> Dreams of Falling
>  by Llyander
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1 - Family Traditions.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter One
Family Traditions.


Life on a farm was all about routine.
The changing of the seasons, the growing of the crops, there was a rhythm to it as sure as Celestia’s sun rose in the morning and Luna’s moon at night.  The last month, however, had been anything but routine.  Mourne’s introduction to farm life had not exactly gone well and the reporters and photographers from Canterlot had been a near constant burden until the Mayor had stepped in and threatened them with expulsion from Ponyville if they didn’t respect the Apple family’s privacy.
Being the “royal coltfriend” certainly came with its share of new annoyances and irritations that had to be dealt with, that much was sure.  Would Mac change it for the world?  Nah, probably not.  It had taken a while, but things with Luna had also settled into a comfortable routine since that night in her chambers.  Luna often called in to his dreams when she was not holding Court.  It was a chance to catch up and discuss their days, to spend time together away from prying eyes and sensitive ears, and each weekend they visited together in person, whether that be in Canterlot or in Ponyville.
Speaking of routines, fitting Mourne into the farm routine had proven to be a challenge of an entirely different nature.  The prickly bat pony didn’t lack for strength or stamina, but he preferred working in the pre-dawn and dusk hours and his skills around the farm were...well, let’s just say it was just as well he was a royal guard rather than a farmer.  It had taken the chickens near a week to get back to laying after that particular incident and the less said about his applebucking attempts the better.  He was slowly getting to grips with things but he still required a whole lot of supervision to make sure he did the job right.  
Still, for once Mac didn’t need to worry about any of that.  This was his weekend off from chores and it was Luna’s turn to visit Ponyville.  He had a plan for how they were going to spend their day together.  He hummed quietly to himself as he assembled what he would need on his bed.  Blanket, tackle box, lures, fishing rods, lunch was already packed and waiting downstairs, he only needed to load it into the picnic basket.  Fluttershy usually needed re-stocking once a month so this was the perfect chance to get away from town and share this more private pastime with the Night Princess.  He stepped away from the bed, nodding in satisfaction before turning to look out the window.
“Hi Mac!”
He was quite proud of the fact that he didn’t jump higher than Rarity’s cat when presented with an actual live mouse when he came near nose to nose with the town’s resident mailmare, Ditzy “Derpy” Doo, hovering right outside his window, a bright smile on her face as she gazed at him with those not-quite aligned eyes. 
“Miss Doo,” he politely replied, even more proud that his voice didn’t betray just how fast his heart was beating at this moment.  Seeing somepony right outside his second storey window was definitely not something he was going to get used to anytime soon.
“Got a letter for you, figured you’d want this one hoof-delivered as quickly as possible going by the return address,” she explained as she rummaged in her mailbags, only just avoiding drifting forward and banging her head on the window as she did.  “There we go, got it!”  she crowed as she pulled out a white envelope and passed it across to him.  “That’s it for today, Mac.  Have a good one!”  She waved merrily and turned to fly away, swerving wildly towards the wall of the house before she regained her bearing and headed back to town.
Mac watched her go with a wry shake of his head before looking down at the envelope.  He turned it over between his hooves and frowned as he saw the plain black type on the back.  ‘Canterlot Department of Agricultural Affairs’.  It was rarely a good thing when the CDAA got involved in rural matters, that was for sure.  Best to open this where Granny and AJ could see it too.  He clomped into the bathroom for a quick brush of his teeth, wouldn’t do to stun Luna with his morning breath, and then headed downstairs to join the family.
“Mornin’ AJ, Granny.  Where’s Bloom?”
“She’s already out crusadin’,”  Applejack gave a long-suffering sigh before taking a spoonful of her oatmeal, adding a little more syrup.  “She grabbed an apple on her way out, said somethin’ about, heck, ah don’t know, was barely awake mahself.  Ya know what they’re like.”
“Eeeyup,” he agreed as he helped himself to some oatmeal from the pot on the stove before he took his seat at the table.  Granny Smith nodded cheerfully at him, then frowned, spotting the envelope as he set it down on the table.
“What’s that ya got there?” she asked.
Applejack looked up as well, peering curiously at the white paper.  “Aw no.  What does that buncha paper pushers want now?  If this is another new tax, ah swear ah’m gonna…”
Mac tugged the envelope open, quickly skimming over his contents.  A frown formed on his face that only got more pronounced the more he read.  “It ain’t a new tax, but it’s gonna mean more work for us.”  He sighed as he pushed the paper over to Applejack, who glanced down it with a deepening frown before quickly summing up for Granny Smith’s benefit.  “They’re bringin’ in new regulations on the transport o’produce t’Canterlot, Granny  They’re demanding more information an’documentation with every shipment.  Says it’s due t’some suppliers tryin’ tah pass off substandard produce they’ve bought from outkingdom.  Means more work and more paper with every damn cartload for us honest farmers.”
Applejack scowled and only just resisted the urge to crumple the paper up and toss it at the wall as Granny shook her head.  “Figgers,” the old mare said simply.  “Ain’t nothing in this world truer than death an’taxes unless it’s red tape.”  
Applejack grunted in agreement and gulped down the rest of her breakfast before roughly pushing the bowl away from her and thrusting her chair back from the table with a loud screech of wood on wood.  She swept her hat from the hook by the door and planted it atop her head.  “Ah’ll be in town today, Mac.  Rarity’s asked for some help with some repairs t’the Boutique, her roof got all banged up in the last storm.  Ya still goin’ fishing with the Princess?”
“Eeeyup.  She should be arrivin’ anytime now.  Ah got everythin’ ready upstairs.”  Winona’s excited barking presaged the arrival of their guest and Mac smiled as he turned to the door.  “Speakin’ of Princesses…  C’mon in, Luna.  Door’s open!”
“Good morrow, Apple family,”  the midnight blue alicorn cheerfully greeted as she pushed the door open, stepping nimbly over Winona as she did so, the dog dashing between her legs in an effort to entice her into playing.
“Now cut that out, Winona!”  Applejack blurted, trying and failing to keep the embarrassment from her voice.  “Princess ain’t got time tah play with ya right now.”
“It is quite alright, honest Applejack.  We had a pet much like your Winona once upon a time.”  Luna smiled as she picked a stick up from the yard with her magic and tossed it away, Winona streaking after it with an excited bark.  “She would play from dawn till dusk if she could.  If only we were all so carefree.”  She let the door swing closed behind her once more.  “And we must again remind thee that it is just Luna.  Here I am merely the marefriend of your brother, not a Princess of Equestria.”
“Uh-huh,” Applejack deadpanned, watching the alicorn duck to avoid scraping her horn on the cabinets, her wings setting the plates on the drying racks to clattering as she brushed up against them.  “Lemme know how that works out.  See ya later, Mac, Pr-Luna, Granny.  Ah’ll be back for supper.” She slipped her stetson atop her head and trotted out.
“Nice tah see ya’gain, Princess,”  Granny Smith waved a hoof towards the table.  Luna shook her head with a rueful smile, but did not comment as Granny rolled one shoulder in a half shrug and winked at her.  Some things required no words.  “T'ain’t no fancy Canterlot grub, but y’all are welcome t’take breakfast with us. Oatmeal’s on the stove as usual, an’we got some syrup if that takes yer fancy though ah know y’ain’t much a’one for the sweet things.”
“It would be our-my-pleasure, Granny Smith.  Thank you.”  Luna swooped in to kiss Mac’s cheek before she slipped into the chair across from him, her magic quickly applied to spooning some oatmeal into a bowl.  “Oh, I don’t know…” she drawled, giving Mac a half-lidded gaze as her lips twitched playfully upwards.  “I can think of one sweet thing I have grown most fond of.”
Mac did his best to hide his blush, ignoring Luna’s smug little smile.  “How was Night Court?”  He asked once he’d finished his own breakfast, pushing the bowl aside before pouring himself and Luna some coffee from the pot.  “Any more nonsense from the nobles?”
“Nay, none tonight.  In truth it was a pleasure for it to return to peace and quiet,”  Luna replied as she ate her oatmeal, giving Granny Smith an appreciative nod and smile for the simple repast.  Under the table, however, her hooves were up to things far less innocent.  Mac stiffened a little in his chair as he felt the tip of her hoof sliding up along his leg, brushing along the sensitive curves of his inner thigh before dropping away again, stopping just short of touching anything too intimate.  He shot her a glare over the rim of his coffee mug but she continued speaking as if there was nothing untoward going on at all.  “Some reporters attempted to gain access once more, but we again informed them that all further questions should be directed to the Royal Press Office rather than taking time from important petitioners.  I will admit to taking some small pleasure in the looks on their faces as they were escorted from the hall.”
Mac nodded, glancing out the window towards town.  “They’re less willin’ to come out t’the farm since Mourne made his presence known here.  Pushin’ farmers around is one thing, tryin’ t’do it tah a member of the Night Guard is somethin’ else.”  He wasn’t about to take her teasing lying down, no sir.  He shifted in his seat in turn, his own leg stretching out to return the favour.  He was, however, slightly startled when Luna not only adjusted herself to press into his touch, he soon found his hoof sliding quickly towards parts that definitely shouldn’t be touched at the dinner table, and certainly not with your Granddam sitting right there!
“Speaking of our wayward child,” Luna looked around, her eyes glittering with mischief, not a trace of hesitation or even a quaver in her voice to betray what Mac’s hoof was doing to her beneath the tablecloth, “does he not join you for breakfast?”
Mac shook his head.  “He mostly keeps t’hisself.  We’ve made up a place for him in the hayloft, takes his meals out there most days.  He joins us for dinner from time t’time but he ain’t really a great one for talkin’.”
Luna pursed her lips, giving a slow shake of her head.  She was on the offensive again even as his hoof pressed right between her legs, sliding along her inner thighs to tease over the sensitive flesh that lay there.  She remained on the offensive, returning the attentions every bit as eagerly with her own hooves.  It wouldn’t be long now before he was going to have to either make his excuses and flee from the table or sit there and stall for time until certain things calmed down.  “We sent him here for more than just physical labour.  We had hoped that he would grow to know thee and thy family and understand why his initial beliefs were so wrong.  Is he at least assisting thee with questions and concerns when it comes to the dealings within the noble court?”
“Eeeyup, he’s good with that.”  Mac paused long enough to reach down and tap her hoof twice, inclining his head in what a casual observer might take for a simple moment of reflection.  Luna hid her smile of triumph behind her mug as she took another long sip of her coffee, her hoof falling away from his groin and returning to the floor.  Mac cleared his throat and went on.  “He keeps an ear t’the ground, that one.  He lets us know about anythin’ he hears, how it might affect us.” Mac paused a moment, then shrugged.  The bureaucrats of the CDAA were hardly something that Mourne or his ‘contacts’ in Canterlot would concern themselves with.  “We’ve had a couple of folks sniffin’ around the farm, hopin’ t’try and use our relationship for their own ends, askin’ me tah put in a good word with ya about their services or wares in return for a discount.”
“And what did you do?”
“Told’em that if they were that confident in their product, they should take it straight t’the crown rather than tryin’ tah get me t’vouch for’em.”  Mac shrugged.  “Ain’t got no time t’play mare in the middle.”
“Indeed,”  Luna’s spoon scraped around the bottom of her bowl as she stared down thoughtfully into the remains of her breakfast.  “We will need to speak to Mourne again, it seems.  He may be abiding by the letter of his punishment, but not by the spirit of it.”
Granny Smith chuckled.  “The boy’ll come around eventually, mark mah words.  Stubborn as a bull, that one, but we’ll make him see the light, right Mac?”
“Eeeyup.  But that’s for another time.  For now, we need t’be hittin’ the road.”  He pushed back from the table.  “Sun’s up, sky’s clear and the river’s waiting for us.”
“River?”  Luna rose with him, her head cocked quizzically.
Mac grinned.  “Ever been fishin’, Princess?”


