> A Turnabout in Kind
>  by alexmagnet
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue: Glimpses of Intrigue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“My Equestrian brothers and sisters, I cannot thank you enough for your generosity.”
          
The voice was deep, formal, and full of authority. It was the sort of voice that naturally made her timid, the sort of voice that would command attention—especially among a gathering of the elite. Indeed, it was doing that job quite well; the ponies all around her stared with rapt attention at the speaker.
          
Fluttershy, however, needed to find Rarity.
          
“In my homeland, it is rare for so many to be so hospitable, for there to be such great bounty in both food and friendship.”
          
She slipped between the wide dresses of two mares, muttering a slight apology. No, Rarity wasn’t here, either—at least, not as far as she could tell. It was so dark, she could barely see! Oh, why did they have to turn out the lights for this?
          
“It is the tradition of my people, when given gifts, to reciprocate in full.”
          
“Um, excuse me, have you seen my friend Rarity?” Fluttershy recoiled as the top-hatted stallion turned away in a huff. She turned to another mare. “Sorry, this probably isn’t the best time, but—”
          
“You have shared your culture with us, now allow us to do the same. We will start, as all things do, at the beginning.”
 
She backed away from the mare’s annoyed look, wincing slightly. This wasn’t working. This wasn’t working at all! Maybe if she just—

Her thoughts ground to a halt as she backed right into somepony. She spun around, another apology ready on her lips, but then she got a look at the stallion in question.
 
He wore a burgundy tailcoat and red puff tie. His maroon mane was pulled back into a small tail, save the two swept bangs framing his horn. His amber eyes looked down at her in annoyance, and with a flicker of recognition.
 
Fluttershy recognized him too. “Ah! You’re—”
 
“Miss… Buttersky, was it?” He brushed his coat with the back of his hoof. “You need to watch where you’re going.”
 
“Oh, um, sorry.” She shook her head. “No, wait! Please, you have to help me! I’m trying to find my friend Rarity, and I don’t know where she is!”
 
He chuckled. “This sounds distinctly like something that is not my problem.”
 
“This first piece is one as old as the Republic itself. It is one of our finest and most sacred treasures.”
 
“Please! Can you just tell me if you’ve seen her anywhere?”
 
“I believe your friend made it clear that she never wanted to see me again. I share her sentiment.” He pointed his hoof. “Now, if you’ll please step aside, I’m trying to watch.”

“Behold!”
 
A bright light snapped on overhead, and a collective gasp rippled through the crowd, breaking into the sound of mesmerized murmuring. Fluttershy turned, her gaze falling on the pedestal in the center of the room, and the treasure nested there.
          
It was a gorgeous gem—a ruby, huge and shining. Its surface glistened with moisture, rivulets of red-tinged water dripping down its cracked and channeled surface until they soaked into the silk beneath it.
          
“This, my ladies and gents, is the Bleeding Heart. It is the heart of a great frost wyrm, taken by one of our nation’s founders in hallowed antiquity. I encourage all of you to get close so you may feel its natural coldness. But first, the story behind—”
          
There was a crack, a shower of sparks. The ponies around her yelped as the lights suddenly died. Fluttershy ducked on reflex, shimmying out of the way as a stallion nearly tripped over her. The crowd surged back, away from the Heart, and as the mass of ponies parted, she saw why.
 
A figure had appeared on the pedestal, and it held the Bleeding Heart above its head for all to see. Looks of shock and confusion spread across the assembled ponies. All those save Fluttershy, who recognized the figure immediately.
 
A purple suit. A flowing blue cape. A wide-brim hat, above a featureless mask.
          
“M-Mare Do Well?!”

> 1 — Morning Machinations
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Fluttershy! Fluttershy, dear, wake up!”

Like an especially rude pair of squirrels after her almond cookies, wakefulness forced its way under Fluttershy’s eyelids. The glare of the sun followed, and, like the tails of those squirrels, caused her to squint as it entered her eyes. She held a hoof in front of her face to try and stave off the fuzziness filling her vision. Blinking a few times, she caught sight of a curly-maned silhouette in front of the window.

“Rarity?”

“Yes indeed!” The light reflecting off her grin blinded Fluttershy. “Come along now, we’ve got a lot to prepare for tonight!”
        
Fluttershy’s mane fell in front of her eyes as she sat up. “What time is it?” She asked, punctuating the sentence with a tiny yawn.

“Time to get up, of course! Things to do! Chop, chop!” A brush flew from a nearby vanity as Rarity lifted it up and began shunting Fluttershy’s bangs out of the way.
 
“Okay.” Another yawn, and she took hold of the brush herself. “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”
 
“Breakfast is in five.” Rarity began prancing toward the door. “Hurry, now! Or else it’ll get cold!” With a twirl and a spark of her horn, she left the room. Fluttershy could hear her exclaim something like “Today’s the day!” before she trailed off into an extended squeal of joy. 
 
Alone at last, Fluttershy took a bleary look around. It was never easy, sleeping away from home—waking up in a different environment even more so. It was getting easier, though; the silken curtains, the plush carpets, and the lavender walls were no longer alien. And if she was perfectly honest, she was even getting used to the extra-cushy bed and multiple pillows.

Of course, she still hadn’t gotten used to the view outside. With her eyes now adjusted, Fluttershy could see the white walls of a courtyard, the ordered tiles of a manor roof, and the soaring towers of Canterlot, gleaming in the morning light. The distant sounds of a city in motion filled her ears, while the smell of flowers growing in the garden below filled her nose. A pair of birds flew past the window, chirping the whole way.

It’s strange, to have nature surrounded by the city like this.

But then, this was Canterlot, a city all about being beautiful. And this was the home of Fancy Pants, who had a taste for the “charmingly rustic.” And if she was being perfectly honest, it was quite a bit nicer than, say, Manehatten.

Still, it wasn’t quite home, despite her and Rarity’s—mostly Rarity’s—best efforts. They’d brought plenty of things from Ponyville, had decorated this guest room with familiar photos, familiar perfumes, and one familiar pet.

“Good morning, Opal,” Fluttershy said to the cat, who was lying atop Rarity’s bed in a square of sunlight.

Opalescence looked up, gave Fluttershy a level stare, and yawned.

“Yes, it’s morning already.” She slipped from under the covers, stepping over to the bay window and looking outside once again. “And it’s a beautiful day.”

Opal stood, spun in place to pat down the blanket, and lay back down with her back to the sun.

“A beautiful day. Just a terrific day. The big day!” She swept a hoof in a wide arc above her head. “Where we get to spend all day getting ready to spend all night with ponies I’ve never met before.” A shiver made its way up her leg at that thought.

She spun around, showing off an over-wide grin. “Won’t that be ever-so-much fun, Opal?”

Opal spared her one look over her shoulder, then settled back into the covers with a feline grunt.

“My thoughts exactly.” Fluttershy sighed.



	

The wooden steps creaked slightly as Fluttershy descended them, despite her instinctive efforts at being as quiet as possible. A delicious smell met her at the bottom; it wafted along the opulent hallways as though beckoning her with outstretched hooves. She recognized it immediately, her mouth beginning to water.

A quick, light trot brought her to a set of rich wooden doors, and across their threshold, she found a high-ceilinged dining hall. Candelabras adorned the red walls, a coat of arms hung over a grand fireplace at the far end of the room, and a gilded chandelier hung over a long table of rich hardwood.

Seated at the table was Rarity, who currently had a cup of tea lifted to her lips, and the mustachioed gentlepony who called this place home.

“...And then,” said Fancy Pants, “the Chancellor says with a completely straight face, ‘That may be true, mademoiselle, but I think the goats would still take offense.’”

Rarity nearly spewed her drink across the table, holding a hoof over her grin. Swallowing, she gave a bright laugh. “Oh my! He does sound like a character! You’ll have to introduce me later this evening.”

“Mm. He won’t be here, I’m afraid. He said he’ll have his hooves full with the political entanglements of this whole affair.”

“Oh, that’s a terrible shame. Ah!” She caught sight of Fluttershy in the doorway. “There you are, Fluttershy!”

Fancy Pants looked around at her. “Good morning, Miss Fluttershy! Come, come, your breakfast is still warm and still delicious!”

She gave him a tiny grin. “It certainly smells delicious. Are we having what I think we are?”

“I figured a little taste of home would be the best way to start off today. Blueberry pancakes, hash browns, and daisies over easy.”

Taking her seat, Fluttershy looked over her plate. It all smelled even better up close. “Mmm… Thank you very much, Mr. Pants.”

“Please, Miss. As host I am obligated, but you have no need for the formalities. While under my roof, you can just call me ‘Fancy Pants.’”

“Well, thank you very much, Fancy Pants.” Taking up her utensils, she dug in with dainty bites.

Nodding, Fancy Pants turned back to his unicorn guest. “Now, Miss Rarity, all humor aside, I’m still worried about having too much in one place.”

“Oh, nonsense, it’ll be fine! You said yourself you wanted them to feel at home.”

“Well, yes, but I can’t help but feel as though there may be too much home. Are you sure the main foyer won’t be… overdone?”

“Overdone? Overdone?” Rarity chuckled. “My dear Fancy Pants, perish the thought! You know restraint is one of my greatest qualities.”

Fluttershy swallowed her latest bite of delicious pancake. “I thought you had everything figured out already?”

“Oh, we do.” Rarity waved a hoof across the table. “Fancy Pants is just having second thoughts. A little stage fright before the grand premiere.”

Fancy Pants frowned. “I’m not sure ‘stage fright’ is the proper term. More like, ‘concern for the future of international relations.’”

Rarity gave him a reassuring laugh. “Oh, now you’re just being silly! If the fate of this whole affair rested on how many tapestries we have, we wouldn’t even be here in the first place.”

He sighed. “I know, I know. It’s just…” He gave a furtive glance around, as though worried somepony might be eavesdropping. “These Snowbounders tend to be, well, somewhat uptight.”

Her eyebrow raised. “Oh? I never got that impression from what you showed me.” 

“Pictures only show so much, I’m afraid.” He began tapping his hoof nervously against the table. “The Snowbounders, they’re… well, they have an eye for detail that I’m sure would rival your own, my dear.”

“Well, now I can’t wait to meet them!”

That produced a grin from Fancy Pants, but it was quickly overshadowed by his furrowed brow. “If something is out of place, or if it isn’t just right, they’ll know. Don’t misunderstand. They’re excessively gracious guests, but they won’t forget missteps.” 

“Fancy Pants.” Rarity fixed him with a even look. “Please, stop worrying. It’s unbecoming of a gentlepony like yourself.”

He let out a tiny sigh. “I just want everything to be perfect for them, and nothing can be out of place. If there’s too much, or too little, anywhere, I want to know so that I may fix it.”

        “No, no. That’s why you have us.” Rarity put a hoof around Fluttershy, startling her enough that she dropped her latest bite. “If there’s anything that needs fixing, we’ll be right on it!”

        “We will?” Fluttershy said.

        “Yes, we will,” whispered Rarity.

        Fancy Pants looked between the two of them, a wide smile finally asserting itself over his features. “What would I do without you, ladies? No, nevermind, I know exactly what I’d do. I’d curl up in a ball and cry.”

        “That would be unbecoming of a gentlepony like yourself.” Rarity chuckled.

        “Indeed. Now, if you’ll excuse me, ladies, I’m going to ball myself up and go rolling around outside. Clear my head, and all that.” Standing, he gave them a bow and made for the door.

        “All right. We’ll finish up here and come find you afterward. Oh, and Fancy Pants!” She planted her forelegs on the table, pointing a hoof at him as he reached the door. “You stay away from the main foyer until we get there! I mean it!”

        He looked aghast, his eyes widening in over-exaggerated shock. “No! You’ve caught me! Please! Avert your accusing hoof!”

        “Not until I have your word.” Rarity smiled a wolfish grin.

        He bowed, low and respectful. “You have it, my lady.”

        “Very well.” She lowered her hoof with a flourish. “Carry on, you rapscallion, you.”

        “By my honor, I am off!” With a swirl of his coattails, he was indeed off.

        “Hah!” Rarity breathed a contented sigh as she sat back down. “This day is off to a lovely start!”

        Fluttershy looked at her. “Um… Rarity, I was just wondering, I mean, not to seem rude or anything, but it seems like you let Fancy Pants go when he seemed really concerned.”

        “Hm? Oh, no, no!” She waved her hoof in dismissal. “It’s like I said, Fluttershy, it’s just stage fright. We’re on the eve of a big event, after all.”

        Fluttershy’s eyes flicked away for a moment. “It’s just, well, I’ve never seen Fancy Pants looking so nervous before.”

        Rarity looked down at her cup of tea. “Yes, I suppose he’s got good reason for it. I don’t envy his being Equestria’s goodwill ambassador, despite all the prestige.” She lifted her cup and took a sip. “Still, we’re here, we have all of our materials, and we have all day to prepare. Goodness knows, this is a far cry from a rush job.”

        Fluttershy paused, considering her next words. All that came out was, “Mmhmm.”

        “What is it, Fluttershy?”

        “Well, Fancy Pants seemed to be kind of… intimidated by the delegation. Could they really be that scary?” Her ears flattened against her head.

        Rarity’s expression softened. “Oh, Fluttershy! Now don’t you start getting nervous on me, too!” She placed a reassuring hoof on her back. “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

        But then, you’ve never met them either… “I hope you’re right, Rarity.”

        “I’m sure I am. Think about it. If this Snowbound Republic were a nation of pony-eating monsters, would they be allowed anywhere close to Canterlot?”

        That’s hardly the point, Rarity. “I guess not…”

        “Exactly! There’s nothing to worry about!” She lowered her hoof and picked up her cup once more. “In fact, look at it this way. It’s a great opportunity to make some new friends.”

Fluttershy turned back to her pancakes. I just hope they are friendly...





        “All right, this one goes up there, that one over there.” Rarity pointed a hoof at the banners on the floor, then to the mezzanine running around the foyer.

        “As you wish, my lady,” said the pair of unicorn maids. Their horns glowing in unison, they hefted one of the banners high. White and black, it was adorned with the image of a winged creature with the hooves of a pony, the paws of a dog, and the head of a griffon.

        As they carefully lifted it over the banister, Rarity continued, “And Fluttershy, if you could hang this one up there.” She pointed a hoof at the window near the peak of the ceiling.

        “Okay, Rarity.” Taking the much smaller tapestry in her teeth, she floated up to the rafters. “Here?” she called back down.

        “Yes, hang it just above the window!”

        Fluttershy did as she was told, setting the deep-blue fabric on a hook. The interior of the foyer dipped into shadow as the light was stifled.

“Are you sure about that one, Miss Rarity?” said Fancy Pants. “It seems to have made things rather dark…”

“Oh, you’ve never seen moon silk in action, Fancy Pants?” Rarity chuckled. “Just wait until after the sun sets and the moonlight cuts through the cloth. Then you’ll see.”

He nodded. “I’ll take your word for it.”

        “In the meantime, though, you can roll that one up, Fluttershy!”

        “Okay!” Gently taking the cloth in her hooves, she hoisted it up like a sailor stowing away a sail. Her task complete, she floated down to ground level and took in the hall in its entirety.

