Director for Mid-Equestrian Agricultural Production Stuffy Wickers pawed through his desk, down past layers of nearly-fossilized paperwork to extract yet another teaspoon from the massive oak monstrosity he had inherited from some other bureaucrat twenty years ago, and from his predecessor forty-five years back, and so on, and so forth. A dozen silver utensils occupied the cafeteria tray that he intended on taking back to the kitchens when he was done retrieving spoons, but so far he had only dug down as far as the century ring on the desk’s paperwork gauge, with several rings left to go. All around him, in countless cubicles throughout the castle, fellow civil servants just like him in similar archeological expeditions dug out their own long-forgotten spoons from centuries worth of accumulated bureaucratic strata, while underlings made emergency trips home to retrieve family silverware drawers silently boosted by work-derived additions. And throughout the entirety of Equestria, letters were exchanged, directives were acted upon, and uncounted tons of long-forgotten flatware began the journey back to their birthplace, where an unsuspecting earth pony had triggered it all by posting a single sign on the lunchroom bulletin board. Princess Celestia smiled and looked down at the curious fledgeling. “Thousands of spoons are lost from the castle every year. Multiply that by how many centuries the castle has been here, bring them all back and store them in one dining room with weak floorboards, and...” “Ah.” Green Grass nodded. “The rebuilding of the Quinary Dining Room. I understood it was remodeled because of the weak floors.” “As well as seven floors beneath it. It was easier to turn the final resting place of the spoons into a kitchen silverware warehouse than to move them after the avalanche. So…” The Princess of the Sun gazed deeply into his eyes and gave a slow nod. “What lessons do you think Sunny learned under your tutelage, since I seemed to be such a loss as a teacher today.” Green Grass forced his eyes away from Celestia, settling for focusing on his little student, who returned his look with the somewhat baffled stare of the young. “I believe the princess has learned much more from you than she admits. For example. Sunny, did you think we were going to get away with planting signs all over the castle?” “Yes, of course.” She blinked as realization set in. “Didn’t you?” “Well, no. But I didn’t think it would go this far up. So I learned a lesson too. No matter how smart you think you are, there’s always somepony smarter.” ...named Celestia, or Luna, or Cadence, or Twilight... “And I notice how you reacted when the ponies obeyed the signs, no matter how silly. That shows that even though we are the same in so many ways, like preening, and ice cream, and pranks, griffons and ponies are quite different in other ways. Ponies obey rules because they trust those who make the rules, and they have a say in how those rules are set up.” Green Grass slowed to a halt and tried not to look at Celestia, before continuing at a much slower pace. “That is why what I did with the signs was wrong, even if it was funny. And educational. Ponies trust each other, and putting up false signs eats away at the basis of that trust, and the whole basis of our laws.” Sunny looked puzzled. “Signs aren’t laws.” “If Princess Celestia makes a law that most of the ponies think is wrong, they talk to their representatives, who bring their complaints to her. The Princess is very smart, and knows that if she makes many tiny laws and rules, or even just signs, that nopony likes and everypony ignores, they will lose trust in her and start to ignore all of her rules.” Sunny snorted with a wave of one wing. “That’s stupid. Grandpa makes rules nogriffon likes, and if they don’t obey him, he whomps ‘em.” Green Grass nodded, his lips compressing to a thin line. “Yes, and they leave the aerie afterwards, right?” “If they can.” Sunny fidgeted and looked out the window at the starlit Canterlot cityscape. “Sometimes he whomps ‘em pretty hard.” “The Misty Mountains Aerie had well over a thousand adult griffons back two hundred years ago when the last battle was fought between Equestria and that part of the Griffon Empire. Now there are only about a hundred. By the time you become queen, you may only have a few dozen subjects.” “Yeah. I suppose.” The little griffon suddenly perked up. “But my new crystal city will have hundreds of earth ponies in it. When I’m Queen, griffons will flock to my glorious Queendom, and the aerie will grow back to its proper size again.” “That will be a subject for another day,” said Princess Celestia, rising from her chair. “For now, let me show you something my sister loaned to me. Behold.” A light breeze stirred the curtains around the bay window that looked out into the city, and a dark Royal Guard chariot pulled by two of the largest Nocturne guards Green Grass had ever seen drifted down to rest on the balcony. He could not help but notice the sheer glossy shine on their armor that reflected the stars above with mirror-like perfection, as well as the near-violet glow about the ornate chariot that must have signified dozens of hoof-rubbed coats of wax. Even their bat-like wings gleamed with oils in the moonlight as brightly as their oval golden eyes, although Green Grass could swear there was just a tiny bit of subdued animosity in their gaze for him, and a sudden urge to dig into his own pocketbook for a real ‘Shiniest Armor’ trophy crept up his spine. In order to match the sign and reduce interservice rivalries, perhaps two trophies, Day and Night would be best. “Lord Green Grass, I thought due to your flight vertigo issues, it would be best if we take after-dinner tea out on the balcony while my other guests enjoy a nighttime flight around the castle. But first, I have one last sign that needs attention.” Princess Celestia gestured to the wall next to the kitchenette, and although Green Grass was quite certain there was no sign there before, there certainly was one there now. All guests must wash their own dishes The kitchenette was quite empty of servants, but a respectful number of dirty dishes were carefully arranged in the sink, awaiting their proper attention and eventual return to their respective china and silverware hutch. “I call wash!” shouted Sunny, flapping her wings in excitement as she pulled a small stool over to the sink. “I love the bubbles!” Friday Haystings moved up to help, adding, “I have a most effective drying spell that should be quite efficacious upon porcelain, sir.” “I guess I’m rinsing then,” said Green Grass shrugging into an apron and giving silent thanks that this was going to be the least embarrassing part of the evening’s entertainment. > Ch. 5 - Proper Permission Protocol > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Traveling Tutor and the Diplomat’s Daughter Proper Permission Protocol Always be decisive. — Ethelred the Unready After Friday Haystings and Princess Sunny had boarded the Night Guard chariot and been whisked away into Canterlot’s spring night, Green Grass began to feel just a tiny bit abandoned. It was not as if he had been using Sunny as a shield against the attention of Princess Celestia. Well, maybe a little. The comfortable ease with which Princess Celestia unfolded the alicorn-sized table as well as placed two chairs on the balcony showed her experience at the task, and it took extremely little effort for Green Grass to imagine the second powerful Diarch of Equestria sitting most evenings where his unworthy green bottom now rested. There were even more than a few indigo-colored hairs on the overly-large chair cushion, causing Green Grass’ far too active mind to think unwelcome thoughts of just who the Princesses used for the intimate act of combing out their own shedding hair. Instead, he took a deep breath of the fresh spring air that drifted upwards from the dark castle grounds below, bringing with it the welcome scents of spring, night blooming flowers in the royal gardens, the crisp tang of mountain thunderstorms, and only the occasional floating hair from the ponies’ bi-annual shedding. Many very important ponies would have killed to have this kind of access to Princess Celestia; Green Grass would have committed assault, or at least attempted assault in order to leave. Every other time he had talked with the gentle Princess of the Sun, it felt as if his head had been opened up and all of the furniture inside rearranged. The ponies she dealt with every day must either develop nerves of cabled steel, or leave the castle in a state of incoherence every night. There were always stories of important ponies brought to nervous collapse and alcoholism within the Canterlot newspapers, but his examination of the articles seemed to indicate a preponderance of them were opposed to Celestia, where her supporters and staff seemed to virtually vanish into the background like stars against the sun. Luna was an entirely different matter. While he had been visited several times in dreams with a very informal and sometimes playful manner, his physical encounters with the Princess of the Night had been brief, cordial, and formal as the Winterfall Dance, during which he and Twilight had been invited, or commanded depending on the exact interpretation of Luna’s words, to participate. They had attended reluctantly, and even danced in a slow fashion that was nearly impossible to mess up and nowhere near the tempo at which Twilight’s dance moves became indistinguishable from a seizure. It seemed Luna had been under greater pressure than usual at the event, as if every motion she made was being analyzed and judged by every attendee, even the musicians. They had tried to help, even to the extent of both Twilight and Green Grass requesting a dance from the reclusive princess, which helped somewhat, although not quite as expected. Still, he had to admit, they had drawn some of that unwanted attention away from Luna, and she had actually laughed twice at their ‘dancing.’ It made her seem less lonely for just a few minutes, which made the resulting humiliation and the newspaper photos much easier to bear. He continued to stare out into the night, unable to watch as Celestia brought out the elegantly simple tea service and placed the kettle on the tiny fire to warm. He was an intruder into her sacred moment, a thief stealing away her time which would be much better spent consoling Luna from her miserable day. As the clanking and rattling of priceless metal and ceramic continued, it did not take his eyes to recognize just exactly what step the Princess had reached in her timeless ritual of tea. Twilight had attempted in her own way to teach him the deep meaning and symbolism of each step, from the water, to the fire, to the tea, to the serving, but they had never really soaked into his thick head. Now the lessons she had attempted to teach him were becoming painfully obvious in the presence of her teacher. At least for tonight, it was the sounds that were the key. As tense as he was, the air seemed to relax at the gentle ringing of tableware and the click of metal against porcelain, the gentle rumbling of the kettle, the tiny splashing noise as Celestia added steaming water to warm the teapot, and put the kettle back on the flame. It was very much an earth pony ritual, for there was no magic in the way the Princess had taught Twilight to make tea, no floating teakettles or mystic leaves. Just the touch, and the feel, and the smell, and the taste of the process, never the same taste twice, but the experience was always perfect. Imperfections were what made the experience special. If the tea were exactly the same every time, it would become bland and dull. The Royal Guard seemed identical on the surface, but each one of them was an individual pony, with strengths and weaknesses unique to themselves. Together they were far stronger for it. Was it foolish for him to agonize about how he would never be perfect enough for Twilight, when their differences and similarities meshed so well? He had once preferred his tea as dark as coffee and nearly sludge-like with sugar, but as in many things, Twilight had changed him. Tea was change, ever fluid, ever different, not a just delivery system for caffeine and sugar like chocolate or coffee. Tea was merely the aftereffect of a complicated process of learning. Once the steeping and the pouring and the brewing were complete, the tea was drunk to signify completion. To end the lesson by preserving what had been learned. Celestia normally talked while preparing the tea, or at least every time Twilight Sparkle had brought him along for an evening meeting. Sometimes their soft voices would caress the air for only a few minutes, once for blissful hours. He had sat spellbound at their sides with nothing but the voices of ruler and student mixing in with the gentle clinks and rattles. Twilight had nearly floated out into the evening walk afterwards, and while he had experienced a floating sensation too, it was much more of a physical nature. Tonight, Celestia was silent, but he doubted it was because of the amount of talking with Sunny she had done this evening. It was far more likely because he was supposed to be learning something from the relative silence. The scent of a pekoe of some sort drifted by his nose as he continued to stare out into the starlit city, and he could hear the spoon crunch into the dry, leafy tea. One. Two. Three. Twilight had always put three spoons of tea in to steep no matter how many cups needed filled, and somehow it always wound up just perfect. Just like her. How many spoons had Celestia worn out in her life, for the mere plebeian task of scooping tea? He knew the answer without asking. Sometimes she would replace a spoon, or a cup, or a pot, but it was still the same tea set even though there was not a single part of it still intact from when she first used it to make tea for her sister. For how many years had she sat out on this balcony, alone, staring out at the night and the moon hanging above? Twilight had told him of her times spent in this room, how Celestia would converse with her late into the night, looking out on the moonlit city just like he was now. For centuries, Celestia had been separated from Luna. She had been so very much alone until her faithful student had come into her life and done the impossible, saving her sister and returning them to each other’s side. Now they deserved to be together every night and day, not separated by stressful tasks of state and inconsiderate green ponies. But then again, he was separated from Twilight this evening, so perhaps that was the lesson. The gurgling of the kettle as Celestia filled the teapot to steep seemed loud in the relative silence. Between Twilight and Spike, there was almost never true silence in the library kitchen. How much then would he miss the sound of her voice if she were to leave forever, and he would be left all alone like Celestia, making tea in the darkness and staring at where she had gone, never able to touch her again. If the princess commanded her student to leave him and never look back, he would once again be alone in the world. There was no doubt in his mind that Twilight would obey her teacher and her princess no matter the loss. Proper tea could not be formed from cold water and leaves, it took the heat of stress to bring out the flavors locked within. Perhaps that was what the princess saw in him. Somepony to bring out the best in her student, a subtle flavor to add to her perfect blend to make it more perfect. Celestia did seem to enjoy his presence, and his close proximity of Twilight had brought vast changes to his life, although it only seemed to make her more perfect. There was a metallic click and drip from the strainer being lifted from the teapot, separating the tea from the used-up tea leaves on their journey to be thrown into the trash. He was not simply a tea leaf to the immortal princess, to be used up and discarded to help Twilight turn into what the princess desired, was he? Or worse, had Celestia some plan in mind for him? He was a faithful subject to his princesses, a dutiful son to his father, and hopefully someday a loyal husband. Three directions to be torn, four if their discussions about foals were ever to come to fruition. The faint repeated click of a teakettle against teacup roused him from his musings, and when he reached for the cup without looking, it was precisely where expected. He tasted, deeply resenting his college years spent learning the fine differences in alcoholic beverages. It was tea. Just tea. With a few more years experience, he should be able to differentiate what kind it was, or where it had originated, but to his unsophisticated palate, it was still just tea, although there was a faint undertaste he recognized. Perhaps chives. He took a second sip with no more luck recognizing the subtle flavor and continued to watch the cityscape. The delighted shrieks of the young griffon could be heard a long distance in the night air as the Night Guards used their natural vision advantage to make passes near the moonlit towers and spires just as closely as their day counterparts could have in broad daylight. Or perhaps a little closer. It was an educational experience Green Grass was thankfully not participating in, but well worthy of a comment to break the horrible quiet that had broken out once the tea had been served. “And thus did the griffon princess also learn that the Night Guard ponies can see perfectly well in the dark where griffons can not, leading the young princess to a greater knowledge of the dangers of unwarranted military expeditions when she grows up.” As the faint shrieks of joy faded away into the distance, Green Grass sighed and took another sip of his tea. The mysterious flavor could be chrysanthemum, perhaps, if the princess was feeling in a particularly fey mood. “Yes, the colts do love to show off their talents. I truly enjoy watching ponies reach their full potential, don’t you, Lord Green Grass?” A proper sip of tea included a small slurping noise to draw air across the tea, both cooling it and aspirating air through the liquid to draw out the delicate flavors. The loud uncouth slurp from Her Royal Highness’ presence at his side could only have been calculated to distract him from his quiet contemplation of the starlit horizon and draw him out of his introspective sulk. Instead, he continued to stare out into the moonlit night with a quiet response. “Yes, Professor Celestia.” The princess’ chuckle was subdued, a soft rolling noise beside him in the dark evening air. “We get so little time to just talk, Lord Green Grass. Time is a precious commodity, it can only be spent once, or it is wasted away and gone like the evening breeze. You have not been wasting your time with my faithful student, have you?” “No,” he replied almost by reflex. “We’ve