> The Snuggle Conspiracy
>  by CategoricalGrant
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> The Snuggle Identity (DJ-PON3)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sit on the couch in your main room, lazily watching television.  You glance at the clock; 2:30 in the morning. She usually shows up around this time, you remind yourself. It's not like it's a huge problem,  you're not that tired anyway.
Your hooves up on the table between cartons of Chinese takeout, you engross yourself completely in the unremarkable weather forecast for the next several days. When you hear the doorbell ring, you groan and shuffle to the door. You open it, revealing a distressed-looking white mare with an electric blue mane. Her fur was matted with sweat and her muzzle wore a deep frown.
“Rough night, huh?”, you ask.
“You don't know the half of it,” responded the mare.
“What's got the magnificent DJ-PON3 down? A stallion being a creep? I can beat him up if you want.”
“No...I really don't wanna talk about it. I'm just gonna go to bed immediately.'
You think on this briefly before deciding to let it go. She just needed comforting tonight.
She looks back toward you after heading toward your bedroom. “You coming?”
You smile and shake your head, quickly dismissing the thought of how this must look to someone who didn't know about the arrangement.
You enter your room, only to find Vinyl Scratch lying face down on top of your sheets, absolutely exhausted. You climb into bed next to her, and you feel her immediately shoot her hooves around your torso and nuzzle into the nook between your neck and front leg. You wrap a hoof around her and smile contently, until you feel Vinyl nuzzling you and soft sobs emanating from her. You  frown and nuzzle the side of her head. “It's alright, I got you.”
She tightens her grip on you substantially. She eventually stops crying and you hear hear breathing regulate as she falls asleep. You do as well, a few minutes later.


“Yo! Amazing performance!” You yell over the music to the mare sitting next to you near the bar. She turns to you and pulls the sunglasses up over her eyes, smiling at you. 
“Yo, thanks! It's the first compliment I've gotten all night!”
“Really? What gives, that was some epic house you played!”
“Yeah bro, I saw you going crazy from up in the DJ booth!” She gave a hearty laugh, which you returned. “Thanks though, it means a lot. No one ever tells me that my music is any good.”
“Phh, you crazy? It's amazing!” you cry in surprise. 
“Aww, thanks random guy!” She throws her hooves around you in a hug, which you return. “Hey, you're a good hugger!”
“Phh, that's nothing, you should see me snuggle,” you shoot back with a joking smirk. She laughs again, that hearty laugh that's a sign of a genuine mare. “Sure pal, you've got a deal. But first,” she looks at your tail, which is swishing to the music, “we've gotta go dance!”
As you dance with her, you think that she couldn't possibly have been serious. But indeed she was. It finally became real as you lay on your bed with her on your chest. An awkward silence ensued.
“So, I never got your name,” she states casually, as if there were absolutely nothing awkard about the scenario.
And so you told her your name. And you both began talking. Turns out, the club life was hard; stallions trying to make a move, violence and intrigue, and a lot of work.
“...And so, I don't know, I've always liked cuddling bro. It helps me rest. And you're good at it. So, you wanna do this like, often?”
You were taken aback by her offer. But you could do nothing but accept as she nuzzled your neck and purred.
And so it was, that she came over after her shows Friday night.


“Yo, bro, get up man.”
“....”
“Hey! You sack of...uh...snoring pony.”
“urbggg...”
Suddenly, your companion raspberries your neck, startling you awake. “Ah! Oh...it's just you.”
Vinyl lets out a chuckle and looks up at you with a smile. “Good morning, bright eyes.”
“Glad to see you're feeling like your old self again. You were really out of...Ugh, what time is it?”
“Phhh, I don't know, like 7:30 or something.”
“Are you kidding? You woke me up now!?”
Vinyl looks offended. “My good sir, I was attempting to wake you up so we could snuggle more.”
You deadpan at her, “We can do that asleep.”
“Not as well, my big teddy bear!”
You glare at the pony who has a mischievous grin on her face. You know that she's waiting for you to respond to her jab, but she didn't count on this one thing; you are completely apathetic toward your environment at this stage in the sleep cycle. “Goodnight,” you mumble, laying back down on your pillow. 
You feel her lay down on top of you and nuzzle your face lightly. You grunt.
“Fine, I'll just take my cuddles from you then!” You hear her cry, much louder than necessary. She violently slips her hooves under your back and rubs the side of her face against yours. You groan again. 
“Scratch.”
“Yes?”, she replies expectantly, nuzzling your ear at this point.
“Ugh. Fine,” you relent. Vinyl clops her hooves together in jubilation as you both sit up and snuggle. You enjoy the warmth, and only Vinyl's nuzzling keeps you awake.


Another hour passes; Vinyl Scratch is out the door and back to her apartment, and (unable to sleep again after that rude interlude), you decide to head out to Sugarcube Corner for breakfast. Your doctor said to avoid doughnuts, but, I mean, the test results only said PRE-diabetes.
You walk through the door and are surprised to see the store completely empty. You shrug and turn to walk out until you hear a sproinging sound behind you. You turn to see Pinkie Pie, Jubilantly jumping up and down in place. She says nothing, her eyes closed and a silly smile across her face.
“...Yo, Pinks. Ya'aight?” 
“Good Morning! Only 131 days until your Birthday!”
You roll your eyes. “Thanks. Where is everypony?”
“Oh, they're on strike! The Bakery Owners of Equestria are refusing to buy any more flour until delivery times decrease. Mr. Cake says that the entire commodities market will be brought to a standstill!” She snorts and laughs, “I have no idea what that means. Anyway, we're closed.”
“Oh, alright. See you later, then.” You begin to walk out again.
“WAIT!” she cries. You groan and turn around again. “I need information.”
You let out an audible sigh of exasperation. With Pinkie Pie, such a discussion was bound to turn into some sort of multi-day hostage negotiation. “Why did Vinyl Scratch come out of your house this morning?”
Your entire body heated as you went into fight-or-flight mode. “N-nothing.”
Pinkie's eyes narrowed as she moved toward you. “Not talking, eh? Well then I'll just tell all of Ponyville you two are dating!”
You ruminate on this outcome for a moment, before concluding that no one would buy the story, especially coming from the mouth of Pinkie Pie. “I'm calling your bluff.”
“Okay, then I guess I'll just throw out my last half dozen glazed raspberry filled yeast super doughnuts!”
You spill the beans.
“Cuddling? That sounds super fun! Let me cuddle with you!”
Again, you groan and wonder how your life got to this point.
“Pinkie...”
“Please? I even won't tell all of Ponyville what you did at the Autumn festival and post the picture outside the town hall!”
You decided that if you ever needed a pony to take some hostages, Pinkie would fit the bill.
> You Only Snuggle Twice (Pinkie Pie/Rainbow Dash)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

So you're sitting there, completely aghast that you've been blackmailed by Pinkie Pie into snuggling her on her couch upstairs. The thing is, Pinkie Pie isn't even that good of a snuggler. In fact, she smells so sweetly of bubble gum that it's starting to make you sick. It wouldn't be that bad, except that she's crushing your ribs so hard that you can't breathe. And talking about her morning.
You can only manage to lightly scratch behind one of her ears with the little oxygen available to your lungs. She unfortunately takes this as a sign you're enjoying it and hugs you even harder. “And then gummy had to brush his teeth too, but when he tried to do it he remembered he doesn't have any teeth! And then we took a bath, and then we went downstairs and started to cook a double-strawberry-triple-frosting extraordinaire, and then Mr. Cake told us the bakers were on strike, and then you walked in! And now we're snuggling!” She lets out a little sigh of exasperation as she squeezes you and you let out a small yelp of pain as a few minor arterioles break. “Okay, we're done! You pass!” She says, letting you go.
You take a deep breath, which is then followed by a small coughing fit. Pinkie Pie smiled at you  expectantly. “Wh...What?”, you manage to sputter out. 
“Well,” Pinkie Pie begins, tapping a hoof to her muzzle in thought, “this was a test. A friend of mine really needs help, and I was hoping that you could help her. So I tested you, and it turns out that you can!”
“What? Who needs help that can be tested like that? Do they need help developing bruise resistance?”
“Tell me,” Pinkie Pie grins at you, “do you like naps?”