        It was coming along nicely. The room itself was already pleasing to the eyes, with its high ceiling, grand chandelier, and elegant staircase, and Rarity’s modifications only seemed to enhance that beauty. White brocades, glittering in the sunlight, were draped from the upper balustrades, giving the impression of snowcapped peaks far in the distance. The original red rugs had been replaced by fluffy carpeting, mimicking the look of fresh powder. Between those additions and the banners, it was…

        “Just ostentatious enough,” said Rarity with an approving nod.

        “I can’t but agree, Miss Rarity.” Fancy Pants spun in place, sweeping his gaze over everything. “It’s positively radiant.”

        “So, are we satisfied, then?”

        “I believe we are, yes. I don’t doubt our Snowbound guests will be immediately reminded of home.”

        Rarity lifted hoisted up a quill and checklist. “Well, if that’s that, shall we have ourselves a quick rehearsal?”

        “A capital idea. Let’s see… Miss Fluttershy, why don’t you go and stand at the entrance there?”

        Fluttershy floated over to the main doors. “Like this?”

        “Yes, just like that.” Fancy Pants and Rarity stepped up to her. “So, they’ll be coming in through the main doors, there, and we’ll all be standing by to greet them. Go ahead and act as though you’re entering, Miss.”

        Fluttershy looked around sheepishly. “Um… How, exactly?”

        “Oh, come now, Fluttershy,” said Rarity. “Remember strutting down the catwalk for Hoity Toighty? It’s the same sort of thing.”

        “O-okay.” Lifting her head up high, she took a few stiff steps forward. “L-like this?”

        “Yes! Just like that!” said Fancy Pants. “Believe it or not, that’s how the Snowbounders always tend to walk.”

        Seems like that’d be uncomfortable… thought Fluttershy. “So, they come in, and then what?”

        “I’ll have one of my servants announce their arrival to the group at large, of course, and offer a few words in personal greeting. Something like, ‘Ambassador, it is an honor and a privilege to welcome you to Equestria, and to our humble abode.”

        “To which he would reply,” said Rarity, “‘The honor is all mine, Mr. Pants. I graciously accept your hospitality, and place myself and my entourage in your capable hooves.’”

“So, then,” said Fancy Pants, circling around Fluttershy and walking a little further into the foyer, “we’ll proceed through the main hall and into the courtyard… Or should we take them through the gallery first?”

“I should think they’d like to see the gallery,” said Rarity, “but if they’re as… well, terse, as you say, perhaps they’d prefer to get right to the main event.”

“True. And I suppose getting all of the artifacts set up there would be prudent as a first task. Though, on the other hoof, we’ll be needing to get the animals situated as well. Hmm…” He hung his head in thought for a moment, then turned to Fluttershy. “What do you think, Miss?”

She blinked. “Huh? Me?”

“Oh, excuse me. I meant to say, ‘What do you think, Ambassador?’”

“Um…” She pawed at the carpet. “I think I agree with Rarity. I mean, it’ll be better if my work goes last. The courtyard, I mean.”

Fancy Pants looked at her oddly, but shrugged. “So be it. I suppose it lets me show off the manor a little more, anyway. So, we step off from here, and make our way to the left hallway.” They did just that, padding their way toward a doorway set off to the side of the main staircase. “I suppose I’ll have to make some small talk on the way, won’t I?” He cleared his throat. “Well, Ambassador, I trust that meeting with Chancellor Bright Stone went well?”

Fluttershy stared at him, wide-eyed. “Huh?”

“Oh, yes, I suppose I should explain. Before the Snowbounders arrive here, they’ll be having a brief meeting with the Chancellor, just a little welcoming ceremony to get the political machine rolling. After that, it’s on to the cultural exchange we’ve got here.”

“Okay, I see.” She raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Wait. Aren’t they meeting with the Princesses at all?”

“Hm.” Fancy Pants frowned. “Well, that’s the thing. Both the delegation and the Princesses are keeping their distances from one another.”

“I still don’t understand that,” said Rarity. “Why wouldn’t they want to meet the Princesses?”

Fancy Pants shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure myself. All I know is that it’s a mutual feeling. I get the sense that neither party wants to step on the other’s hooves, as it were. This is a delicate situation, politically.”

Rarity shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand politics.”

Do politics really have anything to do with it? “Me neither,” said Fluttershy.

“Well, I hope the politics will be checked at the door,” Fancy Pants, said, chuckling. “Because if I’m perfectly honest, I’m not one for them, either. I’m just in it for the sake of business.”

“Business and good company, I should hope,” Rarity said with a grin.

“Well, that goes without saying. Anyway, once we’re here,” Fancy Pants swept a hoof around the room they now found themselves in, another high-ceilinged affair, its walls adorned with paintings and more black-and-white banners, “we can start the culture sharing in earnest. Let’s see…” He looked at a number of empty pedestals which were scattered around the room. “Just to triple-check, we have enough space for everything they’re bringing, yes?”

Rarity eyed the hall, scanning over the decorations and fixtures with a discerning eye. “Unless they’re bringing enough to fill the Royal Equestrian Art Museum, I think we’ll be quite fine,” she said happily. 

“Hmm… Just to be sure, I think we’d best take down the remaining paintings. I don’t want to distract from the Snowbounders’ own art, after all. Ladies?” he called to his maids. “Put these in the storeroom as well, please.”

The pair curtseyed, and began stripping the walls. Rarity looked back at him with a disappointed expression. “Oh, do they really have to take that portrait of your great-grandfather? I rather liked that one.”

“I’m sure Grandpa Knickers won’t mind. He’s always grumpy, anyway. So, once they’ve had a look at where they’ll be displaying everything, we’ll head for the courtyard.” He turned to Fluttershy. “That’s right this way, Ambassador.”

She picked her head up. “Well, by all means, lead on, Mr. Pants.”

Graciously waving his hoof, Fancy Pants motioned for Fluttershy to take the lead. “It’s just down this hallway, Ambassador. There’s a door that leads outside at the end.” 

“Thank you very much, sir.” A spring in her step, she began trotting ahead.

“Well, look at you!” said Rarity. “I didn’t think you were one to prance, Fluttershy.”

I am when it means going outside. “I don’t do it often,” she said, blushing slightly.

Their path took them around a corner and out onto a well-kept patio overlooking the manor’s garden. It was an enclosed space; the manor’s walls surrounded it on all sides. The walls themselves were covered in leafy vines, reaching up toward the roof’s low-hanging shingles. She could see the window of their guest room on the wall opposite the patio. A large fountain stood in the center, its flow slowly cascading down into a wide pool at its base, and a grand old willow lorded over it. Several hedges cordoned the area into segments, and it was to these their attention now turned.

“So, Ambassador,” said Fancy Pants, “where shall we quarter your creatures?”

Fluttershy leapt forward. “Okay, so I was thinking the bears could go in this lower area here, since it’s low and shaded, which should give the bears a nice cozy den to shelter in. I’ve laid out a comfortable bed of leaves for them to rest on, and set some fresh honey off to the side in case they feel like a snack. The smaller animals we’ll put over here, where the hedges meet the wall. Most of them are burrowers, so the little gaps in between the shrubs will make them feel right at home. The rabbits will go here by the big hedge, the martens by the base of this statue here, and those adorable little pika can go off to this side near the base of the tree. The birds will all be in the tree itself, except for the herons and geese, who will obviously want to be closer to the fountain. Hmm… and come to think of it, we can put the otters a little closer to the water, too.” She spun back to face her companions. “Will that all work?”

Rarity and Fancy Pants shared a glance, before the former spoke. “Well, Fluttershy, it seems you’ve certainly got everything under control on this front. Though, how are you going to keep them all separated like that?”

“Oh, they won’t be. They’ll be free to mingle like the other guests.”

“And you aren’t worried about the… um, ‘cycle of nature’ taking its course?”

She shook her head. “Oh no, no, no. I’ll make sure they all understand not to be mean to each other. And I’ll make sure they all get fed, so there will be no reason for conflict.” She smiled serenely.

“The sentiment is nice, Ms. Fluttershy,” said Fancy Pants, “but don’t be surprised if it doesn’t work out so cleanly. I’m sure our Snowbound guests will require cages.”

Fluttershy’s expression collapsed like an overcooked pastry. “Cages?! But—”

“Now, now, dear,” Rarity cut in with a calming hoof on Fluttershy’s shoulder. “If that’s what it comes to, we’ll do our best to work it out. Compromise, and all that.”

“Indeed,” said Fancy Pants. “A host must cede to his guests’ wishes.”

Even if those wishes are more like demands? Fluttershy hung her head. “Well, if that’s how it has to be… I suppose I can’t do anything about it.” 

“Oh, but you’ve already done so much!” Rarity said. “With the amount of thought you’ve put into the garden here, there’s no way the animals won’t find some comfort. Isn’t that right, Fancy Pants?”

“Ah, er, yes, but of course! Again, whatever happens, we’ll find some way to reconcile things.”

Fluttershy hung her head. “If you say so. I just don’t want any of the animals to think they’re not being cared for and loved enough. That would be terrible.” 

“My dear, given what I know of the Republic’s snowy climes, I think they’ll be grateful just to be out of the cold.” Fancy Pants gave a light chuckle, giving Fluttershy a soft pat on the back. “Really though, I’m sure they’ll be more than fine. Now then, what comes next?”

“I believe that’s that,” said Rarity. “Aside from our personal preparations, of course.”

“Ah, yes.” Fancy Pants pulled out a pocket watch. “I suppose I’ll leave you ladies to that, then. In the meantime, I must go and ensure the food is delivered post haste. Golden Skillet is a fine chef, but he doesn’t brook tardiness. And the last thing anypony wants is a disgruntled chef cooking for them.”

“Yes, quite,” said Rarity with a knowing look. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the fashion industry, it’s that you never get on the bad side of somepony you need something from. That goes doubly for food.” 

“Then with that, I bid you both adieu. I’ll see you later this afternoon, and I must say, I can’t wait to see what fashions you’ll be exhibiting.”

Rarity chuckled. “My dear Fancy Pants, you have no idea. Come along, Fluttershy, we’d best be getting ourselves properly dressed.” With that, she began trotting back the way they’d come.

Sighing, Fluttershy fell into step beside her. “So that’s it, Rarity? We just put on our dresses and… start mingling?”

“Well, yes, I suppose.” A strange grin worked its way across her face. “Nothing else, except for a certain surprise, but that’s between me and Fancy Pants.”

Fluttershy raised an eyebrow. “A surprise?” 

Rarity clicked her tongue, wagging her hoof. “Ah ah ah. It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you what it was, now would it? Just wait and see, Fluttershy. It’s something that’ll tie this whole event together.” She kept on walking, up the stairs and toward their room.

It took several seconds for Fluttershy to realize she hadn’t followed. When she did, her steps were much, much more cautious.

> 2 — A Gauntlet of Guests
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“My dears, you look absolutely stunning!” Fancy Pants looked between the two mares, his eyes and smile shining.

“Well,” said Rarity, “the dress would be nothing without Fluttershy looking so beautiful in it.”

Fluttershy blushed. She had to admit, though, that was very true. Her gown was a rosy red, its fabric patterned with snowflake-like designs along the hem, cascading down around her rear legs in ample measure. The sleeves opened wide around the elbow, letting the silk lace underneath spill out above her fetlocks. With her mane braided and draped over her shoulder, and a small tiara on her head, she looked every inch the foreign princess come to call on the Canterlot nobility.

“I don’t like to brag,” Rarity continued, “but I think this is some of my best work yet.”

“Indeed,” said Fancy Pants. “The way you’ve combined both Equestrian and Snowbound fashion is remarkable.” Examining the fabric, he let out a soft whistle. “My, my, my, what did you use here? It’s incredibly fine.”

Rarity smiled proudly. “Ah, now that is a special silk I had imported from Saddle Arabia just for the occasion.”

“Well, that’s quite the expense for one little soiree. A far cry from that garden social many months back.”

“Oh, um…” Rarity looked away. “Yes, I suppose I did put a bit more time into this ensemble than usual. ‘Dress to impress’, as the saying goes.”

If Fluttershy was any judge, Rarity was the more impressive of the two of them. Her dress was cut along similar lines, but was deep violet in hue, neatly matching her mane and tail. In the absence of a tiara, she wore a bright sapphire around her neck, the same color as her cutie mark. The entire ensemble made her coat stand out all the more, even against the white carpet of the main foyer.

“And impressed I’m sure they’ll be, my dear.” Fancy Pants beamed at Fluttershy. “I daresay you’ll be the talk of the party.”

“Oh,” she said, ducking her gaze to the floor. “I’m sure if anypony’s going to be the talk of the party, it’s Rarity. I don’t think I even want to be the talk of anything.”

“Now, now,” Rarity said, “don’t be slipping back into stage fright again. Think of this like the modeling you did for Photo Finish.”

Fluttershy suppressed a shudder. “She… She’s not going to be here tonight, is she?”

“Perhaps. I don’t recall the entire guest list. There will be plenty of new faces, I’m sure.” She struck a pose. “A brand new audience for the art of Carousel Boutique!”

“You are most correct, my dear,” said Fancy Pants, taking Rarity by the hoof and leading her toward the door. “In fact, it’s high time for the guests to begin arriving. I’ll want to welcome them in person.” With a spark of his horn, the door opened wide, and they stepped onto the front patio.

The manor was nestled just on the edge of Canterlot proper, near the foot of the great mountain on which the city sat. Close enough to the hustle and bustle, yet far enough away to still allow a little breathing room for a proud set of palisades and a winding front drive. The trio, once outside, could see that a long string of carriages was even now clattering its way up toward the great house.

“Hmm, I think I recognize some of them already,” said Fancy Pants. “That white coach must be Fleur’s, that teal affair belongs to Jet Set and Upper Crust… Hoighty, Laureate, Sapphire, Arpeggio”—he counted off each carriage in turn—“and Doctor Sterling Hoof are all here…” he broke off into a chuckle. “And as for the bright red coach, well, I won’t spoil his appearance just yet.”

“Does everypony in Canterlot have their own carriages?” Fluttershy asked.

“Most, not all. It’s just another distinguishing mark. A little something to stand out from the crowd.” He grinned. “If I had my way, I’d attend every gathering by airship.”

Seems like that would be impractical, she thought, looking at the pointed towers of the city. One wrong move, and...

“Ah, here’s a good start to things.” Fancy Pants motioned to the first carriage that had pulled up, a handsome black coach with gold trim.

The door swung open, and out stepped a highly distinguished-looking stallion in a blue overcoat. The garment was accented with gold trim and buttons, and he wore a white ascot to complete the ensemble. He was a unicorn, with a tawny coat and long, wavy mane that was just beginning to gray and bald. On his nose was a set of round bifocals, framing his brown eyes. 

The stallion turned to the carriage, offering his hoof to its occupant. The unicorn mare who stepped out was tall, or at least, seemed tall thanks to the way her mane was styled. Her crimson locks were piled high atop her head like the tangled branches of an overgrown thicket, capped with a headdress of colorful feathers. She wore a ponderously-wide dress that trailed far behind her, its many frocks all but trailing on the ground. There was an airy look in her magenta eyes as she took in the manor’s facade; if Fluttershy was any judge, she seemed to be looking at it in disapproval.

Drawing close, the pair made their way up to Fancy Pants, who grinned at the stallion. “Always fashionably early, aren’t we, Avant?”