been… learning things.” He spared a quick glance out of the side of his eye at Princess Celestia, who continued to gaze out over her city beside him, a noble ruler looking over her precious ponies with grace and beauty instead of his own green gargoyle imitation. An additional sip of tea, with slurp, calmed his nerves enough to ask, “This isn’t a test, is it?” “Of course it is.” The faint click of a teacup being set down sounded from his side while Green Grass became frozen, staring out into the dark night. “No need for parchment and quills, a verbal exam should be fine.” There was a sound of tea gently being stirred with the quiet clink of a single cube of sugar before she continued. “What have you learned with my faithful student?” ~-~-*~*~*-~-~ Princess Luna galloped happily down the humid castle corridor, grabbing Green Grass and Twilight under a foreleg each and swinging them around. She smelled damply of fresh mountain streams and sunshine, a bubbly mix that seemed to perk right out of her coat and overwhelm the scent of damp feathers. “Twilight! Greenie! I hath made the most amazing discovery. Thou knowest how to swim, correct?” Green Grass grinned sheepishly at the exuberant alicorn, thinking of his recent trips to the Royal Baths with Twilight Sparkle and his own embarrassing tendency to sink as they enjoyed a few days together during summer vacation. “Yes, Twilight can swim quite well. And nearly every earth pony can swim. You could say I am an exceptional swimmer.” “Wonderful!” Azure magic coiled around the three of them and they vanished from the corridor, appearing on a small sliver of rock protruding from one of Canterlot’s many roaring icy waterfalls. Dozens of yards below, the roaring water smashed into a frosty pool of frigid death, only for Green Grass, the dozens of yards was rapidly turning into tens of yards and eventually into none at all. “Oopsie!” said Luna, looking down at the plummeting earth stallion. “I think I bumped your coltfriend, Twilight Sparkle.” “He can’t swim!” screamed Twilight, her volume only partially in an attempt to be heard over the roaring waterfall. “He sinks like a rock! He’s the exception to the rule!” “He has very good diving form,” said Luna, nonplussed. “Ah, and he is doing an excellent dog-paddle for one who can’t swim.” “Greenie!” screamed Twilight at the very edge of the sliver of rock, looking down into the roiling water. “We’ve got to do something! Somepony needs to— Aiiiieeeeeee!!” Princess Luna looked down into the foaming frigid pool and clapped with excitement. “Twilight Sparkle! That was a most excellent belly-flop! Thou didst make an impressive wave.” ~-~-*~*~*-~-~ “I learned how to swim. I learned to think very carefully when your sister asks a question, and to phrase my answer clearly. I learned there are more hazardous things than to be turned into a cactus or other plant by a young unicorn’s prepubescent magic Flare…” ~-~-*~*~*-~-~ Rarity looked around her boutique and at the single gardenia sitting morosely on the windowsill before calling out to the carriage that would carry the seven of them to the Grand Galloping Gala. “Twilight, are you sure you don’t want to bring Green Grass?” “I told you already, Rarity,” sighed Twilight with a mournful look of her own. “He’s going to be stuck that way for another day or two until he blooms, which should break him out of Sweetie Belle’s accidental transformation spell. The safest thing we can do is to just leave him alone.” “He just looks so sad there on the shelf. Are you sure he doesn’t need re-potting before we go, or maybe some fertilizer?” As the carriage pulled away, three curious fillies emerged from the shadows of the boutique, advancing on the plant rather cautiously. “I feel really bad about doing that to you during our lesson, Mister Green Grass,” said Sweetie Belle. “But I promise, we’ll make it up to you.” A cry rang out through the boutique that made the gardenia shudder and drop a few leaves. “Cutie Mark Crusader Plant Sitters!” ~-~-*~*~*-~-~ “…and both of us learned some things about house maintenance…” ~-~-*~*~*-~-~ The top of the ladder propped up against the library tree was secured correctly, leaning at the correct angle, and the occupant of the ladder had even taken great care not to stand above the rung labeled ‘Not a step.’ After all, earth ponies belonged in firm contact with their element, and carrying that much potential energy made Green Grass more than nervous while he prodded the top of the plugged downspout with a long stick held tightly in his jaws. The one downside of living inside a tree was during the fall, when every single downspout plugged themselves solid with leaves and twigs. With careful application of earth pony strategy, and an enormous amount of poking with a stick, Green Grass had managed to unplug every downspout on the library in preparation for going inside and taking a long afternoon shower. Well, almost every downspout. “Greenie?” called out a voice from far, far below. “Do you need me to do anything? I’ve got an unplugging spell.” “Mumph!” growled the tutor, gripping the poking stick firmly in his jaws and jabbing at the stubborn plug. “Mummph mugmulp mumamplaf!” “Okay! Here goes.” A faint rumbling began to build in the plugged downspout as the tutor regarded his nemesis with growing horror. He dropped the stick to shout at Twilight, but it was far too late for him, and he probably should not have opened his mouth. -*Whoosh*- The pony who descended the ladder was not green as Green Grass. In fact, he could have more accurately been called Brown Leaves and Twigs. Or even Soggy Mulch. Spitting out a twig, he regarded his giggling marefriend with painful solumnity, proclaiming with a sweep of one dripping hoof, “M’lady, your castle is now clear.” ~-~-*~*~*-~-~ “…as well as the importance of keeping certain doors locked…” ~-~-*~*~*-~-~ In almost perfect silence, Green Grass slipped out of bed and down the stairs in the direction of the library bathroom. Many nights of surreptitious sneaking in his college years helped his quiet tread, but the snores emerging from Twilight and Spike’s respective beds revealed his wasted effort. He could have tap-danced downstairs to the bathroom and they would have slept through it. The gloom of a cloudy night did not help as the young stallion fumbled around on the main floor, attempting to find the familiar bathroom in the stygian darkness. After his fumbling finally found the door in question, he swung it open and froze in instinctive terror when his hoof touched another as he turned on the light. The mare was almost a perfect duplicate of the pony he saw in the mirror every morning, except for a rumpled orange bow on top of her head instead of his familiar rumpled hat, and her color was more the green of a healthy gardenia than ordinary grass. Fear turned to understanding, and then to exasperation as they both turned around and bellowed up the stairs to their respective forgetful magical mates. “Dear! You left the door to the interdimensional portal unlocked again!” After a mumbled apology, they each excused themselves and stumbled on their way to their correct dimension’s bathroom with Green Grass musing silently to himself about his counterpart. I really have lost weight around the flanks. Looks good on me. No wonder Dusk— Oh, stars! I’m attracted to myself! ~-~-*~*~*-~-~ “…while we both learned to always take a guide when exploring strange, new places…” ~-~-*~*~*-~-~ The door in the Canterlot castle slammed open only long enough for Twilight Sparkle and Green Grass to dash out into the corridor before slamming it back shut and leaning against it, panting for breath. Twilight regained the ability to speak first, and managed to put a sarcastic tone into her panting gasps. “It’s just a mirror. Right. Didn’t I tell you about mirrors?” Green Grass grimaced while dragging a nearby bench over to prop up against the closed door. “You said 'It’s never just a mirror, it’s either an evil device that sucks in souls, or shows you scenes of horrible possible futures, or a portal to a twisted alternate universe, or turns whoever looks into it into seaponies, or it creates unspeakable evil duplicates.’ You didn’t say anything about this particular mirror. Besides, don’t you have a mirror in your bedroom?” “Yes,” snapped Twilight with a wince as she magically fortified the door. “Luna has started to use it as a way to talk to me in dreams, and to scare the horseapples out of me. She calls it ‘Training.’ I call it… something else.” ~-~-*~*~*-~-~ “…so I would say modestly that I’ve learned more in one year’s worth of odd weekends and rare weekly visits with your student than I did in all my years of college.” “Funny you should put it that way.” There was a clink of teacup against saucer and the rustle of paper, which Green Grass tried his best to ignore while continuing to look out into the glittering city. “Prince Blueblood, of all ponies, has been sniffing around your old school records. Is there anything you would like to confess to your teacher about your academic career before he blunders into it?” “No. Should there be?” He managed to put a bit of innocence into his answer, even as sweat began to break out under his suit coat. “I took the liberty of looking over some of your academic records myself. Quite impressive.” The drops of sweat became a thin stream, and he had to fight to keep his eyes focused on the city spread out below. “Not so much. Just low A’s and B’s and one D within my educational major.” “But your fraternity went from a C average to A’s during your tenure at school. Your academic record would have placed you firmly in their top tier during your last years, if not for the abrupt and intense interest of your peers in their scholastic achievements.” Don’t look at her. She will be able to tell you’re lying if you look at her. Ponyfeathers, she probably knows that already. “My special talent is teaching unicorns, Your Highness.” There was a faint noise that might have possibly been a Royal Giggle. “Yes. My sister and I have found you most educational.” “As I have you,” said Green Grass, leaving much unsaid. I’ve learned that quite a few Royal Guard retire to the country to start up physical fitness gyms, self-defense classes, or farms that are tragically short on physical labor, all of which have no problem asking for help from a certain slightly-overweight tutor when he’s in town. I’ve learned that there are more retired Canterlot music teachers, etiquette teachers, and debate teachers per capita in small rural towns than I had ever imagined, and they all seem to know just where I am on my studies as they ‘volunteer’ to teach me their specialties. Which is not bad, I suppose, considering just who I’m attempting to romance. “I understand congratulations are in order.” Celestia’s calm voice put an ice-cold bolt of shock of concern for Twilight Sparkle up his spine, and his first thought was to count weeks back to their last intimate moments together. It was a surprisingly large number. Celestia’s voice continued, “Ninth place in Milo City’s Running of the Leaves this year is quite good. I understand your students convinced you to compete.” “Yes, Your Highness,” replied Green Grass in pure unthinking relief. “Regrettable that medals were only given out for the top eight places.” A faint unclenching of nervous muscles continued as Green Grass replied, “Yes, Your Highness.” “Much like your schoolwork.” “Yes, Your— urk!” “Strange how you always were only one point or two away from awards that would have properly recognized your scholastic achievement while working on your education degree.” “Yes, Your Highness?” intoned Green Grass automatically, trying not to eye the dining room door as an emergency escape route. “But your scores before you switched majors to education.” Celestia clucked her tongue and rustled some papers out of his line of sight. “Shocking.” The rustling continued, the sounds of loose papers being stuck back into a folder and put away into some container where they might hopefully never emerge into night or day. It seemed a much better idea to continue to stare out into the night and not have to meet those ancient violet eyes who seemed to be able to see into the darkest and dustiest corner of his mind, although he began to feel somewhat guilty at treating Twilight Sparkle’s teacher in this fashion. He would never have turned away from Twilight, so he ever so slowly turned to face a smiling Princess Celestia and her sparkling eyes. “You are quite the little manipulator, aren’t you, Lord Green Grass?” There were times when it was best to remain silent. It was another thing Green Grass had been learning, although slowly, but he could not help but utter a quiet and curious, “Hmm?” As the distant chariot flew around a tower, Princess Celestia cleared her throat and began to quietly sing the refrain from ‘Annie.’ ♫ I think you’re going to like it here ♫ “Oh, no.” Green Grass glanced out the balcony, trying to calculate just how far off the ground the private dining room was, and if he could make it off the ledge, slide down one of the banners, and make his escape into the Royal Gardens before Celestia snagged him with her magic. “No musical numbers.” “But you sang such a delightful Sancho in your college production of ‘Don Rocinante.’ I was not able to be in the audience, but I was close enough to listen to you sing in rehearsals.” “Oh, no. No way.” She can’t actually make you sing. Be strong. Will of steel. “And I manage to attend the Young Canterlot Childrens Theatre every year. Your assistance with their production of ‘Annie’ back in your Sophomore years was magnificent. I’ve never heard the young ones sing so well in all the years I’ve attended.” “No. I’m not— really? They were that good?” So much for steel will. “If you expect to be with Twilight for long, you’re going to get into a musical number eventually. I can guarantee it.” “You’ll talk to Pinkie Pie if I don’t agree, right?” Celestia did not have to say a word. She just remained smiling while a quartet of identically-dressed female nocturnal pegasi fluttered down and perched inside the balcony rail, carefully arranging their sheet music and testing their voices quietly with a pitch pipe. “Key of D please, ladies. It matches my grades, I suppose.” After standing up to get a proper amount of air into his diaphragm, Green Grass began to reluctantly sing⁽*⁾. ♫ I was prepared to take each test, I studied hard like all the rest But every time it went like spit, I just wasn’t prepared for it. Engineering should have been a breeze, the prerequisites I passed with ease But every time a quiz I took, it seemed I had not seen the book!♫ ♫ I could not pass, but only fail, my grades were blown ♫ (The Nocturne mares chorused, “♫ His grades were blown ♫”) ♫ My parents cried, my teachers wept, my fate unknown ♫ (♫ His fate unknown ♫) (*) The Failure Song, words by G. Grass, tune by Daniel Ingram “Wait a moment,” interrupted Princess Celestia. “That’s all very nice, but it’s the wrong key for your vocal range. We wouldn’t want you to sprain a vocal cord. Why don’t you pep it up a little with a different tune in B Major. After all...” Celestia chimed, “♫ I see a lot more than you say! ♫ “ “Very well, Your Highness.” Green Grass arranged himself, taking a sip of tea to soothe his throat and calm his nerves before launching into a different tune⁽¹⁾. ♫ I could have been a lawyer, a fine aristocrat But my poor Law grades in college kept me far away from that I tried so hard to please them, as anyone could see It had to be my destiny, for it’s what my mom and dad were telling me ♫ ♫ Calculus was too hard, and so was Equish Lit For my scores they weren’t improving, they all just looked like spit Chem and Engineering, they all confused me so It had to be my destiny, or my mom and dad would not have made me go ♫ ♫ My frat brothers were worried, so they showed me what to drink but despite their vast experience, it did not help me to think From kegs to brandy bottles, a booze-soaked school degree It was specific density, for my alcoholic friends said it to me ♫ ♫ The dean, he met my parents and they had a few sharp words In their esteemed opinion, my school was for the birds A compromise they settled, a teacher I would be ABC’s and 123’s, were what my GPA was telling me ♫ ♫ The school was very happy, for my scores they did improve and my parents were relieved that I had seemed to find my groove In the frat house, we did party, mares were packed in hoove to hoove ♫ ♫ My college fees — Would useful be ♫ (♫ his college fees) — (would useful be ♫) ♫ For it’s what my GPA, its what my GPA, yes it’s what my GPA was telling me. ♫ (♫ it’s what my GPA, it’s what my GPA, yes it’s what my GPA was telling me ) (1) The Lament of the Educational Major, words by G. Grass, tune by Daniel Ingram again. “Excellent!” Celestia applauded vigorously, as did the choir before fluttering back up and out of sight. “I would ask for an encore performance, but I think we’re treading rather firmly on a copyright here.” “More than one, Your Highness.” Green Grass opened his mouth, paused, and looked out the window again. It took until he had sat back down and chased down a chocolate biscuit with a rather long drink of tea before he could continue. “Were those mail service uniforms worn by the choir?” “Yes, a rather brilliant idea by my sister. She plans on revamping the postal service.” “It seems to work fairly well now, Your Highness. I post a letter in Hoofington, and a few days later Ditzy delivers it to some random citizen of Ponyville, who brings it to Twilight when they have a chance.” Celestia gave a rather embarrassed cough. “Well, with the system Luna is proposing, that letter you post in Hoofington would be flown that evening to a central sorting area, and pre-dawn flown back out to the destination, where I suppose Ditzy would deliver it as normal. She’s proposed Ponyville as a ‘hub’ for the project and hired nearly a dozen of her nocturnal pegasi for the test.” “All mares, I presume?” The clannish Nocturne were almost never seen during the day, and kept their mares at home doing ‘Traditional’ labors, such as caring for the foals and managing the family finances, some of which had grown to astonishingly large sums. Luna had rather firmly made her opinion known about what she considered a waste of talent, and had been taking the subtle approach to solving what she saw as a problem. “Yes, of course.” For a moment, Green Grass was tempted to ask just how the Nocturne families had reacted to having their sheltered mares actually working outside the traditional home, before remembering the deity-like reverence they had for Princess Luna. They would not object to just a few of their precious mares working in the outside world, if it were at the direction of their precious Princess of the Moon. And when the postal program expanded to a few more cities where the far-flung