You absolutely did not expect, of all ponies, Rainbow Dash to be standing in front of you. She looked furious, and you were very glad that Pinkie Pie was bouncing next to you two to mediate.
“How is HE supposed to help me, Pinks!?” Rainbow Dash spits. You breathe a momentary sigh of relief, now knowing that her ire is not directed toward you. Not directly, at least.
“Trust me, he can help you sleep!” Pinkie Pie beams back, ignorant of her friend's attitude.
Rainbow Dash looks at you expectantly. You decide to gather information before proceeding; this was clearly dangerous territory. “So, uh, what's the problem exactly?”
“Well, I nap. Like, everyday. Usually for four or five hours.”
You nod in understanding; your sleep schedule is similar.
“And I've noticed that for the past few days, no matter how comfy the cloud I choose, I can't sleep! I've started to suck pretty hard at the weather patrol, because, well, I'm tired.”
“You could always go to bed earlier.”
“Well that doesn't work because I go to bed late after writing Wonderbolts fan-... after a strict exercise regimen to tone my core.”
You wrack your brain attempting to find a way out of your situation without doing what Pinkie Pie wants you to do; and her face inches from your own does not help your thought process.
“Have you tried...taking diphenhydramine?” You ask.
Rainbow Dash cocks an eyebrow and is likely to call you an egghead before Pinkie Pie interjects, “What he means is, He's going to snuggle you and it's going to help you sleep!”
You brace your face muscles for an anticipated supersonic uppercut, but none came. 
“Oh no Pinkie! No way! I might as well just turn in my daredevil license!”
Pinkie stops hopping and her demeanor darkens considerably. “That's okay. If you want to keep depriving yourself of sleep and LITERALLY raining on my parties, then I guess I can just tell everypony about your website!” She starts smiling and hopping again.
Rainbow Dash's jaw goes completely slack. You decide that Pinkie Pie would do an excellent job as an Applewood villain who is always one step ahead of the Equestrian special forces. You also wonder what exactly Rainbow Dash could put on a website that would ruin her life, although you speculate it involves the Wonderbolts in some fashion.
“Okay bye!” Pinkie zooms away, leaving a confused you and a very uncomfortable Rainbow Dash.


On the walk back to your place, you notice that Rainbow Dash doesn't seem comfortable or happy at all, her wings twitching every once in awhile, as if she can't decide whether to float along next to you or continue walking.
Your compassion eventually gets the best of you. “Hey Rainbow Dash, you doing okay?”
When she responds, her voice is devoid of all of the confident swagger it usually carries. You even detect a hint of fear as she responds, “I really don't think this is a good idea...”
You stop abruptly. “What's up?”
“Well,” she begins, her voice cracking and faltering as she explains herself hesitantly, “I've never snuggled with anypony before, and I don't know how, and I-I'll probably hate it...”
“Hey,” you start, getting her to look you in the eyes, “snuggling is all bout comfort. It's emotional and not just physical; both parties should be comfortable. We don't have to do this at all.”
“B-But Pinkie Pie-”
“Don't worry about it. I have determined, conclusively, that that chick is nuts. If you don't want to do this, come into my house for lunch, then go home. I'll just tell Pinkie that it didn't work out.”
“Really?...But, why do we have to-”
You cut her off, moving in very close to whisper in her ear, “because she's WATCHING.”
She turns to follow your gaze. The top of a pink muzzle can be seen protruding from a nearby trashcan, next to a bench, occupied with ponies quite disturbed by the scene before them.


“A-And then, I puked everywhere! The doctors had no idea what was happening!”
Rainbow Dash was on the ground literally crying with laughter at your story. Lunch had been a very pleasant experience.
“BWAHAHAHA!” She wipes a tear away, “I'll make sure to never eat Ch-Chineighse food if I go to San Franciscolt!”
“Or better yet,” you advise, “don't go at all. It's the worst city in Equ- well, I actually take that back. Baltimare. Never has there been a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.”
Lunch had been quite a pleasant affair, and Rainbow Dash looked at you over the plates, suddenly serious. “Hey, uh, I was thinking...maybe we could try the cuddling after all. I mean...will it really help me sleep?”
You're taken aback by her sudden change in heart. “Well, it should. Does for me anyway. And I'm Pinkie Pie-certified...I guess.” You rub your midsection. 
“I still don't know how though...” she frets.
“I can teach you, it's real simple.”
You take her to the couch and gesture for her to sit. You sit right next to her so that your withers and flanks touch. You notice she's a fair deal smaller than you. “Comfortable thus far?”
She nods. You then slip a hoof behind her. She tenses for a moment before relaxing again. “Alright?” She nods again.
After a few minutes, you pick her up gently and place her on your lap, perpendicular. She yelps and tightens her hold, but again relaxes. “Now put your head on my neck.” She hesitantly complies. You then nuzzle her mane, which smells like fresh, open sky. “Feeling comfortable?”
“Actually...yeah, I am. Do I fall asleep like this?”
“You can, but laying down is more comfortable.”
Rainbow Dash's face lights up. “Hold on!” She darts out the door and returns a few seconds later with an entire cloud. “Where's your bed?” She asks.
You point down the hall and she darts off. You decide to follow and find that the cloud has been placed over your bed. “Let's nap,” she yawns.
You smile. She still looks a little bit uncomfortable, so you smile and give her one last piece of advice. “None of this needs to be awkward. It doesn't leave the room, and it's totally just a chill thing. If you like something, just ask and I can do it, too.”
You move in for an hug. She clearly wasn't expecting it, but returns it after a second or so. You lay down and she does also.
There is an awkward pause in activity. “So, uh, how's this work laying down?” she asks.
“Well, you can lay on top. Or we can spoon. Turn on your side.” She obliges.
You wrap your hooves around her. She again tenses, then relaxes. You pull her close to you, feeling her warmth on the background of the cool, smooth cloud, which itself is doing wonders for your bruised torso. She's not as soft as Vinyl, or as fluffy and painful as Pinkie Pie, but her small, toned body has a comfortable feel of its own.
“Hey, uh, can you massage my wings?”
“Sure,” you reply, moving on top and unfurling her wings. You begin to rub them gently and she smiles in ecstasy. After a few minutes you return to your previous position. “Thanks,” she says. You're pleased that the air in the room has grown more casual, and are actually enjoying what you anticipated to be an incredibly awkward experience. You let out a breath over the back of her neck and she lets out a little moan of comfort.
“Hey, thanks,” she says quietly.
“No Problem.”


You wake up when you feel the warm form next to you stir. Memories begin to return to you.
“Hey, Dashie...”
She groans. “Never call me that.”
You look out the window and find only the darkness of night. You turn your head and find that the clock reads 12:30 am.
“We've been asleep for 12 hours,” you muse.
Rainbow Dash sighs. “I'm going back to bed.”
“Good idea.” You pull her close again and rub her tummy softly. She purrs and you both drift off to sleep again.
	
> From Cloudsdale With Love (Fleetfoot)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	So if the last few days had been weird, this was too weird; but also epic. Never let it be said that being awkwardly blackmailed into cuddling ponies you barely knew didn’t pay off.
“I’ve heard of your skills from Rainbow Dash. Listen, I need your help.”
This was unbelievable. You let your enthusiasm manifest itself as cockiness. “So, the great Spitfire, captain of the Wonderbolts, needs some cuddling? Can’t say I blame you.” You place one hoof on her desk and cock an eyebrow.
Spitfire’s expression is flat and weary, but her voice is tinged just slightly with anger…and was it digust, as well? “It’s not me, pal. Cool your jets.”
Your ears fall to the sides of your head as you return to a very submissive position. “Oh. Sorry.”
“I have a teammate who is struggling. Her house got hit by a freak lightning bolt and burned down.” Spitfire snorted, “Leave it to the Cloudsdale government to build flammable cloud houses.”
“Okay,” you reply, “That’s bad and all, but why will cuddling help her? I can’t bring her stuff back.”
Spitfire rolled her eyes. “She’s been crashing in one of the barracks here at the academy- no place for an officer, mind you, but it’s not safe for high-ranking military personnel to be lounging around hotels downtown with all the unrest in the city. Anyway, she’s been having trouble sleeping, stalking around the academy late at night acting peculiar, and asking Soarin’ to hug her and stroke her mane while she cries.”
You’re a little shocked. “That sounds…extreme.”
Spitfire snorts in a sarcastic scoff. “Yeah, well, you haven’t met Fleetfoot.”