He smiled back, producing a silver watch from his coat pocket. “Always remember that time is money. And if money must be spent, it pays to be on time.”

Fancy Pants chuckled. “A maxim for every occasion.” He held out a hoof, and the two shared a firm hoofshake. “It’s always good to see you, old friend.”

He bowed his head. “Likewise, Fancy.”

“Ladies,” Fancy Pants said, nodded to Rarity and Fluttershy, “may I introduce the esteemed polymath known as Avant Garde. He and I go all the way back to Canterlot University. As to the lovely lady beside him, however, I’m afraid I’m at a loss.”

“Ah, yes.” Avant Garde turned to his companion. Fluttershy caught a glimpse of his cutie mark: a cog, sheet of paper, and quill. “Silk Stocking, ma chérie, this is the stallion I was telling you about.” He stepped aside, giving her space to admit her dress.

“Bonjour, Monsieur Pantalons.” She smiled sweetly, timidly offering her well-polished hoof. “It is an honor to finally meet you.”

“Ah, what a lovely accent!” He took her hoof in his, planting a kiss on it. “As befits such a lovely mare. My dear, it’s my honor to welcome you to my home. After all, it’s not often we have three beautiful ladies livening these halls.” He winked at Fluttershy and Rarity, his cheeks tugged into a cheery grin.

Rarity took the opportunity to step forward. She looked over Silk Stocking’s dress with a discerning eye. “I must say, that’s quite the ensemble you have, Miss Stocking, or is it ‘Missus’?” 

Her eyes widened, and she held a hoof in front of her mouth. “Oh, non, non. It is simply ‘Miss.’”

“Yes, I’m afraid we’ve only known each other for a short time,” said Avant Garde. “Indeed, I wish we had met sooner.” A playful glint flickered across his eyes as he smiled. “It’s always a pleasure to meet new faces, especially if they be so beautiful. Ladies, I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask your names.”

Rarity shook her head. “Oh, how silly of me, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Rarity.”

As Fancy Pants had done for Silk Stocking, Avant Garde took her hoof in his and kissed it. “Miss Rarity, it is an honor and a privilege.”

“And before I’m so foolish as to make the same mistake again, allow me to introduce you to my friend Fluttershy. She’ll be seeing to the arrangements for the animals this evening.” Rarity stepped to the side and allowed Fluttershy to come forward. 

Avant Garde offered his hoof. “Fluttershy, is it? I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Fluttershy extended her own hoof, and whispered something that might have been a “Nice to meet you, too,” before averting her eyes.

He raised an eyebrow for a moment, before his smile returned. “Speak little, do much. A fine philosophy to be governed by.” He kissed her hoof. “Better to slip with foot than tongue, after all.”

I’d rather not slip at all, she thought. “Um, I’ll keep that in mind.”

He nodded, turning to Fancy Pants. “Fancy, my friend, I’m sure I will speak with you later. And I’m sure we’ll have much to discuss.”

“Of course,” Fancy Pants said. “Please, carry on. You’ll find hors d'oeuvres just past the door, and my servants are at your every beck and call.”

He bowed his head once more, and with Silk Stocking by his side, made his way into the manor. She offered a final “Merci, Monsieur,” in passing.

Rarity turned to Fancy Pants. “So, old friends, then?”

“He’s one of my oldest. We studied business together at Canterlot University.” He chuckled. “Well, ‘together’ is perhaps the wrong word. We were… intellectual rivals, you might say.”

“Really? Somepony to rival you, Fancy Pants?” Rarity grinned at him. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Oh, well, we’d both say we were better than the other. In fact, it was because of our locking horns that we realized we’d make better partners than foes. We started a business together right out of university.” He looked out at Canterlot, a distant look in his eyes. “Our paths diverged shortly thereafter, though. Ah, now here we are.” Fancy Pants indicated the bright red carriage that had just pulled up. “Brace yourselves, ladies.”

The carriage door swung open, and out leapt a riot of color. He was an earth pony, with a bright yellow coat and a curly purple mane and tail. He wore a jacket that matched the hue of his coach, and on his head was a wide bicorn. Both were emblazoned with the letters “P. P.” in gold embroidery, matching the gold hue of the gilded telescope on his flank. About the only thing that wasn’t over-the-top was the white feather stuck into his hat, and even that was comically over-sized. He took a few steps forward, and, upon spying Fancy Pants, zoomed forward with a speed that would have done Rainbow Dash proud.

“Fancy Pants, my good stallion!” he cried, seizing Fancy Pant’s hoof and giving it a vigorous shaking. “Words can hardly express the joy, the absolute elation that I feel to be here!”

Fancy Pants laughed. “It’s always a pleasure, Posh. Ladies,” he said, turning to Rarity and Fluttershy, “this is Posh Panache.”

“Ah, my good ladies!” he leapt forward, kissing each of their hooves in turn like a hummingbird among flowers. “Posh Panache, entrepreneur extraordinaire, at your service!”

Rarity blew a bit of feather from her nose, chuckling. “Well, it’s very good to make your acquaintance, Mr. Panache. My name is Rarity.”

“Please, Miss, call me Posh. Because I am!” He laughed, a high and warbling sound.

“Yes, well, Mr. Posh, I must say, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered anypony of your… particular fashion sense.”

“Oh yes, I design all of my own outfits. It’s about the only way I can be sure they’re… me, you know?”

“Well,” said Fancy Pants, “it seems you two have something in common. Ms. Rarity also designed her own ensemble for this evening.”

“Really?” Posh’s blue eyes sparkled. “Well, you and I are going to have to compare notes, then, won’t we?”

“Um, yes, I suppose we shall.” Rarity looked away. “Oh, but first, you must meet my friend. This is Fluttershy.”

“Hm, and is she also a designer?”

No, I just work with animals.

“I’m sorry? Didn’t quite catch that.”

“I, um… I said no. I work with animals.”

“Oh, really? So do I! Have you ever ridden a Saddle Arabian sand worm? No quicker way to cross a desert, let me tell you. And the dirigible whales of the southern seas? Nothing more exciting than a day in their cavernous mouths. Unless its spending an afternoon having tea with the puffball toads of—”

Fancy Pants coughed into his hoof. “Posh, old boy, I’d save at least some stories for the rest of the party. There’ll be plenty of ponies to tell them to, as well.” He looked pointedly at the line of other guests that was making its way up the drive.

“Ah, but that implies I’ll ever run short of stories! No matter, my good stallion. I’ll simply make myself at home, then.” He started for the door. “Oh, but one more thing, is it alright if the lads join me?” He pointed a hoof at the team of stallions hitched to his carriage. “It’s not every day they get the chance to eat and be merry like this.”

Fancy Pants smiled. “My house is open. A few more guests won’t hurt a thing.”

“Thank you very much, sir. SUREFOOT!” he bellowed.

“Yes, sir?” came a response from down on the pavement.

“DRINKS’ ON, LADS!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Such a good colt.” He beamed, turning back to the Rarity and Fluttershy. “With that, ladies, I bid you farewell for now.” He pranced away inside, leaving the trio standing as though a whirlwind had just blown through.

Fancy Pants chuckled. “Yes, that was indeed Posh Panache. As he said, he’s the owner of a rather successful merchant company. He’s quite famous for bringing the first hourglass mushrooms to Canterlot. Finicky things, those. They grow only in the northern reaches of the Unicorn Range, and if they’re not—ah, my dear Fleur!”

Fluttershy turned her attention from Fancy Pants, and found a beautiful unicorn mare had waltzed up the steps. From her snow-white coat to her peach mane to her elegant lavender gown, she radiated an aura of sophistication and grace that, if Fluttershy was any judge, would have rivaled any of the Princesses. 

Or perhaps that was simply the aura of her perfume, which smelled like an army of daisies on the warpath. Fluttershy fought to keep from sneezing.

“Ah, my darling Fancy Pants,” said Fleur de Lis. “It’s wonderful to see you again. How long has it been? It seems like it’s been ages.”

Fancy Pants pondered that. “Really? It felt more like weeks, my dear. I trust your latest tour went well?”

“Oh, it was dreadful.” She waved a hoof in dismissal. “No matter what they say, Los Pegasus is not beautiful this time of year.”

“Really? I should think the summers would be fantastic out there.”

She rolled her eyes. “If your idea of ‘fantastic’ is to spend your every waking moment in a tightly-packed sweatbox of unbearable heat and insufferable ponies, then yes, I suppose it was fantastic. But enough about me. How are you, Fancy Pants?” She batted her long lashes sweetly.

“Well, you know, just working to get this whole affair off the ground. And I’ve not been alone in that endeavor.” He held a hoof out toward Rarity and Fluttershy. “These two have been—”

“Oh yes, I’m sure you must have been worked to the bone! Imagine, forging an alliance between two great nations! I only wish I could have been with you.” Her gaze rolled airly upward.

“Yes, well, as I was saying, I’ve not been alone. These two—”

“And to orchestrate such a fantastic gathering! All of Canterlot is turning out for this! But then, who wouldn’t heed the call of such a gentlecolt like yourself?”

“Well, there are a few who won’t be present. The Princesses politely declined, of course. Chancellor Bright Stone, as well.”

“Hmph.” Fleur turned her nose upward. “I suppose that’s their loss. Well, I’ll see you inside, my darling. I’m sure you have plenty of other guests to greet.”

“Ah, Fleur, wait.” Fancy Pants held out a hoof. “I couldn’t let you leave without introducing these two upstanding mares to you.”

Fleur looked at the pair, as if only just noticing they were not, in fact, part of the manor walls. “Oh, I suppose that’s true. How do you do, Miss…?”

Rarity cleared her throat, a sour expression on her face. “It’s Rarity. We met once before.” 

“Did we? Oh, yes, I suppose we did.” She turned to Fluttershy. “And forgive me if I’m forgetting your name, as well, Miss.”

I wouldn’t be surprised. “Um, no. We’ve never met. I’m Fluttershy.”

“Fluttershy? Well, I’ve no doubt I’ll be seeing more of you and… Rarity, at the party. And of course, I’ll be seeing you, Fancy Pants.” With final fluttering of her long lashes, Fleur spun around and disappeared through the front doors. Rarity looked after her with a narrow-lidded expression.

“You’ll have to forgive her, my dears,” said Fancy Pants. “She tends to be a little… how shall I say…”

“Airheaded?” Rarity deadpanned.

Fancy Pants barked a quick laugh. “I suppose that’s one way of putting it. I’ve often wondered if she wouldn’t have made a better pegasus, considering how often she has her head in the clouds. She means no offense, I assure you.”

Rarity let out a quick breath. “I suppose I’ll have to take your word for that. I just hope the rest of your guests aren’t so… distracted.”

As it happened, the remainder of the guests were very focused, arriving, exchanging pleasantries, and moving onto the mingling with the practiced efficiency of the well-to-do. While most were new acquaintances, a few familiar faces did turn up; Rarity was pleased to speak with Hoighty Toighty again, as well as Sapphire Shores. And though the appearance of Jet Set and Upper Crust set things on edge once again, the tension deflated immediately once Photo Finish arrived and, to Fluttershy’s bashful surprise, both remembered her and held no hard feelings.

“Really, ze’re vas no loss vhen you left. After all, ze magicks do not cling to any one pony.”

Fluttershy smiled, slightly. “Well, I’m glad you found somepony else to model for you.”

Photo Finish harrumphed. “Ze’re is always somepony to model for me. Ze world is but a frame in my camera’s lens!” Abruptly, she turned to Fancy Pants. “And thank you again, dahling, for inviting me. I vill take many photos to commemorate ze evening.”

Fancy Pants grinned wide. “I am in your debt, Miss. Please, enjoy yourself.”

As she sauntered into the manor, Fancy Pants looked around. “Well, I believe that’s the entire roster filled. Shall we mosey into the foyer?”

Rarity all but jumped up and down in joy. “I believe that’s a lovely idea.” 

He nodded. “Come along then, we’ll wait for them inside. And as long as we have time to kill, we can have some fun mingling.” 

Mingling. Fluttershy swallowed heavily. Here it was, the moment she’d been dreading. She could feel her breath quicken, could feel the shivering in her knees at the thought. It was one thing to have unfamiliar faces pass her by one-by-one, but entirely another to have them all there at once. As Fancy Pants and Rarity turned towards the door, Fluttershy found herself failing to follow.

And as luck would have it, that was when she caught sight of something unexpected. Another carriage was steadily making its way up the drive. It was deep red with gold trim, and was pulled by a team of heavy-set stallions dressed in sleek coats.

“Um, Mr. Pants?” she called. “It looks like there’s one more.”

“Hm?” He turned, his eyebrow raised. “So there is. Odd. Who could we have forgotten?”

The carriage pulled up to the manor, and its driver—a pegasus—fluttered down from his perch and opened the door. The coach’s lone occupant exited with his head held high. He looked to be a younger stallion—lean, and with his maroon mane gathered in a simple tail. He wore a burgundy tailcoat with a pale lavender vest and wine-red puff tie. His amber eyes swept across the manor, Fancy Pants, Rarity, and Fluttershy all at once, and, after flipping a bit to the cab driver, made his way to them.

“Who is that?” Rarity asked, a sly smile on her lips. “I daresay I should like to meet him.”

“Ah, that would be—” Fancy Pants cut off as the stallion in question drew up before them.

He smiled at Fancy Pants, thinly. “Well, don’t let me interrupt the introductions, Fancy Pants. Or were you expecting me to introduce myself? I can certainly do that, and at length.”

Fancy Pants looked him in the eye, and without breaking his gaze, said, “Ladies, this is Cavalier Cairn.”

“Short, sweet, and to the point. I have always appreciated your candor, Mr. Pants.” Turning to Rarity, he took her hoof in his. “And how do you do, Miss…?”

“Rarity,” she said, looking like a mare who had just won the lottery.

“Lady Rarity.” He set her hoof back down. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Her expression quickly shifted to one of confusion. “If it’s truly a pleasure, then surely you can be more polite? I daresay the lack of a kiss is a faux pas no other stallion here tonight has committed.”

“Well, I’m afraid those other stallions have been playing fast and light with the rules. Generally, one reserves that sort of behavior for ponies of… equal standing.”

Rarity’s mouth fell open, but before she could retort, he turned back to Fancy Pants. “Mr. Pants, I do apologize for being late. But, you can thank the Chancellor for urging me here while he is indisposed. I trust my presence will be welcome?”

Fancy Pants worked his jaw for a second. “My doors are open for any guests.”

“Excellent. So who else is here? The usuals, I’m sure.” He shrugged. “I suppose we’ll see. Take care, would you?” And with that, he swept into the manor without a single glance at any of them.

Fluttershy blinked. Throughout that entire exchange, he’d never once looked at her. Looking at Rarity, whose jaw was still open, she found it difficult to determine whether that was a good or bad thing.

All of a sudden, Rarity stirred. “I… He… How…” she seethed, looking at Fancy Pants.

He shrugged. “No further explanation necessary. That was Cavalier Cairn.”
	