Nocturne had clans, a few more of them would be hired, and a few more, until— “A side-effect of her program will be a mail-wagon flying through Ponyville every morning and evening on its way to and from surrounding communities. When the program is officially announced, she will have need of an independent evaluator to ride along and report on the effectiveness of the program. Somepony to write reports, who preferably resides in Ponyville, and has a need to visit surrounding communities on a daily basis. Like a certain educational specialist in young unicorn magic.” “Oh.” Green Grass blinked and turned his gaze from the darkened city of Canterlot to the moonlit valley where Ponyville glittered in the distance. No more spending weeks away from Twilight in distant rural villages in order to be able to tutor young unicorns in their newfound magical talents. He would be able to catch a ride from the Ponyville library to his far-flung teaching locations at breakfast, have his classes, and be back in the library at dark. No more finding out what dangerous activities Twilight and her friends had been up to by way of letters delivered weeks after the events were long over. Far fewer long, cold nights apart. The princess’ smooth voice continued, “Provided you can get your flight vertigo issues under control, that is.” “I believe with experience my issues may be controllable,” he replied almost automatically, while thinking of just where he was going to be leaving his alarm clock and toothbrush on a permanent basis. Of course, there was a step that needed to be accomplished before he could feel comfortable with a permanent arrangement of this sort. And if he was thinking it, he was quite certain both Celestia and Luna had thought the exact same thought, which warranted at least a response from the tutor. “And you called me a manipulator. Thank you, and thank Princess Luna for me too, please.” Celestia merely smiled, tipping the teapot to refresh his tea before asking a question. “You’re quite welcome. Was there something else you wished to ask me?” The tutor sipped his warmed tea and looked out into the dark city before sitting his porcelain cup back down on the saucer. A lightness lifted his heart in a sensation of floating, amplified by the sight of the city lights below. There was a long metaphorical drop at his hooves in more ways than one, but he had never felt more ready to step forward. “Well. There is something I’ve been meaning to ask you if I should ask you. Maybe I should ask before asking…” He paused at Celestia’s introspective look, and continued rapidly. “I better just ask, or I’ll ask myself into a circle and wind up in another song. Before I ask Twilight for her hoof in marriage, should I ask your permission first? After all, she is your student, and she views you as almost a second mother except for…” Celestia giggled and put one hoof casually on Green Grass’ shoulder to slow him down. It took a few moments for him to run to the end of his thought before he picked his teacup back up and took another drink, accidentally spilling some tea down his chin in his haste. Gracefully picking her own teacup up in her magic, Celestia took a sip before replying. “Of course you don’t need to ask my permission, silly. Asking your sovereign for permission to wed has been out of fashion for decades.” “Oh. Whew.” After a moment’s reflection on just what the blink of an eye ‘decades’ was to the immortal princess, Green Grass dropped to his knees with a thump and bowed his head. “Princess Celestia, may I have your permission to wed your student, Twilight Sparkle?” He could not see the reaction of the princess to his request, but he could hear the faint click of a teacup being set down and what may have just possibly been the faintest sniff of an incipient tear. When she spoke again, her voice was as solemn and somber as if she were speaking to an assembly of nobles about the future of Equestria. “Have you the resources to take care of your bride in the fashion to which she deserves?” “Yes, Your Highness.” “ And do you truly love this mare with every fibre of your being, willing to pledge your loyalty to her until death separates you?” Now it was Green Grass’ turn to stifle a tear. “Yes, Your Highness.” “And do you promise to let me tell Luna first, so I can see the expression on her face?” The sniff that he had been suppressing turned into a snort. “Yes, Your Highness. I wouldn’t dream of anything else.” “May We see the ring?” Any cowpony of the wild west would have been envious of the speed of Green Grass’ draw, producing the thin ring case to Celestia for her intense inspection. “Somewhat small for a diamond.” “A perfect cut of a flawless gem, just like Twilight. Although…” Green Grass paused, a horrible idea rising in his mind. “Unless I’m not the first to wish for her hoof in marriage.” “Why, whoever could possibly compete with you?” Green Grass had to look away while his stomach churned, trying to resist asking about a long-present thread of anxiety which surfaced everytime he listened to Twilight Sparkle talk about her teacher. Celestia remained thankfully silent while he thought, and eventually he decided to blurt it out despite his worries. “If you produced the same ring for Twilight, she would say yes before you could even ask.” A warm shadow fell over him as Princess Celestia patted him gently on the cheek with a smile. “Don’t be silly, dear boy. Now please, rise with my permission, and my blessing.” Green Grass got up from his kneeling position with a sudden urge to look around, deeply relieved that Princess Celestia still seemed to be the only pony who had witnessed his ordeal. At one time, the close proximity of Her Royal Highness would have caused him more anxiety than he could handle, but the last year’s experience had muted his panic-prone instincts, which he was still trying to determine if it was a good or bad thing. Tucking the ring back inside his jacket, he sighed. “You don’t think anypony saw that, did you? I’d hate for rumors to go screaming around town like they did the time your Herald introduced me as your Consort that one memorable night.” The Princess of the Sun nodded with an enigmatic smile. “Don’t worry, Lord Green Grass. I’ve taken measures to ensure that type of incident never happens again.” * * * In a tall building fairly near the castle, a unicorn stopped his surreptitious activity and began to pack his gear in preparation for a rapid retreat. A pink aura surrounded the telephoto-lens equipped camera as Blotter began to disassemble it with his magic, feeling a warm glow to his insides at the thought of upcoming headlines and exclusive articles, drawing his mind to dreams of awards and beautiful, lovely bits, in huge piles. “Princess Celestia to Wed Prince Green Grass in Musical Ceremony,” he muttered, placing the camera into its padded case with all the soft attention of multi-million bit eggs. “Secret Lover Tells All In Song. Celestia’s Star Pupil In Lover’s Trio. Wedding Bells and Baby Showers. Ooo, I like that one.” The old newspaper unicorn lifted his equipment to float behind him as he turned to leave, only to stop cold as a charcoal-grey Night Guard seemed to materialize out of the darkness directly in front of his nose. “Good evening, Mister Blotter,” said the large Night Pegasus, so close to Blotter his breath fogged the reporter’s glasses, blotting out the terrifying view of the Nocturne’s grim visage. “My name is Optio Pumpernickel of the Royal Guard, Night Division. I think we need to have a little lesson about privacy and how it applies to the Princesses.” As two more huge Night Guards stepped out of the shadows at the shoulders of Pumpernickel and lumbered their places to either side of the newspaperpony, the guard smiled with sharp teeth. “If you would be so good as to be seated, Lieutenant Daisy Cutter and Lieutenant Plowshare would be very happy to further your education.” * * * The aftermath of dinner fell behind Green Grass as he walked alone through the corridors of the castle. After their nighttime chariot ride had concluded and both passengers were returned unharmed and quite thrilled, Princess Celestia had taken Princess Sunny back to the diplomatic quarters and Friday had departed for wherever he called home, leaving the tutor the simple task of returning to his castle suite and sleeping until whatever the morning would bring. Even that simple task seemed to be beyond him this evening. His sleepless mind carried him along the corridors, but not in the direction of his room. Instead, he found himself outside the offices of Diplomatic Support Services, where a humorless pony dressed in the armor of the Night Guard carefully inspected him before granting access. It had been a busy night, but as long as he was on a roll, there was one long-avoided task that really needed to be completed this evening. Knocking once on the half-open door of the Director, Green Grass plodded inside at the muffled, “Yeah, come in.” He had visited Night Light at the office a few times before, normally in the company of his daughter, Twilight Sparkle, but the question he was about to ask did not come up at that time, for obvious reasons. There must have been a primitive ‘nesting’ instinct in Twilight’s family, a comfort at being surrounded by large numbers of books and papers, which in Green Grass’ case, he could sympathize with totally. Night Light’s office was a ‘working’ office, not the spotless chrome and glass offices of the power brokers and elite, but a combination between an explosion in a paper mill and a library storage room. Books and papers covered every one of the multiple tables and chairs scattered around, as well as a significant portion of floor and the cluttered windowsills except for a small potted fern which sat thirstily in the window. Night Light himself was almost invisible behind a wall of papers glowing with his golden magic, detectable only by the raspy scratching of his quill, and after a few minutes of waiting, his impatient voice. “I’m busy, so make it quick.” Green Grass paused before deciding this was one bandage that would hurt less if just ripped straight off. “May I marry your daughter, sir?” “Yes.” After a sufficient amount of time for Twilight’s father to change his mind, or possibly expand on his short response, Green Grass turned to leave. “Thank you, sir.” “Stop.” After a final bit of scribbling, the cloud of papers surrounding Twilight's father shuffled themselves back to their appropriate files and the overworked stallion looked at Green Grass with bloodshot eyes. “Is she pregnant?” “No! We’ve been very careful,” blurted out Green Grass before realizing what he had said. However, he did stay quiet after his startled words, a marked improvement caused by a years worth of experience. Night Light did not seem to notice his outburst, but dug a chipped coffee mug out from under a pile of papers with a grunt of acceptance. To Green Grass’ scandalized horror, the well-worn mug was inscribed ‘To The Bestest Daddy!’ in a colorful foalish scrawl with a recognizable scribble of a blue unicorn and a tiny purple filly on the side, hugging in the middle of a pile of books. Twilight’s father ignored his future son-in-law’s panic and took a deep drink from the thick coffee, chewing cautiously afterwards. “Thought I should at least warn you. There’s three generations behind her where that question is answered ‘yes,’ including mine. I haven’t had the nerve to ask my son about Princess Cadence yet. Think I’ll just wait a year. So what did Princess Celestia say?” Green Grass was still getting his mental hooves back under him, but managed to answer, “Yes. How did you know I asked her?” Switching to nearly-unaccented Griffon, Night Light responded, “Because you’re smarter than you look. How was your dinner with Princess Sun Shines over the Misty Mountains?” Caught unaware, Green Grass took a moment to clear his throat and reply in his own fairly good Griffon. “Very educational. Her Highness is a very intelligent squab, with strong talons and a sunny, um—” Not able to find the word he wanted in Griffon, he switched back to Equestrian “—brilliant future ahead of her. I take it negotiations between her grandfather and Luna are going—” The sharp glance Night Light gave him prompted a second change in conversational direction “—as well as could be expected, officially. I’m positive with the leadership provided by our princesses, harmony between griffons and ponies shall endure for the foreseeable future.” “Right. You’re almost as good with your tongue as your brother.” “I’m learning, sir.” Night Light gave a sharp nod and the papers on his desk shuffled about, surrounded by his golden magic aura. “We learn until we die. It’s too bad all of the details of the negotiations are classified, son, or I’d like to get your opinion on something. Whoops. Could you grab that for me?” A single sheet of paper drifted to the floor, boosted by a golden magical glow. Green Grass scooped it up and moved to put it back on the table, his eyes unconsciously translating the griffon runes until he froze in place. “They’re not serious, are they?” Golden magic gently tugged at the paper in his hooves until Night Light shook his head and floated over another few sheets for the tutor’s perusal. “Well, I guess since you accidently stumbled onto the griffon demand that we send one of the Elements of Harmony to live in their aerie, there’s nothing I can do but swear you to secrecy over the ongoing negotiations.” He tersely motioned the tutor to a nearby chair, which he cleared by magically sending all the contents tumbling onto the already-cluttered floor. “The short answer is, ‘I still don’t know if they’re serious.’ The long answer is ‘Like hell I’m sending my daughter.’” Green Grass settled into the chair, musing to himself out loud while reading. “Their stated reason seems to be their fear that the Elements of Harmony could be used as some sort of doomsday weapon, and removing one of the bearers would make it ‘safe’ for the rest of Equestria. The rest of the griffons would be just paranoid enough to go along with their demands. Luna and Celestia would never allow anypony to be held hostage like that, although I’d be tempted to send Pinkie Pie, just to make them regret their decision.” Night Light snorted as the tutor rattled onward. “So if this is just a bargaining ploy, the only other thing they could really be after is control of this ‘Crystal Empire’ that just popped up near them. Pretty darned pushy for a bunch who didn’t even know there was a Crystal Empire until a few days ago, but they are griffons.” “Tell me something new,” grumbled Night Light. “You spent the day with Princess Sun Shines. Did she let anything slip that might indicate they’re planning a preemptive strike to put them in control of the Empire.” “Against a whole empire? With only a hundred griffons, and most of them too old for fighting? How big is this Crystal Empire, anyway?” “My son’s report says one city with a population of a few thousand, earth ponies mostly, although there are a few pegasi and unicorns in the population. They were pretty well subjugated by King Sombra before they were cursed into a thousand year slumber, so I wouldn’t count on any kind of military force. Both he and Princess Cadence are exhausted enough that putting up his shield over the city would be a risky long-shot. There’s supposed to be some magical protection in the empire that is related to the daytime aurora borealis display that fired up this afternoon, but nothing physical. A dozen griffons could probably take over the whole place before the Royal Guard could go through the logistics of deploying.” “It would be a slaughter. Like two hundred years ago, only worse.” Green Grass winced inside as he realized his prospective father-in-law’s real son and royal daughter-in-law were most likely still in the city, and given Shining Armor’s stubborn nature, most likely would remain there to protect the city even if the sky were filled with invading griffons. It seemed to be a family trait. Night Light’s expression of calm detachment did not change one iota. “Any dissention in the ranks that Princess Sunny let slip?” “No. None at all. She said Grandpa ‘whomps’ anygriffon who squawks out of his line.” Green Grass remained in his seat, leafing through the collection of diplomatic demands and analysis while Night Light returned to his work. There were a number of historical diplomatic parallels to their positions over the last few centuries, but all of them had ended rather badly for the griffons. Still, even after sitting for far too long and examining the papers until they began to blur in his sight, there was only one conclusion he could reach. “If Grandpa is crazy, or if he can get reinforcements from other aeries, he’ll do it just for the glory it would bring his nest. I presume Princess Celestia has already sent the guard to...” Green Grass trailed off at a sharp glance from Night Light. “Oh. Troop movements are classified. Right. That’s as good as I can guess, sir.” “Your brother Graphite gave me the same evaluation a few hours ago before Luna reclaimed him for further debriefing. If you notice a few less brightly-polished Royal Guards in the castle tomorrow—” “Won’t say a word. Although you may want to arrange some entertainment for his granddaughter outside the castle tomorrow. When I say she’s bright, I mean she’s going to be Twilight bright when she’s grown up.” As Green Grass said his goodbyes to Twilight Sparkle’s father and made his way back to his suite alone, he could not help but think of the griffon fledgeling and her uncertain future held at the whim of her elders and their attempts to recapture glory long passed away. History was supposed to repeat itself, but the thought of the helpless griffon princess being swept up in a bloody war and having her light snuffed out so early in her life made his hooves drag along the cold marble floors of the castle as he returned to his cold bed. If anyone would like to record the songs used in this story, please notify the author and a van with very nice gentlestallions wearing white coats will stop by to help you with the process. (and I’ll link to your recording, unless it sounds like my singing in which case I’ll save your hearing) > Ch. 6 - Wake-Up Call > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Traveling Tutor and the Diplomat’s Daughter Wake-Up Call It isn’t what we know that gives us trouble, it’s what we know that ain’t so. — Trigger Rogers The beautiful auroral displays of the evening were fading as the faint light of pre-dawn began to filter down from the mountain tops surrounding Canterlot, highlighting the yawning Nocturne mare climbing the stairs to the Observatory tower. Twenty-four floors. Seven inches to the step. Four hundred and ninety three steps. She could have flown up in a matter of minutes, but it had been a long night of