So there you stood in the entry to an empty, prefabricated, sheet-metal barracks with the Captain of the Wonderbolts at your side and a distraught, sky blue Pegasus in front of you.
This poor mare looks like she hasn’t slept in a week. Her shock of electric white hair is frayed and feathers stick from her wings at concerning angles.
Spitfire is the first to speak. “Fleetfoot, this is-“
“I told you I don’t need psychiatric help Spits!” Fleetfoot cries, her anguish palpable as her eyes start to water.
“Look, Fleetfoot, it’s not about that. This is about you getting back to your old self; confident, sarcastic, and not prone to stealing Soarin’s uniform and rolling in it because it smells like him. That last thing especially. He,” Spitfire motions to you, “is here to help you with that. You want someone to hug you and stroke your mane? This guy.”
“Uh, Hi.” You say. You make a complete 180 when you hear the door behind you slam shut, leaving you alone with this possibly damaged mare in a Griffon-Cold-War era barracks lit by a single dangling light bulb.
You feel her brush up against your chest and move her head up and down gently. “Oh, you’ll do fine,” she purrs.
You wish the story continued as creepy as that, but in the end it turned out she just needed somepony to talk to. As you lay on one of the beds inside, she shed the occasional tear on you as she told her what her home meant to her; the memories and objects inside, her (unfortunately deceased) pet strawberry plant, and her soft comfy cloud bed. Turns out, she wasn’t even stalking Soarin’; he apparently just smelled like her house. You told her you were glad she didn’t do anything like bake her hair into a pie for him, and she managed a laugh.
Feeling her snuggle into you and extend her wings to wrap around you too, you feel her go to sleep. You can’t sleep yourself, seeing as it’s still like 11am, but you’re always pleased to snuggle.
After a few hours, she stirs. “Mmmmhmmm…”
“Good afternoon,” you tell her. She starts moving again.
“You’re really soft,” she replies with her cute lisp. “Strong, too.”
You roll your eyes and run a hoof through her mane so she wakes up a little more. “Hey, I’ve got to get going, but listen, if you ever need to talk again, you can just tell Spitfire, or make the flight to Ponyville and I’ll be happy to help you out.”
She looks you in the eyes with a sincere gratitude. “Thank you so much, I feel the best I’ve felt in days. You’re my hero.”
You tense as she brings her muzzle toward yours and nuzzles it. You return the gesture, which itself is caught somewhere between the realms of platonics and romance.


You bust into Spitfire’s office with confidence. “Fixed her.”
Spitfire looks at you, as does Soarin’, who is in complete racing attire. Soarin is the first to speak. “You fixed one of Fleetfoot’s episodes of crazy in…3 hours!?”
Spitfire lowers her sunglasses and looks at the clock.  “That’s an academy record. Nice job, hotshot.”
You beam. 
“You really helped out bro, you have no idea. Thanks a bunch,” says Soarin’, who then stares off into the distance and shivers, as if reliving an unpleasant memory.
“Here,” says Spitfire, tossing you a pair of tickets to the next Wonderbolt’s Derby in Canterlot. “You’ve been a big help, and we won’t forget it.”
“Aw, cool.” You say, grabbing the tickets. You’re not a huge Wonderbolts fan, although you follow them from afar. Plus, you figure, these ought to be great seats. “Are these like, VIP or skybox or something?”
Spitfire spits out a chuckle. “They’re general admission. What, do you think you saved the base from annihilation or something?”
“He probably did, in the long run,” Soarin’ cuts in.

> For Your Ears Only (Princess Celestia- Noncuddling)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

THAT EVENING
“Princess Celestia!” A guard cries, busting out onto the pristine white balcony with a grand view of the late evening vista. “I’m so sorry to interrupt you, your highness, but the civil disturbances in Cloudsdale and Baltimare have turned violent, and it is now confirmed that they are consequences of the trade war between farmers and the baker’s guild. How should we proceed?”
Celestia keeps her back turned toward the stallion and drank in the view of the valley below, under the light of the stars and moon. She slowly sips from the teacup in her telekinetic grip.
The guard shuffles uncomfortably. “Ma’am? What are your highness’ orders?”
Celestia displays no sense of urgency in placing her teacup back on the marble table next to her seat. “Nothing as of yet. Please, keep me informed on developments.”
The guard is taken aback. “Your Highness, I-I must object… Ponies might get hurt.”
Celestia retains her orientation, her eyes observing the nighttime lights of downtown Ponyville in the distance. Her flowing mane garners another dimension of motion from a slight evening breeze. “My Little Pony, don’t worry. I will always do what is best for my subjects.” The princess again sips from her teacup slowly, before placing it back on the table and pouring herself more, all without moving her body in the slightest. “Rest assured, I myself have a…vested interest in making sure any conflicts of this nature are resolved. When the time comes for action, we will take it.”
“Yes, Princess.” The guard turned and walked back toward the castle interior.
“Oh, guard, one more thing.” The stallion turns to find Celestia now standing and walking away from her seat toward him. “These events are of a disturbing nature. I expect the utmost confidentiality and discretion.”
“Absolutely, your highness.” The guard bows.
Princess Celestia eyes him carefully. “…This means that, if during the night something were to occur, you would report this to me, even if you have to wake me up.”
The guard adopts a questioning look. “Would it not simply be easier to inform Princess Luna?”
Celestia’s face grows more serious, although it could still not be called stern. “I understand your hesitation, my loyal servant. But these things require…tact. I do not wish to involve Luna more than necessary, and ideally…not at all. Are we clear?”
“Y…Yes Ma’am!”
Princess Celestia lets a light, yet slightly cold smile grace her face. “Wonderful. I shall retire to my quarters soon. Have a good night, my friend.”
“It is an honor to be called such, Princess.” The guard departs.
Celestia returns to her seat with a darkened expression. She sips her tea once more, then places her hooves together and covers her muzzle with them, lost in thought. Her pair of calculating eyes sweep over the landscape as the sky blackens and the moon rises.

> The Twins Who Loved Me (Flitter/Cloudchaser)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had returned to Ponyville quite late from the Wonderbolts base. Feeling in no mood to sleep, you decide to take a quick trot around town.
There was only a few hours remaining until dawn, and if you couldn’t get to sleep, you might as well go out for a walk. The air was crisp and cool, and the town of Ponyville exuded a most wondrous serenity at this hour, lulling you into euphoria.
You were so caught up in the nighttime peace that you almost walked right by a duo of flashing police lights outside of a familiar house. You started when the realization came to you that this was the house of Flitter and Cloudchaser, twin sisters that you had spent a fair deal of time around. While you certainly didn’t know them as well as Thunderlane or Rain Drops, they were still your friends, and your heart was gripped with fear for them.
You raced into the house and to the living room, where you were relieved to see the twins slightly bruised, but okay. A royal guard sat conducting an interview while a few police ponies roamed about, stepping over broken plates and trampled foodstuffs looking for clues.
“Would anyone want to hurt you two? Do you have any special influence?”
Flitter, identifiable by her adorable bow, looked to be on the brink of tears and hysteria, and so Cloudchaser answered the question, albeit shakily. “N-no…I…We aren’t special. Why would anypony do this? I mean… we’re both on the Ponyville Weather Team, and I chaperone Filly Scout trips… Does that count?”
The royal guard, face worn from years of experience dealing with terrible answers to questions, remained emotionless, although he took time for an especially long blink. You decided now was a good time to announce your presence.
“Flitter! Cloudchaser! Are you two okay?”
The royal guard started and looked toward you, but relaxed when it became clear that you weren’t a threat. Flitter dashed toward you, enveloping you in a hug and crying into your shoulder.
“S-Somepony broke in! A big, mean earth pony! He b-b-broke our things and h-hurt me by throwing something at me!” Flitter sobbed, holding on to you.
The royal guard evidently had what he needed, and so he stood up. He made eye contact with you. “I have what I need. Can you make sure these two get settled tonight?” 
You nod. He turns his attention to Cloudchaser. “We’ll be in touch about the investigation,” he says, before trotting out with the police ponies in tow.
You mentally note how strange it is for a royal guard to be in charge of a nighttime investigation that would usually be handled by one of Ponyville’s detectives or Luna’s bat pony guard, but shrug it off. You were no police officer, after all.
Meanwhile, Flitter is still holding on to you, and Cloudchaser runs over and hugs you too. You console them and tell them to sit on the couch while you fix things up.
Whoever this pony was, he was very bad at his job as a criminal. You had cleaned up the debris on the floor and taped cardboard over the broken window within five minutes, and noticed that only a few small things had been stolen.
You bring a few cups of tea over to the twins. They thank you timidly, dried tears staining their faces, and began drinking.
“Are you two doing alright?” You ask.
They nod. “Okay,” you gently reply, standing up. “I’m going to head ho-“
“No!” Flitter cries. “We need you here! What will happen to us if he comes back!?”
You blink. Cloudchaser continues, “Please! Stay and protect us!”
While you really should be going, your heart tells you that you need to help out all of your friends in need, especially ones as cute as these two. “Ugh... Alright, I’ll stay here tonight. Let me just go ‘secure the perimeter’. I’ll be right back.” Flitter timidly giggles and gives you a mock salute.
After going around and locking all of the doors, you pick up three blankets from the hallway closet, as well as a candle from the foyer. Bringing the supplies back to the main room, you sit on the couch with the twins, distribute the blankets, and light the candle, placing it on the coffee table.
You all sit in silence for what feels like an hour. Suddenly Flitter wraps her forelegs around your right hoof. “Th…Thanks for staying with us,” she squeaks out. She then nuzzles into your arm.
“Y-Yeah, thanks a lot. I-I’m n-n-not scared or anything, but I feel better with you here,” Cloudchaser adds, placing her head on your shoulder.
Your mind freezes. Were you getting double snuggles? The most fabled and epic of all of the cuddling scenarios? You gently bring each of your forehooves around the twins, and they both snuggle closer to you, extending their wings about you too.
Yep, you were getting double snuggled. This was epic. And warm… really, really… warm. You feel the fuzziness on both sides of you and smile as you drift off to sleep.