*****


“So we just...sit here?”
“Eeeyup.”
“....how long does this normally take?”
“Takes as long as it takes.  Might be minutes, might be hours.”
“Oh.  We did not know that fishing was such a…”
“Yer bored, aintcha?”
“Of course not!”  Luna sat up, nearly tipping her fishing rod from its simple y-shaped wooden mount.  She fussed with the hat perched atop her head, snorting up at the floppy rim that kept trying to obstruct her view.  Mac was laid out alongside her, a sprig of wheat protruding from one corner of his mouth, his eyes closed, face a picture of calm and serenity.  “We just did not realise that fishing was such a...laconic activity.”
“Iff’n it’s more exciting fishing y’all are after, we could always head out to the coast.”  He finally opened his eyes and turned towards her.  “Couple o’cousins ah mine run a fishin’ boat out in Baltimare.  They’ve always got tales o’some huge fish they’ve seen and nearly caught.  T’hear them talk their boat’s near eaten whole every other month.”
Luna hmphed as she settled back down.  “Well, perhaps we do not need to go so far as all that.  You have our apologies, Mac.  We, I, did not really know what to expect.”  She settled back down, giving a little tug at her fishing rod, watching the lure jiggle in the water.
Mac grinned as he rolled onto his side to watch her, just drinking in the sight of her there on the grass.  There she was, an immortal alicorn, one of the rulers of Equestria, used to walking the corridors of power in Canterlot and mingling with the nobility.  Here, though, she was prodding at a fishing rod like she didn’t know which end was which with a look of intense concentration on her face that was both sweet and hilarious in equal measure, her star-filled mane swaying in the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves above them.
Planted atop her head was one of his daddy’s old fishing hats, worn and sagging, the brim constantly trying to slide down over her muzzle every time she thought she had it perfectly adjusted.  Again, there was that strange moment where he tried to picture her like this every day, tried to see her in the simple, homely surroundings of the farm, and...the image simply wouldn’t come.  It slipped away every time without fail, leaving behind only a lingering sense of confusion.
“A bit for thy thoughts, Mac?”
He blinked.  Dangit, had he been staring again?  He sighed and rolled back over, shifting his weight as he stalled for time, only to find the sun disappearing behind a strangely heavy starfield as she simply straddled him and leaned in close, her mane blocking out the world till there was only the two of them, muzzles so close they could feel the warmth of each other’s breath. 
“Ah guess part of me is still waitin’ for the other shoe t’drop,” he admitted at last.  “Ah try...ah try t’imagine us growin’ old together, well, me growin’ old anyway and…”
“And you cannot see it?”  She sighed quietly as he shook his head.  “And so because of this you hold your breath, waiting for the moment when I will somehow come to my senses and realise that the reporters and gossipmongers are correct and this relationship is doomed?”
“Well, when ya put it like that…” he muttered, “but eeyup.  Ah wonder if this is what’s gonna make ya truly happy, Luna. Ah can’t give ya riches-”
“We have plenty of those already.”
“Or fancy living-”
“We are quite comfortable as things are, yes.  You speak as if this will somehow change should our relationship progress.”
Mac frowned, huffing in frustration.  “Ah’m sayin’ this all wrong.  It’s kinda hard t’think with ya on top of me like this.”
“Why Mac, are you saying I am a distraction?  But surely my standing here cannot be so off-putting as all that.”  There was that glimmer of mischief in those deep blue eyes once more as she slowly settled down atop him, sliding her sleek frame against his broad one, her haunches wriggling ever so gently as she nestled right between his.  He tensed, breath catching in his throat as she made sure there was not even a breath of light or air between them.
“That ain’t playin’ fair,” he finally found voice to whisper, feeling his cheeks burning as she leant in closer still, till her lips brushed his with every word.
“Princesses never play fair, Mac,”  she breathed.  “I would have thought you would understand this by now.”  
“Uh-huh.  Ah kinda noticed that at breakfast.”
Luna grinned broadly, shifting against him, her belly slipping against his as she teased him once again.  Her legs pressed a little more firmly between his own, her soft coat teasing over other, more sensitive parts lower down as she wriggled sinuously against him.  “We did not hear you complaining.”
He tried to glare at her, but it was so very difficult when she was looking at him with that almost childlike glee on her face.  This, he had quickly learned, was a side of her personality she rarely got to show, the teasing, flirting mare that she truly was when away from the pressures of Court.  She had become almost a different mare since after the night they’d shared together.  No, that wasn’t quite right, she wasn’t a different mare.  It was simply that, in Ponyville at least, she could truly be herself.  “Not like ah could say 	“Hey Luna, mind stoppin’ playin’ hoofsie with me in front of Granny?”  He muttered with a snort.
“We cry your pardon, Mac.  We did not mean to embarrass thee in front of thy family.”
“Uh-huh,” he drawled.  “Ya didn’t?  S’kinda hard t’believe ya with that look on yer face.”
He had to give it to her, she really did try not to grin, but no matter how hard she tried to school her face into a look of contrition the corners of her mouth insisted on curving upwards.  “Well….maybe a little,” she finally admitted.  “Will you let us make it up to thee?”
She didn’t wait for a reply.  Instead, her lips found his and all the protests, all the concerns, drifted away.  For one sweet, perfect moment there was nothing but the touch of their bodies, the smell of her in his nostrils, the feel of her mane sliding against his neck and chest.  He doubted he would ever tire of the feel of her, the taste of her, each kiss as sweet and thrilling as that first one on the dance floor all those weeks ago.
He could feel her pressing down harder against him, sense the tension in her wingbases as they threatened to spread over him in that oh-so amusing display of arousal and excitement, hear her breath deepening as the kiss drew out.  In the midst of this tangle of bodies Mac was dimly aware of a splash from the river behind them, but it wasn’t until he noticed the high-pitched whine of the line rapidly unwinding from the reel that he realised what was going on.  Snorting in excitement,  he lunged for Luna’s fishing rod before it could fall into the slow-flowing waters, the Princess of the Night sliding off him with an undignified squeak of surprise.
“Hah!  Ah knew there were fish here, ah could smell’em!”
“Mac!  What do we do now?”  She scrambled to sit beside him as he passed the rod over to her, helping her adjust her grip as she clenched it eagerly between her forehooves, her eyes wide and excited.
“Alright.  This is a bit easier for ya with your magic.  Ya wanna keep a nice firm hold on the rod and start reelin’ it in.   That’s it, just like that,” he coaxed as the aura of her magic surrounded the reel and began so wind it back in.  “Gentle and slow’s the way now, don’t wanna rip the hook out an’let it get free, and there’s no need t’cause more pain than we have to.  Keep it slow and steady, don’t fight’im.  That’s it.  Ya just keep doin’ as you’re doin’ and ah’ll get the net and the bucket.  Miss Fluttershy keeps’em in her pond till one of her animal friends needs’em.”
Luna nodded, biting down on her bottom lip in concentration as she painstakingly reeled her quarry in.  She could feel the tension in the rod, feel the line tugging and jerking as the fish struggled to escape.  “This is a most curious sensation,”  she noted at last.  	“To know that there is a living creature at the end of this line, that we do this for...food.”
“Everything’s gotta eat.” Mac replied pragmatically.  “Ah know some pegasi are fond a’fish.  Gryphons and dragons eat all sortsa things, and Fluttershy’s bear friend can’t live on just nuts’n’berries.  Still, eeyup, you’re right.  It’s a strange thing for a pony t’do.  Mah daddy did it, though, and his daddy ‘fore him.”  Mac paused, then tilted his head towards her.  “That’s his hat you’re wearin’, as it happens.”
She blinked, nearly losing her grip on the fishing rod in surprise as her hooves jerked up towards the hat she had spent most of the afternoon silently cursing in between attempts to make it stay in place.  “Truly?  You did not mention this before!  What if we had sat on it?  Or dropped it in the water?  We could not be responsible for deprivin’ thee of a memory of thy sire!”
Mac laughed and nuzzled at her cheek.  “Whoa, whoa, deep breath there, Princess.”  He grinned as she glowered at him.  It had almost become a game now, using her title instead of her name, it never failed to drag her attention back to him.  “First off, this ole hat’s been sat on, trampled on, dropped in the mud,  rained on, bled on, and repaired more times than ah can count.  He wouldn’t thank me for leavin’ it hanging up in some cupboard at the farm.  Eeenope.  He’d be pleased as punch t’see mah marefriend wearin’ it, ah can promise ya that.  Course, he’d be even happier if that marefriend managed t’land herself a fish as well.”
Luna stuck her tongue out at him, then squeaked in surprise and excitement as a silvery tail lashed at the surface of the water, the rod vibrating with the fish’s effort to break free.  Little by little her patience won out and soon enough they had the still weakly struggling trout neatly scooped up from the water and into Mac’s net.
“If ya could do the honours, Luna?”  Mac gestured to the hook.  She nodded and withdrew it quickly and easily with her magic, watching as he let it slip from his hooves and into the bucket of water.  “Sorry we gotta do this, little one.”  He rested a hoof on the edge of the bucket as he addressed the fish that was now slowly swimming around its new, smaller home.  “But everythin’ has t’eat.”
“You have a kind heart, Mac.”
“S’pose ah got a different outlook than a lotta ponies,” he replied as they sat once more.  Mac reeled his own line in, checked the intricate lure in the shape of a small insect, then flicked it neatly back into the water with one smooth, well-practiced cast.  “Mah daddy taught me how t’make the flies, the lures we’re usin’.  Ah remember lazy days with him down by this very river, how he’d listen t’me talkin’ about everything and anything.”
Luna’s smile grew a little more sad as she tried to picture him as a garrulous young colt.  The image just didn’t sit well with the often silent stallion sat beside her.  “So what changed?”
He grunted in assent but didn’t look at her, gazing out over the water but not really seeing it, his expression growing distant.  “After the accident, the funeral, ah just...stopped.  The words didn’t want to come.  Naw, that ain’t right, it just...it stopped matterin’ for a while.  Took Granny remindin’ me that Applejack had lost her parents too before ah started talkin’ again.  Even now ah find it easier t’listen than to talk.”  He paused, and now he finally did lift his head to gaze over at her, a half-smile on his lips.  “Except when ah’m around you.  You make it easy, Luna.  T’just let the words come out.  That some sort of alicorn juju?”
Luna laughed musically and set her fishing rod aside, sliding along the grass to lean against Mac’s side and wrap one wing around him to hold him close.  “You have been speaking to the stars and the moon for years, Mac.  In a way you’ve been talking to me ever since my return from exile.  Perhaps you’re just used to it?”
“Didn’t realise the moon was such a smartflank at the time,” he deadpanned with a wink and a nudge of his shoulder against hers.  “Mighta been a bit more careful what ah said to her.”
Luna pouted, her bottom lip trembling quite convincingly.  “Is that all you have to say about my flank?  Celestia has poems written about hers!  Sonnets!  Even some rather risque plays.”
Mac blinked.  “Really?”
“I may have made the last part up,” she admitted, “but the rest is entirely true.  My Sister’s somewhat plush behind is most admired both far and wide.  Kibitz, her assistant, regularly screens out some of the more, how shall we say, impolite fanmail that particular part of her anatomy receives.”
He stared at her and she stared back, innocently fluttering her eyelashes.  “Uh-huh,” he drawled at last.  “Would ya like me to write a sonnet about your behind then, Princess?”  
“I’d prefer something other than a sonnet.  I’ve always been rather fond of haiku, actually,” she said after she’d finished glaring at him.  “Have you ever studied that particular poetry form?”
“Can’t say as ah have.  Is that one of those poems where things don’t rhyme?”
“Indeed.  There are many rules for haiku.  They come from Neighpon originally but they’ve rather fallen out of favour these days.  Modern poets complain that their structure is too restrictive, too limiting.  Personally I always thought it a true test of any worthy author, to still be able to express their emotions and ideas within such a rigid framework.”
There was a lull in the conversation, the two of them sitting comfortably side by side, letting the silence fill the air between them.  Sometimes you didn’t need words, they both understood that.  Sometimes you said just as much by saying nothing at all.  That said, there was something that had been niggling at the back of Mac’s head for a while now, a question that you didn’t really just up and ask royalty, not unless you fancied spending the rest of eternity freezing or burning, depending on which Princess you asked.
“Ah want t’ask ya something,” he ventured slowly and carefully.  “But ah ain’t sure if it’s the type of question ya should be askin’ a Princess.”
“Oh my.  We are intrigued, Mac.  Is it a personal question?”  She leaned in closer as she spoke, “An INTIMATE question, perhaps?”  She sat back, melodramatically fanning her muzzle with a wing, “Why Mac, we did not know you could be so daring!”  	He just stared at her until she looked away, stifling her giggles behind one hoof.  “We cry your pardon, Mac.  You just look so serious!”
He could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, making him stumble over his words.  He took a slow breath, shaking his head.  “Ya’ve got to know mah family pretty well.  You know we’re pretty acceptin’ of most folks, an’the fact ya go out of your way t’leave any airs and graces behind goes a long way with the Apples….”
He trailed off and Luna’s smile faded a little as she sat up straighter.  This was, it seemed, a more serious question than she’d been expecting.  “What do you want to know, Mac?”  she asked simply. 
“Do...do you and Celestia….did ya have parents?” he finally managed to stammer the words out, his ears pinning back to his head as the last syllable left his lips.  Well, no taking it back now.  There was another long, long silence.  It drew out so long that in the end he had to turn his head to actually look at her.  She had her head bowed, a frown on her face.
“Do you know I...I do not actually remember?”  she laughed softly, a little bitterly.  “As far back as I recall there has only ever been Tia and I, and in later centuries Cadance and now Twilight, but…dear Mac, you must understand you are asking me to recall something from millenia ago.”
“Ya mean you don’t remember everything?  Ah guess everypony just always figgered a long memory would go with the long lifespan.”
She shook her head.  “No mind, even that of an alicorn, is strong enough to endure the weight of so many memories, I suspect.  Now, though, you have my curiosity piqued.  What else does ‘everypony’ say about us?”  Luna asked.  “We hear some of the rumours and gossip from the maids and guards but few are brave enough to openly ask us such questions.”
“Well…  Some say ya were raised up from common ponies by some kinda higher power.  God, Goddess, the Universe, Faust, Eternity, everypony’s got their own name for it.  Others say that you two have always just been here.  That ya sprang fully formed from nothing.”
Luna nodded, her expression distant.  “I remember...warmth,” she said at last.  “Tender voices, feelings of being protected and loved, but...not faces.  I could not even tell you if they were alicorns or something else.  Are those memories of my parents or my creators?  I could not say for certain one way or the other.”  She gave herself a little shake, sitting straighter.  “Celestia may remember more, her mind was always the more orderly of the two of us.  I have always been the more capricious.”  She smiled and stroked his cheek with a wing.  “But you have not offended me.  With family being so important to the Apples I dare say I’m surprised you didn’t ask before now.”
Mac shrugged.  “Like ah said, ain’t really the kinda thing most folks would think of asking a Princess.  You and Celestia, you’re kinda like fixed points.  The center of Equestria.”
Luna pulled a face, sticking her tongue out. “Please.  My sister and I are by no means divine,” she paused, “though I will admit that the naked midnight orgies to celebrate our moon were rather flattering, and surprisingly good fun from time to time.”
Mac just stared at her, his mouth opening and closing like a landed fish until she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose.  “Oh Mac.  You are so easy.”
Another loud splash from the water ended the conversation as this time it was the tip of Mac’s rod that jerked and twitched.  He snorted at the still-grinning Princess before grabbing up his rod to quickly reel his catch in.  Luna picked it up in the net and within moments it joined its compatriot swimming slowly around the bucket.
“How many do we seek?”  Luna asked as he flicked his rod back, then sent the line arcing forward over the water, his lure landing with barely a ripple.
“Mmm.  We’d like six, ideally.  If we were fishin’ for Harry then we’d need t’head further afield for bigger fish.  Lil things like this are for the falcons and eagles, should do’em a few meals.  They’d be scarce a mouthful for him.  Ah usually spend the day here, head back t’town when the sun’s going down.  That okay with you?  Ya don’t need to be back at Canterlot for anything?”
She smiled as she rested her head down on his shoulder, her eyes closing as she rubbed her cheek against his coat.  “That depends.  Did you bring any of Granny’s surprisingly delicious apple fritters for lunch?”
He grinned and turned to kiss her nose. “Naturally.”
“Then we are content to remain here.  Of course we would be more content if there was a bottle of Apple Family Reserve in that picnic basket as well,” she added, that mischievous grin playing over her lips once more.  Mac leaned down to kiss those smiling lips and nodded to a small circle of rocks in the water where two bottles were bobbing gently, kept cool in the running water.  “As if ah’d forget.”
“Huzzah!”  She clopped her hooves together in delight and snuggled herself a little closer to him.  “Then let the fishing trip continue!”
Mac shook his head, stifling a snort of laughter.  “As her Majesty commands.”  The two settled into a companionable silence once more before Mac spoke up again.  He’d been momentarily distracted by images of orgies, but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten that their conversation had ended without much in the way of an answer.  “It doesn’t bother you?”
Luna’s ears twitched. “Mmm?”
“What ya said earlier, that ya don’t remember, well, where you came from.”  He nuzzled into her mane.  “That doesn’t bother ya?”
“No,” she replied.  “If we had parents, they are long dead by now.  If we had creators, they are long gone from this realm.  In the grand scheme of things, it matters little.  The fact that Cadance and Twilight both ascended from humble beginnings would suggest that we were raised up from common ponies.  The question of ‘why’ is certainly an intriguing one, but neither Tia nor myself try to dwell too much on the past.  We prefer to keep moving forward.”
“Ah guess part of it is comin’ from such a big family as ours, we always had an interest in our roots.  Auntie Golden Delicious is the keeper o’the Apple family tree, she knows everything about everypony that was ever born, died or married in t’this family.”  Mac hmmed quietly, then finally shrugged and let the matter drop for the moment.  There were limits to how far you could push a princess, even if she was your marefriend.  “Well, where ya came from don’t rightly matter.  Ye’re here now.”
“Indeed.”  She smiled as she snuggled in a little closer to him, her eyes closing as a slow, contented sigh escaped her lips.  “And at this moment, there is nowhere in Equestria I would rather be.”
> Chapter 2 - You Got What you Want.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 02
You got what you want.