> 3 — The Party Perturbed
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“I can’t believe him! ‘Reserved for ponies of equal standing’! Who does he think he is, anyway? The absolute nerve! You’d think that being in Fancy Pants’s good graces would be enough, but nooooo! Not for some ponies, it seems. Some ponies only care about the name, and if they don’t know the name already, it isn’t worth knowing! Oh, why does this always happen? Every time there’s a party, there’s always one stallion that just drives me up the wall! Why, why couldn’t this have just been a perfect evening for once? Haven’t I worked hard enough to deserve that much?”
 
She rounded on Fluttershy abruptly. “Well, haven’t I?”
 
Fluttershy blinked. “Um…”
 
Rarity sighed. “No, that’s all right, Fluttershy. I couldn’t honestly ask you that, anyway.” Turning back to the lavatory mirror, she took up her brush against a few more stray hairs. “Oh, I swear this sort of stress is going to be the death of me.”

Fluttershy looked around the bathroom, searching for any answers among the shining marble walls, the gleaming silver fixtures, or the luxurious towels. Unsurprisingly, there were none to be found.
 
“Well, maybe he just, um…”
 
“No, no! Don’t you dare try to defend him! That was inexcusable behavior!” She took another deep breath. “Still, I’ll just have to be the better pony. I simply won’t rise to his goading. And I won’t let it ruin the evening.” She stamped a hoof on the polished tile. “Yes, I will go out into the party with a smile on my lips and a gracious fire in my heart! Look out, world! Here comes Rarity, once again!” She struck out a hoof, pointing it at the door. “Let’s go, Fluttershy!”

Do we have to? It’s nice and quiet in here… “Okay.” Falling into step behind her, they passed through the door and out into the hallway. 

The sounds of slow, deliberate music, and the low, constant murmur of a dozen different conversations drifted toward them from the entrance hall. Padding into the foyer, they could see that the mingling was well underway. The guests were spread about in their own little circles, each discussing some event or some business transaction, or some aspect of Canterlot politics.

To Fluttershy, it might as well have been the surface of the moon. Or the pits of Tartarus. Or the depths of the Everfree Forest. Actually, no, she’d much prefer the Everfree, because at least then she’d just have to deal with manticores and cocatrices.

It was fortunate, then, that she had an experienced mingler at her side; Rarity surveyed the crowd with a look of subdued excitement. Leading Fluttershy into the thick of it, she said, “Well, we aren’t going to do any good standing here, Fluttershy. And we have plenty of ponies to choose from.” 

        “But are any of them going to want to talk to us?” Fluttershy asked. Please tell me they aren’t. It’ll be so much easier.

        “Oh, I’m sure at least some of them will. Let’s see if we can’t find a friendly face.”

        With Fancy Pants roaming the room somewhere, interacting with his guests, it seemed to Fluttershy that friendly faces were in short supply. She spied the brightly hued form of Posh Panache flitting among the various gatherings, and Fleur de Lis had a good third of the room gathered around her, though she seemed to hardly notice. Cavalier Cairn was nowhere to be found, fortunately.

        “Tell you what,” Rarity said, “why don’t we go and speak with Mr. Avant Garde again? He seemed a respectable sort.”

        Fluttershy followed Rarity’s gaze, to where the portly gentleman and his female companion stood apart from a mustachioed stallion in a top hat. Truth be told, she noticed Silk Stocking and her huge dress first. “Okay.”

        As they passed through the crowd, Fluttershy couldn’t help but notice the glances she and Rarity were getting. It seemed Rarity’s earlier prediction had come true; their outfits certainly were turning heads. She just wished they’d turn away quicker.

        Nearing the circle of ponies, she could hear Avant Garde speaking.

        “...It is a matter of probabilities, in estimating whether they are enough to constitute proof. This type of calculation is more complicated and more difficult than one might think. It demands a great sagacity generally above the common people. The success of charlatans, indeed, of all who abuse public credulity, is founded on errors in this type of calculation.”

        “So, what you mean to say,” said the stallion with the top hat, “is that most ponies are bad at math?”

        Garde chuckled. “Far from it. I mean simply that most lack the experience necessary to form logical conclusions. It is as much a learned behavior as it is an innate one.”

        “If that’s the case, Mr. Garde, how does one learn this behavior? Or teach it to the common folk?”

        Garde smirked. “So convenient it is to be a reasonable creature, since it enables one to find or make a reason for everything one has a mind to do. As I said, it is all a matter of experience. And experience is the best teacher.”

        The pony in the top hat seemed to lack a reply for that, giving Rarity the opportunity to slide in.

        “Well, well, well, Mr. Garde. It seems you’re all involved in a very deep conversation here.”

        “Ah, Ms. Rarity.” He bowed his head to her. “Yes, we were just discussing matters of politics. And who is fit to engage in them.”

        “Hmm… politics.” Rarity made a face. “I must admit, I’m not very familiar with the topic.”

        “Well, politics is my occupation, after all.” Garde grinned proudly. “And if I do say so, it is a most noble endeavor.”

        “I suppose I will have to take your word for it. If I may inquire, Mr. Garde, what exactly do you do in politics?”

        The pony in the top hat laughed. “My dear, you’ve just opened a floodgate. If you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I’ve heard all of this many a time. Mr. Garde, I beg your leave.”

        “By all means, my good stallion.” When the other pony had gone, he turned back to Rarity. “He wasn’t the most engaging conversationalist, anyway.”

        Rarity held a hoof to her mouth. “Well! I can only hope we prove better. Please, you were saying?”

        “Yes, since you asked, I am a senator in the Noble Houses.”

        “Ah, Fancy Pants explained as much, but not what you did, exactly.”

        “That’s the eternal question, isn’t it? One day, we may be discussing trade agreements with the Griffon Kingdoms, the next we may be voting on a new city ordinance, and the day after that, we may be drafting new laws concerning property taxes, or composing a memorandum advising the Princesses on the public view.”

        Rarity blinked. “‘Advising the Princesses’? You mean they’re not directly involved in all of this?”

        “No, and that is the whole point. The Noble Houses were founded by Princess Celestia specifically to handle these sorts of mundane issues. As it reads above the door to the assembly, ‘Deliberatio Non Delegatio’. ‘Deliberation, not delegation’. We represent the interests of the people, and do our best to serve them.”

        “Well, it certainly sounds like you keep yourself busy.”

        “We try our best. And the good ponies of Equestria will settle for no less.” He stood up straighter, adjusting his glasses. “I daresay our endeavors do the public more good than they imagine. Tell me, my dear, are you familiar with Prince Blueblood?”
 
Rarity laughed nervously, looking away. “I, uh… am rather more familiar with him than I’d care to admit.”
 
Avant Garde laughed, a strong and hearty noise straight from the belly. “Say no more. Well then, you might be interested in hearing what happened when he tried to introduce a certain bill into the Noble Houses about a year ago, one which would impose sanctions on any business that did not keep its premises free of puddles.”
 
Rarity sighed, shaking her head. “Why does this not surprise me?”
 
“It came as no surprise to most of us, either. What was surprising was that he had the support of the Mason’s Guild, and several other senators, besides.” He snorted. “Fools multiply folly. Evidently everypony was keen on forcing the city to adopt some new gutters. It was never going to pass, though, not without certain tactics on Blueblood’s part…”
 
His words faded into the background as Fluttershy felt her mind beginning to wander, and her gaze with it. Mr. Garde seemed entirely well-meaning, but if she was perfectly honest, everything he was saying was mostly going over her head. Her sole experience with anything political was with Ponyville’s mayoral elections, and since nopony ever saw the need to run against the incumbent, things tended to be rather simple.
 
Simple. Just how Ponyville ought to be. The thought of home drew her whole head like a compass, instinctively pointing toward the town.
 
To her surprise, she found her drifting gaze had met that of Silk Stocking.
 
She seemed surprised as well, blinking once before offering her a small smile. She opened her mouth, as though she was about to say something, then apparently reconsidered. Sweeping a crimson bang out of her eyes, she took a timid step closer.
 
“You are Fluttershy, oui?”

Fluttershy shrunk back a little. “Um, yes. I’m, uh… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”
 
“Non, non!” Silk shook her head, sending her pillar of hair swaying. “It is no problem at all. If anything, I should apologize. We have hardly spoken.”
 
That’s never a problem, believe me. “I suppose we haven’t, no.” She wracked her brain for some small talk. “Um… if you don’t mind my asking, what do you do, Ms. Stocking?”
 
“Oh, well, I…” she looked aside. “I suppose I… maintain a household.”
 
Fluttershy cocked her head. “‘Maintain a household?’”
 
“Yes, I come from a very wealthy family.” She gestured to her attire. “Petite surprise, non? We have so much money, I was, how do you say, ‘born into retirement.’”
 
“You mean you don’t have to work at all? You have that much?”
 
She looked strangely sad. “Oui. All my life, I have lived in a mansion, waited on by servants.”
 
“But, surely you have some hobbies?
 
“I read a lot. I like to study architecture.” Her face brightened for a moment. “I suppose one of my favorite things to do is to design mazes. I hear there is a grand labyrinthe in Canterlot Castle. Is this true?”
 
Fluttershy suppressed a shiver. “Um, yes, there is. I’ve been inside. It’s… big, yes.”
 
“Oh, I will have to ask Avant to take me there sometime. Tell me, do they have birds there?”
 
Is this a question? “Um… yes? I mean, there are birds all over Canterlot.”
 
“But do they have any grand birds, like flamants?”

“You mean phoenixes? Princess Celestia has one. She’s… actually not that big.”
 
“Non, non. I mean the pink birds with the long legs.”
 
“Oh, flamingoes? No, they wouldn’t do well in Canterlot. They need very specific living conditions in order to thrive.” Fluttershy blinked. “You… Um, sorry, but it sounds like you, well, don’t have much experience with nature.” She winced. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be so… blunt.”

Her lips drooped, and her ears with them, as her eyes cast themselves somberly to the side. “Ça ira. I have… never been the strongest of health,” she said. “It has been that way ever since I was a young filly. Mes parents never let me play outside, for fear I would hurt myself or get sick.”
 
“Oh, how awful!” said Fluttershy, and she meant it. “I can’t imagine being cooped up inside all the time. I know my chickens would go crazy if I did that to them.”
 
Silk gave a bright laugh. “Les poulets? You have them? How funny!”
 
“Um… Funny?”
 
“Oui. With the way they go ‘cot cot cot’ and strut along, pecking at the ground.” She giggled. “They are so funny!”
 
Fluttershy giggled herself. “Yes, I suppose they are.” She smiled at Silk Stocking, and was pleased to find her smiling back warmly. “I’d love for you to meet Elizabeak and the rest of my chickens. You should come to Ponyville sometime.”
 
“Ponyville?” She blinked. “Where is that?”
 
“It’s a little town just south of Canterlot. It’s really rather lovely, especially in the summer like this. There’s all sorts of festivals this time of year, plus the lake is always nice and cool. Oh, and of course, there are all sorts of animals, from squirrels to beavers to birds and beyond.”
 
Silk sighed, her gaze drifting upward. “It sounds très magnifique.” She looked at Avant Garde. “Perhaps I will ask Avant if we may take a vacation there instead.”
 
Fluttershy nodded to herself. What do you know? Maybe mingling isn’t so bad. With a deep breath, she turned back to the other two ponies in their circle. Avant Garde appeared to be wrapping up his story.
 
“…And so, Prince Blueblood spent twelve hours pontificating on the merits of gutters to an empty hall.”
 
Rarity held her head in her hoof, shaking it and grinning. “I can see it all now, Mr. Garde, and it is magnificent.”
 
He laughed. “He’s never been able to live it down. Any time he dared enter the assembly, somepony would cry, ‘Here comes the Orator! With his Flood of Words, and his Drop of Reason!’”
 
“So, um,” said Fluttershy, smiling, “it sounds like the Noble Houses are a fun place to be.”
 
Avant Garde nodded. “Good to hear your voice weigh in, Ms. Fluttershy. And yes, they can be. For the most part, however, we deal with more serious issues. Take our Snowbound friends, for example. It has been quite a challenge to build relations with them up to this point.”
 
Fluttershy quirked an eyebrow. “How come?”
 
“Well, let me ask you both this,” he said, straightening his glasses. “Had you ever heard of the Snowbound Republic before Fancy Pants mentioned it?”

“I’ll admit, I had never even heard of the place,” said Rarity. Fluttershy shook her head.

        He gave a knowing nod. “That’s because, as much as they could be, they were a lost civilization until recently.”

        Rarity raised an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”

        “The Republic has always been isolationist. From their very beginnings, they’ve mostly kept to themselves. I understand they’ve dealt with many internal problems, not least of which is the frigid climate in which they live, but from that they’ve forged quite a country. And only recently have they decided to open their borders to us. I have since served as ambassador, one of only a hoof-full who have been allowed to visit in centuries.”

        “And I presume Fancy Pants is one of those others?”

        “Indeed.” He looked around. “Mr. Panache has also been there. If I could find him, I’m sure he’d love to—”

        “Did shomeone shay my name?” Suddenly, Posh Panache was among them, chewing on a sprig of alfalfa. Somehow, he’d managed to bypass all of their gazes despite his florid attire. “And yesh,” he said, swallowing, “I would indeed love to tell of my adventures there. Have I mentioned how I was the one who made first contact?”

        Avant Garde looked at the assembled mares, smiled, and said, “By all means, my good stallion, enlighten us.”

        “Ask and ye shall receive.” Posh cleared his throat, sounding like rooster choking on its morning crow. “So, there I was, riding one of my airships over the northern reaches when we were suddenly set upon by windigoes.”

        “Windigoes?!” both Rarity and Fluttershy exclaimed.

        “Oh, mes étoiles!” said Silk Stocking. “You mean the beasts really exist?”

“Milady, I have the soiled trousers to prove it. They came from nowhere, straight out of the frigid air, braying and howling like the Hound of Tartarus itself! They surrounded us on all sides, battering their hooves against the hull”—he used one hoof to bang against the ground, demonstrating, rather vividly, what the windigoes did—“and to our horror, the wood began to freeze! With each strike, they came closer and closer to rending the hull asunder! My breath turned to frost, and I thought ‘Surely this is the end!’” He held a hoof to his forehead in a dramatic gesture that made even Rarity jealous. Suddenly, he snapped his hoof back down, and a sly grin came across his face. “But do you know what happened next?”

        Rarity shook her head. “I haven’t a clue.” 

        Posh’s face lit up with the childlike glee of a foal on their birthday. “Just at the last moment, when all hope was lost and I’d resigned myself to my fate, who should arrive but one Gilbert Whitehill, accompanied by a cadre of his personal guards.” 

        “Mr. Posh?” said Fluttershy, tilting her head to the side. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but who is this Gilbert Whitehill again?”

        Posh clicked his tongue. “Goodness, Fancy Pants hasn’t even told you the names of our guests yet? How very unbecoming. I’m aghast, agape, aggrieved.” He frowned. “Hmm, perhaps I wouldn’t go that far, but since he’s already done you the dishonor of not telling you of Gilbert the Great and Glorious, I don’t suppose you’ll mind me doing it, hm?”

        Rarity chuckled, bowing her head a bit. “Not at all, Posh. Please, carry on.” 