ground-bound desk drudgery that had claimed her once she had delivered dinner last evening, and as soon as she woke Her Royal Highness from her well-deserved nap this morning, she was going to have to fly like the wind to keep up with her. But only for the next hour until Her Highness was once again ensconced in negotiations with the griffons, and then Laminia would be able to return home to slumber through the day alongside her handsome husband. Who, coincidentally, was the only Night Guard on duty in front of the Observatory door once she reached her destination. “Good morning, lovercolt.” Spiking the greeting with a warm kiss to the nose for her husband, Princess Luna’s Hoofmaiden nodded to the door he was guarding. “Is Her Royal Highness prepared to greet the morn? And where’s the other guard? There’s supposed to be two of you lunkheads on duty at all times.” “Down there.” Optio Pumpernickel nodded tersely at a nearby tower roof where two alert young Night Guards stood on display, nodding back in return. “Her Highness deserved a little privacy this evening.” Trying to ignore the waggling eyebrows of his suddenly bright-eyed young wife, he rolled his eyes and silently mouthed, “Grooming. Hours of it.” Laminia’s excited intake of breath corresponded with the referenced Princess of the Night popping out of the Observatory door in a faint fog of fine winter coat hair that exploded out in a fuzzy cloud around her. Luna now looked much more sleek and rested than last evening, even though she had a few primary feathers on both wings sticking together from a poor preen. She snagged the package carried by her coughing Hoofmaiden, opening it up and flipping through the report and collection of photographs with a pleased smile. “Very good work to the both of you. Laminia, after you take these to my chambers, you may have the rest of the day off. Optio Pumpernickel.” Luna eyed the suddenly alert and very statue-like guard. “Your shift was over several hours ago.” “Sorry, My Princess.” The Princess of the Night focused her attention on the sweating guard. “You do realize We have other guards who are fully capable of standing outside Our door, correct?” “I was attempting to be discreet, Ma’am.” Luna sighed. It was not as impressive as one of Celestia’s sighs of disappointment, which could cause innocent ponies blocks away to apologize for whatever they had done to disappoint the Princess of the Sun, but what it lacked in volume, it made up for in proximity. “In order for others to think nothing is going on, the appearance of ‘nothing going on’ should be maintained. Anypony who happened by this evening would notice there was only one guard outside Our door, and make assumptions.” “Sorry, Ma’am.” “Sorry does not cut the ketchup⁽*⁾. Once you have escorted my groomer to his morning appointment, you are to return here to the Observatory and clean it of all hair as punishment. Is that clear?” (*) Princess Luna’s use of modern slang and aphorisms was a work in progress. — “Yes, Ma’am.” “Good.” Princess Luna turned to Laminia and whispered something in her ear before launching into the air and regally soaring away, the two guards from the nearby tower flapping frantically in pursuit of their princess. Once she was out of sight, Pumpernickel flicked one ear and looked at his giggling wife. “What did she say?” Laminia looked up at her lunkish husband with big, golden eyes and a secret smirk. “She said there’s still three-quarters of a bottle of champagne and some whipped cream left inside as a reward for when we’re done cleaning, and then the Observatory is ours for the whole morning. Race you back here.” With a quick kiss to her stunned husband, Laminia spread her membranous wings and flew off into the crisp spring air to deliver her package. * * * Green Grass was never one to spring nimbly out of bed to greet the morning, feeling it much more appropriate to give the dawn a certain amount of respectful privacy by only crawling out of bed to greet the sun at the crack of noon. Close proximity to Twilight Sparkle for the last year had not dampened any of his well-practiced habits, as she tended to share his deep respect for the morning, even more on mornings after carrying on their mutually enjoyable late-night activities⁽¹⁾. So the faint rattling noises of other pony activities inside his suite this morning only caused Green Grass to roll over on his back and pull the covers up to his chin with a subdued groan, rather than actually exit the sinfully-soft featherbed for the cold marble floors of the castle. (1) Stargazing, of course. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Go wash your mind out with soap. — “Hello, room service,” he muttered, trying to pitch his voice high enough for Friday Haystings to hear. The old stallion seemed to take great pleasure in being the first thing Green Grass saw when he opened his eyes in the morning at the castle. “I’d like to place an order for strawberry pancakes with hot syrup and melted butter, toast, apple juice and a sunflower seed bagel. Extra cream cheese. Some blintzes. Two croissants with apple preserves. And a strawberry milkshake, extra thick.” The expected dry tones of the old servant responding were completely absent. Instead there was a faint rustling that his sleepy mind could not immediately identify, along with a scratching noise that abruptly quit, only to reappear as a full set of predator talons and claws landed on his chest. When his eyes snapped open in shock, all he could see was a pair of griffon eyes just inches away from his head. It was a tribute to Green Grass’ recent physical fitness regime that on his lightning-fast dart from the suite en route to the comparative predator-free safety of the hallway, only three of his hooves touched the ice-cold marble floors, the fourth scooping up his suit jacket and hat even as his older brother’s blue magical aura suspended his escape attempt mid-leap. Graphite’s experience with his younger brother’s recent fitness efforts were somewhat out of date, so while he was expecting to stop Green Grass just inside the doorway for appropriate brotherly teasing, the considerably higher velocity he managed to attain resulted in both brothers vanishing out the door with a startled yelp as they skidded across cold marble and collided against the wall. “Good morning, little bro. Jumpy this morning, aren’t you?” Graphite untied himself from his panic-prone brother’s vice-like grip and stood up with a yawn, brushing away a few dark hairs from his soft, grey coat. “I caught Friday on my way up to your room, and sent him out to grab some breakfast for you and your royal guest.” “Guest?” gasped Green Grass, finally deciphering which way was up and managing to get to a seated position on the cold marble floor while putting on his hat. “Yes indeed, my fortunate brother. I get to play courier today too, I suppose.” Graphite lit his horn and floated a note over to his recovering brother. Our Subject, Lord Green Grass The Crown hereby requests and requires you to provide escort services for Princess Sun Shines on the Misty Mountains at Dawn Through Early Morning Hazy Skies for the day while her father, Ambassador How Sharp The Edge Of Slicing Feathers Are During A Dive Upon Prey is conducting negotiations with Our Personage regarding the recent emergence of the long-held Equestrian province of the Crystal Empire, presently ruled over by Princess Cadence and Prince-Consort Shining Armor as our Regents. Appropriate compensation will be provided. Please remain within the boundaries of Canterlot proper, and attempt to restrain your creativity for one day. By the order of Princess Luna, Diarch. “You don’t look well,” mussed Graphite, holding a hoof to his stunned brother’s forehead. “I know how you always overreact to little things⁽²⁾. Do you need a paper bag to breathe into?” (2) Green Grass had an entirely normal colthood with two older brothers, and enjoyed the traditional entertainments one normally gets from older siblings. Therapy helped. — “I’m fine. I just hope I didn’t frighten Sunny when—” The young griffon in question rolled into the doorway, pointing at the two brothers and laughing so hard she could not talk. “She looks positively terrified, GG.” “Thank you, big brother. That will be all.” “Not quite. Oh, wait. Let me get the door.” Graphite opened the suite front door and escorted in Friday, who towed several trays of caloric delights from the castle kitchens behind him in his topaz magical aura. “Breakfast is served, sir and young miss.” The old servant did not react as Graphite magically plucked an extra donut off the tray on Friday’s way to the suite kitchenette, other than to ask, “Will your brother be staying for breakfast, sir?” “Yes, I suppose,” said Green Grass, getting to his hooves and watching Friday and the griffon fledgeling scurry off to the suite’s tiny kitchen before he turned back to his brother. “You look like heck warmed over, Big G.” “Late night.” The last of the donut vanished and Graphite licked his chapped lips painfully. The tube of lip balm Green Grass hoofed over was accepted and used gratefully, although with a curious look at his little brother, before being tucked away and a second note produced. “That parchment was made from… animal skin, right?” asked the tutor, examining the note without touching it. “I certainly hope so, bro.” The One True King of the Crystal Mountain Range hereby commands the pony known as Geen Grass with the safety and protection of the True Princess of the Crystal City, Ancestral Home of the Griffon Tribes and her Rightful Throne while negotiations are underway for the removal of the usurpers of the crown, reparations for damages to the Griffon Kingdom, and punitive sanctions against the Fire Queen, Celestia. A hundred ponies shall die terrible and painful deaths for the slightest of injuries to the Rightful Princess of the Crystal City, starting with Geen Grass and his family. PS: She’s allergic to beets. Green Grass blew out a breath as he finished reading the note. The faint chill he felt could have easily been a draft, although putting on his suit jacket for their morning activities did not seem to dampen it any. “Well, that could have been worse. You want to help me entertain Her Highness today?” “No way. I’m going to grab a few winks before Luna needs me at the negotiating table again.” Graphite yawned, and a second donut floated out of the kitchenette, switching colors as he picked it up from Friday’s magic and took a healthy bite. A pair of coffee cups followed, as well as Friday’s acerbic voice. “Would either of you young gentlecolts require a coffee this morning?” “No thank you, Friday. I think I’ll be awake for days after this.” Green Grass rubbed the talon scratches on his chest and contemplated several sleepless nights of griffon nightmares in his future. “Thank you, Friday. You’re a peach.” Graphite nabbed both cups and pried the lid off one, taking a deeply respectful draught of the life-giving beverage. “So, you going to take our little princess out to a museum or something?” “I thought a more motherly environment would be better for today.” Graphite stopped half-way through the first coffee to eye his younger brother suspiciously. “You do know our whole house is in chaos from big brother Regal’s wedding plans. Mom will flip. Aunt Petunia is allergic to feathers and Aunt Trellis would never—” “I wasn’t talking about our mother,” said Green Grass with a broad grin. > Ch. 7 - Morning Glory > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Traveling Tutor and the Diplomat’s Daughter Morning Glory The love from a supportive family is the greatest of all goods. — C. Manson It had been a long, strange trip through the upper city of Canterlot with the curious little griffon fledgeling at his side and Friday Haystings trailing behind, but after a great number of stops assuaging Sunny’s curiosity at everything shiny, Green Grass had finally arrived at his destination. It took several rings of the doorbell before he got a response, and when the rattling and calls of ‘Just a moment!’ had died down, the door opened to a familiar purple and white mare who he had finally gotten comfortable calling ‘Mom.’ After all, it was a lot more comfortable than calling her ‘Twilight.’ “Greenie!” shouted Twilight Velvet the moment she opened the door, grabbing the tutor in a crushing hug that smelled vaguely of mashed carrots and ozone. “I thought you and Twilight were in the Crystal Kingdom?” “She went to save the world without me again, Missus Velvet.” Quickly continuing at Twilight Velvet’s frown, he added in Griffon, “I would like to introduce to you to Princess Sun Shines on the Misty Mountains at Dawn Through Early Morning Hazy Skies, daughter of Ambassador How Sharp The Edge Of Slicing Feathers Are During A Dive Upon Prey, and heir to the aerie of the Misty Mountains Griffons. Sunny, this is Frefreu Twilight Velvet of House Twinkle, Mistress of the Silver Diadem, Defender of the Realm, Dean of the High Energy Thaumatology Department in Canterlot University, and the mother of Twilight Sparkle, the Element of Magic.” “Charmed to meet Your Highness,” responded Twilight Velvet in somewhat accented Griffon. “Please come in. Our nest is your nest.” A loud crash from inside the house sent the middle-aged mare dashing inside, shouting, “Have Greenie show you around while I catch the colts!” * * * Tea in the house of Twilight Velvet was much simpler than with Celestia, but carried a similar learning experience. A plastic container in the icebox with a few icecubes tinking around in the glass provided a sweet, golden beverage that tasted every bit as good to his plebeian taste buds. Orange juice for the griffon princess and bottles of formula for the two little unicorn colts finished out the refreshments, while Twilight’s mother settled for running around in a dither, trying to keep the two young colts from getting into trouble. As they were Twilight’s baby siblings, and colts to boot, it was a futile effort. Twilight Sparkle had a habit of being caught unaware by current events, partially due to her reluctance to read newspapers without a red pencil and a blank letter to the editor close at hoof. When her own brother had gotten married, she had read the newspaper that had held the announcement, but in such fine detail as to miss the announcement totally while producing a three-page response detailing every missing comma and four different instances where the paper misspelled Quinary in their dining review. The birth of her new little brothers struck her much the same surprising way when she found out about them by way of a congratulatory letter from Celestia. For one playful moment, Green Grass considered making his wedding proposal to Twilight, that is his Twilight, by way of a letter from Celestia too, if not for the long and vengeful memory of his potential spouse, and his hopes for spending many long years within hoofs-reach of a pony who had learned so many spells useful for pranking. Not to mention just exactly what humorous edits Celestia might add before sending. Sunny took to playing with the colts with a vengeance, or more correctly, the smaller unicorn colts quickly viewed the big griffon princess as Equestria’s greatest fluffy toy. She would pounce down on them from tall shelves, making them run screaming with joy around the room until they ganged up on her in return. At that point, the tables were turned indeed, as Sunny turned out to be quite ticklish to little colt hooves. Given a respite from her motherly duties, Twilight Velvet plunked down on the couch next to Green Grass, snagging the iced tea from his grasp and draining it dry. “Ahh, thank you Greenie. You want any more tea?” “Yes, Missus… I mean yes, mom.” “Great. It’s in the icebox.” Twilight Velvet reclined on the couch and propped her legs up on a hoofstool while a collection of ungraded tests floated out of her nearby saddlebags in her glowing purple magic. “Get me one too while you’re up.” There was no way to keep from chuckling on his way to the kitchen. His own mother would have demanded a servant tend to the menial task, and since Friday had vanished without a trace once he knocked on House Twinkle’s door, it would have been a very long, dry wait. True, his own parents were of a social rung far higher on the ladder than Twilight’s, who occupied what the upper-crust would think of as a mere step-stool, but sometimes he thought his real mother would rather starve to death than cook. Two large glasses of iced tea and one orange juice later, he returned to the chaotic playground the little ones had made out of the room, putting the glasses down on a table and just watching his someday-to-be brothers in law play with royalty. Daring Doo, the famous griffon explorer, prowled fearlessly through the Temple of the Pony Goddess in search of ancient treasure. Shifting blocks of the heaviest couch cushions loomed to the left and right, threatening to fall down in a crushing avalanche if she failed to negotiate the treacherous passage. She could hear the giggling of the natives, fierce protectors of the temple, just waiting to spring upon their helpless prey. Suddenly, one of the walls caved in, and the temple guards leapt onto the intruder. Rolling across the floor in a blurred streak of blue and purple, their ball of mortal combat bumped against a raised altar of polished wood, upon which rested the fabled Treasure of the Horned Ponies. As Daring Doo struggled to free herself from the guards, a blue aura surrounded the vase and floated it away from their combat area. “So how are Phobos and Deimos doing, mom?” Both little colts looked up at the mention of the familiar nicknames, their violet eyes glittering with cheerful malevolence. Night Light had supposedly wanted to name them Pulsar and Quasar, but for some reason that he was still trying to figure out, stallions got almost no input with regard to the naming of newborns The possible exception to the rule had been Shining Armor, who was named after Twilight Velvet’s favorite uncle. After all, Shining Sword had been the one at the wedding to stand behind Night Light with the family sword when Twilight Velvet had gotten in a family way from their family activities, and the ceremony had considerable influence on the naming of the child present at the occasion, but still unborn. Still, Green Grass could find no reasonable logic for a noted scientist like Twilight Velvet to insist on naming her newborn colts Dusk Shine and Dawn Glimmer. Dusk had a fairly dark purple coat, that had continued to darken as he had gotten older, along with the most beautiful flowing white mane that looked a lot like Green Grass’ brother, Graphite’s. Dawn, which still sounded like a filly’s name to him, was a solid blue much like his father with untamed tufts of red mane and tail that clashed something fierce with not only his colors, but those of his entire