The rising sun would not be denied.  He rolled over and tugged the blanket over his head with a muttered curse as he tried to escape those blinding shafts of light that were beginning to filter into his snug, warm sanctuary.  Just a few minutes more.  He could surely get a few minutes more slee-- The crowing of the rooster split the air and Mourne sighed, pulling the blanket back down before pushing it aside and rolling out of his cot, hooves thumping down onto the floor of the hayloft he now called home.  He smacked his lips, running his tongue over his teeth before grabbing for the mug he’d left by the bed the night before and quickly washing his mouth out with the stale water.
Sitting back down on the edge of the bed he glanced out the window that looked over Sweet Apple Acres, rubbing absently at a sore spot on his shoulder where the edge of his wooden cot had dug in.  They meant well, but this bed just wasn’t designed for a pony with wings.  Looking out over the grounds he caught sight of a familiar hat just before it disappeared around a corner.  Applejack was already tending to her morning chores and if she was up and about then that meant the rest of the Apples would be up as well.  How she managed to be so cheerful this early in the morning he would never know.  It had been a month now since his assignment here and he still wasn’t used to getting up this early in the morning. 
Wincing as he leaned over and into the full glare of the rising sun, Mourne stifled an angry hiss, his ears pinning back as he dove under the bed for the darkened lenses he was forced to wear on his face during the daytime.  Dammit, where were they?  Ah! Sighing in relief he slipped them on, hooking them somewhat awkwardly into place and giving a flick of his ears to settle them so they were just right.
“Mister Mourne?  You up yet?  Yoohoo, Mister Scary Batpony!”
He couldn’t quite keep a shudder from running down his spine at that high-pitched voice.  Applebloom.  
At least she wasn’t too intolerable when she was alone, but when those other two were with her...he’d swiftly learned not to involve himself in any of their so-called ‘crusades’.  It had taken a week for the scorch marks on his behind to fade from his one and only attempt to help them in this apparently relentless pursuit of cutie marks.  He would never understand how such obviously intelligent and resourceful fillies could ignore what was so blatantly right under their noses if they only took the time to think about it.
“Mister Mourne?”
“I’m awake, Applebloom,” he sighed at last.  “You can come in.”
The door to the barn creaked open and the little filly trotted in, a bright smile on her face.  Balanced nimbly on her back was a tray supporting a bowl of oatmeal and a small jug of syrup.  “Ah brought you breakfast.  Applejack figured you wouldn’t be eating with us again.”
“She figured correctly,”  he replied as he spread his leathery wings and swooped down from the hayloft to land near-silently in front of the wide-eyed filly.  “I prefer to eat alone.”
“Wow,” she breathed, her eyes widening further as she pointed a hoof at his side.  “What did THAT?”
He blinked, then cursed silently to himself.  She’d never seen him without the armour on.  He turned his head to look back at the three long, angry scars that ran along the length of his left flank, barely missing the base of his wing by a feather-width.  Tucking his wing down to cover the scars he frowned as he looked down at those big, eager eyes.  “An accident on my first mission,” he growled, hoping that would be answer enough for her.  It wasn’t, of course, those wide eyes getting even wider as she slipped the tray from her back and set it on a nearby hay bale before sitting down, silently begging to hear the rest of the story.
He managed not to sigh out loud.  Well, there was nothing for it now.  The sooner the story was over and done with, the sooner he could eat breakfast.  “One of my first missions with the Night Guard was to do a sweep of a mountain pass, looking for a missing trader and his caravan.  I found them cornered in a cave by a manticore.  They’d managed to use their carts to block the cave entrance and keep it out but they were trapped inside.”
Applebloom gasped.  “Oh wow.  I’ve heard Fluttershy talk about manticores before, she’s friends with one, actually!  Well, kind of.  She stopped it eating Rarity once and now she says he comes to visit her sometimes.”
Mourne blinked, then shrugged.  Well, all things considered that was one of the less odd things he’d heard since arriving here. “So, being young and foolish and full of myself, I didn’t do the smart thing and go for help.  Instead I charged the manticore in the name of Princess Luna and my very first mission almost became my last mission.  It became obvious in moments that he was not only bigger than I was, but a lot stronger too.  The only advantage I had was that I was faster than him and I had my armour to help protect me.  It was a hard fight, but in the end I was able to drive it away.  I convinced it that the traders weren’t worth the hassle of getting past me, but he gave me a good mark to remember him by.”  He shifted his wing again to briefly display the long scars.  Applebloom leaned in to get a better look at them, a little shiver running through her.  He’d been in the infirmary for nearly two weeks while they healed up and another two weeks on light duty after that.  They’d cut closer and deeper than he would ever admit.  “It’s not something I’m proud of, Applebloom.  It was a painful lesson I learned then.  I’d been a fool to start that fight.”
This was most definitely the abridged version of the story.  He didn’t think he felt the need to detail how he’d worn the manticore down with cut after cut, darting in to slash with his wing blades before dodging away.  The ponies in the cave had cheered him on until they saw the manticore get in a blow solid enough to rip his armour off and send him sprawling with three long, bloody slashes down his flank.  Only sheer instinct and ingrained reflexes had saved him, he’d been so dazed he could barely see straight.  The manticore had closed in for the kill, only to receive two armoured hooves smashing into its muzzle as he’d bucked out instinctively.  That had finally been enough to convince it that this particular prey simply wasn’t worth the effort.
“But...the ponies in stories, the heroes, they all have scars!”  she protested.  “They earned them honourably in battle!”  She reared to her hind legs, dancing back as she jabbed her forehooves at an invisible opponent.  “All the fighting and glory and honour and stuff!  Isn’t that why folks join the Guard?  T’fight  in awesome battles?”
Mourne sighed softly and shook his head.  This little filly had most definitely been hanging around that pegasus, Scootaloo, far too much.  That was the sort of thing he’d have expected her to come out with.  “No, Applebloom.  Ponies who join the Guards just to fight in “glorious battles” usually...well, let’s just say it doesn’t end well for them.  There’s a saying, you know.  There are old guards and there are bold guards, but there are no old bold guards.”
Applebloom frowned, her ears splaying out in confusion.  “So, but, why’d ya become a guard then if not for the fightin’?” she asked, her brow furrowed and an innocent look of curiosity on her face.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again just as quickly.  Foal or not, she’d asked a serious question so she deserved a meaningful answer.  Why had he become a member of the Night Guard?  Contrary to popular belief it was by no means mandatory that batponies had to sign up for military service.  Before Luna’s return they were little more than a ceremonial guard with no real duties to speak of, little better than living gargoyles.  He’d signed up knowing that, knowing that all that waited for him were years of tedium and empty ceremony.  Why had he done that? 
“For a chance to help my fellow ponies,” he whispered at last, mostly to himself.  “I joined, even before the Mistress had returned from exile, even when we were little better than curiosities for tourists to gawk at, because I wanted to serve.  I wanted a chance to make Equestria a better, safer place.  There are things in the darkness and the night, Applebloom, and little ponies like yourself need to be protected from them.  That’s what the Night Guard does.  The Solar Guard is the shield of Equestria, the Night Guard are the blade.  We don’t do it for glory, riches or recognition, we don’t seek out battle but nor do we shun it when it comes.  We do what we do to protect all the ponies of Equestria, we do it for our Mistress, Princess Luna.  We serve in her name.”
He cleared his throat, glancing awkwardly off to one side before he hastily picked up his breakfast and began eating.  Applebloom was still staring at him, but now that look of awe was replaced with something more thoughtful.  “You fight so mah brother doesn’t need to.  That’s why you’re here, ain’t it?”
He nodded slowly.  “In part, yes.  By being involved with the Mistress, McIntosh Apple is now--” he broke off before he could use the words ‘a target’.  He didn’t need to go frightening her.  “McIntosh is an important pony now and that changes a lot of things.  He needs somepony else to help take care of him and advise him on all the things he needs to know.”
“But you fought with him when ya first got here, didn’t you?”  she asked in that guileless way all children seemed to have when asking the most awkward of questions.
Mourne winced.  Well, there it was out in the open.  He was surprised she hadn’t asked him about that before now.  “Yes, that’s true.  I fought your brother, I hurt him too.  But the truth is that I was wrong.  Things were...twisted in my head.  I thought I was protecting Luna when the truth was that I should have been protecting him.”
There was a loud, amused snort from the open barn door.  “Well, took ya long enough t’realise that.  Shame yer little revelation couldn’t come before ya gave me a fine set o’bruises.”
Applebloom smiled brightly as the big red stallion pushed the door further open.  “Mornin’ Big Mac!  Mourne was just tellin’ me all about being one o’the guards.”
“So ah heard,”  Mac’s tone was mild, but the look he gave Mourne was a thankful one.  “He’s right, ya know.  Scars and battles, they ain’t somethin’ any pony should go chasin’ after, not ‘less they want t’come to a bad end.  That’s the bit the storybooks always leave out.”
“I guess,” she sighed.  “The stories just always make it sound so amazing!”
“Eeeyup, they do, but that’s because they’re just stories.  Anyhow, you run along now, Applebloom.  Ah need t’talk to Mourne about what we’re doin’ today.”
“Sure thing, Mac.  G’bye Mister Mourne!  See you for dinner, maybe!”  She galloped off without backwards glance.
Mourne finished his oatmeal and set the bowl aside, looking Mac over.  “So, farmer, what will you have me do today?”
“What Luna sent ya here for.  Ah’ll be takin’ the cart into market today to set up.  Ah could do with the company, and a helpin’ hoof with loadin’ and setting up.  Ya up for it?  Already checked an’ AJ ain’t got nothin’ in particular for ya, so ya might as well come escort me, get the fine folks in Ponyville used tah seein’ you.”
Mourne sighed, loudly.  “You know the pink one will insist on badgering me.”
"Pinkie don’t mean nothin’ by it.  It’s just her way.  Y’all are new to Ponyville, ya should just give in and let her throw the welcome party.”  Mac chuckled.
“I have no intention of staying here, any party would be a waste of time.”  Mourne growled as he leapt back up to the hayloft to pull on his armour.  “I do not need a party, nor do I need to be friends with the citizens of Ponyville in order to do my job.”
“Funny, Princess Twilight felt pretty much the same when she was sent here too.  Girl had her nose buried so far in books she thought she didn’t need anypony else.  Couldn’t wait to shake the dust o’Ponyville off her hooves and get back t’the bright lights o’Canterlot.  At first.”  Mac shrugged and turned back to the door.  “Pinkie ain’t gonna stop chasin’ till ya let her throw that party.  Ya might as well just give in and get it over with.  Ah can ask her t’keep the guest list small if it’ll make ya feel better.”
"Like many ponies would come to it anyway,” he snapped.  “Oh, a party for Mourne?  You know, the batpony who threw McIntosh Apple off a roof and nearly brought about the second coming of Nightmare Moon.  That sounds like someone I want to be friends with!”
Mac paused a moment, glancing back at Mourne.  He’d grown accustomed to the batpony’s bluster in the weeks they’d been together but this time there was something else there.  Was that a trace of self-loathing for a moment?  That’d certainly explain a lot.  “We all make mistakes, Mourne.  Ponyville’s a funny place like that, though.  Got some of the most forgiving ponies y’ll ever meet.  Won’t make a lick o’difference, though, if y’ain’t willing to give yerself a chance t’begin with.”  He pointed a hoof at him.  “Ya done bucked up, that’s a fact.  Ya bucked up good and proper, but lockin’ yerself away in here every day ain’t moving forward, it’s just running away.  It’s burying yer head in the sand and it ain’t what Luna wants for you.”
“And you know this, do you?” Mourne landed in front of him with a clink of armour, his head lifted defiantly, eyes hidden behind the smoked lenses he always wore during the day.
“Eeeyup,”  Mac slowly replied.  “Ah do.”
Mourne snorted and pushed past him, flinching a little at the sunlight.  Batponies simply weren’t built for the daytime, there was no getting around it, but he would do his duty all the same.  “Come on then.  Show me this cart.”


*****


By lunchtime Mac had to admit that sales were definitely down.  They still had more than half their stock left and that wasn’t right at all.  Even on their worst days they should have be able to sell more than this and Mac was fairly certain he knew why.  Mourne had spent the entire morning standing rigidly at the other end of the stall with a scowl on his muzzle, glaring at any pony who dared to approach.
Finally Mac sighed and shook his head.  “Okay, this ain’t gonna work.  Ye’re scarin’ off half the customers.  Not everypony that walks up here is some sorta assassin or murderer but ye’re  glarin’ at every one o’em like they’re hidin’ a knife.”
“I am simply ensuring that everypony here understands that you are under my protection.”  Mourne growled, his posture unchanging.  “That is my primary responsibility.”
Mac resisted the urge to slam his hoof into his face.  “ This ain’t Canterlot, Mourne.  It’s Ponyville.  Ah know almost everypony here and ah’m pretty certain none of’em want me dead.  Look, ya know what, it’s lunchtime.  Why dontcha go to Sugarcube Corner and get us a bite t’eat.  Ah’ll see if ah can’t sell a bit more before we call it a day.”
“I can’t protect you if I’m fetching lunch,” Mourne pointed out.  “Nor do I recall signing up as a food delivery pony.”
Mac sighed, loudly.  Well, being nice wasn’t working out so...no more carrot, time for a bit of stick instead.  “Okay, lemme make this clear.  Go get lunch, Mourne.  Ye’re here t’do as we say and right now ah’m tellin’ ya to go get us somethin’ to eat.  Ye’re costin’ the farm money every minute you’re standin’ there giving honest ponies the stinkeye.  Ah can’t have ya scarin’ off all our customers.”
Mourne gritted his teeth, but he’d been given a clear order so he didn’t protest.  Instead he slammed his hoof loudly to his metal breastplate in salute and stalked off down the street without a backward glance.  Mac waited till he was out of earshot before sighing, loudly, and resting his head against the stall with a firm ‘thud’.
“That good, huh?”
“Ya have no idea.”  He lifted his head and offered a faint smile to the familiar face of Twilight Sparkle.  “Somethin’ ah can help ya with, Miss Twilight?”
“Oh, just a dozen apples, please.  Spike’s got some new pie recipe he wants to try out tonight.”  Her head turned, gaze lingering on the departing form of the bat pony.  Even from here it was easy to see the anger in Mourne’s posture, in the stiff way he walked, head held so high you’d think there was a string holding it up.  “He hasn’t relaxed at all, has he?”
“Eeenope.  Stubborn and prideful as they come.  Think it’s more than just pride, though.”  He trailed off as he bagged up the apples for her.  “Think he’s got a bit of a self-hatin’ thing going on.  He don’t wanna be helped so he pushes everypony else away.”
“He still blames himself for what happened with, you know, you and him?”  Twilight ventured.
“Mmm. He knows he done wrong with this whole thing, but there’s somethin’ more than that.  Ain’t never met a soul so dead set on not lettin’ anyone get close to him.  It’s like he’s just passin’ through.  If he don’t make any connections then there ain’t nothin’ to keep him here.”
Twilight smiled a little.  “I was much the same when I first came here, let’s not forget.  I stepped off that chariot and I was already counting the minutes till I could go back to Canterlot.”
“That’s totally right!  Twilight was a grumpy sourpants when she first arrived!  She even bailed out on her own ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party!”
Mac was, once again, very proud that he managed to keep a straight face as Pinkie Pie apparently popped out from a hedge directly behind him.  Twilight, on the other hand, squealed in fright, her mane poofing out in all directions.  “Pinkie!  How many times have I told you not to do that!”
Pinkie Pie grinned broadly, tapping her hoof to her chin.  “Specifically about jumping out of hedges to frighten you or just frightening you in general as there’s a pretty big difference there.  I’m sorry, Twilight, but I heard you talking about Mourne and I just had to come and say something!  He’s even grumpier than Cranky Doodle was!  He’s so grumpy I might even have to make up a new word to describe it!  Cangrumperous?  Churtetchish?”
“Pinkie…”  Twilight sighed.
“No wait, I got it!  Irriasciblecangrouchysourpusserous!  Isn’t that just the best word you’ve everrrphmphle?”
Pinkie blinked as a lavender hoof was planted over her mouth, silencing her midway through a word.  “We get it, Pinkie.”  Twilight said as she removed her hoof.  “And yes, you’re right, we were talking about Mourne.  I don’t think Luna wanted him to be this miserable when he was out here.  There has to be some way we can draw him out and get him talking to other…ponies....”
Twilight trailed off, staring as Pinkie puffed away on a bubble pipe, a thoughtful look on her face. “Ah yes, zis is a terrible malady that affects zis particular pony,” the party pony stated in an over the top accent that Mac could only assume was supposed to be Germaneic.  “Zere is obviously zome deep rooted issue he must confront!  Probably zomething to do with hiz muzzer.”
“Or his sister,” Mac added.  “Luna didn’t give me all the details, weren’t her story to tell, but ah’m guessin’ it’s guilt over losin’ her that drives him.  Guilt that he couldn’t help her, guilt that in tryin’ to make up for it, he nearly messed it all up with me’n’Luna instead.  He’s guilty about a whole lotta stuff but he ain’t tryin’ to deal with it, he’s just tryin’ to ignore it.”
"Oooooohhhhh.”  Pinkie puffed away on the pipe again, sending another cloud of bubbles dancing into the air.  “Zere iz only one prescription for zis!”
“Let me guess,”  Twilight deadpanned, “a par--”
“An intervention!”
Mac and Twilight blinked, exchanging worried glances.  “An intervention?  That don’t strike ya as a little much there, Pinkie?”  Mac ventured.
“Not if the intervention is disguised as a party!” Pinkie went on, hopping in place as her gleeful smile got all the bigger.  “We can invite everypony to come round and make sure he knows that we don’t all hate him for the silly things he’s done in the past.  He’s in a new town now!  A clean slate and all that, he doesn’t need to keep remembering all the icky stuff.”
“I’m not sure that’s really a good idea, Pinkie,” Twilight added.  “Remember the first time you tried to put a party on for Mourne?”
“Oh Twilight, this time will be different!  This time I won’t leap out on him from the shadows of a darkened room while yelling ‘Your time has come!’.”  Pinkie paused, gave another puff on the pipe before tucking it behind her ear.  “Iiiiinnnnnn retrospect, that probably wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had, but I thought it would get him to loosen up.”
“No parties, Pinkie, ah’m sorry.  Not yet.”  Mac shook his head as he turned back to the cart.  “Little steps for now.”  He paused and gently patted the party pony’s shoulder as she stared down the street, her mane losing a little of its lustre and springiness.  “Some things need more than a party t’fix, Pinkie.”
“But,” Pinkie protested, “but they can help...right?  They can let him know that we don’t hate him.”
Twilight looked puzzled.  “Hate him?  But we don’t hate him...do we?”
Mac shrugged.  “Doesn’t matter if we don’t.  He thinks we do.  S’pect he’s too used to dealing with the ponies in Canterlot.  You’d know better than most what that lot are like.”
“Oh,” said Twilight.  “OH!”  Her eyes widened and she nodded in understanding.  “He’s used to dealing with ponies where social standing is everything, where every slight, perceived or otherwise, is used as ammunition in the game of court.  I didn’t even think the Night Guard would be impacted by that, but think about it.  Day in, day out, he sees the nobility and what they’re like.  He probably doesn’t get a chance to mingle much with normal ponies outside of his job, with the lingering prejudice against Princess Luna, so he thinks that’s it, everypony must be like that!”  Her face fell.  “He thinks everypony must be like that...and that’s really quite sad.  Maybe you’re right, Pinkie.  Maybe we DO need to stage an intervention.  We need to show him that we’re not like the nobles, that ponies here will give him a second chance.”
Pinkie was already hunched over her party cannon, a manic grin on her lips before Twilight had even finished talking.  “Pinkie...what’s the cannon for?”  Twilight ventured.
“Silly.  For the intervention, of course!  We need to make sure he can’t try and get away before we’ve convinced him we’re really friendly so I’ve loaded this one up with extra-thick cake batter!  He won’t be able to fly off or run away!”
“I’m not sure the cannon is really such a good idea, Miss Pinkie.”  Mac said.  “Think it might kinda send the wrong message.”
“Oh.”  Pinkie pouted.  “Oh well.  I guess I’ll just have to come up with a better idea.  Don’t you worry, this is going to be great!  We’ll make Mourne see that we don’t hate him or anything!  He could have lots of friends if he’d just stop being such a meanie meanpants all the time!”  She didn’t wait for a reply, bouncing off with a determined look on her face.
“Why do I feel like somepony who’s just lit the touchpaper on a firework?”  Twilight sighed as the two of them watched the pink party pony disappearing down the street towards Sugarcube Corner.
“Eeeeyup,”  Mac replied.  Well, when Pinkie got a notion in her had there wasn’t a lot you could do about it.  They’d cross that bridge when they came to it and just hope it didn’t collapse under them.
“So, other than that, how are things going with Princess Luna?”  Twilight asked suddenly.
“Uh, fine, ah think,”  he couldn’t quite keep a silly little grin from spreading on his lips at the thought of his marefriend.  “Mah turn t’go up t’Canterlot this weekend.  Not sure what we’re plannin’ to do, Luna’s got somethin’ she’s schemin’ up but she’s keeping the details tucked under her wing.”
“Oh!  I’ll be going up to Canterlot myself.  Would you like some company on the train?”  She smiled brightly.  “I could just take a chariot, but I like to use the Express whenever I can.”
“Well now, that’d be mighty pleasant, Miss Twilight,”  he smiled.  “Some company would be lovely.  What’re y’all goin’ into Canterlot for?”
“Oh,”  and for a moment he could swear the alicorn looked a little nervous, her eyes darting from side to side.  “Princess Celestia needs to see me.  There’s some...spellwork I’ve been doing that needs her opinion.  After all, nopony would know more than her, right?”
“Ah guess,”  Mac slowly replied, trying to keep the scepticism from his face.  If there was one thing he’d learned in his time in Ponyville, it was that it didn’t pay to ask too much about the goings-on of that particular group of ponies.  Whatever had Twilight all antsy was obviously between her and Celestia and he didn’t want any part of it.  “Ah don’t know much about that kinda thing mahself.  Well, ah’m gonna head up Friday evenin’ once ah’m done with chores.  Ah’ll come by the library an’pick ya up after dinner?”
“That’d be lovely, Mac.  I’ll see you then!”  She picked up her apples in her magic and turned to leave.
“Actually Miss Twilight,  there’s one more thing, if ya got a sec?”  Mac sighed, rubbing a hoof through his mane.  “In yer time in Canterlot, did ya have any dealings with the CDAA?”
“The Canterlot Department for Agricultural Affairs?”  Twilight’s head tilted to one side.  “No, not really.  I know of them but that kind of thing is usually dealt with by the local Mayor and civil servants in each town and city.  Are you having some problems with them?”
“Eh, kinda,” he admitted.  “They’re bringin’ in new rules that’re gonna add a new big load o’red tape t’every order we ship out.  Ah just don’t see what might ha’changed.  Just wondered if ya might have anypony ya could ask about it.  AH just don’t rightly see the point of it fer good and produce from within Equestria.  Gryphon Or Zebrican, sure, but goods from Ponyville? Whadda they think we're doin’ out here?”
She shook her head.  “I’m sorry, Mac, I don’t.  It’s just not really my area of expertise.  You could ask Fluttershy about it?  She probably has to deal with them on a fairly regular basis because of her animals.  She might be able to point you in the right diretion.”
Mac grunted and nodded.  Fluttershy, of course.  Why hadn’t he thought of that?  “Thank ya kindly, Miss Twilight.  That’s a good idea.”
“Anytime, Mac. I’ll see you on Friday!”
Mac nodded absently as he turned back to the stall.  Hmm, speaking of Friday, should he ask Mourne to come back to Canterlot with him this time?  Spending some time around Luna might give her a chance to nudge the stubborn batpony in the right direction and change his disposition before Pinkie resorted...to…  Mac sighed loudly as he caught sight of Mourne trudging back towards the stall, a paper bag clutched in his teeth.  There were multi-coloured streamers fluttering in his mane and what looked suspiciously like the doughy remains of some muffins coated over his wings.
“Don’t ask,” he growled after he’d set the bag down.  “Just...don’t.”
“Told ya it’d be easier t’just agree to the party.”  Mac stifled his smile behind a blueberry muffin, munching cheerfully on the sweet treat.  “She ain’t gonna quit till you do.”
“She insisted on singing.  SINGING!”  Mourne snarled, tilting his head to the left to dislodge a chunk of what looked like balled-up confetti from his ear.  “Rrrgh. Fine.  She can throw her party.  Just...just not too many ponies.  Alright?”
“Alright?  That’s better than alright!  That’s supercalifragilistically AWESOME!”  Pinkie squealed in delight as she once again erupted from the hedge behind the stall, eyes wide, her smile from ear to ear as she came nose to nose with Mourne before he could even squeak in surprise.  “See you tonight at Sugarcube Corner.  7pm!  Don’t be late!”
“How did?  Where did?  What in the...what?”  Mourne finally managed to find his voice, but by then Pinkie was already nothing but a dissipating cloud of dust.  “I’m doomed, aren’t I?”
Mac chuckled.  “Eeeyup.”
> Chapter 3 - What if all was lost.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 03
What if all was lost.