        “Oh, with pleasure. And with visual aids!” He was away in a flash, and when he returned a second later, he was carrying his upturned bicorn, filled with an assortment of salt and pepper shakers, in one hoof and a boat of cream in the other. In one smooth motion, he arrayed them on the floor between them.“Now, as I was saying, myself and my crew were being harried by a group of particularly troublesome windigoes.” He picked up a few of the salt shakers and tapped them against the cup. “But, as luck would have it, we happened to be passing by one of the great steppes often patrolled by the Snowbounders, though I didn’t know it at the time.” He moved the pepper shakers in a bit closer. “The windigoes had broken through the upper decks and grabbed one of my most senior officers. Rough Seas is no small stallion, let me tell you. A lifetime of working on trading vessels had made him quite the formidable pony. He was as strong as an ox, and bigger than any I’d ever seen. But that didn’t stop the windigoes. They scooped him up like he was a newborn foal.” Posh used one of the salt shakers to spill a bit of the cream on the table. 

        “Oh dear,” said Fluttershy, covering her mouth. “I hope he didn’t get hurt.” 

        Posh gave Fluttershy a reassuring smile. “Oh, not to worry, my dear. He’s fine now, though I was less certain at the time. I thought he was a goner for sure, and that I’d be next. But, like a bolt of lightning, as soon as the windigo had taken Seas off the deck, it was struck by a monster of a griffon. He barreled over the windigo like it wasn’t even there, and he managed to catch Seas as he fell at the same time. No easy feat, I can assure you of that.” 

        “Surely this griffon couldn’t have done all this by himself,” said Rarity, raising her eyebrow a bit. “You did say there was a group of them, correct?”

        “Oh, there was a group of them all right,” said Posh, now grinning ear-to-ear. “But I can assure you my memory of the event is as clear as the water in those glasses. Gilbert, as I found out was his name later on, took out at least four or five of the windigoes himself, and that was after saving Rough Seas. He dropped the officer back on the deck before going to fight more windigoes, and when he did, I saw him up close for the first time. I told you that Rough Seas was as big as an ox, yes? Well, Gilbert made Seas look like a baby deer next to him. He towered over all the other griffons that were with him, and even they were not exactly small.” Posh picked up one of the pepper shakers and started knocking over the salt shakers one by one. “After he’d saved Seas, Gilbert set about taking out the windigoes. He was faster than any pony I’d ever seen, and more agile than his massive frame would make you suspect. He moved like an eagle, but hit like a lion, which, I suppose makes sense now that I think about it.”

        Avant Garde, who was busy cleaning up the mess Posh was making with his demonstration, said, “Griffons are known for their strength and speed, make no mistake. Gilbert, however—”

        “Gilbert was different,” said Posh, interrupting Garde and taking back the reigns of the story. “He wasn’t just fast. He could outrun any of the windigoes as they tried to flee. He wasn’t just strong. He grabbed the vile beasts by their necks and sent them plummeting towards the ground like they were pebbles.” He held up the pepper shaker in his hoof, admiring it like you would fine jewelry. “No, Gilbert Whitehill is in a league of his own. A cut above the rest. The cream of the crop. Top of—”

        “Yes, yes, we get it, Posh,” said Garde, scooping the last of the spilled salt onto a plate and handing it to a passing maid. “Gilbert is certainly something special. Of that you ladies can be sure.” 

        Posh tossed aside the pepper shaker and the put his hoof on Rarity’s shoulder. He grinned widely at her. “And tonight you’re going to meet Gilbert.”

        Fluttershy shuddered slightly. “He sounds scary,” she said. “I’m not sure I want to meet him.” 

        Posh laughed jovially, patting Fluttershy on the back. “Nonsense! If there’s one thing I learned from that day Gilbert saved us, it’s that you should never judge a chicken before it’s hatched. Wait, I think I’m mixing up my metaphors again. What is it?” He tapped a hoof against his chin. “Something to do with books, I think.” 

        “Oh, there you ladies are! I was worried I had lost you in the crowd,” came a voice from behind Rarity. She turned to see Fancy Pants making his way through the crowd towards them. Evidently Posh Panache hadn’t noticed though as he was still thumping his head with a hoof, staring up with a far off look in his eye. Fancy Pants leaned in and whispered to Fluttershy and Rarity. “Come now, while he’s distracted. There’s plenty more guests I’d like you ladies to meet. I’m sure Posh won’t mind if we step out.” 

Rarity tried not to let it show too much, but Fluttershy could hear the relief in her voice as she said, “Yes, I do hate to leave Mr. Panache, but there’s a whole party full of guests.” She gave a little grin that quickly turned into a look of sheer terror. “Oh no...”
 
“What?” said Fluttershy. “What is it, Rarity?”
 
With a trembling hoof, Rarity pointed toward the table filled with hors d’oeuvres. There, creeping along the edge of the table, was Opalescence. She was eyeing the platters of food as only a hungry cat can.
 
“Hmm… How did she get out?” Fluttershy wondered aloud.

“What was that?” said Fancy Pants, turning back the mares. “Did you say something?”

Rarity quickly snapped back to Fancy Pants, a bright and unassuming smile on her face. “What was that? Oh, no, no,” she waved her hoof dismissively, “it’s nothing, Fancy Pants, darling. A mere slip of the tongue.” 

Fancy Pants raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “As you say, my lady. Come then, I’m sure we can find some excellent company here somewhere.” 
 
Rarity waited for Fancy Pants to turn back around before she whipped back to Fluttershy, her eyes wide. She leaned in and hissed into Fluttershy’s ear. “She shouldn’t be here. Not now!”
 
Fluttershy tilted her head in curiosity. “I know we closed the door. I could have sworn the window was closed, too…”
 
“Oh, this isn’t good! If anypony sees her, they’ll start asking, ‘Whose cat?’ That’s not a question I’m prepared to answer!”
 
Fluttershy looked at her. You brought her here in the first place, Rarity…
 
“Quickly, Fluttershy! Go over there and coax her back to the room as quietly as possible.”
 
“Why me?”
 
“If I go, she’ll make a fuss. This needs to be done quietly. Please Fluttershy, this is no place for a little kitten like her!”
 
She's not a kitten anymore, Rarity... “Okay, I'll take care of her.”
 
“Thank you, Fluttershy. I'll run interference for you.”
 
As she slipped away, quickly catching back up with Fancy Pants, Fluttershy heard Rarity resume her conversation with a much louder volume. “So, you were saying, Fancy?”
 
        With head bowed slightly on instinct, Fluttershy broke away and made her way toward the table. Her pace was slow and cautious, her eyes wide and darting around the surroundings rapidly. Her dress was still drawing curious gazes, though hopefully that meant the assembled aristocrats weren’t paying attention to Opal.

        As she drew near, she began to smell the hors d'oeuvres. The table was well-laden with all sorts of delicious-looking dishes—alfalfa leaves cut into appealing shapes, exotic plants such as pomegranates, citrus fruits, and some spiky things she couldn't identify—and toward the end were… fish bites?

        Unless her nose was fooling her—and it was usually nice enough not to—fish was being served. Sure enough, as she got closer, she spied a platter of what appeared to be salmon filets, garnished with assorted greens.

        Odd. Why would they serve this sort of thing to ponies? Indeed, it seemed the platter was untouched, except for where somepony had apparently scraped the vegetables off of one of them. It wouldn’t stay that way for long, though, not if the hungry-eyed feline staring up at them had her way. With a few final steps, she made her way up, placing herself between Opal and the room at large. 

        Apparently, she was rather adept at being stealthy. Opal barely registered her approach, though that might have just been apathy on her part.

“Hello, Opal,” she whispered once she was in range.
 
The cat looked back at her, if only for a moment.
 
“Um, I'm afraid you'll have to come with me, Opal. This is no place for a little cat, I'm sorry to say.”

        Opal seemed to perk up at this, giving Fluttershy her attention.
 
"Yes, I'm afraid you'll have to stay in the room until this is all over. There's going to be a lot of other animals here soon. I know you're not one for other animals, and I wouldn't want to impose."

        Opal looked back at the table, then gave her an inquisitive meow.

        “Shh! You need to be quiet Opal.” She looked around. Nopony seemed to have heard her. “Here, if I get you some of that lovely fish, will you come back to the room with me?”

        She seemed to contemplate that for a moment. Then she meowed, nodding her head.

        “Okay, then. Quick, hide under the tablecloth while I get you your plate.” She lifted up the edge of the white cloth, ushering Opal underneath. The cat looked up at her impatiently as she closed her in.

        Sparing no time, Fluttershy quickly grabbed a small plate from the table and began loading it up. She was hardly an experienced judge, but from what she could tell, the little bites were delicious—she detected all manner of spices, plus fresh lemon. Half a dozen would do.

        “All right, Opal. I’ve got your fish. Now, just keep it under the table. I’m going to slide the plate right under—”

“Ahem.”
 
Fluttershy’s eyes widened and she nearly knocked her head on the table as she spun to face the source of the voice.
 
He was an older stallion, with slate-gray fur and a long, silver mane. He wore a white three-piece suit, the gray of his fetlocks poking from his sleeves like some sort of fancy cuffs. His hooves were white, matching his outfit, and on his flank was a picture of a bone on a black slate.
 
“I’m no psychologist,” he said, his voice stern and gravelly, “but is there a reason you’re conversing with the tablecloth, Miss?”
 
“Um…” She pawed the carpet nervously. “N-no reason in particular. None at all.”
 
“Hmm…” With a green glow, he withdrew a notepad and pen from within his coat, flipping the pages over. “You are Ms. Fluttershy, correct?”
 
“Yes, that’s me.” She wracked her brain, searching through the dozens of faces she’d met out on the front porch. “And you’re… Um…”
 
“Sterling Hoof, M.D.” He scribbled something down, muttering to himself. “Patient exhibits numerous psychological abnormalities. Slight amnesia, schizophrenic symptoms.” His gaze suddenly snapped back to her. “Tell me, Miss, how long have you had these carnivorous urges?
                
“I-I’m sorry?”
 
He nodded to the plate of fish. “It’s rare to see a pony exhibiting such behavior outside of extreme starvation. Do you regularly consume meat, Miss?”
 
“Oh no!” She shook her head. “No, not at all! T-this is all a big misunderstanding. I”—she paused, watching him writing down even more notes—“Um, are you really writing all this down?”
 
“Of course. Any medical puzzle requires notes.”

“But I’m not sick…”
 
“Really? Your jaundiced fur could indicate any number of nutritional deficiencies.”
 
“T-this is how my coat always is…”
 
“So it’s genetic, then. Hmm… that makes things difficult.”
 
“N-no! I’m fine!” she blurted. “I mean, I’m sure I’m perfectly healthy, Doctor. Thank you.”
                
“If that’s the case, there must be some other explanation for your behavior.”
 
“Well, I…” She suddenly felt something brush against her back leg. She jumped, leaping to the side, and to her horror, found Opalescence happily munching her way through the plate of fish. Fluttershy looked up at Sterling Hoof, her ears flattened against her head.
 
He nodded. “I see. And here I thought I might have an opportunity to exercise my diagnostic muscles.” He sighed. “Oh well.”
 
Slowly, Fluttershy spoke up again. “Um, can you please do me a favor and not tell anypony about this?”
 
He glanced at his notebook. The corner of his mouth twitched, slightly. “I think we’ll just file this whole affair under ‘doctor-patient privilege.’”

“Um… T-thank you, Doctor.”
 
“No harm done, Miss, as it should be.”

Wrapping Opal surreptitiously beneath one of her wings, Fluttershy made all due haste away from the foyer. Remind me never to get sick in Canterlot...



	

If there was one thing Fluttershy could be proud of, it was that she’d learned the layout of the manor fairly quickly. The swiftest route back to the guest room was through the patio and out into the central garden where she could sneak in through the rear staircase, hopefully without being seen. With Opal still secured under her wing, Fluttershy quickly slipped outside.

 Luckily, it seemed nopony had made the migration outside yet, and so she was, thankfully, alone. The sun was just hanging above the edge of the rooftops; a little longer, and the courtyard would be plunged into shadow. Birds flitted from hedge to rustling hedge, their chirps accompanying the babbling of the central fountain. And the sound of voices.

As she rounded one of the hedges, she recognized them. It sounds like Mr. Garde and Silk Stocking. 

“He really has done much to improve this place,” said Avant Garde thoughtfully. “I remember when he first inherited it from his grandfather, it was all but falling apart.”

“Ah, I do enjoy old houses. So much character in the walls, you could almost speak with them.”

He chuckled. “Take care you don’t get lost in that character, my dear. There’s still a long night ahead. Fancy hasn’t even brought out the vintage wine yet.”

Silk Stocking laughed in an airy tone. “Très drôle. I won’t lose myself, I assure you.”

Fluttershy surveyed the area, weighing her options. The pair was right in the middle of her route to far door. Were she alone, she could take flight and maybe slip past them, but with Opal, she didn’t dare risk it. Cats weren’t meant to fly, after all, and usually made that fact well-understood with claws and fangs. Maybe she could leap across the gap into the concealment offered by the next hedge… No, there was no way she’d be quick enough, even without her dress slowing her down. Maybe if—

“Ah, Ms. Fluttershy!” Avant Garde called to her. “What are you doing out here?” 

Darn. Upon reflection, it was probably not a good idea to ponder the finer points of tactical espionage while in plain sight.

“Oh, I was just, um, heading back to our room to get something,” Fluttershy said, doing her best to hide Opal under her wing. Well, with my cover blown, I might as well take the direct route. She gave them an awkward smile, moving closer. “Um, well, I hate to bother you, so I think I’ll just be on my way. To the room.”
 
“You’re staying in one of the guest rooms?” Garde looked at her inquisitively. “Tell me, did Fancy Pants ever get around to fixing the loose boards in the corner room there?”
 
Opal was starting to squirm. “Uh, I don’t know,” said Fluttershy. “We’re staying in that room up there”—she pointed to the second-story window just off the center—“and I haven’t noticed any loose boards.”
 
“Ah, the lavender room, then. Yes, as I recall, that was where Fancy’s grandfather used to keep his study.”
 
“Really? Well, that’s very interesting, but—” she cut off as a very feline “meow” suddenly sounded from beneath her wing.
 
Avant Garde and Silk Stocking both raised their eyebrows.
 
“Um, that was… my stomach growling. It’s like a ferocious tiger in there!” She laughed, forcing a grin.
 
Garde gave her a good-natured chuckle. “Well, I knew you were an animal keeper, Miss, but a tiger? Not a beast to be trifled with. Please, do what you must to tame it.” He motioned away with an outstretched hoof.
 
“T-thank you, Mr. Garde. I’ll just—Oh!”
 
Opal suddenly squirmed loose, plopping to the ground in front of her. She held her nose high, sniffing at the air, and with a purposeful stride, started padding over toward Garde and Silk. Her green eyes seemed fixed on Garde for some reason.
 
Silk giggled. “I think she likes you, Avant.”
 
“Indeed.” Opalescence was rubbing up against Avant Garde’s leg, letting out a soft purr. Garde chuckled again, bending down to the cat’s level. He leaned down, reaching out a hoof and petting her head, eliciting more purrs. “She certainly seems friendly.”
 
“Oui,” Silk said, watching the cat closely. “Very friendly.”
 
Opal suddenly reached a paw up. Fluttershy followed her grasping paw, and saw what she was reaching for: the lapel of Garde’s coat, or rather, what was pinned there. It had small, sharp wings, and a long, narrow beak with two dark gemstones for eyes. It was made of bright copper, with shades of patina showing along its edges. Honestly, it ought to have caught her attention sooner, given what it was shaped like.
 