> On Her Majesty's Snuggly Service (Princess Luna)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

DJ-Pon3 looked up at you with tired eyes as you gazed at the ceiling of your room, hopelessly lost in thought. She shifted her weight a little bit and made a quiet throat clearing noise as she lay her head on your shoulder, but you don’t notice. Finally, she speaks.
“You’re usually a better snuggler. Watcha thinkin’ about?” she manages to ask before letting out a big yawn and giving you a little nuzzle.
This startles you out of your trance. “What?”
DJ-Pon3 rolls her eyes, “You’re really lost in thought.”
“Oh,” you respond, with a tense groan, your back hooves wrestling anxiously under your sheets, “I’m just a little on edge with all the weird stuff that’s happened recently… Riots in the news, ponies acting strangely… I don’t know if you heard, but Flitter and Cloudchaser had a break-in a few nights ago.”
“Yeah, I did hear,” your friend replies, her tired voice touched with a hint of concern. “We *yawn* almost never have violent crime here. You were there with them after, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, don’t worry about all this. I think it’s just been a rough week.”
“I’m not so sure,” you reply wearily. “Something about all this just rubs me the wrong way.”
“Look,” DJ-Pon3 explains, propping herself up slightly and looking you in the eyes, “Even if all these events happen to be connected and what’s happening is some sort of big deal, Equestria has been through way worse.” She plops herself down on you again and lets out yet another yawn. “It’s not our job to deal with that stuff. Princess Celestia or Princess Twilight or, I don’t know, the Royal Guard deals with that sort of stuff.”
You frown. “That just doesn’t put me at peace.” You meet her eyes. “Do you ever feel as if… something you do gives you immense power? As if the ability to influence ponies magnifies the capacity for good and evil…? Like darkness is moving behind the scenes, and the true battle is the one for hearts and minds, and that the victor, though he may be only one, speaks for millions?”
DJ-Pon3 gazes into your eyes. The shimmering magenta orbs both calm you, and draw you away from your confidence.
Then, she speaks. “You are a sad, sad little pony. Go to bed.” She promptly buries her face into you.
“Hey! I’m not done, I really think that-“
DJ-Pon3 blindly flaps her hoof on your face several times, face still buried in your fur, before finding your muzzle and pushing in to silence you. You grumble lightly and then rest.
A long corridor of shimmering metal and glass lies before you, the hall lights reflecting off of the iridescent flooring. Walking forward, you come to a set of glass doors which open onto a plain balcony. Below lies an urban cityscape, the likes of which you have not seen in all of Equestria. Dozens, perhaps hundreds of tall skyscrapers lie on a grid stretching as far as the eye can see out onto a hazy horizon. Eerie but warm orange glows emanate from the windows of every building, futuristic wagons and carriages ride on the streets below, and the night sky holds no stars, with only the moon bright enough to shine on the city.
“Dazzling, isn’t it?”
“OH NUTS!” You jump, spinning to face the intruder. 
Her appearance is unthreatening, and you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. “Oh, geez, you scared me.”
The navy blue mare gives you a warm smile. “I’m sorry.”
You turn again to view the bustling cityscape. It feels so far away, despite the fact you’re standing on what you assume to be a building’s balcony. 
The newcomer joins you in watching the city. You wonder why you are so calm, and why you haven’t asked any questions, but the overwhelming need to simply watch the city stifles your thoughts.
“A beautiful picture,” the mare speaks. “The future can be wonderful, or terrible, or bittersweet, like this. But, to us, the future is only that. The future. For now, it is a dream.”
The buildings fade away in front of you, the stars return to their position in the night sky, and before you lies the familiar valley below Canterlot. You think you can see the lights of Ponyville in the far distance.
Turning to your companion, you make out her wings and horn. Remembering glances from Nightmare Night and the newspapers, you finally identify her.
“Princess Luna? Why am I dreaming about Princess Luna?”
“Oh, no dear subject. It is truly I. It is my duty to safeguard the dreams of the ponies of Equestria.”
You gaze at the Princess deeply before letting out a deep snortle of derision. “Yeah, right. The Princess of Night in Equestria enters my dream and is talking to me. You better have a warrant, lady. I know my rights. Oh wait, I almost forgot, you’re not real.”
Princess Luna continues, a little more darkly. “I can prove my reality. I know the things you keep in your dreams. Would you like to hear them?”
You have a quick pang of fear race across your heart before you smile confidently. “Hah! That proves nothing! I know the things hidden in my dreams. Therefore, a figment of my imagination would also know the secrets in my dreams, being itself a secret hidden in my dreams.”
Princess Luna seems to consider this for a moment, before collapsing on her haunches in abject defeat. “W…I have never thought of it that way. I don’t think I’ve ever had to deal with a situation like this before.”
You smile confidently at your genius, before realizing that if you were to follow your postulate to completion, you simply had bested yourself in a mind game. You frown at the knowledge that you are both a winner and a loser.
…Unless, of course, Princess Luna is actually real.
She looks up at you. Her eyes are much softer, and she feels more approachable. “I need your help.”
Now you’re actually interested in what’s going on in your head. Why would your brain create an image of the Princess in a dream, only to have her ask you for help? Do you have a serious case of narcissism? Or is something truly afoot?
You bring these thoughts together in the most logical way you know how. “Uh…”
“I’ve seen you helping my subjects all throughout Ponyville and Central Equestria throughout the last few weeks. Their dreams are full of happiness and rest. We…I also need your help. Please come to the Canterlot Palace tomorrow morning and ask for me.” She pleads softly.
“Uh…” you continue. “How…How do I know I’m not fooling myself? I’m going to look real stupid demanding to see a Princess I’ve never met.”
“I’ll leave a bouquet of blue roses on the entranceway. When you see them, you’ll know, and you can ask a guard to lead you to me. I’ll inform them that you’re coming.”
You watch her closely, her face portraying no sign of dishonesty. She continues, “You are special. I think you can shape the future you just dreamt of, if you only trust me.”
You drop down onto the cool grass in your dream and look out over your mind’s view of the present.
“Okay. See you tomorrow, Princess.”
Huh. Look at that.
What an interesting curiosity to see a bouquet of blue roses on the front entranceway to Canterlot Castle. It both struck you with anxiety and gave you a sense of calm, an assurance of what you already knew about your dream last night.
A chat with a gruff-looking but polite bat pony guard and a five minute trot later and you stand at the entranceway to Princess Luna’s chambers. You manage a weak cuff at the grand black doors, a poor excuse for a knock.
“Come in,” a warm voice replies.
You enter to see Princess Luna, seated by the fireplace and smiling at you. You smile back and enter. 
“I’m impressed at your confidence,” she says. “Most ponies bow profusely upon meeting me.”
You shrug. “You may be a Princess, your highness, and I’m happy to treat you with as much respect as the title deserves. But at the end of the day, we’re both just ponies.”
Luna gives you a sad smile. “Indeed. It is more true than you know.”
You scratch the back of your head. “I do want to apologize about not taking your dream entrance for face value last night, though.”
Luna waves you off with a hoof. “Quite alright,” she says. “Dreams truly are strange places; I do not condemn your skepticism.”
Your pitiful apology accepted, your mood is lifted substantially. “So… you needed my help?”
She grows nervous. “I require you to snuggle me,” she states. “Ever since my return, ponies have been afraid of me, and rightly so. Those who know me, know me in a professional, governmental capacity. I have been… craving platonic affection.”
You smile. You were about to cuddle with a Princess! “Well, come on! Gimme a hug, your highness!”
She walks over to you nervously. “We-I…Th..You are most gener…generous.”
You hold out a hoof to stop her. “Princess,” you begin seriously. “Cuddling is a lot like a trust exercise. I can’t give you my best unless I know you’re comfortable. Why are you acting so nervous?”
“I…It is nothing.”
“It is not something. Come, Princess. You want to cuddle me but you can’t trust me with the truth? Are you nervous about cuddling?”
“No, no! I snuggled plenty of ponies in my first reign. I…I’m sorry. I struggle sometimes because of this new dialect spoken today. It is so very difficult to speak, and I know I will not be accepted if I fail.”
“Not true,” You state bluntly. “I don’t care at all what you speak, so long as it’s Equestrian.”
“You will…let me speak freely in your presence?”
“Sure,” you smile, “we’ll be snuggling behind closed doors, you might as well be yourself.”
Princess Luna darts over to you and gives you a warm embrace. “OH, THANK YOU DEAR CITIZEN! THOU UNDERSTANDETH NOT THE TRIBULATIONS WE PASS THROUGH DAILY TO MAINTAIN OUR RUSE!”
“Uh…A little quieter? Just a tad?”
“Oh!” Luna says, pulling away from the hug. “We are sorry for the Royal Canterlot Voice; We are working on that. Still, thou bringest us great joy in thine judgement to let us speak free in thine presence! Let us rejoice with the sharing of affections!” She gives you another hug. This time you take the hug in. Luna is significantly softer than anypony you’ve cuddled before, and her body is a cool and calming temperature, just like a late evening in the fall.
“Come!” She says, “Let us partake in snuggles!”
As you soon learned, Princess Luna was definitely an Alpha snuggler. You had never been the little spoon before, and yet here you are, trapped by hooves and wings that restricted all escape.
Still, she was very soft, and you were quite comfortable under the royal sheets, which must have had a thread count of over ten thousand. Small slivers of light came in through the windows, only barely illuminating the set of rich blues and purples that adorned the Princess’ bedroom. You manage to snuggle into her a little more, her body being made more comfortable with the removal of her metal adornments.
Your head lie on her mane, the starry sky seeming to spill out from under your right eye. It was definitely a much different cuddling experience. You like it.
She speaks, a moderate whisper into your ear. “I thank thee, fair citizen. We have not been graced by the presence of a snuggle partner in many years.”
You don’t even bother turning to face her, you know you’re locked down tight. “Who did you snuggle in your past reign? I-If you don’t mind the question.”
You can feel Luna smile as she gives you a squeeze. “Of course it is alright. In the years before, We had many compatriots. Oh, the raucous nights of board games and feats of strength which were had!” She giggles and pulls you closer, as if remembering. “And if our friends were gone, we merely had to call for our servants.”
You thought about that. You suppose it would be nice to be able to afford 24/7 snuggle servants.
But Luna continues, mocking her past self. “’Servant!’ I would call, ‘Thou hast served us well; continue to do so. Fetch us one of the slaves, that we may snuggle them!’”
Your heart shoots into your throat. Did you just sign up for snuggle slavery?
“Oh,” Luna continues, dreamily, “how wonderful those days were! From any fiefdom, any slave, be they earth, unicorn, or Pegasus, woth at our beck and call! Alas, dissapointeth were We, when upon our return, we learned that the institution was abolished, more than 800 years before! Still,” she goes on, “We much preferreth snuggling with friends anyway. The slaves and serfs often wiggleth to excess.”
She warmly squeezes you again, nuzzling your cheek. “Will thou fillest a new vocation for us?”
“You…You want me to work for you like this?”
“We will pay thine employer, such that thou may takest an ‘extended leave of absence’. Thou willst be titled, ‘The First Snuggle Concubine of Her Highness, Princess Luna’.”
You figet uncomfortably in your fur and feather prison. “Um… can I be something other than a ‘concubine’?”
“What of ‘Consort’?”
“Umm…”
“Courtesan?”
“How about ‘advisor’? I’m not sure those words mean what you think they mean.”
“Verily, we have never been good with comprehension. Very well. It is settled. We shall sleep embracing thou now, and finalize such arrangements this evening.”
You were up so late last night that you didn’t end up getting much sleep, and you’re tired enough to sleep again. “Luna,” you ask, “Can I turn to face you?”
Luna silently gives you permission by lifting her wing and allowing you to rotate to face her.
She gives you a warm smile. “We thankest thou, once again.”
You smile back. “Sure,” you say as you feel her pull you into a warm embrace again. “Good day, Princess.”