He had faced down a manticore.
When Nightmare Moon returned, he had stood on the walls of Canterlot, ready to do what was necessary to ensure that there wouldn’t be a repeat of the Lunar Uprising.
In the changeling invasion he’d stood shoulder to shoulder with his fellow Night Guard, defending the entrance to Luna’s tower while their mistress slumbered above.  
All of that, though, paled in comparison to the challenge that faced him now and Mourne could honestly say he’d never been so nervous as he was at this moment.  The garishly pink door of Sugarcube Corner sat before him, beckoning him in.  He could see the lights on inside, hear voices raised in conversation, the occasional burst of laughter and yet he couldn’t bring himself to push that door open and face what lay within.
Shifting his weight from hoof to hoof, his wings fluttered nervously before he clamped them down firmly against his bare flanks.  Mac had been quite clear.  No armour, no weapons.  This was just a party, nothing more, and it would be hard for him to enjoy himself or get ponies to loosen up around him if he was covered in steel.  He felt...naked.  It was a strange sensation given most ponies didn’t bother with clothes, but it wasn’t just the lack of clothing that bothered him, it was the lack of any sort of barrier between himself and them.  He couldn’t fall back on the trademark guard scowl, it really didn’t work without the helmet, no matter how sharp his teeth were on their own.
At the same time, he couldn’t explain why this bothered him so much.  He’d been to gatherings of the Night Guard, royal functions, bars and nightclubs and parties of all sorts, so why was the thought of this one reducing him to a trembling wreck?  
Was it the weight of expectation, perhaps?  He was certain that when he opened that door he’d be met by accusing eyes and angry stares.  He remembered a comic he’d read as a foal, where the music always stopped playing when the villain entered the bar, much to the irritation of the piano player who seemed unable to keep it from happening.  He could almost hear the music coming to a jangling, discordant stop as every head turned in his direction.
Was he the villain of the piece here?  Ponies in small towns had long memories and it was nowhere near long enough for his earlier ‘foolishness’ with Mac to have faded from hearts and minds. No.  This was a mistake.  He took a step back, then another.  He’d just come up with an excuse, he’d even dare the wrath of the Pink One.  He should never have agreed to this.  Another step back and there was a sudden squeaking noise just as his hind legs bumped up against something.
“Ponyfeathers.  I’m sorry, I should have been looking where I was going.”  He turned around to find a vaguely familiar yellow pegasus giving him a quizzical look from beneath a mane of thick pink hair.  It took a moment before he recognised her, dipping his head in respect to one of the Elements.  “You’re Fluttershy aren’t you?  The Element of Kindness?”
She nodded soundlessly, one eye peeking out from behind her mane as she shifted her weight from one hoof to the other, never quite meeting his gaze.  Mourne cleared his throat and she flinched back, her wings fluttering nervously.  “Oh no, you don’t need to apologise,” she finally whispered in a voice so quiet he had to lean in a little closer to make sure he caught every word.  “It was entirely my fault,” she finally whispered.  “I should have been looking where I was going as well.”
“Well, it’s no bother.  I was just...leaving.”
She frowned a little, her head lifting.  “Oh, but, uhm, isn’t this party for you?  You are Mourne, right?”
“I am, but...this party was a mistake.  I should never have agreed to it.  I’ll make my apologies to the Pink One some other time but right now I think I need to get back to the farm.”
“But why?  I don’t understand.”  She frowned as she sat on her haunches, her head tilted quizzically to one side.  “Did--Have we done something wrong?  I’m terribly sorry if we have.  I’m sure none of us meant it and if you just tell us what it is we can--”
“It’s not what you did, it’s what I did,” he growled, fighting to keep the irritation from his voice.  “You all know what I did, you don’t need to pretend to be polite.”
She blinked and rocked back a little, her ears flicking.  “Pr-Pretend?  Is that what you think ponies have been doing?”
“What else would they be doing?” Mourne snapped.  “Let’s just recap what has happened since I arrived here.  I’ve assaulted a member of the Apple family, the founders of Ponyville itself, humiliated my Mistress in front of the entire court, betrayed the memory of my sister and spat in the face of everything I signed up to protect.  You can’t tell me that ponies around here are ready to forgive or forget that.”
“Well...no,”  Fluttershy admitted with a sigh.  “Not forget, anyway.  Uhm, but, I know Applejack’s already forgiven you.  With a little prompting from Twilight and Rainbow.”
Mourne snorted.  “Applejack?  She can’t even bear to be in the same room as me.  How can you expect me to believe that she’s forgiven me?”
“Oh, she just...she holds grudges sometimes,” Fluttershy admitted, moving swiftly on from that topic, “but if she wasn’t willing to let you try then she wouldn’t be letting you stay on the farm.  If she didn’t think that there was something good inside you, she’d have sent you away or told them to just lock you up.”  
Well, that was enough to give him pause.  So far Applejack’s behaviour towards him had been cool but not openly aggressive, not since that first day.  She said she was going to give him a chance and she seemed to be holding up her end of the bargain.  The Element of Honesty wouldn’t have lied about that, would she?  “Well, what about the others? What about you?”  He stepped closer and she shrank back, her tail swishing nervously.  “See?  Still afraid.  Can you honestly say you forgive me for what I did?”
Her head tilted curiously to one side.  “Oh, that’s, uh, not you.  Not you personally, I mean.  I’m scared of everything, really.  Except for my animal friends.  Well, and Discord, he’s really very sweet when you get to know him.”  The yellow pegasus brightened as she spoke about the incarnation of chaos while Mourne did his best to hide his surprise.  Well, seems the betting pool had been accurate.  Damn, that meant he was out ten bits.  He dragged his attention back to the here and now as she continued speaking.  “But, well, yes.  I can forgive you for what you did,” she replied patiently, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  “Why wouldn’t I?  You thought you were protecting the Princess, after all.  You were doing what a Guard is supposed to do...right?”
He hesitated, then shook his head.  “No.  Not really.  I did a lot of things that day, none of them things that a royal guardpony should do.  I broke the rules, I blamed an innocent pony for things that he had no control over.  How am I supposed to make up for that?”
“Weeeeelllllll….you could try saying sorry!” a new voice interjected.  “Granny Pie told me that sorry’s always the best place to start after you hurt somepony else’s feelings.  Once you get that out of the way then you can come in and enjoy the party!  Everypony’s waiting to see you, and you too Fluttershy. Gummy was even starting to say that you wouldn’t be coming.  I told him he was wrong, of course.”
Mourne hunched his shoulders and gritted his teeth before slowly turning his head to see Pinkie Pie standing on the doorstep, a wide smile on her face.  "We have cake!  And punch!" she went on cajolingly, leaning in closer as she did.  "And later on we might even play pin the tail on the pony!  Do guards play games like that?  I never had time to ask Shining Armor what kind of things the guards got up to when they weren't protecting the princesses.”  She tapped a hoof thoughtfully to her chin.  “Was there drinking involved?  Ooo, did it involve seeing who could hang upside down the longest?”
Mourne gave her a deadpan look, doing his best not to sigh out loud. “Just because we look like bats does not mean we ARE bats, Pinkie Pie.”
“Sooooo does that mean you CAN’T hang upside down from the rafters?”
“Well no, as a matter of fact we can if we like.  That still does not make us bats.”
“But you’re called batp-”  She protested before a hoof pressed to her lips silenced her.  She blinkblinked around the yellow appendage, peering quizzically at Fluttershy.
“He’s right, Pinkie,”  Fluttershy said.  “Batponies really aren’t like bats, despite their appearance and name.  If anything they’re more a kind of, well I suppose you could call them a mock bat.”
“MOCK bat?”  Mourne spluttered.  “We are nothing of the kind!”
“Oh, uhm, I didn’t mean to  imply anything. I...oh dear.  Please don’t be mad.”  The yellow mare’s voice got higher and higher as she went on, ending with her sitting in a quivering ball on the steps.  Mourne sighed, rubbing a hoof lightly between his eyes.
“You know what?  Let’s get this over with.  Right now, I need a drink.”  He pushed past the beaming Pinkie Pie and into the warmth and light of Sugarcube Corner.