“Is that… a Green Violetear?” Fluttershy said, pointing to it.
 
Garde looked at her, wide-eyed. “Why, yes! You have quite the eye for birds, Ms. Fluttershy.” He looked down at the thing. “Yes, in my youth, I helped found a small volunteer fire company, and we kept Canterlot’s East Quarter safe for many years. This little fellow was our symbol.”
 
“What happened to the company?”
 
“I wound up disbanding it many years down the line. Once I entered Canterlot University, I no longer had the time for such things.” He looked away, up above the courtyard walls. “Fancy Pants made sure of that.”
 
Fluttershy looked at him oddly. There was something in the way he said that…
 
Opal suddenly lunged for Garde’s lapel. Fluttershy wrestled her back, fur flying every which way. “No, Opal!” she scolded. “That was very rude! Apologize to Mr. Garde right now.”
 
Garde laughed. “Well, I guess my little hummingbird is a little too lifelike!”
 
Opal mewed, reaching out for Garde’s pin once again, but Fluttershy pulled her away. “Opalescence! What has gotten into you?”
 
“No, no, it’s quite all right, my dear,” said Garde, waving his hoof and giving Fluttershy a kindly smile. “She’s just a cat after all.”
 
She could feel her face flushing with embarrassment. She flicked her gaze to Silk, who was looking at her amusedly. “I should…. get her out of here. I’m so sorry.”
 
“The cat in gloves catches no mice.” He grinned. “Run along, then.”
 
Fluttershy hardly needed to be told twice. As quickly as she was able, she raced from the courtyard and up the stairs. Once inside, she placed Opal on the bed with her plate of fish, saying, “Now, you stay here. Okay, Opal? It won’t be good if anyone else spots you running around. You’ll get Rarity in trouble.” 

Opal regarded Fluttershy with an indifferent look. She gave a plaintive meow, then started tearing into the fish on her plate. Fluttershy nodded, satisfied, and then slipped back out before the curious cat had a chance to escape again. 

Closing the door behind herself, Fluttershy let out a little sigh of relief and headed back. Fluttershy carefully made her way down the steps and back into the main ballroom, where the party had continued in her absence. If only it had finished, too…

Her eyes scanned the many ponies, seeking Rarity. It should’ve been easy—they were both wearing unique dresses, after all—like trying to spot a red squirrel among so many gray ones. Sure enough, she was standing near the far wall. And she wasn’t alone.

Cavalier Cairn was standing in front of her. His horn was alight with a golden glow as he held up a glass of red wine. He seemed to be speaking evenly, with an easygoing smile, though the frown on Rarity’s face belied any cheer. 

I’ve got a bad feeling about this… Swallowing heavily, Fluttershy hurried to her friend’s side.

As she approached, she heard Cairn’s smooth voice speaking. “Are you sure? It seems as though there’s something you wish to say.”
 
“There is,” Rarity said, her voice hard and even, “but it wouldn’t be fit for polite company.”
 
Cairn glanced at Fluttershy. “Oh, is that who this is? ‘Polite company’?” His grin widened. “Odd name for a pony.”
 
No, my name is…
 
“Her name,” Rarity cut in, “is Fluttershy. And I’ll stop you right there, since I won’t tolerate any disrespect toward my friends.”
 
“One of your friends? Ah, I suppose I should’ve guessed.” He looked between the two of them. “Such… unique attire. It certainly stands out from the crowd.” He lifted his glass, taking a sip.
 
Rarity’s eyes narrowed, scanning his face. Evidently she was trying to determine whether that was a compliment or not.
 
“What matters, however,” Cairn continued, “is whether you stand out from the crowd.”
 
Rarity’s narrowed gaze turned into a full-on glare. “Excuse me?”
 
“Canterlot doesn’t care what you say or do, Lady Rarity. It cares about what you have to barter with. So, what’s your commodity?”
 
 She tossed her head back. “Well, the lovely thing about my particular set of skills is that they’re easily displayed. Fashion is my passion, and my livelihood.”

“Then you would know that it’s not the clothes that matter, but the pony beneath them.” He gave an obvious glance to his own outfit. “Canterlot already has many tailors. If you aim to step into that arena, you’d better be prepared.”

Rarity reached up, stroking her mane. “I’m quite confident I can stand with the best.”

His eyes roved her dress. He gave a stiff nod. “Yes, I concede that’s likely true.”
 
She looked at him levelly. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
 
“Hmm… How very tragic, when a stallion can’t be taken at his word.”
 
“You’re an exception to the rule, I suppose.”
 
“Indeed I am exceptional. One of the perks of being me, I suppose.” He raised his glass in toast to himself, taking a sip.
 
Rarity chuckled, shaking her head. “If you weren’t standing in front of me, I could scarcely believe anypony could be so arrogant.”
 
“At least I’m arrogant for more than my own sake. Unlike most of the ponies here, I at least have some of my own achievements to stand on.”
 
“Really?” Rarity’s words dripped with sarcasm. “And what, dare I ask, have you contributed to society, Mr. Cairn?”
 
“It’d be simpler to list what I haven’t. When your law career is as stellar as mine, individual moments tend to fall to the wayside.”
 
“Ah, you’re a lawyer.” Rarity nodded grimly. “That explains things.”
 
He grinned, showing off his white teeth. “And now who’s being disrespectful? Your Honor, I object to the witness’s last statement and request new testimony!”

“Oh, don’t you start bringing your courtroom antics in here. This is a friendly gathering, and the last thing—”

“‘A friendly gathering?’” He barked a quick laugh. “Nopony in Canterlot gathers simply to be friendly. There’s always a motive.” He tilted his head back, looking down his nose at her. “So, Lady Rarity, let’s hear yours. What are you doing at this little gathering?”

Her expression would’ve cracked a mirror, but she began to speak, nonetheless. “I came here at the request of a friend.”

“Hold it.” Cairn struck out his hoof. “Who is this friend, exactly?”

“Fancy Pants, of course. He requested that I come and help prepare the manor for the party.”

“Just you, then?”

“No.” Rarity turned to Fluttershy. “He asked for Fluttershy, as well.”

“Oh?” Cairn’s gaze also found her. “And would you care to explain why, Miss?”

Not really, no. “Um, I’m just here to—”

“She’s also here to help with the party,” said Rarity. “And that’s all you need to know, Mr. Cairn.

Cairn’s grin widened. “Very well. Please continue, Lady Rarity.”

She frowned. “I believe I answered your question.”

“Oh, you’re finished?” His expression was one of surprise, but his eyes still carried his grin. “Thank you for proving my point, then. You’re here on business. Nothing friendly about it.”

Her eyes flashed. “I will have you know that Fancy Pants is a dear friend of mine and—”

“And how much is he paying you, exactly?”

Rarity’s jaw dropped open. “Wh—No! Not a bit! And I wouldn’t think of asking!”

“Ah, but of course. Money exchanged puts the matter to rest, but a favor?” Cairn regarded Rarity like a hawk sighting its prey. “A favor is a grand investment. Easily repaid, and highly profitable.”

“Y-you…” Rarity spluttered. “How dare you—”

“It’s a fine strategy. Easily worthy of Canterlot. Find the stallion on top of the heap, wile your way into his good graces, and begin building the debt. A favor here, a favor there… Soon enough he’ll be in arrears, and then you can collect on it all at—”

“Enough!” Rarity burst out. “You, sir, are an absolute cur! Honestly, I don’t know how Fancy Pants could have let in such an ungentlemanly, uncouth, uncivilized lowbrow like YOU!”
                
The hum of conversation died, plunging the foyer into absolute silence. Even the band had ceased playing. Fluttershy’s gaze darted around the room, finding every pair of eyes now focused on the three of them. She cringed back, riveting her gaze to Rarity for safety.
 
Rarity’s own gaze was fixed on Cairn, and his with hers. His expression hadn’t shifted from that same half-lidded look of smug disdain. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his glass to his lips and took another sip. Swallowing, he cast his gaze around the room, one eyebrow arched.
 
“Well, carry on, ladies and gents,” he said. “Don’t let us distract you from the festivities.”
 
One by one, the ponies in the hall turned back to their own conversations. The band began playing once again. Fluttershy let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding; Rarity also seemed to deflate, the recoil of her outburst finally hitting home.
 
Cairn let the noise hang between them for a moment. “That, Lady Rarity, is precisely why.”
 
Her glare returned in full force. “What do you mean?”
 
“It’s quite simple. Look around you. You see how these ponies reacted? Not a one thought to speak out against me, and do you know why?” He grinned. “It’s because I would outspeak them.”
 
“You’re a blowhard.” Rarity growled. “I think we’ve well established that.”
 
“No, no, don’t misunderstand. Here”—he pointed to a pony across the room—“see the fellow in the grey coat? That’s Overland Route, owner of the Southwest Railway.”
 
“And? What does he have to do with anything?”
 
“Well, when his railway began switching away from pony-driven engines, the unions tried to argue that it was a violation of labor statutes, since it put so many drivers out of a job. Long story short, I argued that since the new engines created new maintenance jobs anyway, there was no net loss, and therefore, no case.”
 
“Wonderful. I think I see what you’re getting at.”
 
“Oh, I’m hardly finished. That… healthy lady over yonder? Ms. Verdant Wood, one of the biggest paper magnates in Canterlot. She owns some of the largest tracts of timber south of the Unicorn Range, all thanks to me.”
 
“So, you’re a charity now?”
 
“No, I simply argued for her property rights. She and West Weald over there both laid claim to the same land, citing ancestral rights. A bit of research into the Canterlot Archives produced a document that I used to prove her claim the valid one.
 
“And then I spun around and filed a suit for Mr. Weald not two months later. Turns out Ms. Wood had tried floating her timber down one of his rivers without his permission. That was a fun case. Stellar reactions from all involved.
 
“Madame Pish Posh over there? She wouldn’t be wearing that dress if I hadn’t defended her against a copyright suit for the design. Mr. Arpeggio? His career wouldn’t have survived if I hadn’t brought several imitators to suit. Sir Coal there owes his hold over Canterlot’s hearths to me. And as for our host Mr. Fancy Pants—”
 
“All right!” Rarity hissed. “We get it! You have an impeccable record in court. You’re also an absolute louse.”
 
The insult bounced off of him. “Not just impeccable, my dear. Immaculate. I have never lost litigation. That’s the sort of reputation that gets around rather quickly, and a good reputation is a good commodity.”
 
She scowled at him as though he were something scraped off a sewer worker’s hoof. “So what you mean to say is you’ve long since sold yourself.”
 
“No more than anypony else here. If you want to know how this city stays fixed to the mountainside, Lady Rarity, it isn’t because of sturdy construction. It’s because of ponies like me, who make sure there’s enough money going around to hold it all together.” He lifted his glass, knocking it back in one quick pull. When he looked at them again, his eyes were hard. “Sorry to spoil your illusions of good company, but that’s just how it is in Canterlot. Have a pleasant evening.” Without another word, he trotted away into the crowd, leaving the two mares alone.
 
For the second time, Fluttershy let out a breath she’d been holding. The last time she’d experienced such a choking atmosphere, dragons had been involved. Rarity looked like she was about to breathe fire herself. Or shoot it from her eyes.

        Well, I guess I’ll have to say something here. She took a deep breath.

        “Fluttershy,” Rarity suddenly said, “I want you to promise me something.” Her voice was hard and quiet.

        “Y-yes, Rarity?”

        “Whatever else happens tonight, you will not let me speak with that… barbarian again. Do you understand?” She looked at her with a mad flicker in her eyes. “Not. A. Word.”

        Fluttershy felt her body leaning back on reflex. She gave a tiny nod.

        “Well, I daresay that could’ve gone better,” said Fancy Pants, who’d been standing off to the side a bit during the argument. 

        Rarity sucked in her breath, noticing Fancy Pants for the first time. She bowed her head a bit. “I’m dreadfully sorry for the commotion, Fancy. It was entirely my fault. I shouldn’t have let that… that…”—she breathed in slowly—“Mr. Cairn get to me. I apologize for disturbing the party like I did.” 

        Fancy Pants smiled knowingly. “Oh, it’s quite all right, my dear. Happens to the best of us. Besides”—he waved his hoof across the hall—“the party is still going, see? You didn’t disturb anything.” 

        “Yes, well, all the same, I apologize for my rudeness.” 

        Just then, a maidservant came up to Fancy Pants. She cleared her throat to get his attention, then said something to him that neither Fluttershy nor Rarity could hear. Then, just as quickly as she’d appeared, the mare was gone again, and now Fancy Pants wore a wide grin on his face. He looked at them with almost childlike glee. “Ladies? Excuse me a moment.”

        He stepped toward the center of the room, clearing his throat, and announced to the room at large, “My good mares and stallions, may I have your attention, please?” He paused, waiting for absolute silence. “I have just been given some fantastic news. It seems our other guests will be arriving shortly. Please join me out front, so that we may gift them an Equestrian welcome!”

        “Hear, hear!” somepony shouted, and the rest broke into raucous applause.

        Rarity, for her part, was eager to take Fancy Pants’s hoof as they began moving toward the front entrance. Fluttershy, on the other hand, now felt a pit in the deepest part of her stomach. She recalled what Posh Panache had said of their leader, Gilbert Whitehill, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. 

Oh, I hope he isn’t mean...


> 4 — The Frigid Foreigners
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The colors of twilight were beginning to settle in as the party assembled outside. Purple clouds floated lazily through the red skies, the light painting the walls of Canterlot orange. A cool breeze was settling in; the flowers of the front garden swayed and rocked, filling the evening air with their sweet fragrance.

Fluttershy took a deep breath of it to steady her nerves. It was never easy waiting for something to happen, but in this case, it was still preferable to the thing actually happening. It was one thing to meet new ponies, but these were an entirely different… people.

How should she act? How would they act? At least with her fellow Equestrians, she had some reasonable expectations, but these Snowbounders…

She thought of griffons fighting windigoes, and whether she could ever relate to such a thing.

“So, Fancy Pants,” said Rarity, “I did hear you correctly, yes? You said our guests would be ‘arriving shortly’?”

“Ah, yes I did.” Fancy Pants glanced around at the crowd that had assembled in front of the manor, and had been waiting there for ten minutes now. “Perhaps I jumped the gun a little bit.”

Rarity chuckled. “Oh, well. A little suspense never hurt anypony.”

Fluttershy took another deep breath.

“I must admit, though,” Rarity continued, “I’m getting a little anxious myself.” She shuffled her hooves in excitement. “It’s hard to believe that we’re finally here after all this time.”

“Indeed,” said Fancy Pants. “We stand on the threshold, in more ways than one. All we need do now is to take a few more steps.”

“Oh, are we going somewhere?”

The smell of flowers filled Fluttershy’s nose again, only this time, it did so forcibly, like a heavy breeze blowing open window shutters. She held a hoof to her face to try and dam the sudden flood of sneezes. Through her squinted eyes, she spotted Fleur de Lis sidling up to Fancy Pants with a dreamy smile.

He smiled back at her, warmly. “No, no, not at all, my dear. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“And neither would I!” said Fleur. “Imagine, forging an alliance between two great nations!”

Fluttershy tilted her head. Didn’t she say that already?