family. They were about as different as a cat and a bird, but could coordinate their assaults and activities with the ease of hoofball players running familiar plays. Twilight Velvet did not rise to the bait, tucking the vase away and allowing the familiar point of discussion to pass with another red checkmark on a poor, unsuspecting test held hovering in front of her. “So, have you set the date to make my daughter an honorable mare? You know, if you two were to have little ones of your own, you could name them whatever you want. Within reason.” She tilted her tea back for another drink and froze momentarily, gently putting down all the papers she was grading before fishing the diamond ring out of the tea with her magic. “So, what do you think, mom?” “Well, I’ll give you points for creativity, but you’re going to lose some for placement and safety. I certainly hope you don’t intend on proposing to my daughter in this fashion.” Getting no response from the grinning stallion, she held the ring up for close examination, turning it back and forth to catch the light as the three little ones darted about unsupervised. Finally she floated it back over to Green Grass, who tucked it back into the box inside his suit jacket. “When were you planning on asking her?” A cloud seemed to sweep across the windows, blocking the sun and damping the warmth in his chest he had just begun to enjoy. “I’m not sure. Princess Celestia needs her and the rest of the bunch fairly frequently, so I’m afraid if I spring it on her at the wrong time, I’ll distract her from saving all of Equestria from some horrible fate. I can just see the post-apocalyptic land populated by only a few tattered ponies all cursing my name as they huddle in shelters and cross the poisonous deserts of a doomed world.” “Or perhaps your proposal will fill her heart with even more friendship, and save Equestria from a similar fate.” A red pencil descended on a test with a single sweep in a motion that Green Grass was quite familiar with, having seen it on his own tests far too often. “Had you scored better in your Dialogue and Logic class, you would know better than to use a False Dichotomy argument in this circumstance.” “Oh.” He thought about the problem while watching Sunny prowl along the rug, pretending not to see the two giggling colts hiding behind a pillow in ambush. He envied the young griffon until he thought back to yesterday, and her questionable future if her grandfather were to invade the Crystal Empire. It was probably best that she did not know of her potential fate, instead enjoying the moment with two little playmates in a sunbeam coming through the window. “I can’t possibly know if Twilight Sparkle and I are ready—” “Argument from Ignorance,” said Velvet, checking off another incorrect answer and writing a short note. “Statistically, over a third of unicorn/earth pony marriages—” “Ecological Fallacy,” stated the teacher with great certainty. “We are not talking about generic unicorns and earth ponies, we are talking about my filly and you.” “We have a lot of differences we’ve never really worked out to—” “Nirvana Fallacy,” stated Twilight Velvet, putting one reddened test into a folder and pulling another unbloodied victim out. “Nopony ever has all their differences worked out before a marriage.” “I want to find the perfect moment to ask her.” She stopped at that, holding a test with half a red mark across an answer. “The perfect is the enemy of the good.” “Coltaire? I believe his quote was actually Le mieux est l'ennemi du bien.” Green Grass fumed slightly, taking a drink of his tea despite its suddenly flat taste. “The best is the enemy of the good. I want her to have the best, and all I can think of is how I’m only marginally good at best. I mean, my whole life I’ve been a disappointment to my parents, my school. The only thing I’ve ever really been good at is written right on my flank.” He gestured to his cutie mark, a filly-sized horn with weak sparkles around it. “I love working with the little tikes, the way their eyes light up when they levitate their first object, the way they shriek with happiness when they show their parents what they can do. Twilight, that is your daughter, makes me feel the same way when she looks into my eyes. She laughs with her entire being when I do something funny, and she lights up like a beacon when she talks about her friends. I know just how Spike felt when he had his brief ‘growth spurt’ a few months back because I get so greedy I want to possess her all, every atom, every thought. But then I realize what makes her so special is what she gives to the world, and it makes me feel guilty to be blocking her light from those who need it most.” Twilight Velvet sat quietly listening to him ramble until he had finished, leaving her tests ungraded for the moment. “You,” she declared decisively, “are an idiot. But a nice idiot, much like the idiot I married. You have the approval of a princess and her parents, but you’re still afraid to ask the permission of my daughter. As parents, I must warn you we’re only going to accept this reluctance from you two for so long before we take measures.” “How long?” asked Green Grass reflexively, as if it were the due date of a homework assignment. “Until she starts to show.” Ignoring the sputtering stallion, Twilight Velvet gestured, and a thin book wrapped in her magic floated out from one of the multitude of bookshelves that encircled the room. “On a different note, I have a little job for you. I thought about this the first time Night Light mentioned the troubles that have been affecting the Misty Mountains griffons. I had a great-great-something grandmother from there who never spoke of her experiences, but wrote them down and bound them up with the promise they never be opened while she was alive. Her diary was forgotten in a pile of other family history, passed down from cluttered attic to basement storage through the years until Twilight became the Princess’ student. Back then, I thought it would be nice to make a family history for a keepsake, some research with more practical applications for her than thousand year-old prophecies about the mare in the moon. We never got very far into the project, what with my job and Twilight’s studies with the Princess, but I kept it all boxed up just in case. Since you have some free time, I thought I’d dump the whole thing on you. I’ll mail you the rest of the boxes, but I held that one back for you to read.” “My diary. By Morning Glory,” read Green Grass from the front of the thin book. “That’s odd. One of the diplomats who was killed… I mean who was in the diplomatic group to the aerie back before the battle I covered in my thesis had the same name.” He flipped through the pages with casual interest at first, then with a great deal of trepidation and more than a few uncomfortable glances at the young griffon princess at play with the two little colts. It was far too easy to see Sunny as an adult centuries ago, diving down on ordinary ponies to rend and tear their bodies into shreds, eating their… “Greenie!” shouted the griffon fledgeling as she landed on Green Grass’ chest, claws first. “What’cha readin’?” After picking the book up off the ground and recovering his now-empty glass of tea, Green Grass scooted down the couch away from the tea-dampened spot and replied. “Just some dry old stories from a few centuries ago during the last griffon/pony war at your aerie. Has your grandfather ever told you stories from that time?” “Oh, yeah!” The young griffon bounced across the couch as the two little unicorn colts jumped up on the damp cushions. “There must be dozens. The one I like best is...” Iron Talon, Wingleader of the First Talon, swept high in the sky over the armored pony invaders far below. The weak wings of the pegasi guards were unable to lift their steel-clad bodies to his height in the sky, and so they clustered below in frightened clumps. With a scream of battle, the brave griffon tercel plunged towards the ground, shouting out a cry of battle to his fellow griffons over the roaring winds. “Friends and wingmates! We shall strike the pony invaders and drive them back from our beloved mountains. Never more shall our chicks be endangered of becoming slaves to the hooved menace, but we shall bring even more of their defeated kind into our aerie so they may learn our wisdom and serve us as they are meant to serve. Fear us, Oh Pony Queen, for our talons are sharp as thorns and our wings as strong as the mountains we inhabit. “Fly, my fellow warriors! Show your bravery and skill against these cowards who hide their flesh behind steel and crawl upon the ground like vermin! Your feeble attempts to invade shall be shattered against our brave kind, and you shall know our beak on your throats. Let us meet you in glorious battle, so that you shall be crushed beneath our talons!” Green Grass sat back and listened as the eager griffon chattered away. No passive storyteller, she pounced from the couch at the squealing colts, or clambered up onto a chair to spread her pinfeathered wings wide, telling a half-dozen stories about brave griffons defending their nests from the evil pony invaders. The amateur historian in him marveled at how the degrees of difference in the griffon side of the conflict clashed with the exhaustive research Green Grass had put in with the various pony histories of the fight. The teacher in him loved to see how the young griffon could spout off entire long speeches supposedly given by the brave griffons in the midst of combat, if somehow a creature in a full dive upon a ground-bound foe would be able to speak more than a few words before impact. The prospective parent in him fairly glowed with badly-subdued pride at both the grifflet’s brilliance, and her rapt audience of two little mismatched unicorns who would someday be his nephews. Story time was brought to an end by a trip out into the garden for some sun, allowing the little unicorn colts to be led on a hunting expedition by the fierce griffon warrior. Her mortal enemy lurked in the rough wilderness of the pristine garden: the vegetable-devouring bunny rabbit who had been poaching on Twilight Velvet’s lettuce, Prench Beans, and radishes. The hunt was long and intricate, the fierce warrior constantly expressing frustration at her assistants who seemed more interested in nibbling the flowers than their assigned tasks. Green Grass tried to relax on the patio furniture while splitting his attention between the book and his young charges, Twilight Velvet having vanished into the house for ‘just a minute’ which wound up being well over an hour. The book was a fascinating glimpse into the life of an ambassador two centuries ago, as they held a fragile peace between the violent griffons and the relatively peaceful ponies. Most of Green Grass’ master’s degree research was related to the two century old battle and the subsequent treaty from the pony military point of view, talking about high ground and supply lines. The ambassador Morning Glory served as an assistant seemed focussed to a fault on understanding and trade. Being a personal diary, it held the assistant’s private thoughts and worries about their mission, worries that turned out to be fully justifiable as the entire diplomatic envoy had been attacked without cause and slain except for Morning Glory. Lessons of the past should be passed on as a warning to the next generation, not blown into tales of glory and honor as Sunny had recited to him. Ponies had died in that battle, but far more griffons. The tightly regimented discipline of the pegasi were exemplified in the Wonderbolts, where anywhere up to twelve of the performers would act as a single unit. One griffon was a match for any pegasus soldier, which is why ponies trained in teams of four or more. Griffons were solitary creatures not known for cooperation, or the rulership of Equestria would look much different than it did. Even the two little unicorn colts cooperated together against Sunny as if it were in their nature to herd together against predators, and although they were younger, could fully hold their own in youthful games of pounce and tumble. Despite the fascinating nature of the diary, Green Grass maintained a split-concentration with his ward, only partially due to his desire not to wind up as green writing paper for the griffon ambassador. Sunny was a very likable griffon, and even with the substantial respect Green Grass had for his own personal safety and the fact she was a predator, he still trusted her with his prospective nephews. Two centuries ago, he could not imagine griffons and ponies playing together like this. Two centuries from now when he was long gone to dust, perhaps their battles would be only a distasteful entry in dusty history books. Well, and Celestia’s memories. Steel Beak, the famed hunter of dangerous game, proceeded into the hazardous Zebrican jungle with her two native guides. They were terrified of the fierce Lapin who had devastated their native village food supply, but they were stout and brave, for ponies, and clung to the brave hunter’s heels. Their hunt proceeded around the Dill Forest, and past vast fields of towering Okra Trees, and through the tangled Prench Bean jungle until the famous hunter discovered the first sign of their elusive prey: Lapin prints in the soft soil. The native guides agreed, after she got them to stop grazing on the leafy green lettuce of the area, that they indeed looked like the same terrifying Lapin, and so the three fearless adventurers tracked the prints into the dangerous Radish Fields. And there they found a danger far more dangerous than the deadly Lapin… The deadly Green Hose Snake lay curled up silently at the end of the trail, where undoubtedly it had ambushed and slain the Lapin, and was digesting the remains. A threat like this could not be ignored, for the innocent helpless natives would certainly be in much greater danger from this fierce predator. Silently, the hunter stalked her prey, concealed by the rows of lettuce her native guides were stealing nibbles from as they followed. Closer and closer they came, and still the deadly Hose Snake remained sleeping, the only sign of its meal being a few tiny blue scraps of cloth sticking out from under its deadly coils, perhaps a shoe and a fragment of jacket from the deceased Lapin. With a sudden roar, Steel Beak leapt upon the deadly Green Hose Snake, and wrestled it though the short grass. Her terrified native guides jumped into the fray too, but they were soon entangled by the green coils of the serpent, and rendered helpless. Lunch was announced by the arrival of Friday Haystings, towing enough food to feed a small army, or at least a very small griffon and her two lieutenants. Once the little ones were untangled from the garden hose and Twilight Velvet was awakened from her nap amidst a pile of graded tests, they spread out on the patio and brought out the food. The infant colts were still working on the ‘mashed’ food groups, but he helped mash and spoon right beside Twilight Velvet while Friday and Sunny offered suggestions. The chef at the castle had prepared a very tidy Lapin Rôti à l'Origan with carrots, which seemed to irritate the young griffon at the thought of her cotton-tailed nemesis being cooked instead of served raw and bloody, but after the first bite, all complaints ceased. She even offered Green Grass a bite, which after a great deal of thoughtful consideration, he accepted. It was frighteningly good. But he was never going to tell Fluttershy. And it was very easy to restrain himself to one bite. * * * Afternoon meant naptime, which in the case of two little unicorn colts was a near-trivial task from their rather exhaustive play earlier. Twilight Velvet carried them off to the nursery, leaving her three guests in the gardens to enjoy the lovely spring day. Sunny took the opportunity to climb to the top of a lawn furniture shade and look to the north, where faded threads of colors still writhed on the horizon. “Grandpa says the Crystal Empire is sending up fireworks to show just how glad they are to be back after so long away. I wonder if there are crystal griffons there?” “Unfortunately not, young miss,” intoned Friday. “I took the liberty of stopping by Miss Sparkle’s father’s workplace before picking up lunch. Preliminary reports from the Crystal Empire have just recently been declassified, and I’m afraid all you will find within their capital city are crystal earth ponies.” “Oh? Grandpa says ponies always come in three flavors. Not that I’ve ever bitten a pony,” she continued hastily. “It has been centuries since there have been any credible reports of griffons eating ponies. Or the other way around,” Green Grass added playfully with a snap of his teeth that sent Sunny scurrying to the very top of the furniture shade to giggle. “Only old mare’s tales, I suppose, and old stories.” “Rarr! I am a fierce warrior,” declared Sunny from the top of her lawn furniture umbrella, raising her wings high. “Fear me chubby pony, as I swoop down on you and gobble you up!” Leaping from her perch, the energetic griffon princess glided down to land on Green Grass’ chest with a solid thump that knocked his breath out for a moment. “Tell me a story, and I’ll let you live.” Once he managed to start breathing again, Green Grass looked deep into the young griffon’s eyes to see his own reflection. It was a sight Princess Celestia had probably seen more times than she could recall, looking into young and promising eyes while knowing their unfortunate fate and being unable to help. But she continued to try no matter the cost, so he should also. “Sunny. You’re a very smart and mature griffon for your age, correct?” “Grandpa says I’m the smartest.” The little griffon spread a wing and rearranged a crumpled feather with the same neatness and precision as she had displayed in her lessons last night. “So you can tell the difference between a lie, and somepony telling a story with a different point of view than yours, right? And you’re willing to listen to a story that won’t be like any of the other stories you’ve heard while growing up, right?” “Pfft. Sure.” Green Grass ignored the rather dry look from Friday, who had loosened his tie microscopically and was reclining on a lawn chair in the most casual pose he had ever seen from the elderly servant. The excitement of the previous night’s entertainment must have still coursed through his varicose veins, for his tea contained an actual slice of lemon and just a dollop of honey among the ice cubes. “Very well. The story I am going to tell you is of a diplomat pony, many years ago. Much like your father, she traveled to a far-off kingdom with other diplomats to resolve a war that threatened her lands, but there the resemblance with your father ends. After negotiating with the kingdom for several days, the king of that land lost control of his subjects, who