*****


Mourne awoke with a start, lifted his head up and promptly hissed as it thumped into something hard right above him, then hissed again as his hangover made itself painfully obvious.  His stomach twisted even as it seemed that the simple act of blinking his eyes was enough to make his head throb in time.  What HAD happened last night?  He remembered speaking with Fluttershy outside, some bad jokes about bats and then...nothing.  There were occasional flashes, fragments of conversation, but nothing approaching coherence.  
His internal memory check revealing nothing of any particular use he slowly turned to one side, looking up in puzzlement at what appeared to be the slats of a bed.  Odd.  He slept on blankets in the hayloft, so he wasn’t at Sweet Apple Acres.  A slow survey of the surrounding environment revealed, among other things, dustbunnies of varying sizes, what appeared to be a pair of striped stockings, a cupcake that had to be stale by now and a large-eyed green alligator latched onto one of his hooves, drooling messily all over it as it peered up at him and solemnly blinked both eyes, one after the other.
While he’d certainly woken up in stranger places, and stranger situations, this one would rank fairly high on the list.  He was also fairly certainly there had never been a hungry alligator involved before now.  There was that one time with the angry gryphon, but the entire Night Guard was sworn to secrecy about that particular encounter.
It quickly became obvious he’d spent the night under somepony’s bed, and the overly rich scent of baking in the air would suggest that he was still at Sugarcube Corner.  Further investigation was proving difficult at this point as every little movement made his body ache as if he’d gone five rounds with a manticore, and then let a bear tapdance on his head as a finisher.  There were simply too many questions right now, few of them with positive or desirable answers or outcomes.   How much had he drunk the night before?  If he was in Pinkie Pie’s bedroom...what had he done and how had he ended up on the floor?
There would be time enough to worry about that later, just as soon as he extricated his hoof from that drooling maw that was still stubbornly clamped onto him.  He tugged his leg back and shook it, watching in amazement as the alligator gripped him all the more securely as it was dragged along the floor, churning up the dust and making him sneeze so hard his head jerked up and thumped into the bottom of the bed again.
“Ow!” he finally burst out.  “Luna damn it…will you just get off?”
“Oh!  That’s where Gummy got to!  Hi Mourne, why are you under my bed?” With a creaking of bedsprings the face of Pinkie Pie appeared beside the bed.  Mourne tried not to shudder as that bright, cheerful voice scraped along his senses like claws on a chalkboard.  He gave another futile shake of his hoof that resulted in little more than a slow, lazy eyeblink from the stubbornly attached alligator.
“A question for the ages, Pinkie Pie.  In truth I’m not entirely sure why I am under your bed. My memories of last night are, uhm, fuzzy to say the least.”
“I’m not surprised!  I can’t believe you challenged Applejack to a drinking contest!”  Pinkie rolled nimbly off the bed, flopping on her belly on her floor before reaching forward and tickling Gummy under the chin till the alligator released Mourne’s hoof.  He stared at his matted, dripping fur and just sighed before slowly working his way out from under the bed.
“I don’t remember that,” he admitted as he brushed some of the more stubborn motes of dust from his coat.  “Who won?”
“Uhm… I think it was probably a tie.  You both fell over right around the same time.  I’ve never seen anypony who could handle their schnapps as well as Applejack before now!  You must have a stomach made out of lead.  And rocks!  Dashie could hardly believe it!  She’d never seen anypony else last that long.”
“Hm.”  Well, that would certainly explain the hangover, but that wasn’t the burning question of the day.  “So what happened after that?”
“Well, after you and AJ recovered and Twilight used her magic to help you both sober up a bit, did you even know she could do that?  How amazing would that be?  You could go out partying aaaalllll night and POOF!” Pinkie hopped in place, her mane bouncing along with her.  “She just wiggles her hooves and you don’t need to worry about hangovers or anything!”
“If she did that, then why does my head still hurt?”
“Oh, you started drinking again, and Twilight said she couldn’t use the same magic twice so she just left you to it.  So then we danced, and played some party games and I had NO idea you once pinched Princess Luna’s butt on a dare!”
Mourne’s jaw went slack, the pupils of his eyes contracting to narrow slits. “I...I told you that?”
“Oh yeah!”  Pinkie giggled as she bounced in place, turning to begin making her bed, her tail flicking cheerfully behind her, scarcely seeming to notice as Gummy jumped up onto her back to begin gnawing toothlessly on her mane.  “We played truth or dare later on.  Gotta admit, I didn’t expect you to actually try and kiss Twilight when Rainbow dared you!”
Mourne shuddered.  Okay, first thing to do today was find a deep, dark hole to hide in.  Under a mountain.  Preferably until the world ended, or maybe even a little longer than that, just to be safe.  That might be enough to save him from Celestia’s wrath once word got out he all but sexually assaulted Twilight Sparkle, her former student and newest Princess of Equestria.  “On second thought, I’m not sure I want to know how the rest of last night went on.  Just one more question before I flee into exile for the rest of my life.  Did I do anything else that’s likely to end up with me walking downstairs to a hoof in the face?  Did I insult apples?  Did I say the Wonderbolts were the slowest fliers in the world or insist that everypony should walk around in sackcloth?”
Pinkie hmmed, rubbing her jaw thoughtfully. “Noperoonie!  Don’t think there was anything else.  After that there was some more drinking, and at one point you were on top of a table trying to get us to do some chant or creed or motto or something.  Hey, do you know what the difference is between a creed, a motto and a mission statement?  Why would we need so many different words for the same thing, assuming they are the same thing!  Is this like when they say the Stalliongradian’s have twenty six different words for cold?”
Mourne barely resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall, settling instead for a long, drawn out sigh.  “The Night Guard creed.  It’s... a promise to ourselves, to the Mistress, to all the ponies we protect.  I think I need to make a new promise, and that’s to never try drinking that much again.”
“Awww.  But why not?  You were laughing and joking and weren’t such a meany pants to everypony!  You don’t have to push us all away, y’know.  We’ve all forgiven you for what you did, we can see you trying to help out Mac and Applejack.”  Pinkie’s hoof came to rest lightly on his shoulder as she spoke.  “We forgave Princess Luna, we even forgave Discord.  Why wouldn’t we forgive you?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again.  “I...well, when you put it like that…”
“See?”  She giggled as she hopped away to bounce on her bed.  “It’ll be fine!  Now, you might want to go home and, uhm, brush your teeth or something.  Your breath is kind of stinky and you look like you spent the whole night sleeping facedown on the floor!”
“Funny that,” he deadpanned, then nodded slowly.  “Thank you, Pinkie.  I...appreciate the pep talk.”
She smiled widely, pausing in her bouncing a moment to give him a serious look, one hoof thumping to her chest as she pulled herself up to stand at a reasonable approximation of attention.  “What do we do when our enemies surround us and our comrades fall?”
He chuckled, shaking his head as he turned to leave.  “We stand, Pinkie.  That’s what the Night Guard does.  We stand.”  He returned her salute before pulling the door shut behind him and walking gingerly downstairs, trying to tread lightly to avoid aggravating his already aching head, exchanging brief nods with the Cakes as they busied themselves with getting ready for the day.
“Well, if it isn’t Smoocheo.  Better not think about putting any of those moves on Twilight again, buster, or I’ll have to do something about it.  Not sure what but...something!”
Mourne blinked, looking around in confusion before lowering his gaze to come near nose to nose with the glowering face of Spike.  The little dragon snorted, a wisp of green flame curling from one nostril.  “Twilight told me what you did.”
“I see.”  He paused a moment.  “Was she...upset?”
“Upset is one word for it.  She was up half the night pacing, muttering to herself.  I could hardly sleep she was making so much noise!  In the end I had to move down to the library.  That was just after she started getting the flipcharts out.”
Mourne slowly blinked.  “Flipcharts?”
“And flash cards.”  Spike stepped in closer, prodding him firmly with one stubby claw.  “You’d better get over there and apologise to her!  In fact, I was going to get us some muffins for breakfast but maybe you’d be better taking them over to her as a way of saying sorry.  Mrs Cake?  Can I have special order number five?  You’d better make it a double.  Smoochie here will be picking up the tab.”
Mrs Cake opened her mouth to comment, but one look at Spike’s frown was enough to convince her that discretion was definitely the wisest choice.  She nodded and disappeared into the back of the shop, leaving Mourne alone with the dragon.
"Sooooo…” Morne finally sighed as the uncomfortable silence stretched out between them.  “I didn’t mean to do anything to upset or embarrass the Princess.  I’d…had a little too much to drink.  I have nothing but the greatest respect for Twilight Sparkle.”
“That’s PRINCESS Twilight Sparkle to you.”  Spike snapped, folding his arms across his chest.  “You’re lucky she told me I wasn’t allowed to tell the other Princesses about this or you’d be on the surface of the sun by now!”
Mourne cleared his throat, shifting nervously from one hoof to another, reminded quite unpleasantly of his own thoughts from mere minutes before.  “Look.  I’ll take these over to the library and apologise to the Princess and...I’ll buy you a whole box of cupcakes for yourself.”
“What?  You think you can bribe-”
“With emerald sprinkles.”
“...make it ruby sprinkles and you got a deal.”
"Done.”  
Hoof met clenched fist in solemn accord and Spike finally cracked a smile, giving a rueful shake of his head.  “Seriously.  Of all the ponies you could have kissed, why Twilight?”
“I’m not sure if this is a trick question or not.  Which answer won’t get me set on fire?”
Spike laughed.  “Never mind.  You know, you’re alright, Mourne.  Maybe you should let Pinkie throw you a party more often.  You’re a lot nicer afterwards.”
“I think I prefer to retain what little dignity I have left.  Thank you, Mrs Cake,”  he added as he accepted the surprisingly heavy brown paper bag from her. “And a dozen ruby cupcakes for my scaly friend here.  Is it alright if I settle up with you later?  I need to get these over to Tw-Princess Twilight’s place before she works herself up any more than she already has.”
“That’s quite all right, deary,” the plump mare assured him with a warm smile.  “You go do what you need to.  I’m sure a member of our royal guard is good for the bits.  Spike, I’ll have those cupcakes ready for you in a jiffy.  Just promise me you won’t eat all of them in one sitting.”
Mourne didn’t wait to hear any of the dragon’s no doubt unconvincing claims that he wouldn’t simply gorge himself into a stupor, scooping the bag up in his mouth and trotting out, hurrying down the street as quickly as his hangover would allow.  The morning sun greeted him like a pair of daggers to the temple, the harsh golden light forcing him to narrow his eyes to the barest slits.  He’d never intended to be out all night so his lenses were back in the barn. The thumping inside his skull intensified, joined now by rising nausea as his body decided that it had really had just about all the abuse it was willing to take in twenty four hours.  Nevertheless, he had a mission to complete and so he set his shoulders and continued down the road, exchanging little nods with the ponies he passed until he stood before the unassuming door of Golden Oaks library.
He lifted his hoof, took a deep breath and knocked firmly on the door, trying not to flinch as each impact of his hoof on the wood made his head throb.  He waited a few moments, head cocked and ears perked for any sign of movement within.  Nothing so far.  He knocked again, then gently tested the door.  It swung open easily and he tentatively poked his head inside.  “Princess Twilight?  It’s, uhm, Mourne.  I...brought you some breakfast as a peace offering?”
The library was dark and ominously silent, the curtains still drawn.  Ignoring the prickling sensation between his shoulderblades he pushed the door all the way open and stepped inside, closing it gently behind him.  “Princ-”
The word died in his throat as every fibre of his being, every instinct as a guard, screamed that he was now in imminent, mortal danger.  He turned slowly around, coming nearly nose to nose with the lavender alicorn.  Her horn was shining, her wings spread, her face an angry scowl. “I...brought muffins?” he tried, slowly lifting the bag up with one wing.  “Order number five?”
Her eyes flicked to the bag, then back to his face.  Her horn flared and he flinched, closing his eyes and waiting for the lash of her magic.  If he was lucky maybe she would just teleport him into a mountain.  That would at least be over quickly.  Seconds ticked past and he slowly opened first one eye, then the other.  He was alone.  He sagged back against the door, wiping his forehead with a shaky hoof.  He’d survived.  He’d rather pile candy at the hooves of Nightmare Moon than go through that again.
“Through here, Mourne,”  her voice came from the kitchen and for a moment he began to think he might get out of this intact, right before she said those four words.  Those four words that every stallion dreaded hearing, the ones that would make send your stomach plummeting towards your hooves.  “We need to talk.”
On second thoughts, maybe he was still doomed.  Well, it had been a good life all in all, he supposed, the last few weeks notwithstanding.  He’d got to kiss one Princess and pinch the rump of another, not many ponies could say that.  He gathered the tattered remnants of his pride and courage and trudged through into the kitchen to meet his fate.
> Chapter 4 - Down the Line.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 4
All down the line.

In life you had silences and you had silences.  Usually, silence didn’t bother Mac.  He was comfortable with himself, with his thoughts, with the world around him, content to simply keep himself to himself and observe.  But right now?  This silence?  This most definitely fell into the latter category.  It was strange, Mac mused to himself as he turned to again gaze out the window of the train carriage, watching the world rushing by outside, how silence could also be so very noisy.  There was nothing still about this, nothing even remotely peaceful, just the silence between him and his travelling companion that seemed to stretch out till it was almost a tangible thing.
Sitting opposite him was Celestia’s personal student, the Element of Magic, town librarian and newest Princess of Equestria, Twilight Sparkle.  Mac had never been so aware of just how much their lives differed as each did their best to not look like they were uncomfortable with the situation.  
Sharing a train to Canterlot sounded like a good idea but really, what was there he could talk to her about?  He wasn’t a great scholar, nor a world-saving, demi-god wrangling hero.  He was just a farmer and not a very chatty one at that.  The irony of the situation and its comparisons to his relationship with Luna weren’t entirely lost on him.  There was, however, one question gnawing away at him that meant he could break this akward silence.  “What did y’all say to Mourne?”
“Hmmm?  What was that, Mac?”  She looked up from the book she was reading, some magical tome that Mac wouldn’t even begin to guess about the contents.
“Mourne,” he repeated.  “He came back t’the farm afore we left lookin’ like the sky had fallen on him.  He wouldn’t say nothin’ about what had happened, just mentioned that he’d been to see you and we should leave it at that.  Then he hid in the barn the rest o’the morning.”
Twilight ah’ed and glanced off to one side, clearing her throat.  “We just had a little discussion about his...indiscretion...at the party last night and I explained why he should never attempt anything like that with myself or any of the other Princesses.”
Mac rubbed a hoof against his chin.  “That was all?”
Twilight lifted her chin a little.  “Why Mac, I’m sure I have no idea what you might be implying by that.”  Her voice was prim and proper though if he looked closely he was sure he could detect the slightest twitch of wings and tail.  “It was a perfectly civil conversation between two adult ponies.  Mourne accepted that he should never had placed his hooves on my person without asking in advance, and he certainly should never have attempted to instigate such an intimate act as a kiss with a mare he barely knows.”
At this point there were two options available to him, Mac decided.  He could let the matter rest, or he could press the issue to find out just what went on.  Twilight’s particular quirks and proclivities were hardly a secret around town and he was certain that their ‘talk’ was more like a lecture for the unsuspecting bat pony.  
In the end discretion won out over curiosity and he left it at a simple.  “Uh-huh.  Well, long as there ain’t no bad blood ‘tween you two.  Last thing he needs is t’be makin’ more enemies.”
Twilight stifled a smile behind her hoof.  “Don’t worry, Mac.  Accidents happen, and we all had a bit to drink that night.  Though as we’re talking about Mourne and the events that lead him to working on your farm, I do have a question if you wouldn’t mind?”
His ears perked as he shifted his weight on the firm bench, turning to fully face the lavender alicorn.  “Eeeyup?”
Twilight shuffled her hooves a bit nervously before speaking.  “I’d just like to know a bit more about Princess Luna...about what’s she really like now she’s been back for a while.  How is she settling in and adapting to life in modern Equestria?  She didn’t come back after the whole, well, Nightmare business until after I’d left for Ponyville so I haven’t spent anywhere near the kind of time in her company as I have with Celestia.  Other than Nightmare Night I don’t get the opportunity to talk to her unless it’s in some formal function and it’s hard to really chat then with everypony watching.”  She paused, her expression turning a little wistful.  “I sometimes hear stories about her from Celestia, about the things they get up to, the pranks they play on each other.  When we are together we’re more able to talk as equals but she’s still a very private pony and I...I’ve not been a Princess long enough to feel comfortable invading that privacy.”  
Mac pursed his lips, then nodded simply.  At the same time, a quiet little corner of his mind noted that she’d dropped the ‘Princess’ in front of Celestia’s name.  Good to see, she must be settling into her new role at last.  “Private’s a good a way as any t’sum her up, eeyup.  But there’s so much more to her than just that.”  He tapped a hoof in thought, turning to stare out the window as he mulled it over.  How to describe the Princess?  He was sure she didn’t want to hear about the warm feeling he got whenever he saw Luna standing on his porch, or how she took such pure, innocent joy in Granny’s simple, wholesome cooking.  He barely knew where to begin so instead he pushed all that aside and tried to keep it simple.
He could see her in his mind’s eye, see the way she tossed her mane back as she posed for him, hear her rich laughter, see the fury in her eyes at the thought that Mourne had tried to kill him, feel her tears of frustration soaking into his coat as he held her close.  How best to describe a pony like that?  “Well….she likely said it best herself on our first date.  Mercurial.  Ain’t a word ah’m much used t’using but it sums her up.  Luna’s the kinda pony could bawl ya out till ye’re standing there wishin’ the ground would open up and swallow ya, and the next she’ll be off pullin’ faces at one of the Solar Guard, tryin’ to get them t’crack a smile.”  He leaned in a little closer, motioning Twilight in as he whispered conspiratorially, “She’s got a bet goin’ with Celestia that she can get one of’em to laugh out loud in the middle of court.  So far it ain’t goin’ her way.”
Twilight giggled, then blushed, glancing quickly left and right to make sure no-one could see them gossiping like a pair of schoolfillies. “Celestia never told me about that.  Do you know what the stakes are?”
Mac shook his head.  “’Fraid not.  Mebbe Celestia can tell ya, Luna’s been real tight-lipped about it.  Anyway, as for the rest?  Luna’s been coping’ pretty well all in all, ah think.  We’ve been takin’ the time to get her back into music an’culture when ah go to visit her in Canterlot.  Works good for her, she can start t’be seen as a patron of the arts again, strikin’ out on her own with somethin’ Celestia ain’t much involved in.”
“Oh, that’s true,”  Twilight agreed, smiling widely.  “Celestia will sponsor events and lend her name to buildings and things but she simply doesn’t have the time to really get involved.  I’m guessing you mean that Princess Luna has more direct contact with the artists and musicians?”
Mac nodded, a wide smile on his muzzle as he remembered their last visit to a small jazz club in the back streets of Canterlot to see a particular trio of musicians perform.  He had no idea the Princess was a fan of jazz music, but apparently she appreciated the sometimes discordant, free-flowing pattern of it.  The looks on the trio’s faces as they found the Princess of the Night waiting patiently at the bar for them to turn up was something he’d treasure for a long time to come, and their expressions when she’d asked them to come to the Palace specifically to perform for her?  You would think the heavens themselves had just opened before them.  “Luna’s a much more…hooves-on kinda Princess,” he sums up.  “We thought this was a good way t’get folks used to seein’ her, to bring her a little closer to them and get them to see that she’s more than just the stories.”
“It’s funny,”  Twilight said as she sat back in her seat.  “You’re probably the only other pony I could talk to about this, about the Princesses.  You get to see them the same way I do.  In fact, I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you say in all the time I’ve been in Ponyville.  You’re surprisingly easy to talk to when you open up, Mac.”
He returned the smile, adding a hint of a shrug.  “When it comes t’being out in public, ah keep mahself to mahself.  Folks around Ponyville ain’t afraid to flap their gums every chance they get.  Ah’m content to just watch’an’listen.  As for whatcha said about the Princesses?  Well, Luna yeah,” Mac agreed.  “But Princess Celestia?  Ah ain’t had much t’do with her other than the occasional hello’n how ya doing when we’ve bumped into each other when ah’ve been up in Canterlot before.  So far she’s been real good about me datin’ her lil sister.  We ain’t had to have The Talk yet.  Ah’m guessin’ in the absence of any parents, it’ll be Celestia that does the honours there.”
Twilight blinked.  “The talk?”  she echoed, her confusion plain to see.
“Eeeyup.  The “what makes ya think y’all are good enough for my sister” talk.  Usually it’s the filly’s da’ would take care of that, make sure t’chase off any colts just lookin’ for a bit of a tumble in the hay with their daughters.   Ah know AJ’s already put the fear o’Nightmare Moon into a couple of colts that tried t’coax Applebloom into a little bit of ‘ah’ll show ya mine if y’all show me yours’ behind the barn.”
Twilight’s muzzle had grown increasingly scrunched up as he spoke, thought at that she paused, her head tilting to one side.  “But aren’t we more or less always on display, Mac?  I wouldn’t have thought there was that much more to see.”
Mac resisted the urge to smack himself in the face with a hoof.  Alicorn she might be, but apparently there were some serious gaps in her understanding of what could go on between a colt and a filly away from the watchful eyes of adults.  “There’s lookin’ and then there’s lookin’.” he explained. “And sometimes lookin’ leads to touchin’, which leads to all kinds of other things that youngsters shouldn’t be gettin’ up to.”
Twilight blinked, her ears pinning back.  “Wait.  Ponies DO that?”
He grinned and shrugged.  “It’s more common than ya’d think.  Kids get curious is all, but ‘Bloom’s far too young for that kinda thing so AJ and I keep a close eye on her.  She’s got her fair share of admirers, that girl, not that she seems aware of it with all the crusadin’ she gets up to with her friends."
“Huh,”  was all Twilight could find to say.  “Wait.  If that…then that means…” Her eyes suddenly widened in understanding, then narrowed in rage, her ears pinning back.  “So that’s what Flash Sentry meant!  ‘Check out his his sword’, my flank!  The next time I see him, I’m going to shove that stupid helmet of his where even Celestia herself couldn’t find it!”