“I believe you said that earlier,” said Rarity. “Though, I can’t but agree this is still a momentous occasion.”

Fleur looked at her with an expression halfway between surprise and annoyance. “Yes… I suppose it is. Oh, my darling Fancy Pants—” she turned to him with a flutter of her long lashes “—tell me, how does it feel to be standing at the forefront of history like this?”

“It’s…” He shrugged. “Well, how does anypony feel when stepping into the unknown?”

“Oh, I know that look, Fancy.” She inched closer to him. “You’re not worried, are you?”

“Well, I…”

“Of course he’s not,” said Rarity, “After all, we’ve been preparing for this event in exacting detail. There’s no reason any of us should be worried.”

Fluttershy coughed.

Fleur again focused her attention on Rarity; her violet eyes slightly narrowed. “I should think I know when my dear Fancy Pants is a little worried, thank you.”

“Rarity is quite right,” said Fancy Pants, glancing at Fleur. “We have spent countless hours making sure everything is just so. I’m hardly worried. Rather, at this point I can only say that I’m just anxious for this party to really get started.”

Fleur frowned, her lips curling into a pout. “But, Fancy, you—”

“Pardon the interruption,” said Rarity, holding a hoof out, “but does anypony else hear that?”

Fleur looked around in confusion; Fancy Pants tilted his ear to the sky. Fluttershy flicked her own ears, listening intently to the breeze. There was something out there, all right—a sound echoing from far away in the city proper. As it grew louder, she realized it was not one sound, but many.

The first things she heard were the drums. Like thunder over the mountain, a low, steady rumble swept through the streets. It was followed by the rain-like pitter-patter of snares, the ringing crash of cymbals, and finally, the deafening blare of horns. Almost as an afterthought, the twinkling sound of a chime carried the melody like a bird chirping amidst a storm.

Fluttershy had never heard anything quite like it. It was grand and powerful—each ringing note, each beat of the drum, spoke of valiant struggle and triumph. All on their own, images of waving banners, gleaming weapons, and opulent uniforms sprang to her mind, all moving inexorably forward.

A moment later, she didn’t have to imagine it. Through the streets came the Snowbounders—an entire army of them, dressed for battle. They wore black coats with matching shakos, and most carried silver spears, swords, or halberds. Those that didn’t played instruments at the head of the column, or pulled a train of carriages at the rear.

She’d seen processions of the Royal Guard, but even they never presented with such a purely military purpose. There was complete unity to their movements, each step in perfect time with the beat of the drums, which was all the more impressive considering they were comprised of different species.

There were ponies in the formation, but they were a minority. The remaining two-thirds of them were either griffons or…

“Are those… diamond dogs?” Fluttershy looked at Rarity, who wore a hard frown on her features.

“I... believe you’re right, Fluttershy,” she said grimly.

Sure enough, there were diamond dogs among the soldiers. Their tall, wide-shouldered silhouettes were familiar and unmistakable, immediately giving her flashbacks of dark, dirty caves and their brutish occupants. These dogs seemed leaner, though. Hungrier. Their muzzles were more wolfish, their limbs sleeker—they were bred hunters, not diggers.

As the column came to the manor’s outer palisades and marched its way up the main drive, the music grew to a near-deafening volume. Fluttershy could feel the hammer of the drums in her chest; the blare of the horns rang through her ears, even as they laid flat against her head.

The music abruptly halted, but the soldiers kept the beat alive with their rhythmic steps, their legs lifting and falling in time with the cadence. A voice, loud and rough, rang out, and with a final stamp, they fell still. With another barked command, the entire procession turned as one to face the manor, their paws, talons, and hooves scraping a unified chord against the cobblestone.

An awed silence reigned for a few moments, before somepony got the idea to start applauding. Slowly, as though awakening from a dream, the assembled nobles began to stamp their hooves. Fluttershy joined halfway, timidly tapping her hooves against the ground.

“Well, they certainly make an impression, don’t they?” Rarity said with an appreciative smile.

All Fluttershy could do was nod in agreement. I’m not sure “impressed” is the right word, though.

There was movement down on the drive; a trio of Snowbounders had separated from the main body and were making their way up toward the manor. A group of ornately-armored soldiers—an honor guard of all three species—went with them.

In the lead was a griffon, and he was huge. His neck and chest were as thick as a tree trunk, holding his head at an imposing height. Each of his wings must’ve been twice as long as she was, head to tail. His fur was a sooty brown, his feathers black, and his eyes were bright and hard, peering from beneath his wide brows like a coals in an oven. Almost superfluously, he wore a dark overcoat, its red trim standing out in stark contrast against his chest.

On the griffon’s right was a diamond dog, and he was as intimidating as any of his species were—perhaps even more so. His lean frame and narrow muzzle—which seemed to show off all of his teeth—gave him a predatory air matched only by the hard look in his black eyes. He was also openly armed, his paw on the hilt of his saber as he strode forward on his hind legs. He stood the tallest of the three, a quality only aided by the plume sprouting from his cap. Despite his threatening appearance, though, Fluttershy’s gaze couldn’t help but be drawn to the earth pony mare who walked opposite him.

If a winter gale could be personified, it’d probably look like her. Her coat was the color of fresh snow, her mane as bright as a winter horizon. Everything else about her was imperious, from the way her mane was gathered in a tall tail, to the gleaming gold of the buttons on her black overcoat, to the fact that she was at least a head taller than the average mare. But all of that came second to her most prominent feature:

She was wearing the skin of a tiger on her back. Trailing behind her, fastened at her throat with a polished ebony clasp, was a cloak of black and white stripes that could only have come from a big cat.

And there’s only one way to get a cloak from a cat… Fluttershy gulped.

The mare seemed to sense her gaze. One icy blue eye stared back at her, the other obscured by the long sweep of her bangs. Fluttershy quickly looked away, shuffling a little further behind Rarity.

“Well,” Fancy Pants said, taking a deep breath. “Time to go and make history.”

Almost timidly, he stepped forward into the shadow cast by the griffon. He had to tilt his head back slightly to meet his gaze. The assembled ponies all leaned in, eager to hear what words would be exchanged between the two. Fancy Pants offered his hoof first; the griffon’s talon enveloped it in a firm shake. There was a flash of light as Photo Finish captured the moment.

“Ambassador Whitehill,” said Fancy Pants, “it is an honor and personal privilege to welcome you to my home.” He lowered his hoof, chuckling. “And if I may say, that was quite the… martial performance.”

The ambassador smiled, and in a voice that matched the thunder of his entrance, said, “Diplomacy without arms is like music without instruments. Well met, Mr. Fancy Pants. I speak for myself and all my fellow citizens when I say we are eager to begin the sharing of our cultures.”

Fancy Pants nodded. “And I as well. Perhaps we may begin with introductions?”

“Hmm, yes.” Whitehill gestured to the diamond dog. “This upstanding soldier is First Sergeant Lex, master of arms and head of security.”

The dog snapped to attention, drew his sword, and with a whirling flourish, raised it before his muzzle in salute to Fancy Pants. Light briefly glinted off the blade before he returned it to its scabbard in one swift motion. A ringing note sounded as the hilt clicked back into place. It was the only sound he made.

“I… see,” said Fancy Pants, blinking rapidly. He turned to the mare, looking her up and down. “And this is…?”

“This,” said Gilbert, looking at her with a wide smile, “is Arbiter Gladys Whitehill. My daughter.”

Surprise plastered itself to Fancy Pants’ face for a moment before he shook it off with an uneasy chuckle. “And a lovely daughter she is. With her… lovely cloak.”

She looked back at him in silence, her one visible eye hard and unflinching. Then she dipped her head in a stiff bow. “Mr. Fancy Pants,” she said, “it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Her voice was clipped and calm, enunciating her words with precision.

“And mine as well.” Fancy Pants held out a hoof, offering to take hers.

Her gaze flicked to it, then back to his face. She stood as still as a frozen lake.

“Uh…” Fancy Pants coughed, sweeping his outstretched limb back toward the entranceway. “Well, please, do come inside. I’m sure you all must be eager to partake in the feast we have prepared.”

“Business before pleasure,” said the ambassador. “We have much to prepare, ourselves.” He turned to his diamond dog compatriot. “First Sergeant.”

The dog snapped to attention.

“Secure the manor and begin unloading the artifacts.”

Whipping a paw to the visor of his hat, the sergeant spun on his heel and marched off, leaving Fancy Pants looking rather flustered. He cleared his throat.

“Excuse me, Ambassador,” he said, holding up a hoof, “but what is it you intend to do?”

The barking sound of orders being given rang out from the drive. The mass of soldiers heaved and flowed, breaking into smaller crowds and swarming around the carriages and toward the manor. Whitehill glanced back at them before looking at Fancy Pants curiously.

“Why, to begin the festivities, of course.” His long brows knitted together in a frown. “Is this not acceptable?”

Fancy Pants looked around at the griffons taking to wing above his home, and the ground-bound soldiers surging up to the front doors. When he turned back to the ambassador, he wore an over-wide grin. “Of course! Why wouldn’t it be?”

The griffon’s beak parted in a grand smile. “Excellent. Now come, I am eager to see your home.”

Fancy Pants shook himself, a genuine grin asserting itself over his features. “Yes, and I am eager to showcase it.” He motioned to the front doors. “Please, come—” he cut off as the Snowbound mare, Gladys, swept past him, her tiger fur cloak shimmering as she walked. “…inside.” He had to take a step back as Gilbert followed suit, his wide steps carrying him quickly through the doors. A second later, Fancy Pants was all but lost in a sea of black uniforms as the crowd of soldiers marched past, filing into the manor with a practiced efficiency.

Fluttershy drew herself back as they passed, her ears flat against her head. She could hear the clomp of their feet, the rattle of their weapons. The last time she’d heard such a sound, Canterlot had been attacked by Changelings. A shiver worked its way up her back, despite the warm evening.

“Talk about a home invasion,” said Rarity, failing to hide her  surprise. Her expression was shared by most of the surrounding aristocrats, who watched the train of soldiers with eyes wide and jaws agape. A few turned and began whispering with each other while others looked positively incensed.

Fancy Pants wore a similar expression, revealed as the last of the Snowbounders disappeared inside. His trademark monocle hung by his side, having come loose during the tumult. Without any motion save the flicker of his horn, he reseated it over his eye. He shook himself out of his shock a moment later, hurrying after them as fast as he could.

The guests looked around confusedly, until Fleur stepped out of the crowd. Her expression full of worry, she galloped after Fancy Pants, passing through the open doors with her dress flying behind her. The remaining ponies followed after her more cautiously, as though they were entering a cave they knew to contain a slumbering bear.

“I suppose that’s our cue, Fluttershy,” said Rarity. “Let’s not leave Fancy Pants to face these… visitors alone.”

Fluttershy gulped. I don’t think I’d want to face them even with an army of my own. “Are you sure, Rarity?”

“Well, we can’t just stand here. After all—” she drew herself up, fluffing her mane with one hoof “—this is what we spent all day preparing for. Now we just need to seize the day! Come along, now!”

With a determined spring in her step, Rarity joined the crowd pushing its way through the doors. Fluttershy took a deep breath, and followed along, now quite certain that she was stepping into a bear’s den.






“Well, they’re certainly nothing like I’d imagined. So much marching and sword-rattling!”

“What kind of diplomatic mission brings so many soldiers?”

“Did you see those canine brutes? One of them looked at me like I was dinner!”

“I can’t believe that mare. Who wears the skin of another animal so casually like that?”

“I just hope they have something more to offer than fancy uniforms and weapons. Isn’t their country supposed to be rich in gems or something?”

Snippets of conversation flitted through Fluttershy’s ears like birds among tree boughs as she and Rarity made their way through the crowd of guests. She couldn’t help but notice that a lot of what they were saying mirrored her own thoughts. 

They brushed past a pair of Snowbound soldiers—one diamond dog, one pony. They both looked at her with intensity, their hard eyes leering out from beneath the brims of their shakos. She shrank back on reflex, hurrying forward to catch up with Rarity.

There were even more soldiers in the middle of the foyer. They swarmed around the steps, under the balustrades, and down the hallways in groups of four or five, all moving to the direction of the canine first sergeant. In the center of the maelstrom was Fancy Pants, who was speaking rather frantically with Gilbert Whitehill. Both he and his daughter cast their gazes around the room. The former seemed to be eyeing the decorations with approval; the latter’s expression was unreadable.

“Oh,” said Rarity, “do you think they like the decorations?”

Is that really what we should be focusing on here, Rarity? “Um, maybe?”

“Let’s see if we can’t find out. It looks like Fancy Pants could use some help, anyway.”

Rarity made a beeline for the trio, stepping out from the crowd. Almost immediately, a pair of armored soldiers stepped in to block her way.

“Wha—excuse me!” she said, stamping a hoof. “I am trying to see my friend there.”

One of the guards, a diamond dog, looked down at her. He growled.

Catching the edge of the exchange, Gilbert turned around. He waved a claw at the guard. “Stand down. Let them through.” 

The guards parted way for them; Rarity frowned at them as she passed, tossing her mane back with a “Hmph!” Fluttershy followed with her head lowered and her ears laid back.

As they came close, Gilbert spoke again. “These are the two you spoke of?”

Fancy Pants nodded. “Indeed they are. Ambassador, these two ladies are Rarity and Fluttershy. They’ve been assisting me with the preparations for this event.”

“Truly?” He bowed his head to the two of them. “Then you ladies have my thanks as well as my greetings.”

“The pleasure is mine, Ambassador,” said Rarity.

Fluttershy swallowed the lump in her throat. Up close, he certainly looked the type to fight windigoes. “Um… pleased to meet you, Ambassador.”

“Now, which of you is responsible for these decorations?” He cast a talon around the room. “It gladdens the heart to see our nation’s colors displayed so proudly.”

“Ah, for that, you can thank Ms. Rarity.” Fancy Pants motioned to her. “She is the one who designed the interior for this evening.”

Gilbert dipped his head to her again. “You have my thanks once more, Miss. Your commitment speaks highly of you and your nation.”

Rarity covered her mouth with a hoof. “Oh please, Ambassador. It was nothing. I’m always eager to partake of new styles. If I may say, your fashion trends are a delightful challenge to emulate.”

“Hmm…” He looked her up and down. “Indeed. You would be the envy of any lady in the Republic with that dress.”

“Oh, stop!” Rarity giggled. “Ambassador, you’re too kind.”

He nodded, and rounded on Fancy Pants again. “Now, Mr. Fancy Pants, shall we continue?”

Fancy Pants shook himself. “O-oh yes, of course! Right this way, Ambassador. I’ll show you to the gallery, the garden, the—”

“Where is your hearth?” said Gilbert, his voice stern.

Fluttershy thought Fancy Pants’ expression couldn’t get any more surprised; she was wrong. “I-I beg your pardon?”

The griffon gave a sagely nod. “A home’s character is best measured by where its master keeps his hearth. Where do you keep yours?”

“Uh… I suppose that would be the main dining hall, but—”

“Excellent! Then we may begin the feast, as well.”

“But,” Fancy Pants held out a hoof, “surely you wish to inspect the grounds for your displays?”

“I will supervise that effort.”