attacked the diplomat and her staff. Only three of the ponies made it back to their rooms that afternoon, and they knew a message must be sent to warn the innocent pony farmers who were about to be invaded and killed. “The diplomat hid herself in their rooms and used her magic to send a message to her princess, warning of the attack. It took several hours for her to cast the spell, and while she was casting, the other two diplomats stayed behind to guard the door. Wave after wave attacked the two diplomats, who fought viciously, but eventually they were overwhelmed and killed. When their attackers broke open the door to the diplomat, she had sent the message to her princess, but the attackers killed her anyway, and then flew away to organize the invasion.” “So what happened then?” asked the little griffon after Green Grass had remained silent for a while. “Princess Celestia and her Royal Guard met the griffons as they attacked a bunch of defenseless earth pony farmers,” he said bluntly. “Those who persisted in their attacks, died. The only reason the Princess did not wipe that griffon aerie off the face of Equestria is a young diplomatic aide named Morning Glory who survived the attack and negotiated a treaty with the Wingmaster of the Misty Mountain griffons and those few who remained loyal to him. Your aerie. Griffons killed every single one of her friends, and yet she was so committed to peace that she was willing to—” Green Grass broke off and looked away, staring up the mountains to the snow-capped peaks. “It is one thing to be strong in battle, but quite a different thing to be strong in peace. It requires far more from your soul than simply fighting.” The little griffon snorted, laying her head down on the tutor’s chest with her beak poking a tiny hole in his dress jacket. “I don’t like that story,” she whispered. “It has a happy ending,” he replied, still looking up at the mountain. “Many years later, a descendent of that brave Wingmaster met two small colts who were descendents of the diplomat, Morning Glory. They played in a garden and were very happy. And when they grew up, they continued being friends, and visited each other all the time.” “I like that story better,” said Sunny with a sniff. “Tell me another one. One that doesn’t have ponies in it.” “Very well.” Green Grass rearranged his jacket and put a kerchief under Sunny’s beak so it would not draw blood where it was resting on his chest. “Once upon a time, before Equestria even existed, there were seven Titans, a mother and her six daughters—” “Not ponies?” asked Sunny, opening one eye to watch her green storytelling pillow. “No, of course not. They were… griffons.” “Better. Proceed.” Sunny closed her eyes and resumed basking in the sun on Green Grass’ chest. “The Titans were so massive that they strode through the stars and the depths of space the way we would walk through a cloud of fireflies, arranging the heavens as they passed to be pleasing to the eye. “Once while they were out walking, far, far from home, their mother became very sick. The six daughters wanted to carry her home, but she loved the stars so much that she ordered the daughters to leave her body lie among them when she finally passed away. “When she died, her daughters gathered around in sorrow, and decided to create a monument that would live forever in her memory. Her body they spread out as an immense land they called Equestria, and her eyes they plucked out and set above the land. One was gold and brought warm light, and the other silver, and brought the cool night. “The first daughter reached into the sky and surrounded the land with her mother’s beloved stars, pulling the brightest down and forming them into horned ponies who were given the responsibility of keeping the day and night.” “I thought I said no ponies,” mumbled the griflet, shifting positions in the warm sun. “Only a few,” reassured Green Grass before continuing. “The second daughter saw the new unicorns were hungry, so she waved her hoof… err, wing, and brought forth the grass and the trees to spread across her mother’s body in a thick green carpet, so that life would always be upon her. “The third daughter saw the plants wither and die without any to tend them, so she reached into the body of her mother and brought forth a race of ponies from the earth to tend the plants and protect them, so none would be hungry. “The fourth daughter saw the plants thirst, and reached up into the sky to bring down clouds, which she formed into winged ponies to bring water for the plants.” “And griffons,” muttered Sunny, shifting her stubby wings. “And griffons,” verified Green Grass. “Who helped bring water too.” “The fifth daughter saw the land lacked the beauty of her mother, so she created the towering mountains, the raging rivers, and the mighty oceans. And to watch over them, she placed the griffons, the selkies, and the sea ponies—” “Sea Griffons,” muttered Sunny, flattening her neck against Green Grass’ warm chest. “The sixth daughter was wise, and looked over the whole land, saying, ‘The land is indeed beautiful, but it has no defenses. Let us each leave an Element of our power when we depart, so the caretakers can use our Harmony to defend against the forces of chaos and evil.’ So each of the Titans parted with a small bit of their power, leaving it with the protectors of the land.” “Griffons,” mumbled Sunny. “When Discord appeared in Equestria and began to cause chaos, the ponies tried to use the power of the Elements of Harmony against him. But they were confused, and unable to work together, and so the Elements did not work for them. Desperate, they cried out, and the spirits of the Sun and Moon heard their pleas, manifesting in the forms of ponies of all three races. After using the Elements of Harmony to defeat the god of Chaos, the ponies were worried, and approached the celestial beings. ‘Please,’ they begged. ‘Do not return to your Sun and Moon, but remain with us and rule us in Harmony, for we are lost without guidance.’ “And so did the spirit of the sun and moon, now called Celestia and Luna, become the rulers of Equestria. The End.” No applause or thanks met the end of his story, only a faint snore from the little princess. The close proximity of the griffon make him think of Twilight sitting in the train just a few hours out of Canterlot. She was safe from any griffon invasion, even if the worst happened with the Crystal Empire. Princess Celestia would not risk the life of her special student, or any pony for that matter, without good reason. Before he met Twilight Sparkle, his tendency to place his own precious green hide in danger was almost nonexistent; now he had a young griffon napping on his chest while her grandfather threatened war. Perhaps it was the close proximity of a princess that caused foolish bravery. Or love. Was he taking risks he never would before just to ingratiate himself with Twilight? Or was it a real change in his heart? More likely it was a result of his fitness plan. The hero in the story always was the slim, handsome stallion who rescued the princess by battling the fierce dragon. It never was the slightly tubby teacher who made friends with the dragon, and only then captured the heart of the beautiful princess. In his eyes, she was a princess, less feathers and a crown. Or in present company, less feathers and a beak. Was he simply drawn to the danger she represented as a moth to the flame, or was he— Green Grass pushed his hat down lower over his eyes to block the sun and smiled. Self-delusion aside, he was well and truly hooked by the purple mare with the sparkling eyes, and regardless of his own dubious merits under relentless self-examination, she had declared the same about him. He was trapped, with no interest in escaping, in more ways than one. The sleeping griflet on his chest did not keep Green Grass from looking plaintively at his servant, who promptly floated a glass of iced tea with a straw over to the immobilized tutor. With a nod of thanks and a soft sigh of relaxation, he leaned back in his lawn chair to just enjoy an hour or two of peace and tranquility with nopony to bother him, wishing the weight on his chest was somepony else. > Ch. 8 - Admiring Sparkles > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Traveling Tutor and the Diplomat’s Daughter Admiring Sparkles There is great wisdom to be found in the study of the heavenly bodies. — H. Hefner Afternoon brought an activity Green Grass had not expected, as Twilight Velvet prepared a colt carrier and set off into the city to shop for a Father’s Day present for Night Light, Twilight Sparkle’s father. While he had planned for an outside diversion in the spring air such as one of Canterlot’s famous parks or waterfalls, the invitation from Twilight Velvet caught him still groggy and suggestible from his nap. Before he realized what was happening, he was wearing an occupied colt carrier with two hyperactive young unicorns trapped inside and a stuffed diaper bag on his back, while Sunny had decided to exchange transportation providers. Now she stood rather proudly on Twilight Velvet’s back, being very careful to keep her talons and claws in check as she bounced and pointed on their way through the open market. It took considerable concentration from Green Grass to keep ahead of his own diminutive charges, for if he wandered too far to the right or left, tiny unicorn hooves would snatch at trinkets or baubles just as quickly as lightning. He had his own gift to buy, kind of a ‘Congratulations for going to the Crystal Empire and completing Celestia’s task’ award, which was always Hades’ own puzzle for his non-materialistic marefriend. He had gone the Silver Inkwell route for Hearts and Hooves day, the Enchanted Book Light for her birthday, and just plain books (with the receipt, in the probable case she already had a copy) for any other occasion that came up, but he was running out of ideas. A waffle iron, perhaps, or would that be considered more a ‘Spike’ gift? Maybe stationary, or an abacus. “Oooo! I want! I want!” Sunny’s cry of joy would have been harder to ignore if it had not been about the seventh or eighth time he had heard it in the crowded collection of boutiques. Her additional altitude on the back of Twilight Velvet gave the little griffon a clear line of sight to the vast quantity of sparkly and glittery items scattered around the various booths and tables, but this time when he looked, it was worth drifting over to the item of interest. “A snow globe?” he asked. “I would think you get enough snow in the Misty Mountains?” “Not just a snow globe!” Sunny bounced off Twilight Velvet’s back and onto the shopkeeper’s table to grab the glass globe and vigorously shake it, watching the flakes of glitter float around with an appreciative, “Oooo. Sparkley.” “Well, that’ll distract you for an hour,” he said with a smile before glancing sharply to one side. A similar-sized snowglobe contained a distant moon adorned with a familiar pattern of dark blotches, and a nondescript silhouette of a pony sitting in a snowbank, looking up at the lonely moon. It seemed somewhat out of place, and he peeked under the ‘Sale’ sticker for the original price. “Twenty bits,” he said, contemplating the purchase. There was a sense of sorrow around the two figures trapped in their crystal shell: the distant moon with the shape of Nightmare Moon impressed upon it, and the lonely pony staring up into the night sky. It was impossible to get an idea of who the sitting pony was, or even if it was male or female, but he shook the sphere anyway to see the tiny flecks of white swirl around the two immobile figures in the same way Celestia had most probably sat many nights, looking at her sister imprisoned in the moon. It made him want to smash the thing to the ground right in front of his hooves and rejoin the sisters, but for the fact it was only glass and water, not Celestia and Luna. Still, it seemed the sitting pony looked up into the snowy sky with a sense of hope, not sorrow. “How much?” he said in a voice just slightly rougher than the norm as he moved slightly to his right so Phobos would be unable to reach the unstable stack of glass globes he wanted. “Fer you? Fifteen bits.” The shopkeeper eyed the two little unicorn colts on his back, considering the destruction of store merchandise that was just impatiently waiting to happen. “On sale this week for ten. It’s the last one of that model.” Green Grass added a box with a Canterlot Castle glitter snow globe to his collection. “How much together?” After paying for his purchase and escaping the store before either eager colt could trigger an expensive avalanche, he rejoined Twilight Velvet and Sunny for a quick gelato at a roadside vendor. Out of necessity, the little colts were fed first before he even got a bite, and he listened politely as Sunny bemoaned her lack of spending money while helping to feed Dusk and Dawn. It was probably by intent that her father had not passed along any funds for her purchases, although Green Grass was fairly sure there were not enough loose bits in all of Griffonstania for her to buy everything she wanted before they had to quit shopping. They were just getting packed back up to meet Twilight at the train station when his eyes brightened at the sight of Night Light’s dark blue coat wending through the crowds to their table. “Night Light, sir,” he said with a short bow that bounced the two colts on his back with a delighted squeal. “Going to wait at the train station with us for Twily and the girls?” “No,” he said brusquely, using his magic to lift the colt carrier off Green Grass’ back and settling it on his own. “The Wingmaster has declared negotiations to be over, and as soon as you get Sunny back to the castle, he will be returning to his aerie to discuss possible actions with his advisors.” “That’s Great-Uncle Thunderclap and Great-Aunt Downdraft,” said Sunny with an effortless bound over to Green Grass’ recently-freed back. “Can’t I stay just a little longer?” “I’d like to say yes,” started Green Grass with a pained wince, ignoring the stern look he got from Night Light. “But I’m running out of unpunctured skin on my back, and we really don’t want to keep him waiting. I would be honored to carry you back to the castle, Princess Sun Shines, so that I might meet your grandf—” The tutor came to an abrupt halt at Night Light’s look of muted fear, but was unable to think of anything to say before Sunny cheered, grabbed his mane, and began to steer. “You can meet Grandfather! You’ll love him. Onward, my faithful steed. Bye Dawn! Bye Dusk! Bye Twilight! Bye Mister Twilight! I’ll come by next time my father visits Canterlot, and I’ll show you how I can fly!” To the cheers of the two little unicorns, Green Grass allowed himself to be steered in the direction of the castle, with Friday trotting along behind. I’ve met three… no, four princesses now, and I’m on my way to meet a king. Admittedly, a king of only about a hundred griffons, but I still need to be on my best behavior for this meeting. The lives of hundreds of crystal ponies, as well as Shining Armor and Princess Cadence could be on the line. I just wish there was a place where I could throw up before the meeting. * * * “Where in Tartarus were you?!” bellowed the gigantic griffon, towering over Green Grass like an adult over a young colt. Sunny’s grandfather was one of the few griffons who not only could look Celestia in the eye, but was perfectly willing to go beak-to-nose with her. Despite his slightly larger than average build, a shorter earth pony like Green Grass had to look up at the fierce predator, and for the first time in many years, he was starting to wish he had a horn like his unicorn relatives. At least it would keep the griffon a few inches farther away. “Your granddaughter and I were—” “Corrupting my baby princess! She practically reeks of your filthy city! Had I known you were nothing but a dirt pony, I would have never—” “Grand-père!” snapped the little griffon, rushing across the floor only to be held back by her father’s quickly-spread wings. Clearing his throat, Ambassador Sharp Feather stepped up to the Wingmaster’s side and addressed Green Grass formally in Equestrian. “His Highness would like to express his gratitude for your service to the Misty Mountains Aerie, although he would have preferred you to keep Her Royal Highness, Princess Sun Shines, within the castle grounds.” Green Grass carefully moved his gaze from the huge, angry griffon down to the calm-looking ambassador, trying not to think about just how quickly the bigger griffon’s razor-sharp beak could sever his spinal cord. “Thank you, Your Excellency,” he began in Equestrian, trying to watch Sunny’s father without looking up at her grandfather. “It was no problem at all. Your daughter is a paragon of politeness and joy, and her company is welcome at my portion of House Chrysanthemum at any time.” The ambassador did not directly react, although his eyes did track down slightly as if to double-check that the griffon under his wing was indeed his own daughter, and there had not been a switch. Her grandfather had no such reluctance. “My granddaughter will never visit your pestilent city again as long as I live. We have endured these prattling idiots long enough, let us be off. Begone, worm.” The huge griffon nodded at the door, and his son-in-law began to leave before Green Grass held up a hoof, feeling very unstable with only three hooves underneath him. “Before you leave, I have a gift for the little princess.” He dug into his bags, producing the glittery snow globe and beginning to hoof it over before the Wingmaster darted forward much faster than his bulk would seem to allow. “No pony is going to give my grandchild anything!” snapped the older griffon, striking out with a wing and knocking the snow globe into the wall in a splash of splintered glass and sparkling glitter. He stood there in shock for a moment, seeing the small, terrified eyes of Sunny as she huddled under her father’s wing. It seemed as if she were hiding from Green Grass just as much as she was hiding from her own grandfather. The memories of this day would be carried by the young griffon through her entire life, no matter how long or short it was, and it burned at his heart to think of her remembering his hometown of Canterlot in fear. “No,” he heard his voice say as Green Grass looked up into the eyes of the angry griffon towering over him. “Your granddaughter will take several important gifts home with her regardless of your wishes.” Despite the growing ruffle in the elderly griffon’s crest, Green Grass maintained his eye contact and continued. “She will remember her time spent with Princess Celestia, a wise and kind ruler who treats every creature she meets with respect. She will remember Princess Luna, who would not express her anger at your outrageous demands out of respect for you, but