*****


The ice between them now broken (and once Twilight had calmed down again), the two spent the remainder of the journey to Canterlot trading stories about their respective Princesses and by the time they parted company at Canterlot station, Mac was left with the distinct impression that Twilight was more than a little sweet on her mentor.  Well, it was none of his business and he was sure the poor girl would get enough of a grilling from AJ and the rest without him prying into her affairs.  Like his Momma always said, there was trouble enough around without going and borrowing more of it.
Making his way along the streets he kept his head down, hunching his shoulders as he walked to try and make himself look smaller as he moved through the crowd, trying not to draw too much attention to himself.  One thing he’d quickly learned was that there were frequently roving reporters on the streets and his stature made him far too easy to spot.  Okay, their relationship wasn’t hot news like it had been, but there were still plenty out there looking for some dirt or gossip or to try and boost their own profile by scoring an interview with the “royal coltfriend”.  Luna had offered to send a chariot or escort to collect him but he wouldn’t skulk about like they’d done something wrong.  He just didn’t much like folks badgering him about things that were none of their concern, or tryin’ to ply him with free things so he’d put in a good word at the Palace for them.  Most of the upper class ignored him, of course.  He passed them by and their noses shot up so fast and so high you’d think someone had attached their chins to an airship.  He might be dating one of the Princesses, but some prejudices died harder than others.
The rest of his trip to the palace was, thankfully, quiet and uneventful on this particular warm, sunny day.  The obligatory security check at the palace gates was completed without incident, though he swore that the magical scan to ensure he wasn't a Changeling Infiltrator always set his teeth on edge.  He could feel it crawling along his nerves as the unicorn cast the spell, the light enveloping him, sweeping over and permeating deep inside him till he was sure he could feel it brushing against his heart, making it tingle unpleasantly.  He wondered if everypony felt like that or if somehow his being more aware of himself and his surroundings made him even more aware of how invasive such a spell actually was.
He trotted quickly through the marble halls of the palace, exchanging nods and greetings with some of the staff and functionaries he'd got to know in his time with the Princess, dodging neatly around Celestia's aide, Kibitz, as he rushed down the hall, no doubt to quickly usher the alicorn off to yet another ever so important council meeting.
His first surprise of the day came even before he'd ascended the steps to Luna's rooms, a guard at the base stopping him and, instead, directing him to a private garden round at the back of the castle.  He did as he was told and a few moments later he was approaching the high, thick green hedge that surrounded the secluded spot when his ears perked.  He could hear shouts, cries from up ahead and what sounded a lot like the impact on hooves on armour and flesh.
He picked up his pace, already beginning to puzzle over just what might be going on.  It couldn’t be an assassin, could it?  Surely not here, in the heart of Canterlot.  The unicorns at the gate would make sure no infiltrator could get in but there was never any guarantee of complete security.  Pushing the wrought iron gate open with a hoof he carefully peeked inside, keeping his head low to avoid being spotted till he could take stock.  Rather than any attacker or assassin he instead found Princess Luna herself, surrounded by four earth ponies, most of whom were already sporting a variety of bruises and the occasional cut.  All four were breathing hard, their manes in disarray, weapons lying twisted and broken on the grass around them.
Luna, in contrast, looked as though she'd just stepped from the spa, her midnight blue coat immaculate, her mane as brilliant as ever, her head high and a look of pure mischief on her face.  She’d removed her ceremonial garb, her silver shoes sitting next to her peytral and crown in the grass.  She had, instead, wrapped her hooves thickly to help cushion her blows and ensure she didn’t draw blood as she struck.  "Oh come now,” she cooed, laughter bubbling in every word.  “Is this the best that my Sister's guard has to offer?  How can you hope to defend her against all the horrors of this world if you cannot lay even a single hoof on one unarmed opponent?"
The four ponies exchanged glances and a moment of unspoken communication passed between them before, as one, they lunged forward to attack.  Mac held his breath, barely daring to move, not even trying to speak, as Luna showed that her skills had not been diminished by her exile.
She didn't even need to use her magic, her horn remaining quiescent even as her wings spread wide and she launched herself backwards with one mighty flap.  She somersaulted in midair, her hooves lashing out.  One pony went sprawling face-down in the dirt, as her hoof smashed into his forehead, his companion barely able to dodge the second hoof, instead receiving a tail lashing across his face for his troubles.  He reeled back, blinded and cursing.  By the time Luna touched down, the other two ponies were upon her and if Mac hadn't been watching he would swear she had teleported.
The two lunged, but their grasping hooves found only empty air as Luna contorted herself, slithering between them like water between stones in a river, planting her forehooves firmly down and bucking out hard, sending them sprawling on their bellies in the dirt as well, their startled cries followed by pained groans as they lay there, exchanged another tired glance and both decided that they weren’t in the mood to get back up anymore.
The only pony left standing, a stocky green stallion with a military-regulation length mane, had recovered from the lash of her tail and was now warily circling the alicon, rolling his shoulders slowly as he sized her up.  "I read the stories about you, you know.  We all did.  We wanted to know you when you came back, to see what you were capable of if we had to put you down."
Luna grinned, the alicorn barely even breathing hard after taking down three of her opponents.  "And?  How does the reality compare to the myth?"
The stallion slowly shook his head, idly rubbing at an angry bruise that was spreading along his cheek.  "Princess, I don't think we'd have stood a chance if you’d come back looking for a real fight.  So far today you've taken down eleven of us without using your magic or even a weapon." Mac blinked, his ears pinning back in surprise.  Eleven?  Well, it seemed he'd arrived just in time to catch the end of this curious sparring session.  "If you were to really let loose I think only Princess Celestia would stand a chance against you."  He stood straight, slapping his hoof to his chest in salute before he dropped back down to a fighting stance again.  "But don't think that means I'm going to give up.  We are Equestria's Shield.  We do not surrender."
"Bravely said, Sergeant." She replied, approval in her eyes.
The stallion blinked, clearing his throat before he contradicted her.  "Pardon Ma'am, I'm only a corporal."
"And now you are a Sergeant,"  Luna replied, with a wave of her hoof.  "The Solar Guard needs more leaders with hearts as stout as your own and of the soldiers I have fought today you are the only one who has stood unafraid and even come close to landing a hoof on me.  Now, Sergeant. Let us finish this."  She looked over at Mac and smiled warmly,  "My guest has arrived and I fear he has no great desire to watch his marefriend brawling like a common soldier."
Mac snorted as he straightened up and stepped away from the gate, giving a respectful nod to Luna's opponent.  "Congratulations on the promotion, Steady.  Helluva way t'earn it, though."
"It's not so bad," Steady Shield replied with a grin.  "How often do you get the chance to try and beat up the boss?  Er, no offence, Ma'am."
"None taken," Luna purred.  "But do hurry up, Sergeant.  I have a great many kisses to bestow on my coltfriend and I am sure you do not want to be here for that."
"Uhm... No Ma'am."  He left it at that, took a deep breath and again charged forward, his head down low, his eyes narrowed as his hooves thundered along the soft grass.  Luna stood as still as a statue, calm, even distant, until he got close enough for her to strike.  He reared, forehooves lashing out, and that was when Luna moved.  Her legs folded beneath her as she dove forward along the grass, turning her head so that her horn scraped down along the poor stallion’s body, near grazing his groin as he shuddered and tried to jerk away.   She took full advantage of the shift of his weight, rolling and bringing one of her wings smashing down against his side with all the force an alicorn could muster.  It wasn’t as much as if she’d been in the air, but it was enough to send him sprawling along the grass.
Mac took a step forward, expecting the fight to be over, but to his surprise Steady wasn’t done.  He rolled as he took the hit and in a heartbeat he was back to his hooves, lunging in again before Luna could recover, the alicorn slow to stand as she had apparently also assumed the fight was over.  Hooves again lashed out and this time she wasn’t quick enough to dodge.  Steady’s hoof connected with her cheek and sent her staggering, head snapping round from the force of the blow.  He froze in shock, his eyes widening.  “I…I…Pr-Princess Luna, a-are you alright?”
Luna slowly turned back to face him, gingerly rubbing her aching cheek, a rueful smile on her lips.  “I am quite alright, Sergeant.  I would consider it a lesson learned on the consequences of overconfidence.  I did not expect you to recover from that blow and assumed, incorrectly, that you were too fatigued to press your attack.  T’was a fair blow, well struck.” She offered a hoof out in respect and Steady, after a moment of hesitation, bumped his against it, his smile almost radiant.  “You are dismissed, Sergeant.  Please gather the healers for your compatriots and ensure they are well taken care of.  You may all dine in the Palace this day, you have proven your worth and earned a reward.”
“Yes, Ma’am!”  Steady Shield barked, thumping his hoof to his chest in salute, wincing a little as he did.  He turned to help his companions up, making sure the other three stallions were at least mobile before he lead them out of the garden to have their bumps and bruises seen to, one of them leaning heavily against Steady’s side, his eyes unfocused, an impressive lump already visible on his forehead.  Mac stood aside to let them pass, giving Luna an amused look.  She looked so pleased with herself and yet so chagrined all at once, looking for all the world like a filly expecting a scolding.
“We cry your pardon, Mac,” she said at last as she trotted over to kiss him in greeting.  “We lost track of time.  You were not supposed to see that.”
“Uh-huh,” he drawled once his lips parted from hers, ending it with a gentle nuzzle along her unbruised cheek.  He stepped back, tilting his head round to look at the other side, the bruise already deepening there.  “Ah thought you alicorns were immortal.”
“Immortal, Mac,”  she murmured before losing herself in another kiss.  He returned it willingly, pressing himself close to her, feeling the heat that radiated from her, the subtle scent of exertion that clung to her skin, mingling with her natural scent.  Their lips parted and she nuzzled against his cheek, then up to his ear, nipping playfully at the tip before she went on.  “Not invincible.  We can most certainly be hurt.  We heal more quickly than other ponies, this is true, and a mortal blow will force us into a state akin to hibernation while we recover.  We have never felt the need to test what might happen were our bodies to be destroyed utterly, ” she added as casually as you might discuss the weather.  “If we were truly immortal and indestructible, why would we need the Guards to protect us?”
“Hmm.  Fair point.  Guess ah’d never really thought about it that way.  So this…sparrin’.  Ye do this a lot?” Mac asked, deciding that was definitely one of the conversations he was in no hurry to have.  There was little point dwelling on alicorn lifespans right now.  Gods willing they’d have plenty of time together yet.
“Twice a week at least.  We, I, have always been the more martially inclined.  Celestia fought beside me, once upon a time, when we tamed this land and bent it to our will, but since my return I have found she now prefers the diplomatic path, dealing with conflict with words instead of deeds.”
“Speaking of the Princess, what’s her feelings on you beating up her guards?”  Mac asked curiously.
Luna snorted, turning her head to stare up at her sister’s tower.  “Tia and I disagree on the level of training that is sufficient for our guards.  The Solar Guard are no longer an army, no longer truly soldiers.  They are glorified peacekeepers and tourist attractions, trained to look good, not for true warfare.   Today’s session only reinforced my belief that things must change.  Even as an alicorn, as skilled as I am, to take on so many opponents as I have, I should be showing more than a single bruise.  Not once did any of them save for Steady Shield come close to laying a hoof on me.  The pegasi fare no better.  The unicorns, at least, still have an adequate grasp of combat magic but their strength and focus have waned and their attentions have turned more to scholarly pursuits, even within the guard.”
“It sounds like ya think Equestria should still have a standing army.  Professional soldiers.”
“And would that be such a terrible thing?”  Luna asked as she donned her shoes and crown, her magic fixing her peytral in place around her neck, settling it against her breast. 
“I can’t say it’s something ah ever thought about,” he ventured carefully, not sure if he was treading on dangerous ground.  Luna’s relationship with his sister was complicated, this much he knew, their relationship strained and changed by a thousand years of separation.  In their dream time conversations, where only the truth could be spoken, Luna had admitted that she still felt eclipsed by her Sister, that in some ways it was worse than it had been since before her fall.  Now she not only had to forge her own path, she had to fight the legacy of her past, cast off the shackles of the Nightmare, of the fears that still lingered in the hearts and minds of more than one pony.
“I fear that Equestria is seen as soft in these times.  The Changeling invasion did little to change that view.”  Her eyes wandered to the open gate, watching the limping guards as they made their way back to the palace.  “Equestria is also seen as too forgiving for its own good following the incidents with Discord.  Reformed or not, there are those who would still see him destroyed or petrified once more and they consider our leaving him running free as proof that we lack spirit enough to make the difficult choices.  In truth, Mac, I sometimes think my Sister could do with hardening her heart a little.  I know she strives to see the best in our little ponies, but then it falls to me to ensure that her kindness is not abused.  I must look in the shadows for the hidden blade, see through the honeyed words to scent out the poison hidden within.”
Mac nosed up under her wing, pressing in against her side.  She leaned in against him without a word and he curved his neck over hers, hugging her head down against his chest. “But ye don’t need t’do that alone anymore.  Ye got me now.”
“A fact for which I am more grateful than you can know, Mac.”  She sighed as she nosed at his chest, another kiss pressed there before she let her eyes drift shut and for a moment she allowed herself to relax, to simply be a mare enjoying the company of her lover, nothing more and nothing less and it was enough, so much more than enough.
They stood together in silence, the leaves rustling around them, distant voices filtering through the heavy greenery, their breathing falling into unison, flanks rising and falling in steady rhythm. “So what ya got planned for us?”  Mac murmured at last.  “Ah’m assumin’ ah didn’t come out here just to see y’all beatin’ up some of the guards.”
“Nay.  In truth I had an…ulterior motive, but one which I felt I must discuss with you before we go any further.”  She stepped away, fidgeting a little as she looked off to one side, one foreleg rubbing nervously against the other.  “I told you that I am the one who must see our ponies for what they truly are, not the idealised version that my sister believes in.  Well, tonight I am taking the first steps to try and improve matters and…I will require your assistance.  You will be opening yourself up to slander, to barbed words, but I feel it necessary.”  She glanced over at him as he sat down, but he simply motioned for her to continue.  “Tonight there is to be a party at the palace.  Many of the noble houses will be sending representatives.  My sister and I are to attend, and I would have you at my side.”
Mac paused, then grunted sourly.  “Kinda rubbin’ their faces in it a bit, ain’t ya?  Ya know what the Canterlot press has been sayin’ about us.”
“And what you hear and see in the press is not even half of it, Mac,”  Luna admitted.  “My Sister has been forced to defend my actions and my judgement in open court. She has even had to covertly derail bills attempting to resurrect centuries old legislation stating that the Princess can only marry within the noble houses.”
“Ya must be jokin’.”  Mac stared at her, appalled as she nodded slowly.  “They’d stoop that low?”
“Like it or not, Mac.  What we have done, what we have together, is a slap in the face of many in Canterlot.  They cannot comprehend why I would choose to look outside of the pathetic, twisted stump they call their family trees.  We need fresh blood, Mac, here in Canterlot.  The nobles spend all their time bickering among one another, few of them giving a damn what happens outside the walls of this city.  Me and thee, Mac, we WILL rub their faces in it.”  Her wings flared wide as she went on, her mane roiling as her voice rose, growing more passionate with every word, her hooves stamping.  “We will jam it down their throats, we will hammer it into their thick skulls.  We will MAKE them understand that their parties and balls and preening and prancing are not all there is to life! But I cannot do this alone.  I need you, Mac.  Will you help me do this? Will you help to make things better for all our little ponies?”
He opened his mouth, then hesitated.  This wasn’t just about him, though.  Life on the farm had already been disrupted with all the press trampling over the fields to try and get interviews, his friends lives had been intruded on, rude questions had been asked…but if he did nothing, then none of that would ever change.  Any pony who dared to look above their station would be singled out as an object of curiosity, or a potential threat to the status quo.  What if it was Applebloom?  What if she’d set her sights on some noble or Prince, only to find her life dragged through the muck?  Well, when you looked at it that way…he’d already hitched his wagon to this train, might as well ride it to the end.
“Eeeyup.  Alright, Luna.  Ah’ll help.”  He paused.  “I ain’t wearin’ a damn shirt collar, though.”
> Chapter 5 - If You're Blue and You Don't Know Where to Go.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 5
If you’re blue and you don’t know where to go to.


11am
The knock at the bedroom door that roused him from slumber was firm yet deferential, just the way he liked it.  Stirring from beneath his silk sheets, Prince Blueblood the Tenth, fourth in line to the throne of Equestria began his day as he always had.  A sharp clop of his hooves together and the doors to his suite swung open and his entourage descended in a flurry of efficiency.  Within moments his mane was brushed to perfection, his teeth brushed till they gleamed, his hooves buffed till they shone, his coat groomed till there was not a hair out of place and his breakfast was waiting on a platter beside his bed.
He eyed the collection of paper and parchment for a moment.  Most of it he recognised as being the usual mundane nonsense of court life.  Invitations to parties he wouldn’t be caught dead at, requests for “a moment of his time” from commoners and wastrels, updates and, no doubt, entreaties for more money from the handful of charities he had been blackmailed into supporting by his Aunt...no, there was little of any interest there this morning.  Not that he would actually open it himself, heavens above no.  He had ponies for that.  He left them where they were, anything of note would be reported back to him after he’d dined.
He turned his attention to breakfast, noting again with some displeasure that the cooks were using, once again, the blend of tea that his Aunt favoured instead of the one he had personally requested.  Yet another show of disrespect for his position and him personally.  If he’d had his way, he would have them all dismissed from their posts if they couldn’t get such a simple task right.  He briefly debated calling the servants back in to replace the entire breakfast, but the smells were tickling at his nostrils and instead he decided he could tolerate the insult...this time.