> Moonsnuggler (Princess Luna, cont.)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sit in the garden of Canterlot Castle with Luna, smiling softly. The garden’s grand fountain centerpiece gushes majestically before you. A moderate breeze rustles the leaves of the foliage and cools you off.
You sigh contentedly.
Luna turns her head to face you. She smiles, and you smile back. “Thou sleepest quite a long time. Awake, and rise that you may join me in the breaking of fast.”
Your mind feels a little groggy. “Wha…what?”
“The day is past! It is once again the night,” Luna continues. “Awake and come to the refectory.”
Your head shoots up and you find yourself alone in Luna’s bedroom.
You slowly get up and stumble down the long hallway to the dining hall. It had been about ten days since you began your new schedule as Luna’s snuggling…assistant, and you were still very unused to a foreign actor in your dreams. In fact, it made you somewhat uncomfortable. There are some things in your head which you don’t want to be misconstrued.
You open the doors to the grandiose, large hall where the meals are served and pass two guards, who only show a passing interest in you as you enter. While you weren’t certain that they knew exactly why the Princess kept you around, her clear orders to treat you as an honored public servant gave you free reign in the castle, and an occasional nod or grunt of recognition from a passing night guard.
You arrive at the far end of the table, and sit on Luna’s left. Seated at the head, she gnaws at what you’ve learned is her favorite breakfast: mixed vegetables and apples, with an accompaniment of the classically medieval beer cheese soup. She raises her head to greet you, her eyes shimmering and a grin on her muzzle.
“Good Evening,” she begins. “I trust thou hast rested contentfully.”
“I have, Princess,” you reply as you take a few small pastries from a platter. “And you?”
“Oh, like never before. Verily, dear compatriot, the plan to entice you into our service was a great one.”
Before you can reply, you feel something on your leg. You look down to see a fairly large possum scaling its way up; you promptly freak out, standing up and launching the possum in the air. 
Luna catches it, and brings it into a warm nuzzle. “There thou art!”
You breathe heavily before crying out, “WHAT IS THAT?”
“This,” Luna replies, slightly peeved, “is our royal pet companion, Tiberius Flavius Artemisius Imperatus. Thou may call him ‘Tibbles’ for short, if thou willst.”
You didn’t know Luna had a pet, but seeing him aft very friendly toward Luna helps you regain your confidence, and you sit again. “I think I’ll just call him Tiberius.”
Luna chuckes and places the Latin ‘Emperor’ on the table. He scampers over to you, and you give him a quick pet.
“Busy day today, Princess?”
Luna groans. “So very much to do in so little time! We certainly cannot handle the work for long.” She turns her attention to Tiberius briefly. “Fly, Tibbles, we must finish our feasting.”
Tiberius scampers off to some unknown locale, unnerving one of the guards at the door.
You begin to speak. “Luna, have you ever perhaps considered just taking a day off?”
Luna cocks her head. “A ‘Day Off’? Of what speakest thou?”
“A day when you don’t work.”
Luna jumps to her hooves. “We can simply declare this ‘Day of Off’ at any time?”
You nod, but before you can open your mouth to expound upon the dangers of abusing this ability and the importance of a functioning government in a social contract-based society, Luna is already dragging you down the hallway back towards her room.
“Oh what joy!” Luna exclaims. “Guard, we are taking a day of off. Please inform our scheduling wench!”


“We shall partake in the video games!” Luna announces, her royal attire discarded, a hoodie donned, and her flowing mane tied back into a pony tail. Turns out, despite despising most aspects of modern culture present upon her return, she quite enjoys video games. “We command thou to snuggle us as we begin,” comes the next proclamation, as she promptly and unceremoniously flings herself on top of you.
“Uh…Princess?” You choke out. “Can we try a better position?”
Luna rolls her eyes. “Such an abrupt change is not appreciated, but very well.”
You squirm your way out from under her and sit up with your back against the backboard. You wrap your forehooves around her midsection and pull her towards you, your back legs resting on either side of her. You take the time to run a hoof through her mane and rub behind one of hear ears.
“Oh!” Luna exclaims, “This is a most superior position! We enjoy the feeling of safety, thank y-“ Luna is cut off by a camper in her video game. “WILLST THOU ENGAGE IN COMBAT WITH THINE PRINCESS, WHELP? DOST THOU EVEN PARTAKE IN THE RAISING OF WEIGHTS TO DEVELOP ENDURANCE?”