Fancy Pants turned, as did Fluttershy and Rarity, to the source of the voice. Gladys Whitehill looked at all of them, her lone eye somehow seeming to stare at each of them at once. And to freeze any response in its tracks.

“Thank you, Gladys,” said Gilbert, nodding appreciatively. “Now come, Mr. Fancy Pants. There is much to discuss, and it is best to discuss it with a full stomach and a roaring fire.”

Fancy Pants blinked; his monocle looked ready to fall from his face again. “Very well.” Clearing his throat, he announced to the room at large, “Ladies and gents, if you would follow us to the dining hall, we will begin the feast.”

The assembled aristocrats glanced among each other, a few muttered with one another. They continued exchanging words even as the crowd began shifting toward the hallway. A few gave worried glances at the soldiers hovering over their every step. Fluttershy and Rarity fell in behind Fancy Pants and Gilbert as they led the way.

“This is all very unorthodox,” whispered Rarity, casting a glance to the griffon.

Fluttershy matched her low volume easily. “Well, he is from a different country. Maybe this is perfectly normal for them?”

“Somehow I doubt a regular Snowbound social event is so… impersonal. I mean really, is it too much to ask for a little small talk?” She shrugged. “Oh well. Hopefully, there will be plenty of time for mingling at the dinner table.”

Mingling… Fluttershy took a deep breath to steel herself. Here we go again… 





A roaring fire added its crackling noise to the room as ponies began taking their seats. One of Fancy Pant’s maidservants prodded the logs with a fire poker, sending sparks billowing up the chimney like a flurry of disturbed fireflies. Another was busy lighting the sconces along the walls and the candelabras on the table. Matched with the red color of the walls, the lighting gave the dining hall a fiery hue quite at odds with the decorations in the foyer.

Fortunately, Gilbert didn’t seem to mind. “Ah, here is a hall fit for a feast!” He gave a deep laugh from his stomach, thumping a talon against the table. The mare lighting the candles jumped, looking at him with wide eyes before quietly going back to her work. Gilbert looked across the room and said, “I can see why you would want a large hearth here, Mr. Fancy Pants.”

“Y-yes.” Fancy Pants coughed. “Indeed. Well, by all means, ambassador, please enjoy it sitting down.” He motioned to the chair immediately to the right of the head of the table, near the hearth. A placard in front of it bore the ambassador’s name.

Gilbert nodded. “By your leave, Mr. Fancy Pants.” His claws clicking on the hardwood floor, he made his way to his seat.

“Ladies, to your stations, please,” Fancy Pants whispered to Rarity and Fluttershy before moving to take his own seat at the head of the table.

“Quickly, Fluttershy,” Rarity said, “it looks like he’s going to need our help.”

These aren’t ‘battle stations’ we’re going to, are they? She swallowed hard. “Okay.”

Their “stations” were near the head of the table—the same two chairs they had sat at earlier that morning, in fact—helpfully marked with placards bearing their names. Fluttershy checked the names next to hers; Rarity was on her left, and to her right…

“Um, Rarity, I think we’re missing somepony.” She pointed to the name: “Bright Stone.”

Rarity held a hoof to her mouth. “Oh, that’s right! The Chancellor is absent this evening. Well, we’ll just have to make do. Stand to your post, Fluttershy.” Tossing her dress about, she settled into her chair.

Battle stations… Fluttershy sighed, and took her own seat. Just across the table, Gilbert Whitehill was settling into his own position with a creak of protest from the chair. He sat to Fancy Pants’s immediate right.

“Hmm…” His thoughtful tone rumbled across the table. “I see many familiar faces.”

“Oh, yes,” said Fancy Pants. “The seating arrangements were chosen specifically to encourage conversation. I thought dinner would be better served in the company of friends.”

“Three good meals a day is a bad living.” A white glow shone across the table as Avant Garde pulled a chair out for Silk Stocking. “Unless, of course, they are spent with friends. Mr. Whitehill, it is good to see you.”

“The feeling is mutual, my friend.” Gilbert offered his talon in greeting. “It has been a long road.”

Avant Garde gave him a hearty hoof-shake. “And yet Fortune has borne you here safely. Indeed, we have all come far. Oh, but where are my manners? Mr. Whitehill, may I introduce the Lady Silk Stocking.”

He bowed his head respectfully. “And a lovely lady she is. How do you do, Miss?”

Silk Stocking looked over at him. Her sweet smile gave way to a grimace as she coughed into her hoof. “Pardonnez-moi,” she said, “I am a little, how do you say, ‘under the weather.’”

Now that she was looking, Fluttershy could see Silk was indeed looking ill. Her eyes were downcast, devoid of the energy she had possessed earlier. The tips of her ears drooped, and her breath was slow and shallow.

I’ll have to keep an eye on her, thought Fluttershy. It certainly seemed like Avant Garde was preoccupied, settling into his chair without a glance in her direction.

“Ah, here we are!” Posh Panache sidled up to his appointed seat, twirled his bicorn hat into the air, and sat down. His hat settled onto the back of the chair a moment behind him. “Highly convenient, these little things.” He picked up his nameplate, and after a moment’s inspection, set it on top of his hat.

Across the table, Gilbert inclined his head. “Mr. Posh Panache.”

“Mr. Whitehill, you old raptor! How are you?”

“Hale, hearty, and hungry. Yourself?”

“Peppy, purposeful, and positively poised to partake of prized provisions.” He hammered a hoof on the table, setting the silverware rattling. “So, when’s chow, anyway?”

“Not for a while yet, I’m afraid,” said Fancy Pants. “The kitchen staff had not anticipated serving quite this early. It will take a while for Golden Skillet to rally his troops, as it were.”

“Then we have plenty of time.” Rarity planted her elbows on the table, folding her hooves in front of her face. “Mr. Whitehill, could you indulge my curiosity and tell us about your country? I only know what I’ve seen in pictures, but it seems there’s plenty to see.”

“Indeed.” He played his talons on the table. “Where to begin?”

Posh held up a hoof. “How about the time you saved a hapless airship and its incredibly handsome captain from the clutches of a horde of windigoes, all by your lonesome?”

Fluttershy frowned. “Um… I thought you said he was with some other griffons?”

“Details, details.” Posh waved a hoof in dismissal. “A good storyteller doesn’t let those get in the way.”

Gilbert chuckled, the low rumble sweeping across the table and rattling the glasses. “It seems you are already familiar with that tale, so I shall not repeat it.”

Posh’s ears drooped, the corners of his mouth sagging as he pouted. “Aw, but it’s such an arresting anecdote! Surely you could treat us all to one quick telling?”

“I’m sure you’ve told it far better than I ever could, Mr. Posh Panache.” He looked back to Fluttershy. “Let us ask you, then, Miss Fluttershy.”

“M-me?” she squeaked.

“Yes. The rest of these esteemed ponies have given their due.” He gestured around the table. “Now let’s hear your voice. What have you not heard about the Republic? What would you like to know?”

“U-um, well…” She looked around at all the staring faces, wracking her brain.

What did she want to know? Maybe it was best to deal with the elephant in the room. Goodness knows elephants needed to roam free once in a while.

“…I noticed you have a lot of diamond dogs with you. Um, maybe you could tell me about them?”

“Yes,” Rarity chimed in. “Here in Equestria, they’re a rare sight. And, no offense, but they’re usually not a welcome one, either.”

“Hmm…” Gilbert stroked his beak. “This is news to me. But then, you ponies do not have the experience we do. Dogs have always been a part of the Republic, after all.”

Fluttershy tilted her head. “You mean, they’ve always been friendly?”

Gilbert chuckled. “I know a great many dogs who would balk at being called such. ‘Friendly’ is not the correct word, for the Republic has seen its fair share of strife. We were born from it, after all.”

“Much like our own Equestria,” said Avant Garde.

“So I understand. You Equestrians had your three tribes, we had our three species.” He shook his head. “But this is all so long-winded. I won’t impose the story on you until the tour.”

“Oh please,” said Fancy Pants, “don’t let that stop you, my good sir.”

“Very well then.” Clearing his throat, Gilbert leaned in, drawing the ponies around him in closer. “Now, to understand who we are, you must first understand where we come from. Ours is a harsh land. It has always been harsh. Ponies, griffons, dogs… we are all born of the driving snows, and that is what has bound us together.” 

He cast his eyes down to the white of the tablecloth. “Understand, our homeland is not bountiful like your Equestria. The soil there is hard and stony. When winter comes, the very earth freezes to its roots.” He held up a talon, showcasing his claws. “But, that is no matter to a dog.”

Fluttershy tilted her head, one eyebrow raised. “So, the dogs are your farmers?” They certainly don’t look like farmers with those weapons and armor…

He nodded. “Many are, yes. They till the soil, break the frost, and sniff out new lands on which to grow. Planting the crops, however, they leave to the ponies. And with griffons bringing rain, we grow more than enough to sustain us.”

Avant Garde smiled. “The good particular people may do separately is small compared with what they may do collectively.”

“Mr. Garde speaks the truth. But it was not always this way. In the beginning, being ‘together’ did not bring good tidings. We know not where our peoples journeyed from, but when they found the land which would become the Republic, they began to quarrel over it.”

“Very much like our own history,” said Avant Garde, nodding.

“It took much time and hardship to learn how to cooperate.” He sat back, grinning. “And it is all thanks to Temeraire.”

Temeraire? Fluttershy frowned. “Who is that?”

“Who Temeraire was is simple.” Gilbert hoisted his head high, his chest filling with pride. “He was the founder of our Republic, the one who first united us. I have spoken of the turmoil our people faced in the beginning. There was once a time when the strife of our three groups reached its peak, and when winter came, it brought the most foul of beasts with it.”

“Windigoes!” Posh Panache pointed across the table with both hooves. “It was windigoes, wasn’t it?”

“If only it were so simple. No, the threat which Temeraire faced was far deadlier.” Gilbert lowered his head, as though he were telling a tale around a roaring campfire. “He faced the great frost wyrm, a monstrous dragon whose breath could freeze the very air. It is said that it clawed its way from beneath the frigid depths of the earth. Its coming was heralded by a lashing blizzard. A single touch to its hide would leave you frostbitten. And it sought to destroy everything in its path, consuming all who stood in its way.”

Fluttershy shivered. Dragons generally weren’t the friendliest creatures—one little purple dragon excepted, of course—but this one sounded downright evil; not a beast she’d like to meet, much less look in the eye.

“The frost wyrm preyed upon all three species. None could oppose it. But then came Temeraire, who battled the beast and took its frigid heart for all to see.”

“The Bleeding Heart,” said Rarity.

Fluttershy looked at her sharply. “You know what he’s talking about, Rarity?”

Rarity blinked, looking around. “O-oh, yes. Did I not mention it? Fancy Pants sent me some photographs of it as part of the preparations for the party. We set aside a special place in the gallery for it.”

“Indeed,” said Fancy Pants. “The Heart is to be the centerpiece for this whole affair.”

We’re going to show off a bloody heart? Fluttershy looked between her two friends confusedly. I think I was better off not knowing.

“Forgive me, Monsieur,” said Silk Stocking, her expression mirroring Fluttershy’s concern, “but do you really mean to present a… dragon’s heart tonight?”

Gilbert laughed. “It seems we have all taken the wrong trail here. The Bleeding Heart is merely the name given to it. What I speak of is a gemstone.”

“And a beautiful one, at that,” said Rarity. “I must say, I was quite taken with it when I saw the pictures.”

“Yes, it is. Whether it truly is the heart of some great beast, even I cannot say, but it is nonetheless a great relic. Our greatest, in fact. It ties us to our beginning, a constant reminder of the struggles we have faced and overcome.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Whitehill,” Rarity held up a hoof. “I do have one question. Who was this ‘Temeraire, exactly? Where did he come from?”

Gilbert folded his talons on the table. “That is a question no one in the Republic knows. Temeraire’s appearance, his origins, and personal life are not known.”

“Well, surely somepony has gotten curious at some point? A historian, perhaps? Please, I mean no disrespect, but I’m very interested.”

Gilbert nodded, pointing at Rarity’s dress. “The silk your dress was made from, it must have come from somewhere, yes?”

“Well, of course,” said Rarity, blinking. “It’s from Saddle Arabia.”

“Yes, but do you know the exact creature which spun it, or the weaver who weaved it? Do you know the route it took traveling to Equestria? Do you know if it rained, or if there were clear skies during its trip?” Gilbert raised his eyebrow.

“I…” Rarity shrugged. “Well, I suppose I don’t.”

Gilbert chuckled. “But does that affect how beautiful it looks on you? What matters is what you did with it, not where it came from. Temeraire is the same. He was neither pony, nor griffon, nor diamond dog, and yet he was all three at once. Temeraire is, more than anything, an ideal to strive towards, and you cannot put a face on an ideal.”

Rarity furrowed her brow, her eyes distant with thought. “So, how do your artists portray him, then? I’d imagine there must be any number of statues in his likeness back in the Republic.”

“Even if it were not against our laws to do so, no citizen of the Republic would dare depict Temeraire.” Gilbert’s voice deepened, an edge working its way into his words. “He is sacrosanct. To portray Temeraire is tantamount to defacing our very constitution. And the punishment for such is as severe as the Republic can administer.”

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” asked Rarity. “What good is art if one can’t freely express oneself as an artist?”

Gilbert shook his head. “Temeraire is above all of that. What he represents is far more important than any painting that could ever be painted, or any drawing that could ever be drawn.”

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “What could be more important than the freedom to express oneself?”

“The Republic,” answered Gilbert evenly.

A quiet descended on the table. Rarity and Gilbert stared at one another, her eyes as hard as his. Fluttershy could see that she was biting back a comment, and had a pretty good idea of what it was. Even with the roar of the nearby hearth, she could feel a chilly atmosphere creeping in.

“Well!” Posh Panache said suddenly. “That’s an interesting way of doing things. A national mystery! It certainly challenges the imagination.”

“Yes,” said Rarity slowly. “I suppose it does leave one free to imagine things.”

“Oh, indeed. Hmm… I’d wager this Temeraire must’ve been a handsome fellow to rally everypony to his cause.” He glanced at the back of his chair. “Or else he had a really big hat.”

Gilbert let out a laugh. “Perhaps. Though, I question whether one’s authority is measured by their hat.”

Posh grinned wide. “Well, sir, allow me tell you the story of one Tam O’Shanter and his majestic pillar of hats…”

Fluttershy let out a sigh through her nose. At least it seemed the chill wind had passed for now. Truth be told, even she wasn’t sure if she agreed with what Gilbert had said, but what was she to do? Maybe this was just how it was when two cultures finally met. There was bound to be some friction.

She glanced at Rarity. Her eyes were downcast, her brow furrowed. Fluttershy knew that look; Rarity was doing her best to bury her feelings. When that happened, it was best to simply let her dig the hole and pack the dirt in around her misgivings. They could always talk about it later. Maybe the rest of the party will improve her mood.

“Pardon me, but is this seat taken?”

Before she even turned around, Fluttershy knew who it was, the hairs on her neck standing on end. The chair next to her glowed with a golden aura, and sure enough, there was Cavalier Cairn, settling in with the most carefree smile she’d ever seen.

“I’ll just help myself, then.” He turned his gaze around the table, his expression like that of a wolf among sheep. “Unless there are any objections?”

Fluttershy swallowed the lump in her throat. Or not…