instead left to vent her anger elsewhere. She will remember her time spent with two small colts who saw her not as some predator, but as friends.” He stopped, staring into those huge amber eyes while trying not to think of fish. “What about you?” growled the griffon, leaning forward so his beak touched Green Grass’ forehead and pushed his hat backwards. “Me? I’m just a little nothing tutor, who makes his living teaching young unicorns how to create their first magic. Escorting your granddaughter was a great honor, sir. And I would be more than pleased to do it again on your next trip to Canterlot, or if I should happen to visit your nest.” Short gusts of air blew down his mane as the Wingmaster breathed, so close that it felt as if he could read his predator mind deciding if biting his furry green neck in half would be the most effective way of eliminating Green Grass, or if he were just to lunge forward and allow him to die of fright. Finally the huge griffon turned to leave without a backwards glance, scooping up his granddaughter and dropping her on his back. Sunny looked backwards only once with an untranslatable expression on her feathered face as she passed beyond the doorway. Her father stayed behind a moment, perhaps to see if Green Grass were going to expire abruptly, causing some sort of minor diplomatic incident. With a quick check out the door to make sure the Wingmaster had taken his granddaughter out of earshot, Green Grass dug around in his bags and brought out the other snow globe he had bought earlier. In Griffon, he squawked and chirped, “Ambassador How Sharp The Edge Of Slicing Feathers Are During A Dive Upon Prey, I would like to give you this as a gift to remember your visit to my beloved city. You may let your daughter look at it, but I ask that you not disobey the Wingmaster’s wishes by giving it to her in my stead.” The griffon took the glass globe and shook it, looking at the swirling white flakes inside in a rather bored manner. “A twenty bit snowglobe? Not quite a gift for royalty, now is it? And please do not use our noble tongue in that manner. I am not some uncultured wild barbarian who has never left his mountain.” “Ah,” said Green Grass, thankfully switching back to Equestrian. “You are correct. It is not a gift for royalty, and since you are not royalty, it is therefore appropriate. Princess Sun Shine’s mother, may she fly forever in the Eternal Peaks, was royalty, and her daughter has need of companionship far more than any material items.” The ambassador’s eyes narrowed, and his talons tightened on the snow globe, but he did not respond. Green Grass maintained eye contact as he continued bluntly, “She needs her father. She needs friends. Loneliness may be the curse of royalty, but you cannot evade the pain of loss you feel for her mother by avoiding your daughter. Think of that when you look on the snow globe, and take time for her.” The griffon broke eye contact to shake the snow globe, watching the tiny flakes of white fall on the pony silhouette while the shadowed moon looked down from above. “If the only meaning of this gift is to remind me to spend time with my daughter, that is barely sufficient to be accepted. There is no depth of meaning in this other than glass and cheap flakes.” “Ambassador, the meaning behind your gift is not merely a material reminder of your parental duty, but a spiritual wisdom to all griffons that can save many lives. The moon signifies the imprisonment of Nightmare Moon when she threatened the ponies of Equestria. Princess Celestia loved her ponies so much that she placed her own sister within the moon to protect them.” “Very well, then.” The middle-aged griffon tapped the glass globe with one immaculately groomed talon. “What about the pony who sits on the grass and stares up at the moon?” “That represents Princess Celestia, who loved her sister so much that she waited a thousand years for her return. And when the Elements of Harmony cleansed Luna of Nightmare Moon’s taint, Celestia’s first action was to beg forgiveness from her sister for her actions. You will never go wrong if you can truly understand the love our princesses have for each other and their ponies. We know it, and that is why we love them both so much in return.” “Hmmm.” The griffon played with the globe before tucking it under one wing and bowing fractionally at Green Grass. “Good day, Lord Green Grass. May your wings never falter.” “Good day, Ambassador. May your horn never bend or break, and have a pleasant and peaceful trip home.” Green Grass remained standing without fainting as the ambassador departed, headed out the door and back to their ambassadorial quarters where they would soon return to their mountain home. The light tread of hoofsteps behind him was a relief, for Friday Haystings had stayed out of the room during the confrontation at his request, and certainly would have a few pithy words of criticism about his master’s suicidal behavior. “Well, Friday,” he started with a sigh, still unwilling to turn around for fear his legs would collapse. “Do you think my father would have been proud of the way I comported myself around the ambassador? He has always said I should have more experience with royalty, but I’m not quite sure that is what he meant.” “We think thou hast done just fine,” said a soft voice behind him that most certainly was not Friday, unless he had recently changed genders, grown wings and decided to take up a hobby of raising the moon. Princess Luna stepped lightly around his side, giving his flank an uncomfortably long look as she circled around him. It only took two circles around the tutor before his nerve broke and he asked, “What did— I mean, how may I be of service to you this evening, Princess Luna?” “You are not the young colt we spoke with over a year ago now,” started Luna, still circling Green Grass in a shark-like fashion. “Canst thou remember our words from then?” “Y-you asked what insights I had into what you had told me.” All too late, Green Grass remembered how protocol demanded he sink to his knees in the presence of his princess, but with the current state of his knees, he wasn’t sure they would hold him for anything less than a full face-plant onto the cold marble tiles. He decided to remain standing instead, just as long as his legs held out. “And have you any new revelations as to the motivations of my sister and myself?” “N-no.” After some thought and one more circle around him from the Princess of the Moon, Green Grass reconsidered. “Actually two. Your sister said she enjoyed it when ponies achieved their full potential, and she seemed more upset than I realized after our little escapade with sign-painting.” With a deep breath to gather some small shreds of courage that made his shaking knees stabilize, he said, “You desire our trust, and you want us to succeed. In getting better. That is, becoming what we think we can become. Or what we should be able to… Growth!” The slow tap of shod hooves faded and grew in his hearing, and he swore he could feel the individual hairs of his winter coat begin to detach and fall to the floor. The hoofsteps circled around his right side again, but when he looked, it was only Friday. “May I help you, sir? A quick glance around showed no Princess of the Night, only a suspiciously open doorway behind him and the horrible itching in his mind as he tried to figure out if he had ever seen Princess Luna and Friday Haystings at the same time. Taking a deep breath, he addressed his solemn-looking valet with the most important issues first. “Actually, yes. I have a few things. Did you get the Observatory reserved for this evening?” “Yes, sir. Princess Luna sends her thanks.” “I bet she does. Second, could you pack a dinner for two, bottle of wine, some desserts, and a selection of combs. It’s going to be a long night, with or without her.” “Actually the young miss has just recently arrived with her friends, and should be at the castle shortly. Will you be attending the reception and musical number?” “She made it back?” Resisting the urge to look out the window to check for an incoming changeling invasion or attacking dragon, Green Grass sucked on his bottom lip in thought. “Friday, may I ask you a question?” “You just did, sir.” “Right.” Making a mental note that being more specific with his responses to Luna also counted towards certain sarcastic servants who shared her sense of humor, he tried again. “In your personal, not professional opinion, would my presence at Twilight’s return to Princess Celestia be a benefit to her, or a detriment?” Friday made to answer and paused with his mouth partially open, the most taken aback Green Grass had ever seen the elderly servant. After nearly a minute of uncomfortable thoughtful expressions and more than a few eye-rolls, he sighed and responded, “Perhaps it would be for the best if you were to miss this one, sir. She was reportedly quite stressed when the Princess gave her the assignment, to the point of a spontaneous duet that broke out on the southwestern wall of the palace.” “Really?” “Yes, sir. Her Highness’ reception is expected to be the reprise, with the final refrain to be performed on the train back to Ponyville.” “A three-parter, hmm. Ambitious. Even if she wasn’t stressed as tightly as you said, I probably need more practice before trying anything that complex.” “True, sir. I do believe a few more hours at voice lessons would not be remiss either.” “Thank you, Friday.” “And some choreography lessons.” “Thank you, Friday.” “Perhaps if you were to practice an etude or two as your music instructors had suggested—” “Friday?” “Yes, sir?” “Lastly, I’m going to need your help getting upstairs to my room. Because the minute I move one hoof, I’m going to fall over. “Right you are, sir. Just lean on me and pretend you have heavily imbibed.” “Just stress poisons, worry, and tea, Friday.” “Capital idea, sir. I shall have a tea service placed within the Observatory for your convenience this evening, sir. As well as ice cubes, for your barbaric practices with the noble beverage.” > Ch. 9 - Time > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Traveling Tutor and the Diplomat’s Daughter Time There’s always time. — H. G. Wells The suite balcony was perfectly quiet as Green Grass reclined in a chaise lounge, spending his last few minutes of the day looking at the sunset. It always felt as if Celestia appreciated sunsets more than sunrises from the way the sun seemed to pause at the horizon and wreath the world in gold, red and heliotrope smears of clouds. The distant sounds of singing from below had died away some time ago, the unmistakable chorus of six happy friends and one dragon that he could never perfectly harmonize alongside. He no longer felt as if he were attempting to steal Twilight Sparkle away from them, even if it were possible. Instead, he felt a changing in his self, as if there were a square hole that needed a square peg, and the universe was busily squaring his corners and rounding off any bumpy bits that would not fit. It was probably inevitable. Ponies changed, ponies were born, they lived, they died. Even Celestia was not immune to the forces of change. It was pure folly to think his own shedding green hide would be immutable, although he always had thought there would be some role for his own input into his fate. No, that was not true. In the long river of his life, he had influenced the course of his flow around many turbulent rocks and curves, but when two rivers merged, a different river was formed. If he had not wished for this to happen, it would not have. Quite the contrary, he had fought fiercely for the position he was in now just as Twilight had fought through princesses and chaotic gods for her rightful place in the universe. She had blessed him with her decision; it would be an act of craven cowardice to retreat from a similar blessing on his part, no matter the cost. But just as he would be a coward for retreating, he could not muster the strength to charge ahead. Yet. Time. It all rotated around time. It would take time for Luna’s changes to the postal service to take place, time should make Twilight and her friends’ frantic trips into chaos more manageable, and both of their lives would become more predictable as time flowed onward. They had time, both to spend together, and to allow the world to catch up with them. A faint shuffling noise filtered in from the suite behind him, a sound of bags being dragged in and dropped in the middle of the floor indicating the long-delayed arrival of his marefriend. A faint, “Will that be all, Ma’am?” from her guard and the clunk of a door vaguely irritated him in his peaceful moment of artistic appreciation, although the presence that filled the balcony behind him soon after made the emotion vanish away like fog before the sun. Two purple hooves covered his eyes from behind, and a soft voice whispered into his ear. “Guess who?” Suppressing a giggle, he responded, “I’m sorry Princess Luna, but we can’t play any more of those games this evening. Twilight will be home at any moment.” One hoof tapped him gently upside the head as the laugh that he appreciated so much echoed through the balcony. “No, silly. Second guess. Win, and you get a kiss.” “Well, that’s easy then. Flash Sentry, the best kisser in the entire Royal Guard.” “What?” The gentle knock on the back of his head was scarcely more than a rustle, and barely parted his mane, although it did knock his hat over his eyes. “Where did you hear that?” “Would you believe Shining Armor told me? Although I’m not sure if he had it direct from the source, or from secondar—” The kiss that followed was anything but restrained, lasting until the sun had been set below the horizon and the moon raised in its place. “Liar.” Twilight Sparkle ruffled his mane and grinned while staying wrapped around the trapped stallion, still reclining on the chaise lounge. “Flash Sentry is the second best kisser in the Royal Guard.” “I am so not touching that line,” murmured Green Grass, kissing her gently on the nose. “Guess what happened to me in the Crystal Empire,” she implored with an extra squeeze to the hug that concealed a faint tremble. “Well, I don’t see a ring. Or wings,” he added with a caress across a feather-free flank. “Very funny. Although,” she purred, curling up in his lap and batting her eyes adorably. “When I was in the Crystal Empire, I just happened to meet the most handsome unicorn stallion.” “Eligible?” Although he knew Twilight was just teasing him, there was still a small corner of his heart that held fear. A very small corner that shrank every month in her presence. “Tall, dark, powerful and mysterious. Immortal.” She curled up on his chest, feeling much like Sunny for a moment, only much warmer and without the talons. Until she whispered into his ear. “He has the most enormous—” Twilight breathed the next word as if it were made of pure chocolate “—library.” Fighting a tremor that raised goosepimples up one leg, he managed to grin in response. “When’s the wedding?” “Never! We kicked his flank all the way back into the mountains!” With another brief kiss on his lips, she grinned and waggled her eyebrows. “Did I have you worried?” “Nope. I’ve got something I know he doesn’t have.” Kissing her way up his neck, she murmured, “Oh, I’m pretty sure he has one of those too. Just about all stallions have— Phhtft!” While Twilight tried to get some shed hairs off her tongue, Green Grass struck as heroic a pose as he could while trapped on his back. “I happen to have reservations for the entire evening for the castle Observatory. And supplies,” he continued, reaching underneath the chaise lounge and patting a large basket Friday had put together at his request before retiring for the evening. “Dinner, a bottle of wine, a few small boxes of excellent chocolate…” Spitting out a purple hair, he continued, “and four different currycombs.” “Oh, you stallion!” Twilight writhed around to lie on her back, causing his stomach to twitch in response as she leaned backwards and tucked her head up under his chin. “Take me, I’m yours.” A subsequent giggle floated loose a few more hairs to drift in the still air of the balcony, both green and purple threads floating in the moonlight. Wrapping his legs around the giggling mare in perfect contentment, they both looked out at the streams of pastel color in the north painting the stars of the darkening night. Despite her relaxed demeanor, knots of tight muscles rubbed against his chest and a low trembling seemed to encompass her entire body, showing the stress she had been subjected to over the last few days. Her body pressing against his chest forced the ring box painfully against his ribs, a twinge of pain that would be so easy to relieve. A single question. All he would have to do is ask. All he would have to do is to add one more stressful item to her already overloaded life in this vulnerable time. “Greenie,” said Twilight Sparkle, pointing out the balcony with one hoof. “If the fate of Equestria depended on how far you could throw me to catch a falling artifact—” “Hypothetically, right?” “Nevermind.” She tunneled in under his chin and blew some shed hair away from her nose. “Why in the world did you decide to reserve the Observatory for tonight? You know Luna keeps the telescope there under a dust jacket during shedding season. Hair wreaks havoc with the lenses and mirrors. Besides, you knew I was coming back this evening.” Green Grass stirred uncomfortably. “Princess Luna granted me a favor for doing a little fledgeling sitting for her today. I thought if you were late returning, I could sit out under the stars, watch the glowing sky, and think of you. And if you were on time—” he shrugged in resignation “—we could watch the sky together.” “You incurable romantic, you.” Twilight kissed him on the cheek, and promptly spit out another green hair. “I always loved being up at the Observatory with Princess Celestia. It’s quiet. Secluded. Very private. Lots of cushions.” Twilight brushed her tail up his side as she slipped off the recliner, heading into the suite to tuck her limited travel supplies into drawers. Her voice echoed back as he got up off the chaise lounge and picked up the basket. “The Princess put up all the girls in the surrounding suites until we go back to Ponyville tomorrow, but Rarity and Fluttershy have Spike out for the evening as a reward. You should have seen him, Greenie. He really saved the day for all of us. I want to tell you all about it once we get to the Observatory. Did you find anything interesting to do while waiting for us?” “Nothing as interesting as what you went through in the Crystal Kingdom, from what you said. It was a very educational two days. I escorted a griffon princess around the city, asked a few questions, did some shopping. ” He sighed, looking out the window at the starlit horizon before closing the door to the balcony. “I bought