A few hours passed and the Princess had tired herself out, and you two had decided to take a stroll in the real-world version of the castle gardens. You two walked slowly, sides touching and chatting warmly.
“Wow, Princess,” you let out a hearty laugh, “I had no idea being in charge during the night could be so interesting!”
Luna chuckles, “Indeed,” she replies, before letting out a soft sight.
“Something the matter?”
“Well, it seems that We are no longer given the responsibilities that We once were.”
“You mean….since….” You knew you had to tread carefully around Luna on this subject, “You came back to rule again?”
Luna stops walking, her face scrunched up in confusion. “We do not think so. Our sister was more than happy to incorporate us in the ruling of the nation with all haste upon our…return.” Luna winces. “We knew nopony, and yet were given a full share of trust as if we had never left. Alas, as time goes on, and we have made acquaintances of many and friends of several…We have been receiving less and less to do. We have never even presided over court! We suppose it is not unreasonable; We do not understand much of what occurs in this era.”
“Really, Princess? I thought you said you had much to do today?”
Luna scoffs. “There are always dangerous beasts to be vanquished and laws to enforce when the sun descends. We do not, however, know how to rule; it is perhaps best to leave those things to Celestia, although we would be speaking untruth if we were to say we do not yearn for the days in which our words carried authority.”
You detect an emotion in her voice as she says this. It is not melancholy, but closer to resignation. Whatever it is, you don’t like it. “I can teach you how to rule again, Luna.”
She looks at you with shimmering, skeptical eyes. “And why dost thou believe thou canst instruct me, plebian?”
You smile, “Because I can vanquish a princess!”
You tackle Luna to the ground and violently tickle her. She laughs boisterously as your hooves pinch her joints and rub her belly. “HAHAHAHAAAAA…DE…HA…DESIST KNAVE!”
After a few minutes of a powerful tickle war, Luna finally relents the punishment she dished out on you after gaining the upper hoof and collapses on the ground next to you. You look up at the huge, softly glowing moon through the branches of the garden’s willow tree as fireflies dance above your head.
“Canst thou truly teach us to rule again?” Luna whispers to you.
“What kind of a servant would I be if I couldn’t?”
You aren’t looking at her face, but you know a grin pops up as Luna continues, “Even though thou cannot vanquish a weak and vulnerable princess in a conflict of tickles?” She lets out a few not so subtle snickers after completing her question. 
You ignore her. “We’re going to make Celestia’s wisdom pale in comparison to yours, Luna. First things first, I should get you brushed up on current events. Have you heard about the economic conflict between the agricultural sector and the confectionary market?”
“We have heard rumblings of discontent among the peons, but know no further than this.”
“It’s a classic conflict between land-based economic producers and specialized firms. How much do you know about free-market labor theory?”
Luna chuckles derisively. “We know much more than thou! In the past, we employed thousands of serfs to tend our vassalage!”
Your heart sinks in your chest. You forgot that Luna hails from a feudal society and has no knowledge of modern economics or comparative government.
“We also coined our own currency, with the moon present upon both sides. When we needed more, we simply made more! When one makes the money, they can continue to do so without any negative repercussions!”
This may take a while.


Golden beams of sunlight filter in through the grand hall of Canterlot castle and noble and rich ponies clad in all manner of beautiful and complex clothing awaited the opening of the daily court. Guards stood at full attention at all entrances to the hall. The banner of the two sisters swayed lightly in the natural air current of the room.
In the foyer beyond, you stand next to Princess Luna. “Are you ready?”
Luna turns to you and flashes a smile. She’s become so much more confident under your tutelage in the past several days, and you both know that she’s prepared for what is ahead.
From the next room, you hear a Revaille and a courier announce, “Presenting, the most majestic Princess Celestia of Equestria!” The hoof-pounding and cheers that follow can be heard without issue, even through the thick wooden doors. “I wish you all a good morning,” you hear Celestia say, “and I am prepared to take your petitions.”
In front of your door, more trumpets sound. Luna draws herself up straight. A guard announces, “Now entering, her Highness, Princess Luna of Equestria!”
Dead silence reigns as Luna throws open the doors and struts confidently into the court. You follow behind her, next to the captain of the night guard.
Every pair of eyes in the room follows your party as it progresses into the chamber. You even catch a glimpse of the normally stoic Celestia, with her jaw completely agape.
As you and the night captain make your way to the special seats normally delegated to the courtiers and advisors of Princess Celestia, Luna stands before the court on the stage. With a polished, practiced modern vernacular, she explains her presence. “Under the provisions of the Marena Carta, I hereby assert my delegated right to sit in full judgment and ruling at the day court of Equestria, alongside her Highness Celestia.”
Another second or two passes before the crowd present absolutely erupts in thunderous applause.  Luna beams as she beings taking bows and addressing nearby subjects.
Princess Celestia finally recovers during Luna’s celebration and fanfare and calls over her Chancellor, Quantitative Easing. “Who is that pony?” she asks her advisor, pointing directly at you.
“I am not sure, Princess. I haven’t seen him before.”
“Please find out who he is,” Celestia commands cooly. “I should like to speak with him.”

> The Snuggle Ultimatum
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

They say that if you refuse to speak first during a confrontation, you have the upper hand.
Following that advice was currently leading to a very awkward situation for you.
You were seated at an outdoor patio table on one of the castle’s balconies, behind a cup of coffee and a dish of small pastries. On the other side of the table, Princess Celestia sat analyzing you.
However, her uncomfortable movements made it quite clear that she was also unsure of what to say.
Your afternoon began on quite a high note, as you congratulated Princess Luna on taking a hard line during court against the cartel of bakers that, for whatever reason, seemed to be ripping Equestria apart. She seemed quite joyous, and asked you to stay in Canterlot another night. You looked forward to another session of cuddling.
That is, until a professional looking (and by your preemptive judgment, somewhat self-absorbed) pony barged into your meeting and demanded that you come with him to see Princess Celestia. Luna seemed to know him, and seemed quite perturbed by his entrance.
And a few minutes later, there you were sitting in front of Princess Celestia. And many minutes later, here you were, still sitting in front of Princess Celestia.
Eventually growing sick of the clearly political game being played, you stand up and make to head back to meet with Luna.
“Please, be seated,” Celestia says, finally relenting.
You sit. “Princess Celestia…it’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s quite nice to meet you as well,” Celestia says, flatly. Her mane undulates and shines in the afternoon sun. You get the feeling that she doesn’t think it’s nice to meet you at all.
Awkward silence overtakes the patio again as your natural capacity to take offense personally overtakes you. You decide it was correct to refuse to bow in her presence.
“How do you know Luna?” Celestia continues, her voice a little softer.
“Dreams,” you answer curtly.
Celestia frowns. “And yet you are here in real life with her now.”
“She came to me for help.”
“Help?” Celestia asks, seeming a little surprised. 
“It would seem being marginalized and almost friendless after being gone 1000 years is somewhat emotionally distressing,” you shoot back at her, with just a tad too much venom dripping from your voice.
Celestia lights up with anger on hearing this. 
“So,” you continue, “she wanted somepony to snuggle.”
Celestia’s anger morphs again into confusion. “Snuggle?” she asks, a touch of revulsion in her voice.
“Yeah. Princess, if I may, why did you call me here?”
“I simply noticed that a great change had come over Luna, and that you were likely responsible. I just wanted to talk with you. I don’t want Luna to get overwhelmed with work…or otherwise suffer because of the actions and promptings of another.”
A grin of amusement tickles the edges of your muzzle. A poorly veiled threat? Was this a bad mob movie? “What’s this about? Don’t like sharing the spotlight in court?”
Celestia’s façade breaks. “Listen, plebe! You have no idea what you’re dealing with. You think that politics is a game? You think you understand what’s at stake with all of these recent developments? You’re in way over your head, and I WILL take whatever steps necessary to make sure Equestria is safe, including dealing with you. I’m sure that my sister can find another two-bit, downtrodden commoner to smother at night.”
Surprising yourself with your own audacity, you throw your head back and let out a deep, genuine laugh. “Oh, Princess,” you say, wiping a tear away and regaining control, “you’re great. Keep up the planning, though, I’m not sure that Luna would take very kindly to your intrusion in her affairs.” 
Celestia growls. “I warned you about what is coming to pass. Now leave me.”
You stand from your seat, and walk to the other side of the table. “It was so wonderful talking, your highness,” you say, quickly enveloping her in a big, warm hug and nuzzling her chest. She freezes, as if shocked or unsure about the gesture. You draw one more circle in her fur with your nuzzle and whisper to her “you can have the two bits sent to my P.O. box.” Ten seconds later, you’re already well on your way back to Luna, and you plan on telling her all about your little exchange with her sister.
Celestia is left on the porch to contemplate what just occurred. “Darn,” she says to herself. “He is a really good snuggler…” 
Her eyes narrow as she plans her next move.