11:47am
His somewhat inadequate breakfast finished and set aside, Blueblood sat behind his broad, opulent desk in the study adjoining the main room of his suite, relaxing back into the plush chair with the faintest of smiles as he allowed the soft material to mould itself to his spine.  A fine piece of furniture indeed.  Pegasi built, soft as any cloud in the sky, and all it had taken was some words in the right ears.  Really, that was all it ever took.
Pulling the bottom drawer open to reveal a selection of bottles he took a moment to study each in turn before selecting a particularly pleasant malt from Shady Hollow. poured himself a small glass of whiskey and waited patiently.  One minute later, there was a knock at his door.
“You’re late,” he snapped as the door swung open and a pale blue unicorn stallion walked in, sweeping his hat from his head and clutching it deferentially to his chest.  Now what was this one’s name again?  He went through aides as quickly as Auntie Celestia went through cakes some weeks.  This one was shaping up well enough.  Bright Spark?   Luminous Glow?  Something to do with light, he was sure.  Well, not that it really mattered one way or the other, it wasn’t like he was ever on first name terms with the staff.
“Begging your pardon, Highness,” he apologised as he dipped his head down low, muzzle near brushing the floor, his voice dripping with regret.  “An unavoidable delay.  Lord Ironfort waylaid me just outside the great hall in another attempt to beg an indulgence.”  Ah, there was his cutie mark.  It didn’t help.  A crossed lamp and quill, how very cryptic.  Perhaps he had a talent for illuminating things.  He’d never really bothered to find out what his specific special talent was, but he had to admit that he was quite adept at ferreting out all sorts of useful pieces of information around Court. 
Blueblood snorted, waving a hoof absently as he leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of the amber spirits as he turned his attention back to the here and now, musings over cutie marks could wait for another time.  “And?”
“He left disappointed.”  The stallion replied as he rose from the floor and trotted to the desk to sit across from the Prince, his back ramrod straight in the chair, poise as perfect as ever.
“As he should,” Blueblood growled.  “Crotchety old fool.  His family can barely trace their lineage back more than three generations and he thinks that gives him the right to speak to us as equals.”
“Indeed, sir.  Now, as per our usual arrangement I reviewed the assorted correspondence that arrived with your breakfast.  There were two letters from Princess Celestia, four from Lord Slate-”
Blueblood couldn’t quite resist a little smug smile at that.  Another doddering old fool, it had been such a simple matter to extend him a line of credit to allow him to continue supporting his harridan of a wife in the manner to which she’d become accustomed while his business collapsed around his ears.  Of course, Lord Slate would never know that his fall from power was guaranteed the moment his business interests intersected with his own.  Well, one less obstacle in his way now and frankly he was far more capable of managing the Manehattan docks than Slate’s family could ever be.
“You also have three invitations to functions this evening.  One is from Fancy Pants, I believe he is hosting a charity gala  here at the Palace to aid those ponies recently affected by a landslip in Northern Equestria.”
“Send him the usual polite excuse note,”  Blueblood replied, taking a sip from his glass.  “But make sure and donate to the fund as well, so he doesn’t take it as a personal slight.”
“As you say, Highness.  The next one is from…”
Blueblood tuned him out, turning his head to gaze out the window and over the rooftops of Canterlot.  It was all about the game, the intricate dance of politics and position that his family had been playing for generations.  Despite his best efforts, the Blueblood family were seen as little more than window dressing now, far beyond even the customary “heir and a spare” that most rulers demanded.  What need was there for a Prince when the rulers of the land were immortal?  He would die, as his father and grandfather did before him, as useless now as the day he was born.  
He’d been second in line for the throne until Cadance’s ascension.  Then third with the return of Luna and now that jumped up common brat Twilight Sparkle had moved him down another rung.  Oh, her parents were minor nobility, but House Sparkle hadn’t been relevant in generations, not until Celestia had stepped in to claim the brat for her personal student.  And then to allow her to ascend?  Years of practice were all that kept him from grinding his teeth till his jaw ached.  
“Highness, I know it’s not my place to go against your wishes, but I feel I should point out one thing I should have mentioned earlier.  Fancy Pants’ event tonight, it is believed that both of your Aunts will be in attendance as they are seeking to garner extra publicity for this charity.  If this is the case then you know that most of the other noble houses will send at least one representative in the hopes of catching their attention and furthering their own agendas.”
Blueblood grunted as he turned his attention back to the here and now.  “A valid point,”  he conceded.  “Of the other correspondence, which of them were invitations to events this evening?”
“Two others, Highness.  One from the Canterlot Philharmonic inviting you to attend a new presentation of “The Sun Will Ever Rise”.  I understand it’s making quite a stir in artistic circles as it now openly makes reference to Princess Luna after centuries of all mention of her being removed.”
“Irrelevant.  Send them the usual refusal letter.  The other?”
“The other was from Captain Stone Aegis, intriguingly enough.  A private request for an audience this evening.”
Blueblood’s hoof paused in its tapping, his mask of indifference replaced with a look of genuine surprise.  “Aegis?  Well now, that’s interesting.  We’ve had little input with Shining Armor’s replacement since his predecessor swanned off to the Crystal Empire with that pink irrelevance.  What do we know about him?”
The stallion shrugged.  “Career military.  He’s fifth generation royal guard.  He’s kept his nose remarkably clean in his journey up through the ranks, almost suspiciously so.  You know what soldiers are like, Highness, usually there are skeletons in their closets they’d rather keep hidden, gambling debts they keep from their superiors, fillies of dubious morals that are more than happy to lighten their saddlebags...but Aegis seems to have few vices of any note.  He’s made one or two changes to procedure and policy since taking charge to better suit his particular temperament but he seems content to maintain the status quo left by Captain Armor.  Quite why he would be seeking an audience with you is unclear at this time.”
“Mmm.”  His hoof resumed its tapping as he mulled it over.  There was little chance that Aegis had uncovered any of his particular enterprises or interests around Canterlot and he would be unlikely to ask for a private audience if he had.  He wasn’t aware of owing the Aegis family any specific favours that might be called in.  All in all it seemed he had little to lose from indulging the good Captain.  “This merits more than the usual refusal.  Make my apologies to him, and enquire when he will next be free to meet.  I will be at his disposal for the rest of the week.  Refuse all other engagements until we’ve confirmed the meeting with him.”
“Of course, Highness.  I take it, then, that you will be attending Fancy Pants event after all?”
“Indeed.  It would seem to be a perfect opportunity to renew some contacts, and remind other ponies that they shouldn’t overreach themselves when they think my back is turned.  You did well to bring this to my attention.”
“Thank you, High-”
“However that particular detail should have been brought up far earlier,”  Blueblood interrupted, “instead of as an afterthought.  Still, you haven’t been with me long, so I’ll overlook it this time.  You will, of course, make sure there’s a carriage waiting for me, and that I have a suitable female companion for the evening.  Something younger, this time.  Leggy.  I want to make sure most of the attention is on her while I’m conducting business.”
“Y-Yes, Highness,” he stammered with a quick nod of his head, his ears angled back.  “I’m sure we can find someone suitable for you.”  Blueblood allowed himself a hint of a smile before he flicked a hoof dismissively, settling back into his chair, turning it about to face the window in clear dismissal.  “You can go.”


1.30pm
Lunch with his Aunt.  The less said about that, the better.  
If he had to listen to one more lecture on his responsibilities, setting an example, living up to the family name…  What would she know about any of that?  Celestia’s ties with the Blueblood family might have extended back over twenty generations, but it had been even longer since she’d had any real involvement with the day to day activities of anypony bearing the Blueblood name.
He nodded and smiled in the right places, mouthed the customary platitudes that were expected of him while he chewed a mouthful of mostly-tasteless salad.  Celestia, it seemed, preferred her food with few of the usual spices and herbs he was accustomed to at his own table.  She barely even added any dressing, just a dash of some painfully generic vinaigrette from that damnable town, Ponyville.  Now if ever there was a place that defied convention and common sense, it was that town.  Little more than a speck on the map before the interloper, Twilight Sparkle, had moved there, now its ties to the crown only seemed to deepen by the day.
So lost was he in his musings, in fact, that for a moment, he’d thought he had misheard the words that had just left the alicorn’s mouth.  He quickly finished his mouthful of food, levitating a napkin to his mouth to brush an invisible speck of food away.  “I’m sorry, Auntie,” he began diffidently.  “What was that you said about Fancy Pants fundraiser?  I’m afraid I was quite distracted by this delicious salad your chef has prepared for us.”
Celestia beamed at that.  “I’ll be sure to pass your compliments along, nephew.  As for what I said, I commented that it was lovely to see Luna getting out and mingling with our little ponies on a more personal level since she began courting.  Even so, I was quite surprised when she said that she would not only be attending tonight, but she was bringing Big Mac along with her.  Quite a bold move, given some of the wild speculation in the press in Canterlot, but that’s my sister for you.  She would never dance around a problem when she could simply charge straight through it.”
He hid his surprise as best he could as his magic wrapped around his glass of water, lifting it to his lips for him to sip.  Luna would be at the party?  Not only that, her country bumpkin of a mudpony would be there as well?  A dozen different scenarios were quickly considered and then dismissed in the time it took him to lower the glass again.  There was opportunity here, but only if he stepped lightly and quickly.
“Indeed,” he finally muttered, aware that his Aunt was watching him, expecting a response.  “Bold indeed.”  He finished his drink and salad and rose smoothly, bowing to the alicorn as was customary.  “If you’ll excuse me, Aunty.  I have some appointments this afternoon that I simply can’t put off.  You know what it’s like around court.”
“Indeed I do, nephew.  Good day to you.”  Celestia paused, her mouth half-open, as if debating saying something more, but in the end she simply bowed her head slightly in dismissal and turned her attention to her own food.
He left quickly, thoughts whirling, barely paying any attention to where he was walking for the moment.  It didn’t matter, he had to think, had to plan, had to consider all the options, mull over all the angles, all the potential consequences.  So little time, so little.  Luna was a frustrating individual when it came to her social calendar, and it had only got worse since she’d started dating that...farmer.  She had no actual diary to speak of, not that any of his agents or contacts had been able to locate, and she made no long term plans that could be relied upon.
Celestia, on the other hand, was an open book.  Literally.  Her public schedule was published openly and frankly even her private schedule was common knowledge within the palace.  Every moment of her day was marked, tracked, traced and accounted for, even her leisure time.  It made her terribly easy to work around if one was patient and methodical.  She had become, in her own way, simply another cog in the grand machine of Canterlot politics.  Luna, on the other hoof, was still an entirely new element, one that had yet to find its niche.  The squeaky gear that had the potential to upset the entire machine.  Or perhaps one that had simply not yet been ground down into its proper place.
Blueblood smiled to himself.  And that made her vulnerable in a way that Celestia was not.  An alicorn she may be, but Luna’s position was far from secure.  She was regarded with fear and suspicion by not only the populace but by many of the nobles, and even many of the Solar Guard.  Her Night Guard were few in number and they were viewed with equal suspicion by the populace as a whole, their allegiances to the former Nightmare Moon more a hinderance than a benefit.
His attempts to garner contacts within the Night Guard had been unsuccessful so far, even attempting to exploit that fool Mourne’s actions and their loyalty to Princess Luna had gained his agents no traction in that tight-knit fraternity.  In time, perhaps, he might be able to convince one of them to assist him but that was in the far future.  Right now he had plans to make and contacts to reach out to.
He stopped a passing maid with an outstretched hoof.  “My personal servant, where is he?”
“Argent Glow?  I’m not sure, Highness.  I believe I saw him in the Central Lobby.”
“Find him and have him sent to my chambers immediately,”  he snapped.  His frown deepened as the maid stared wide-eyed at him.  “Well?  What are you still standing around here for? FIND HIM.”
The maid jumped, her ears pinning back as she bowed quickly and hurried off down the corridor.  Blueblood turned and strode back to his suite to wait, his mind abuzz with possibilities.

1:59pm
“My deepest apologies, Highness.  I was taking care of a meeting with the Merchants Guild in town.” Argent Glow gently closed the door to Blueblood’s suite behind him.  “I understand you needed to see me?”
“I needed to see you twenty minutes ago,”  Blueblood growled, turning away from the window.  “But this will need to do.  Cancel my previous request for female company for this evening.  Contact Lady Amber Shine and ask her if she would do me the honour of accompanying me to the fundraiser as my guest.”
Argent Glow paused a moment, reaching into his saddlebags with his magic and withdrawing his notebook.  He flicked through the pages and hummed to himself, a barely noticeable frown creasing his brow.  “Lady Amber is on the guestlist, but she had already sent her apologies due to other plans.  Not to contradict your wishes, Highness, but would another unattached mare not be a better choice?”
Blueblood grunted.  Well that was an irritating complication.  He paced back and forth for a moment, flicking his thick blonde mane over his shoulders.  There were others he could call on, but none that he was entirely comfortable with.  The choice had to be made carefully, the last thing he needed was to raise too many hackles this early on.  “No.  It needs to be her.  If she insists that she cannot cancel her other plans, then I will simply go stag.  Lady Amber would be a...useful asset in the game that’s unfolding before us.  She haggled bravely with me during my monthly poker game at her first appearance at the club, supplying me with some useful information before any of my usual contacts had heard even a whisper.  She bears watching, and perhaps bringing into the fold.”
Argent nodded silently in understanding and quickly made a note in his book.  Blueblood couldn’t help notice that his horn writing was as neat and orderly as the demeanour he projected.  Nothing ever seemed to fluster him which was a trait Blueblood found both valuable and occasionally irritating.  “I will impress the importance of this meeting on her, Highness, and ensure she understands what may be lost by refusing.  Should I also make the customary enquiries into her background and connections?”
“Mm.  Yes.  Reach out to our ponies in the Merchants Guild and the rest of the Royal Court.  I want to know where she gets her money from, which hooves she has in which pies before I bring her too far into my confidence.  Allegiances shift in the noble court all the time and our dear Lady Amber is, at the moment, something of an unknown quantity.”  Blueblood stopped pacing and turning back to the window, tapping a hoof restlessly on the sill.  “Contact Red Tape.  Tell him that his schedule is being moved up.  If he has contacts he can exploit then he is to reach out to them NOW.  If he is unwilling or unable to move then inform him that his services are no longer required.”
“Of course, Highness.  Might I ask, however, what the sudden importance of his task is?  Has something changed?”
“McIntosh Apple is to be informally presented to the nobility this evening,”  Blueblood growled, doing his best to keep from gritting his teeth too hard.  He’d give himself wrinkles if he kept that up.  No.  Stay calm, stay relaxed, stay in control.  It was all just a game and it would remain his game to play as long as he stayed patient.  He took a slow, deep breath, letting the stress wash out with the exhale.  “He will be attending Fancy Pants Gala as Luna’s escort.”
Argent nodded thoughtfully.  “Interesting.  Rather like waving an emerald in front of a Diamond Dog and not expecting him to bite down.  She must know what the repercussions of this will be.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not.  Luna comes across as something of a blunt instrument, Celestia’s attack dog when she doesn’t want to play nice.  How much of that is genuine remains to be seen.  Those two ruled this land for generations together, she can’t be entirely naive as to how the game of court is played, much as she would like us to believe it.  No, I have to believe that she’s playing her own game.”  Blueblood frowned as he walked back behind his desk, his magic wrapping around a decanter of whiskey, pouring himself a shot and lifting the glass to his mouth.  
He sipped, his expression distant as he turned back to Argent.  “I suspect that, in this instance, the simplest explanation is likely the most accurate.  Battle lines are being drawn.  Luna has been rattled by some of the more outspoken voices in the press and wishes to see what support she has within the nobility.  Fancy Pants is known to be sympathetic, even friendly, with some of the Ponyville rabble, so she assumes that she will have the tactical advantage at a benefit being hosted by an ally.”
“And will she, Highness?”
Blueblood’s muzzled wrinkled into a scowl before he conceded the point with a nod.  “She will, for the moment, but ONLY for the moment.  We are still in the opening moves of our game, after all, probing for weaknesses in our opponent’s defence.  McIntosh Apple is a vulnerability, but one that must be carefully exploited before the window of opportunity closes and he becomes more widely accepted within.  Some of my contemporaries would likely rush in at this point out of fear, showing their cards too soon.  Not I.  Tonight will be a fact finding expedition only.”  He downed the rest of the whiskey and thumped the glass down onto the desk before settling into his seat, tapping his hooves thoughtfully on the wood. “Neverthless, my directive to Red Tape stands.  We need to begin to exert pressure outside of noble circles, find where the weak links are.  As for this evening’s entertainment, who on our payroll will be attending?”
Argent again paused, casting his eyes up as he ran through the list of guests.  “Lord Slate and his current companion, Lady Hazel Summer and her husbands…”
Blueblood snorted in amusement.  “How many does she have now?”
“Six at last count, Highness.  All of them pegasi, as I understand it.”
Blueblood scoffed,  “No accounting for taste, I suppose.  Go on.”
“I believe it’s something to do with the wings, Highness,” Argent explained without missing a beat.  “Some ponies find them quite...erotic.  Also attending will be Dame Lotus, Baron Prancer and Dame Lime,” Argent finished, his attention returning to his lord.  “That is everypony that could be relied on.  There are others we have had dealings with, but their allegiances are open to question.  These five are either willing allies, or their allegiance has been bought and paid for.”
“Mmm.  Not as many as I would like, I’d prefer to tip the board a little more in my favour but we work with what we have been given.  It’s no great surprise Fancy Pants would avoid inviting to many nobles known to be affiliated with me.”  Blueblood nodded as he stood again.  “That’ll be all, Argent, unless you have anything new to bring to my attention?”
“No, Highness.  I will contact Lady Amber and Red Tape as you’ve instructed and reach out to our other contacts.  Do you wish me to also contact those ponies I mentioned who will be attending tonight?”
“No need.  They know enough to fall in line with me and follow my lead if it becomes necessary.”
“Highness.”  Argent bowed low and left the room, leaving Blueblood alone with his thoughts.  He paced to the window, gazing out over the spires and rooftops of Canterlot, a little smile on his lips.  “The opening moves are always the most fun,” he chuckled to himself.  “Celestia is painfully predictable in how she plays the game, but Luna?  Oh, tonight should be entertaining.”

> Chapter 6 - Let's Face The Music and Dance.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 6
Let’s face the music and dance.