you a snow globe, but I gave it away.” Twilight giggled in response, putting her saddlebags into the dresser and pushing it closed. “I bought you a snow globe too, but Spike thought it was an exotic candy. It’s been such a chaotic weekend. I think I’ll just scream if I have one more lump of stress dumped on me.” The ring felt like lead in his pocket as Green Grass slipped out of his jacket, hanging it up in the closet before picking up the basket and gesturing to the door. “If m’lady would step this way, I would be greatly pleased if you were to join me for a relaxing, dull and uneventful night of stargazing— phutooy!” He spit out another hair and wiped his tongue on a hoof. “And some brushing.” “Brushing sounds good. Very good,” she added, making one circuit around the tutor while swishing her tail in a motion that reminded him uncomfortably of Princess Luna in one of her fey moods. “I itch everywhere, and I’ve been— Oh!” Twilight dashed over to the dresser, pulling out a bottle and a spoon. Pouring herself a spoonful, she took the medicine with a grimace. “You’ve been keeping to the schedule this time?” asked Green Grass with a curious tilt to his head. “Yes, I’ve been very good all month. Now let’s get going before the girls get back. When we get tired of watching the stars...” Twilight levitated one of the brushes out of the basket and ran it down his flanks in a loose cloud of green hairs and quivering hide. “We can see about combing some of this loose hair out of every single inch of our bodies.” The door to the suite closed as the two young lovers departed, the silver beams of moonlight through the suite windows illuminating the bottle of ‘Chill Time’⁽*⁾ sitting on the dresser where Twilight had put the medicine. And the slightly-damp teaspoon which Twilight Sparkle had just used to take it. (*) Chill Time Instructions: Take one tablespoon every evening during the month of estrus for the prevention of symptoms and ovulation. Caution: reduced dosage may only mask the symptoms of estrus without providing pregnancy protection. Always follow label directions. Not responsible for misuse. > Ch. 10 - Epilogue - Extreme Princess Tension (EPT) > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Traveling Tutor and the Diplomat’s Daughter Extreme Princess Tension Life is always a rich and steady time when you are waiting for something to happen or to hatch. — Charlotte Two months later During the day, the doors were always open at Rich’s Bargain Barn as ponies passed in and out in a constant whirl of activity. Ponies from all over the whole Ponyville valley dropped in to shop and pick up critically needed goods, including this week’s sales on carrot sharpeners and rutabaga peelers. But at night, even despite the new Open 24 Hours For Your Convenience policy, the doors remained closed, and only the strange and unexpected happened in the shadowed aisles. Or at least that was the opinion held by one of their cashiers, Amethyst Star, or Sparkler to her friends. It was taking a lot of bits to reach her goal of running a jewelry store in Canterlot, but one bit at a time, she was making progress. Sparkler’s Sparkles had quite a ring to it, particularly if she could talk Equestria’s newest princess into letting her use the logo of a totally generic tourmaline star symbol that just happened to match the one on her Royal flanks. With that goal in mind, Sparkler had applied for the night shift at the Barn in the hopes of raising a few more bits for her destination of fame, glory, and a lifetime of selling precious sparkly gems in expensive settings. She should have been suspicious when Filthy Rich had hired her the moment she dropped off her application, but she learned quickly. The first night she had worked, she found out that the only reason Mister Rich kept the store open at night was because his spoiled daughter had once needed a box of cough drops in the middle of the night. Once the sun went down and the vast majority of the staff had gone home (less one junior checker), the store was empty and the doors remained closed, which meant nopony, nowhere, noplace except for Coat Check the night stocker, who normally completed his task and departed around midnight. On the second night, she brought her Geology books to the cash register station, and spent the dark and quiet hours until dawn exploring the mysteries of geodes and concretions. Over the next few nights, it turned into quite a win-win relationship. With few distractions such as her darling little sister trying to ‘help’ with her studies, she finally made good progress on her mail-order classes in Advanced Geomorphic Structures and Thaumaturgical Mineral Interactions. On the rare occasion when a sleepy customer came in, she could happily trot along with them to find any emergency cold medications or plumbing fittings they needed, check out their purchases, and return to her studies refreshed and renewed. She even got to spend some precious time with Twilight Sparkle, Ponyville’s newest (and only) princess, who had a tendency to come stumbling in during the middle of her own late-night study session after discovering a shortage of coffee or paper during a critical bit of midnight research. Sometimes after picking up her purchase, she even stayed to look over Sparkler’s work and exchange spell tips. Despite her occasional scatterbrained moments, Twilight (as she preferred to be called) was a limitless genius in the field of magical endeavors, and could comprehend at a glance even the most complicated mineral metamorphical spell that would confound Sparkler for days. Fortunately for Sparkler’s ego, Twilight was totally clueless when it came to other complicated and intricate problems, such as young stallions. It was a sure sign of at least an hour’s worth of study break when a rather rumpled princess would shuffle through the doors, as had just happened tonight. It was almost two hours before the start of the morning shift, nearly the time when her mother, Ditzy Doo, would stop by to bring her daughter a quick breakfast snack. The doors to the store gave their cheery little jingle, and at the sound of the bell, Sparkler looked up from her studying, but instead of her mother holding a bag of fresh muffins, there was a troubled purple alicorn stopped only part-way through the entrance doors. Princess Twilight Sparkle paused, glanced in both directions as if stuck, and stammered before speaking. “S-sorry!” Twilight blurted out, vanishing out into the darkness as the door closed behind her. Sparkler swallowed, wiping her chin and taking her bookmark back out of the book where she had automatically stuck it in a Pavlovian reflex to the bell. The reaction bothered her sometimes, and particularly since Dinky had discovered that she could get her big sis to react in that fashion. It wouldn’t be so bad if Dinky hadn’t brought the rest of her little school friends by to show what happens when she rings a bell. At least they all got good grades in that section of their history test. The bell jingled again, and Sparkler looked up, only to see the door slowly close again. This time she sat the books to one side and got up, moving to the door as quietly as possible so when it swung open yet one more time, Twilight Sparkle yelped in surprise at the sight of Sparkler grinning at her from just a hoof’s length away. “Stallion trouble, Twilight?” “No!” yelped Twilight in a panic-driven flurry of feathers. “How did you know!” She whirled in place, looking at the silhouette of the library tree in the distance. “Did Spike tell you? No, wait a minute. He couldn't have told you because I haven’t told him and I don’t even know for sure yet. Which I don’t. Know, that is. No.” “So…” started Sparkler. “You’re just here for some late-night shopping?” Twilight Sparkle grinned, a fake and insincere twisting of the facial muscles that seemed driven by panic and raw nerves instead of anything pleasurable. “Shopping!” she blurted out, her magic yanking a wire cart out of the collection and floating it in front of her. “Midnight shopping!” she added, quite unnecessarily while pushing into the store and vanishing down one of the aisles at a dead run. Smile. Nod. Save a muffin from breakfast so you can bribe Spike for the details later. For a moment, Sparkler considered trying to track down the nervous alicorn inside the store, which would not have been difficult considering the clattering and muttering that followed her path. More intelligent brain cells vetoed the idea, pointing out that there was only one way out of the store without setting off the fire alarms or teleporting, and that since she was buying things, Princess Twilight Sparkle most certainly would also be paying for them before trotting out the doors. She slipped her school books under the counter to eliminate a potential evasion path in the anticipated upcoming conversation, and plotted out a few possible introductory phrases while waiting. It took a while, but one of the first lessons she had learned from her magic teacher was patience. Attempting to cut a gemstone without properly setting down and considering all of the ways things could go wrong was just begging for a disaster, and trying to stop an alicorn on a mission would be like putting a ten thousand caret fire ruby on the floor and throwing a rock at it. Actually, come to think of it, Green Grass was scheduled to return to Ponyville in a few days. If anypony knew what was twisting Twilight Sparkle’s tail into a knot, it was him. Even discounting Twilight’s somewhat odd behavior, there was certainly something weird going on in Ponyville. Well, weirder than normal. Mom had been flying letters almost nonstop between Ponyville and Wheaton over the last week, and Pinkie Pie seemed to be stocking up for a siege. Even Dinky and the rest of her teacher’s young magic class had been roped into security for what was called ‘Operation Important Announcement’ over at Gustav’s Restaurant in a few days, which seemed to be— A mental hammerblow like a thunderbolt nailed Sparkler’s hooves to the checkout lane’s floor. It had been months since she had helped Green Grass pick out the perfect engagement ring, way back before Twilight had grown wings and even before Princess Mia Amore Cadenza’s wedding! No wonder she had not heard anything about an engagement yet. Only a complete blithering idiot would have waited this long before proposing. Or allowed herself to wait this long. Maybe those two do deserve each other. It was completely silent in the store now, and Sparkler frantically revised her planned conversational starters. Somehow, asking “Has your coltfriend given you that engagement ring yet?” did not really seem like a good idea for anypony in a few mile radius, particularly if the answer was “No.” Then again, in order to have a conversation with Twilight Sparkle, it would require both of them to be present in the same spot. The rattle and clatter of fast-moving alicorn in the store had died down to complete silence, which was a bad sign, but Sparkler looked around until she spotted a small bit of purple in the pharmacy section. There was just the tiniest tip of her tail sticking out from behind a display of boxes, twitching in short motions much like the beating of a nervous heart, and after considering just what product Twilight was looking at, Sparkler decided it would be best to give her some more time to make her decision. After waiting a respectable amount of time, and then waiting yet another respectable amount of time, and finally just counting down ten minutes of painful silence, Sparkler quietly walked over to where Twilight Sparkle was regarding the boxes. “Twilight? Can I help you?” “Um… Yes. I need to make a decision.” All of the panic-prone alicorn flurry was gone now, replaced by a sharp tension in the bookish librarian that even made the air around her seem to twang with tight nerves. The pupils of her eyes had expanded out into huge limpid pools of darkness, quite different than the pinpoints of panic that Sparkler had expected, and her breathing had slowed to the deliberate in-and-out of the benevolently tranquil or forcefully tranquilized. Two boxes floated off the display in Twilight’s violet magic and were placed on a nearby table with all the care and caution of transporting fine crystal. “This is a very important decision. The most important one I’ve ever faced in all of my years since I was the Princess’ student. I would ask my friends, but I don’t think any of them has the experience to help with this kind of decision except for Pinkie Pie, and she’s probably making breakfast muffins at Sugarcube Corner. I can’t be wrong this time. I’m a princess now, and the decisions I make can affect hundreds, if not thousands of other ponies. But I can do this. I can make this decision.” There was a long pregnant pause as Twilight breathed in and out, and Sparkler reconsidered her decision on a secondary profession. One purple hoof pointed. “This one says results in just one minute.” The purple hoof trembled as it pointed to a second box. “This one says ninety-nine percent accurate.” “Actually,” said Sparkler with more intense examination of the boxes, “they’re both under a minute and just as accurate, they just each print different sections in larger print.” There was a second long, pregnant pause. “Should I buy both?” asked Twilight Sparkle in a somewhat distant voice. “I mean… Just to be sure.” Sparkler was saved from having to respond by the solid whump of a fast-moving body hitting the front door of the store, followed by a familiar, “Whoops. My bad.” The gentle tinkle of the door bell followed, as well as her mother calling out, “Sorry, Sparkler! The door was closed.” “Back here, mom!” she called back, feeling a wave of relief sweep over her as her mother hurried up with a warm hug and a paper bag filled with a fresh-cooked breakfast for her late-working daughter. This actually was a decision more in line with Ditzy’s experiences in motherhood and parenting, and Sparkler was more than happy to pass it on. “Mom, can you help Twilight with picking out one of these—” Sparkler paused, trying not to laugh, because it really was not the kind of thing you were supposed to laugh about, particularly when a friend was asking, and doubly-so when that friend had both wings and a horn. “That’s easy,” said Ditzy, picking up one of the boxes. “This one.” “Oh,” said Twilight, lifting the box out of Ditzy’s hooves with her magic and examining it closely. “Does it have a higher accuracy rate, or a different alchemical process?” “No, it’s pink. If you want a filly, you want a pink one.” While Twilight absorbed that bit of experienced motherly advice, Ditzy kissed her daughter on the cheek and trotted back out of the door on the way to her mail delivery job. Sparkler thought for a moment about how easily her mother had taken to raising a powerful little unicorn filly by herself, and mentally multiplied the difficulty that Twilight was potentially facing, even with help. And she’s going to need all the help she can get. Sparkler put on a friendly smile and eyed the collection of random items Twilight had thrown in her basket in her panic-driven flight through the store. “Would you like me to put those back after you check out?” Twilight stood staring off into the distance for a while. “Yes. Please.” Once the young alicorn princess had gotten her purchase — carefully wrapped in a brown paper bag and taped closed so it would not inadvertently open on the way back to her library home — she turned for the door, vanishing outside into the darkness with a cheerful jingle of the bell again. It took a while for Sparkler to find where all of the inadvertent items went and return them to the proper shelves, but as she settled back down at the cash register with her geology books, she could not help but look at the front door of the store and smile. Looks like that ring is going to get put to good use after all. Much later, as the glow of a new dawn was beginning to show and Sparkler was deep in the chapter on forced geological crystal formation through magical intervention, she had almost put the recent events out of her mind. Until there was a quiet thump at the store’s front door. At first, she thought it was just the morning breeze, but the thump repeated. Opening the door revealed Princess Twilight Sparkle standing in the soft glow of pre-dawn as the early morning traffic of Ponyville began to quietly stir in the distance. She looked even more stressed than before, with ill-preened feathers sticking up from her wings and dark bags under her eyes. “Can I help you, Twilight?” asked Sparkler. “Yes. No. Actually… Here.” Twilight pushed a large bag of bits over to Sparkler before the entire display of boxes from before glowed with her magic and assembled at the panicked princess’ side. She hesitated, shifting from one hoof to another and acting as if she were on the threshold of more informative words, then darted out the store doorway and galloped at full speed in the direction of her distant library, the cloud of boxes trailing along in her wake. Sparkler just stood there and watched, following Twilight’s rapid progress through town until she vanished into the library with an explosive slam of the door that could even be heard at this distance. Ponyville had always been a small town in the middle of large changes, and it looked like another dramatic change was on its way in a few months. From princesses to manifestations of pure chaos, parasprites and giant space-bears, Twilight Sparkle had been at the center of them all, and strange as it seemed, the small town had always turned out the better for it. Now something else brand new to Equestria was taking place, and Sparkler actually found herself looking forward to it. News like this could not be kept secret as Twilight and Greenie had thought their relationship could be hidden. Whatever had happened behind the closed doors of the library was about to spill out all over town, and Equestria would never be the same again. Princess Sunny's story continues in Diplomacy by Other Means, a considerably darker tale of assault, murder, and the darkness that lies within the soul. Four diplomats travel to the Misty Mountain aerie to prevent war, and wind up in an escape and a fight to the death. Green Grass and Twilight Sparkle's story continues in The Traveling Tutor and the Royal Exam, which is also located on the FimFiction.net site. A simple test with an unexpected result sends Princess Twilight Sparkle’s life in an unexpected direction, accelerating a high-speed collision course with the young magic tutor she met and fell in love with just over a year ago. But angry Griffons, arrogant Royals, in-laws and other mighty forces from Canterlot and beyond seek to tear the young lovers apart and enforce their own will upon their future regardless of either Twilight or Green Grass’ plans for a life together. Too bad for them.