> Never Say Snuggle Again (Rarity/Princess Twilight-Noncuddling)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“THE WENCH SAYETH WHAT?” Luna cried.
“I’m not joking,” you sincerely reply. “Your sister certainly is a little protective of you.”
Luna continues to growl and twitch in anger, and you find it wise to continue before she made a poor decision.
“Although, if her reactions during court today were anything to go off of, I think that she’s not just mad about you being in the spotlight again.”
“What meanest thou!? Our associates are not playthings to be vetted by our older ‘sister’,” Luna barks, the last word being delivered with dripping condescension. 
“Well, Princess,” you continue, “I think she might be somehow personally vested into this whole farmer/baker divide. I don’t think it’s just her poor policy decisions making everything worse.”
Luna softens as she thinks about the situation. “The situation among the commoners has deteriorated… The plebes have rioted in Cloudsdale and our favorite underground café has been closed for weeks now!”
“I know. And it’s getting worse all the time.”
“Then we shall march to her and settle this now!” Luna stomps toward the door and you have to put your entire bodyweight in front of her to slow her down.
“Princess…politics is a game of patience and intrigue! You can’t just launch rebellions whenever you disagree…ergh…with somepony!”
“Clear our path, knave!” Luna demands, continuing her slow but relentless push through you to the door. “Such a strategy worketh perfectly well, as evidenced by….”
Luna cuts out, stops pushing you and sits down on the floor. Her ears flop to the sides of her head and her face takes on the most dejected look you’ve ever seen. “…Last time.”
Your heart is overwhelmed by compassion as you sit down and pull Luna into a big, warm hug. She sniffles a little into your shoulder.
“Princess…It’s alright. Don’t worry, you and I can still fix everything.”
“How?” she asks, her question muffled.
“We just need to fix everything from out there. You know, stop the problem from getting worse. THEN we can figure out what’s up with Celestia.”
Luna stands up, a look of determination in her navy eyes. “We…I, hereby appoint thou our royal inquisitor! Thou hast our full authority behind any action you taketh in combating this crisis!”
Your eyes grow to incredible sizes. “C-Cool!”
“Now, dear friend, we sendest thou to Ponyville, to converse with our acquaintance, Applejack. A strong and able farm pony such as her is an excellent place to begin on your inquisition of justice and sound economic policy! Make sure to write us with regular updates on thine progress, and we shall send thou any supplies thou needest.”
You stand up, preparing to leave.
“But first, snuggle us. We knoweth not when…or if, we shall seest thou again.”

You walk down the streets of Ponyville away from the train station with purpose as the inhabitants cast interested glances your way. You look down at the jewel encrusted, black glass chest piece you were given as part of your new position as “Inquisitor”.
“Oh, man, that’s super dank…” You whisper to yourself.
“Hey!” You look up and see DJ-Pon3 galloping toward you. “I couldn’t find you anywhere this week! Are you alright?”
You stop briefly, take off her sunglasses on put them on yourself. “I’m taking these. Secret government business.”
She blinks. “Yeah right! Give me back my sunglasses, scrublord!” She snatches them back.
You crack a small smile. “But actually, I’m on secret government business. I may have to miss our snuggling appointment Friday, lots to do. I’ll be in touch.” You nuzzle her, but whisper in her ear, “let me know if you notice anything weird going on with the baker strike.”
You then trot down the road, leaving a very confused house DJ in your wake.
“Okay,” you say to yourself, attempting to blot out that unfortunate distraction. “I’ve got to get to Sweet Apple Acres on the other side of town. Got to move fast, can’t let the Crystal Empire’s crystal berry fields burn down like the newspaper on the train said.”
You hear a squee and a mare throws her hooves around your neck from the side, nuzzling into you relentlessly. You hear Cloudchaser call, “Flitter! Get off of him!”
You sigh, turning to face Cloudchaser. “Don’t worry about it Cloudchaser.” You try to extricate yourself with a hoof, but to no avail, as Flitter, always the affectionate and sensitive twin, refuses to budge. “How is the house, do you have everything fixed up now?”
“Yeah!” Cloudchaser happily exclaims. “The last new window was installed yesterday and everything looks normal now. I’m, uh…I’m sorry about Flitter. She thinks that after all you did for us…Thank you by the way, but uh…She thinks that we’re indebted to you for life.”
“Because we are!” Flitter responds, obstinately. “He came and protected us and cleaned up our house!” She turns to you, “I know we hung out like once in a while before, but we need to hang out like, all the time from now on, m’kay? I’ll buy all the food because you rescued us from certain death.”
Cloudchaser sighs and blocks her face with a hoof to avoid being associated with the strange scene; a stallion decked out in super dope glass armor being hugged and talking to a pony that looks just like her hanging off his neck.
“Cloudchaser.” She looks up when you call her name. “Why are you guys out and about this late?”
“We could ask you the same thing! What are you wearing?”
Flitter stops nuzzling you and chimes in, “Yeah, it looks ridiculous! It’s also not as soft as you.”
“It’s…uh…it’s nothing. I’m here on some hush hush government business, capiche?”
“Ohhohoo, I always knew the government would pick up on that smart brain of yours,” Cloudchaser lectured while giving your head a few taps, “what are you, an intelligence analyst? A secret agent? Oh, you can’t tell me, right? Anyway, to answer your question, we’re going out to Golden Harvest’s farm.”
“Who?” you ask. “Oh, you mean Carrot Top?”
“Yeah yeah, whatever. Thirty or forty beavers came out of the Everfree and ate almost half of her crop for the year before she could shoo them away!”
You relax a little bit; it didn’t sound like any sort of foul play. Then again…
You took a moment to access your inner repository of useless knowledge. Beavers should be hibernating at this time, you muse, although it wasn’t so late that it was out of the question that a few would be up.
“That sounds terrible! What bad luck, and right before harvest,” you say. “You guys going over to help clean up or salvage carrots?”
“No,” Cloudchaser replies, “there’s not much else that we can do! We’re headed over to check on our investment.”
Your ears flick up. “What?”
“We invested in a huge, industrial carrot washer and peeler earlier this year for Golden Harvest. She’s promised us 10% of profits in return! I guess we’re lucky if we get anything this year…”
This was big. You make a mental note to go to Golden Harvest’s place later. “Can you tell her to take inventory of everything that’s missing? I think I need to speak with her a little later.”
Cloudchaser shrugs. “Sure thing. Come on, Flitter,” she says, peeling her sister off of you, “we’ve got to go.”
Flitter is removed with an audible pop and flails her forehooves toward you. “Come hang out with us soon! We miss you lots!”
You sigh. “Okay Flitter, I promise!”
You head back down the road the way you were headed. You make it maybe 150 feet before you hear a far off, “Yoohoo!”
You stop and bow your head in exhaustion. When will the madness end?! You have a job to do!
Rarity trots up to you. “Darling, what a lovely set of plate armor you have on there! Is that obsidian?”
“Rarity, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve sort of got to be somewhere-“
“Oh, then I’ll be quick darling! I heard from Rainbow Dash…”
Oh no.
“…That you’ve cured her sleeping issues with cuddling. So I thought, that perhaps you’d be willing to cuddle me for a little while? I’ve been so very exhausted with work, and…”
She continues to ramble on as your mind goes into Defcon 1. She was very pretty, fluffy like a marshmallow, and would probably make an excellent cuddle buddy despite her tendency to talk your ear off. It may have even been worth postponing your important mission for an hour…But this was different.
You did not consider yourself to be a particularly wise stallion, but among your many discoveries, you had realized that possibly one of the most important was simply: 
Never. Ever. Interfere with true love.
You weren’t particularly close to Spike the Dragon. He was one of those ponies…or dragons… that you knew tangentially but was always there to support you with a snarky comment. He was a dragon that, had he seen your chest plate, would have said, ‘Dude, dope chest plate’. Perhaps most importantly, however, he was in love with Rarity. And from what you saw, it was true love.
You turned and took off sprinting down a side street.
“Darling, what’s wrong?!” Rarity calls. 
You risk a look behind you, and notice that Rarity is following after you, and fast. Coming to a junction in the road, you dart your head left and right. Noticing Ponyville’s castle and having a moment of clairvoyance, you dart rightward and sprint through the doors.

“I don’t get it, Spike! Bakery sales are the highest they’ve been in years, but profit margins are falling.”
“Oh…how inter…ugh…esting” Spike groans from under a large stack of books he’s ferrying around the castle’s library.
“I’m going to have to work extra hard if I want to solve this friendship problem! And, it involves economics, which, as we all know, is my second favorite social science!”
Spike groaned. “Twilight, your cutie mark isn’t glowing.”
Twilight stopped smiling and clopping her hooves together and looked at her flank, which was indeed not luminescent. “What does that matter?”
“Well, if the map was calling you to solve this friendship problem…if we can call it that…then you’d know! Maybe it’s somepony else’s job?”
Before Twilight could respond, two pairs of galloping hooves resounded through the castle hallway and the doors to the library were flung open.