“Ah said GIT!” 
Luna blinked as the door to the guest suite was suddenly flung open inches from her face and a blue-coated unicorn strutted out, his face a picture of disgust.  
“Why, I have never been spoken to like that in ten years of working at the Palace!”  he yelled, turning to glare over his shoulder.  “I know when my talents are not welcome!  Good day, Mr Apple.”  His horn glowed as his magic slammed the door shut behind him with a loud crash, the frame shuddering.  It was only when he’d taken a long, deep, exasperated breath that he looked up and found the Princess of the Night regarding him with a barely-veiled look of amusement.
“Are we to take it, Fine Charms, that McIntosh was unwilling to work with your suggestions for the event this evening?”  Luna enquired.
The stallion harrumphed loudly, tossing his head back before lifting his muzzle, his elegantly styled mane spilling down over his shoulders.  “Majesty, while I understand and respect that Mr Apple is the stallion you have chosen to share your affections with, he has the manners of a boor and the fashion sense of a blind pony.  He would not accept any of my suggestions to improve his appearance, nor his couture.  It was all I could do to get him to accept a mane wash and to have his hooves polished.”  He shuddered before going on, taking a moment to compose himself.  “He refuses to wear a collar or any sort of clothing at all!  To go to an event such as this...naked!  It’s nearly enough to turn my mane white!”  He finished up with a stamp of his hoof.  “I’m sorry, Majesty, but I can’t work under these conditions!  You will need to find someone else to attend to Mr Apple.”
“We apologise for our coltfriend if he has offended you, Fine Charms.  I am sure it was nothing personal.  McIntosh is not used to our ways in Canterlot and...I may have agreed that he would not need to wear any clothing to the party.  To dress him as they would wish, to change his appearance simply to satisfy the expectations of the nobles, is simply not who he is.  It was most remiss of us to not make this clear to you.”  She bowed her head low, her wings spreading.  “You have our regrets.”
Her only reply was an indignant sniff.  “The least he could do was agree to have that haystack he calls a mane styled to something from this century but no, apparently even this was beyond his capacity to bear!  I am sorry, Princess Luna, but if your paramour insists on wishing to look as if he has just rolled in from a frontier town then I simply cannot assist you.  Good day, Majesty!”
Luna sighed and waved her wing in dismissal, waiting until she was alone in the hallway before she let out a long, resigned sigh.  “That went about as expected…” she muttered to herself before lifting a hoof to knock on the door.  “Mac?  May we enter?”
There was a long pause before the door opened.  She lifted her hoof to knock a second time, only to pause as the door creaked open.  The sight that greeted her was enough to prompt her to look away for a moment, schooling her expression into something more neutral.  She cleared her throat, desperately trying to smother the giggles that were threatening to escape.  “You, uhm, you seem to be trying a new look out, I see.”
Mac sighed and opened the door all the way.  “Go on.  Get it out yer system.”  His cheeks had been touched up with blush, his mane partly slicked back with some sweet-scented pomade, the remains of a starched white collar replacing the halter that was usually draped around his neck, looking as if he’d tried to remove it with his teeth.  “Dunno what that fancy stallion was thinkin’ trying to get me all dolled up,” he muttered as he moved back to let her in. “Might as well put lipstick on one of the farm pigs.  This ain’t me, Luna.”
She nodded agreement as she stepped through the door, brushing her wing against his flank.  “Nay, it is not, and we cry your pardon for not making this more clear to Fine Charms.  He is very good at his job, but he is too used to adhering to the standards expected by the nobility.”  Her horn flashed, the glow of her magic washing over him and removing all traces of the abortive makeover, the collar disappearing, his mane returning to its usual semi-wild state, the blush removed from his cheeks.  “As we agreed, Mac.  You need be only who you are tonight.”
He grunted and glanced in a mirror, checking to make sure that there was nothing lingering, then stepped in closer to nuzzle along Luna’s neck.  She allowed herself a moment to relax, to lean into the touch as she curved her neck over his to press his head down to her breast, breathing slow as she savoured the simple pleasure of her coltfriend’s touch.  “I feel I must apologise again for this, Mac.  This was not what I had intended for our date to be.  I had hoped we would have more time before confronting the noble court, but the opportunity here is  too good to pass over.  Fancy Pants is a good stallion, one of the finest among the nobles.  Out of them all, he is the most likely to support our relationship.  After all, his own dalliances with Fleur De Lis were a matter of some scandal when they first became public knowledge.”
Mac lifted his head up, looking puzzled.  “How come?  Ah know the name, Rarity’s mentioned her a couple o’times but ah didn’t know there was any great secret there.”
“No secret, in fact they were very open about the fact that, to begin with, Fancy Pants paid for her company, and paid quite handsomely I believe.  Once upon a time Mistress Fleur was the highest paid courtesan in Canterlot.  It was even said that she knew the most intimate secrets of over half the noble stallions in Canterlot, and enough about the other half to bring down their Houses overnight.”  Luna smiled to herself.  “An exaggeration, of course, but the truth was that many young sons of nobles often graced her chambers and were less than discreet with their words in the throes of passion. But then came Fancy and everything changed.  I do not pretend to know what transpired between them, but as time passed she entertained fewer and fewer visitors until there was only he and she.”
“Are they, y’know, married?  Herding?”
“She is his companion.  His consort, his confidante.”  She replied, nudging his head back down to settle against her, nuzzling around his ears as she spoke.  “I believe the situation suits both of them for the moment.  Perhaps one day they will marry, but for now they are content to, how do the minotaurs say it?  Thumb their noses at convention, and at the disapproval of their peers.  I find their honesty and attitudes quite refreshing, in truth. I sometimes visit with them for coffee and they appraise me of the latest goings-on within the nobility.  They are, in truth, my secret weapon in my dealings with the noble houses.  Between the three of us there is little we cannot ferret out.”
Mac grunted at that, allowing her nuzzling to soothe the last of his frayed nerves.  “There’s still gonna be talk after this.  More gossip an’rumour.  Ah’magine there’s plenty of nobles gonna be at this party that look down their noses all the same.”
“True, but that is all they can do to Fancy, or to us.  They can look, they can even judge, but that is the extent of it.  I have grown used to their whining since my return, it seems they are always unhappy about something that we have done or not done.  Now, we must be on our way shortly and...Mac, what are you doing?”  
The head that had been pressed companionably against her was moving now, soft lips and flat teeth teething across her hide, heading for the base of one of her wings.  She lifted it without thinking as he nuzzled at the wingbase, a shiver running through her as he brushed his lips against that sensitive bundle of nerves at the base.  He turned his head to look at her, a teasing glint in his eyes. “We don’t need to go JUST yet, though….right?  Fashionably late and all that, ain’t that so?”
Luna shifted in place, her wings fluttering, tail threatening to lift at any moment as he turned his attention to her wing, nibbling into her feathers in a way that sent more of those pleasant, distracting shivers coursing down the length of her spine.  “Well...no,” she conceded, her voice already turning breathy.  “We have time yet before the party starts, and it would not be seemly to arrive too early.  And besides, a Princess is never late, nor early.  She arrives exactly when she means to and nopony would dare to say otherwise.”
“Mmm.  That’s what ah thought.”  He stepped away from her, then trotted towards the adjoining bedroom, pausing a moment to give an almost coquettish glance over his shoulder at her.  “Ah ain’t never seen a bed this big before.  Be a shame not to...take advantage.”  His tail flicked up as he spoke, the stallion chuckling throatily as he disappeared through the doorway.
Luna snorted, her tail lashing the air.  “Keep up thy teasing and the bed is not the only thing that will get ridden, McIntosh Apple,” she shot back.  “Few would dare to taunt the Princess of the Night in such a manner.  Prepare thyself!”  Her horn glowed once more, the suite’s door locking behind her as she trotted eagerly into the bedroom to join him, that door also closing and locking a moment later.


*****


Celestia’s sun had dipped below the horizon by the time they had completed their thorough test of the bed’s durability.  This had, in truth, taken some time.  As had the shower together afterwards.  The party was in full swing by the time Luna and Mac had descended from the guest tower to stand before the closed doors leading to the great hall. As they approached, he could make out the buzz of conversation and the faint strains of music from behind the heavy golden barrier.
Some of his earlier confidence had begun to wane as they approached the door, Mac shifting nervously beside Luna as they paced along the cavernous marble halls, their hooves echoing with every step.  She was the picture of calm, her head lifted, starry mane floating effortlessly behind her, her posture regal and composed.  Very much the swan to his duckling, gliding smoothly past guards and servants alike, exchanging brief nods and greetings with some of the staff.
“Mebbe this wasn’t the best idea,” he muttered, shifting his weight from one hoof to another, glancing at the stone faced palace guards who regarded him impassively from each side of the door. Hanging over the door was a large banner upon which was written “Benefit Function for the Rebuilding Effort in Vanhoover”.  Mac grunted to himself, he seemed to recall there being some sort of disaster there recently, but Vanhoover was a long, long way from Ponyville so he hadn’t paid much attention.  Now he was starting to regret it.
Luna extended a wing, sliding it reassuringly over and curving in to squeeze him to her flank for a moment.  “You will be fine, Mac.  I shall introduce you to Fancy and Fleur, you need not be on your own.  We will, as they say, have your back.  Trust me.”  She stood in front of him, brushing her lips to his, her smile hopeful, encouraging.
He took a deep breath.  He could do this.  He’d faced down pests and predators, thugs and bullies of all stripes.  What waited for him behind that door was no worse than any of the eldritch horrors that seemed to pop up in Ponyville every other week.  He stole another quick kiss from her and nodded.  “Let’s do this.”
Luna smiled warmly as she fell into step beside him again.  She glanced at the guards who snapped to attention at once and reached inwards in unison to pull the doors open.  A voice from within boomed out, “Announcing the arrival of Princess Luna Noctis, diarch of Equestria, Sovereign Ruler of the Night Sky, Lady of the Moon, Defender of the Realm and the Blade of Equestria.  Also announcing the arrival of the Royal Consort, McIntosh Apple of Ponyville.”
Luna had to fight not to roll her eyes as her titles were reeled off.  “Hm, only the most pertinent ones this evening.  I suppose if we listed the titles of every noble here then the party would never get started. We hope thou’rt not too intimidated...”  she turned to Mac only to find him with the most peculiar look on his face.  “Mac?  Art thou well?”
He couldn’t reply at first.  He had taken a breath just after the door opened and it was all he could do to keep from retching.  Gods, the smell!  It was damn near overwhelming. 
The hall was filled with ponies in a variety of finery, colours and styles clashing and fighting for space.  The air was similarly filled with a hundred different conversations, and a hundred different perfumes and colognes crashing together in a cloying miasma of scents.  Breathing through his mouth made no difference, he could almost taste it, every new breath all but coating his tongue with a dozen different perfumes  and it took all his concentration to keep his lunch where it belonged.  
Luna smiled sadly as she realised what was going on, and gave him a sympathetic look and nuzzle along the side of his neck. "I perhaps should have warned you about the latest crime against common sense and fashion in the court.  I sometimes suspect the only reason they can bear it is all that inbreeding has burned out their sense of smell," she confided. "At least the outdoor events aren't too overpowering."
Mac snorted, and then promptly regretted it, managing to stifle a sneeze against his fetlock. “What are they THINKIN’?”  He whispered as he leaned his head in closer to hers.  “Even the ponies at the spa don’t lay on this amount of scent.”
“They are thinking that my dear Sister once commented that a particular lady was wearing a scent that she found quite pleasing.” Luna replied, turning her head so that her mane hid their whispered conversation from view.  “Since then they have engaged in this olfactory warfare, each smothering him or herself in increasing amounts of whatever scent is considered particularly fashionable among their peers in the deluded belief that it will enable them to curry some favour with Tia.  The result is...well, painfully obvious until your senses deaden to it.  At least the current vogue is for more flowery scents.  You should consider yourself lucky you were not here a couple of months ago when musks were in vogue.  The air was so thick at some events you could near chew on it.”
Mac suppressed his shudder as Luna drew away, “How can ya stand it?”
“Like many of the less pleasant things in life, my dear Mac.  Practice.”  She gave him a little nudge with a wing to urge him away from the door and into the crowd.  She exchanged pleasant greetings with a few of the nobles, the crowd parting before them like a wave, closing in behind and blocking the path to the door.  Luna’s attention was ever forward but as Mac shot a glance behind them he was greeted with a sea of faces, not all of them happy, some speculative, some amused, others downright hostile.  With a quick look around he judged there to be near a hundred ponies gathered in the hall, some dancing, most standing in small groups talking together.  Their arrival had been enough to briefly stall the conversation but as they moved into the crowd the hubbub resumed.  
As the crowd shifted he spotted Celestia’s multi-coloured mane over near one of the tables of food.  There was a string quartet set up in one corner, though Mac couldn’t have told you what they were playing, the music all but lost in the din of so many voices.  Not to say anyone was shouting, no, but when you had so many ponies in once place every conversation blended into the next till there was nothing but a wall of sound smothering each individual voice.
“Well, about what we expected,” he muttered under his breath.  Few of the nobles bothered to greet him directly, or even acknowledge that he was standing next to the Princess, their attention and flattery all reserved for Luna.
“Ah!  Princess Luna.  A pleasure, truly, we’re SO thrilled you could come to join us tonight.”  A warm, cultured voice rose above the din and Mac found himself standing before a white coated stallion with a short, neatly coiffured blue mane.  He was dressed in a black tuxedo, a monocle set over one eye.  Flanking him was a slender mare with a long pink mane, a mischievous grin on her face as she nudged the stallion with a hoof.  “I told you so.  You should know better than to bet against me.  Now pay up.”
The stallion sighed, a touch melodramatically.  “Don’t be crass, darling.  You know I don’t carry bits on me at events.  We’ll settle up afterwards if that’s alright.”  He cleared his throat and bowed politely to Luna.  “A pleasure to see you, Princess.  Thank you for coming to our little gathering.  You have my thanks, and the thanks of all those we intend to help.”
“‘Tis our pleasure, Fancy.  Your invite was, as ever, most welcome.” She stepped back and gestured with a wing to Mac.  “May I introduce my coltfriend, Big Mac of Ponyville?”
Mac cleared his throat, stepping forward to offer his hoof to Fancy.  To his surprise, rather than trying to shake it, Fancy instead bumped hooves with him with a little grin that could almost be described as roguish.  
“You are most welcome as well, Mr Apple,” said Fancy.  “I must apologise for Fleur’s comments, but we had a little wager over whether or not you would have submitted to the expectations of our noble brethren.  I, as you can no doubt surmise, bet against you and lost.  I’m normally a better judge of character than this, but ah well.  We can’t all be right all the time, what?”
Mac looked at Fleur, then at Fancy.  He didn’t say a word, simply lifted a hoof towards Fleur for her to bump.  The tall, graceful mare allowed a hint of a smile to ghost over her lips before she lifted her immaculately manicured hood and bumped it firmly against his. “In my former line of work, on learned to be a good judge of character,” she replied. “Sometimes you simply got a feeling about a stallion that suggested it would not be in your best interests to do business with them, for example.  I was almost always right.”  She glanced at Fancy and winked.  “YOU I marked out as trouble the moment you knocked on my door, but I let you in anyway.  Damn you and your...moustache.”
Fancy just looked pleased.  “Never underestimate the impact of some finely sculptured facial hair, my flower.  This fine moustache of mine has given me the edge in more than one negotiation.”  The eye hidden behind the monocle glittered with amusement. “Now, Mac, may I call you Mac?”  He waited for the nod before continuing, “Luna has asked if I could take you under my metaphorical wing this evening, introduce you to the right folks within my circle of contacts, including a couple of members of the press I find to be quite sympathetic when it comes to such matters as your relationship here.  If you don’t mind, I’d like to start off introducing you to them, would that be alright?”  Mac nodded again and Fancy smiled broadly.  “Splendid, old chap, splendid.  Now, come on with me, I’ll fetch you a drink and we can get started.”
Luna nodded approvingly.  “Thank you again for this, Fancy.  We are-”
“Nonsense, Majesty, think nothing of it,” Fancy tutted, raising a hoof and shaking his head. “It’s my pleasure to assist Mr Macintosh in surviving the shark infested waters of the noble court.  Though of course if the royal treasury could be convinced to spare a few coins in donation to our wonderfully splendid cause…”
Luna snorted and waved a wing.  “You know we will be more than happy to donate to the cause, Fancy.  Not that the royal treasury has been blind to the incident in Vanhoover.  We have already sent many thousands of bits in relief aid, building materials and skilled ponies to help with the relief effort.”
While the two talked, Mac leaned in a little closer to Fleur and murmured under his breath, “Ah’m a mite outta touch, Miss Fleur.  What happened exactly?”
“Ah.  A fair question, Mac.  There was an eruption, a volcano, beneath the surface of Luna Bay.  Vanhoover was hit very badly by huge waves from the sea, many ponies died and many buildings and businesses were destroyed.”  She paused, shaking her head slowly.  “They had some advance warning so they were able to partially evacuate, and the royal guard detachment was able to set up some defences...but it simply wasn’t enough.  Her majesty is correct that they’ve already sent a great deal of aid, but there are those of us within the noble court who wish to do our part as well.”
Mac nodded, “Thanks, Miss Fleur.  Luna forgot t’mention exactly what this was all in aid of before she pressganged me into it.”
Fleur grinned suddenly, turning a moment to watch Fancy and Luna, who were deep in conversation about exactly what constituted a “few coins” to the treasury.  The figures being bandied about were enough to make Mac’s head spin at the mere thought of so much money.  “Ah, it would seem that your guide for the afternoon has been detained.  What a surprise,” she deadpanned.  “Well then, Mac, it would seem that you will be with me.  I will lead you through this sea of sharks and out the other side with no more than a nibble or two on your hooves, I promise.”  She smiled warmly at him.  “Let’s begin.”