She was coming, and fast. You needed to find…OH! THERE HE WAS!
Twilight Sparkle looks at you in shock and annoyance. “Can I help you or-“
You sprint past her and up a small spiral staircase at the edge of the room. Spike is perched on the top landing and eyes you curiously. 
“I’m sorry buddy, but you’ll thank me later.” You say, wincing.
“Wha- AHHHHH!” Spike cries as he is unceremoniously bucked off the landing and back down to the floor. 
Rarity rounds the corner at that moment and makes eye contact with you, before being torn away by the pain-filled groans of Spike. “Spikey-Wikey!” She cries, watery eyes filled with concern.
You take this opportunity to run to the next landing, which happens to be situated in the next room. From there, you can hear Rarity fussing over Spike.
“Oh, what did that terrible stallion do to you? Don’t worry Spikey, I’ll fix you right up, and maybe even make you some tea! Perhaps a quick trip to the spa too, when you’re feeling better…”
You hear a quartet of hooves leave the library, presumably with spike in tow, and the door shut. You manage a quick smile, knowing that today, you advanced the cause of true love. 
You calmly walk back into the library, where Twilight Sparkle is standing with her mouth agape and eyes staring into the distance.
You clear your throat. “Sorry about that, Princess Twilight.” You even relent and give a quick head dip that could possibly pass for a bow.
She turns toward you and immediately anger takes over her features. “What was that about!? You run into my library and kick poor Spike, and-“
“Official Royal Business, Princess. I’m Princess Luna’s new inquisitor.”
Princess Twilight displays a look somewhere in the middle between surprise and disgust. “…Really? You?”
“Yes ma’am. Now, you wouldn’t happen to…I don’t know… have some sort of emotional need that I can fulfill by hugging or cuddling you?”
“…Wait, what?”
You stand there with stone cold, serious features.
She finally answers. “No. Get out of my castle.”
Your ears droop. “…Okay.”

> Live and Let Cuddle- Or, Apples are Forever (Applejack)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Finally free of annoying yet information-filled interjections by Ponyville’s inhabitants, you trot your way over to Sweet Apple Acres, taking care to walk by Carousel Boutique on the opposite side of the street.
Walking on the path into the farm, you notice that the chilly air does not carry the scent of apples. It makes sense, right? Uncut apples don’t smell like anything.
Pressing through the cold and the slowly encroaching dusk, you continue heading towards the barn. Eventually, you hear sounds of exertion and soon find Applejack working in an orchard to the left of the path. You hop the fence and approach her. “Applejack.”
Her appearance is ragged. She’s breathing heavily, moving with no little imprecision, and her coat seems to be disheveled. Evidently, she is so focused that she doesn’t hear you. Try again, maybe?
You move closer so that you’re only a few feet away. “Applejack.”
She seems to jump about 4 feet in the air, letting out a yelp and bucks you right where your left foreleg meets your torso. You are pushed off balance and stumble, barely managing not to fall.
And then, the pain hits. “AGHHHHHH!” you cry, holding the impacted area with your other hoof. “WHYYYY? AGHHHH!” You take a deep and sharp inhalation before letting out one last, “AGHHHH!”
Applejack seems distraught. “Oh, I-I’m so so sorry, Sugarcube! I…I didn’t know you were there! I’m so sorry!” Her voice begins to tremble.
“D-don’t worry about it Applejack. Really, I’m fine, I…ow… I shouldn’t have snuck up on you.” She still seems really bothered, which is odd. You don’t know Applejack particularly well, but from your limited interaction, it really seemed like she was the kind of pony to buck you in the face first and ask for questions later…And certainly didn’t seem like one to deliver apologies for anything short of felonious activity.
Stubborn. You liked that quality. You were pretty stubborn yourself.
Suddenly, her distraught look turns to one of curiosity. “What in the hay are you wearing there on your chest, sugarcube? Is that some sort of growth or something?”
You had totally forgotten about the presence of your dank chest plate, but were grateful that Applejack brought it up, for two reasons: first, it reminded you of the reason you came to speak with Applejack in the first place. Second, it was the final piece of evidence needed to prove to you that your cool inquisitor’s chest plate was doing more harm than good. “It’s, uh, it’s nothing,” you say, unhinging it and throwing it off to the side. “Listen, I came because I really need your help.”
“My Help?! Oh, no! I don’t have no time to help nobody!” You were unsure whether or not the triple negative conveyed the intended logical conclusion of her statement.  Regardless, Applejack continues, “the farm’s falling apart! Applebloom and Big Macintosh are off making deliveries and I have to get all these apples off the trees before the first frost tonight!”
“Woah, woah, Applejack, don’t you freak out on me,” you say with somewhat of an edge to your voice, having quickly grown tired of her erratic behavior.
“Don’t you dare give me that, Mister!” she roars defiantly. “With this here baker strike, nopony is buying apples! That means I need to get every apple off these trees, and I will buck you right in that smug mug of yours if you don’t git right off this here property! If I can’t sell all these apples to anypony that will buy them at cost…then…then…”
She bursts into tears, her entire body racking from the sobs. “Then we’re gonna lose the farm!” she wails. You embrace her, allowing her to cry into your coat.
“Well, that’s what I’m here to talk about.”
You explain everything; your new inquisitorial position, your mission to get to the bottom of the economic crisis, and especially the fact that you had escaped from Rarity’s clutches, which should have induced a hearty chuckle from Applejack, but didn’t. She really must be hurting, which gives you an idea.
“Applejack,” you say, looking into those forlorn green eyes of hers, “I need your help in fixing everything. You’re one of the best farmers in Equestria, and certainly the most famous. You can get the farmers all together, present a united front.”
“I can’t leave the farm,” she says with watery eyes. “Big Mac is traveling darn near 30 miles a day making deliveries, and even Applebloom has been working ten-hour days selling from the stand in different towns ‘round the Everfree. If I go, the farm won’t survive…” She looks around to the thousands of apples still left in the orchard. A biting wind howls from the west, signaling an incoming snowstorm. “It might not even if I stay.”
“Well, see, I’ve been thinking about that,” you say. “My position comes with some powers, and I’m willing to fund your farm through next year if you agree to help me.”
She immediately throws her hooves around you and lets out a laugh of pure joy. It’s a sound that is filled with pure honey and makes the heart leap with delight. You smile.
“You’ve been working hard. What’s say we celebrate by taking a load off and having some famous Sweet Apple Acres Cider?”
Ten minutes of Apple hauling later and you’re seated with Applejack on a pile of hay in the Apple family barn, a mug of cider in hoof. “Ahh,” you sigh. This was the life.
“You sure can drink, pardner!” Applejack exclaims with a big smile.
You laugh. “Runs in the family.” You polish off your third mug, while Applejack has long since finished her first and settled into a comfortable position. “I do have two questions to ask you though.”
“Shoot.” She says, her grin making her eyes crinkle in a genuine expression of bliss.
“Well, first off, how’d you manage to get in debt?”
“Ahh,” Applejack’s expression sours. “Ya’ll ‘ll have to ask my rockhead of an older brother about that one. Had to rebuild the barn three times last year, and he thinks it’s a good idea to invest in a second set of cider equipment and pear futures and put up the farm as collateral on the loan! He picks up one of those fancy investing books now and again and struts around for a few weeks like he’s some big Manehattaner.”
“Okay, fair enough. My other question though: if you were in trouble, why didn’t you go to Twilight Sparkle for help?”
“Well, Twilight could help us all out from time to time, but doesn’t. Takes the whole new ‘Princess’ thing very seriously. Says she doesn’t want to promote Nexo…Nespo….Nepi…”
“Nepotism?” You venture.
“Hay if I know,” Applejack says. “I spent my filly years studying Political Science, not Latin.”
“You didn’t study Agriculture at school in Ponyville?”
Applejack laughs, placing a hoof around you to support herself, “Ah, sugarcube, ya’ll don’t study farming! You live it!”
She doesn’t remove her hoof, and instead rolls over and leans into you, smiling serenely with her eyes closed. “Boy, I’m real tired. I’m glad ya’ll suggested taking a load off in here.” She nuzzles your neck.
“I bet. Way you look, you must have been working yourself to death.”
“Hey now, what’s that supposed to mean?” She looks up at you with a pouty face. You hope she doesn’t mind your teasing too much.
“Ah, nothin’.” You say, eliciting and affectionate yet powerful knock from Applejack’s hoof right on the spot where she kicked you earlier. “AGHHH!”
“Oh, uh…sorry sugarcube.”
A few minutes of snuggly silence pass. You rub a hoof along Applejack’s back, nothing all the inflamed muscles. You apply a little pressure to help massage them and ease the recovery.
Applejack sighs in contentment and looks up at you. “I got somethin’ for you.” She takes off her hat and puts it square on your head, adjusting it slightly to make sure it’s in the perfect position. “Now that there is a temporary honor, y’hear? You run off with that an’ not any alicorn in the whole world will be able to protect you from me.” 
You respond by petting her mane, and then giving her a big hug.

Outside the barn door, the first snowflakes of winter begin to fall against the black curtain of night.

> AUTHOR UPDATE
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

   
> The Mare with the Golden Mane (Derpy Hooves/Flitter/Cloudchaser)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	You leave Sweet Apple Acres and walk to town in the snow.
Working off of a tip from Applejack, you have decided that your next destination was Manehattan. There, you’d talk to her Aunt Orange Blossom, who was said to be intimately connected with all sorts of agricultural market commodities. Applejack planned on rallying farmer support for maintaining the peace and forming a negotiating block, but she had sent along word to an old friend of hers that you would be staying with.
Still, you had one piece of business to take care of before you headed out of Ponyville. Your earlier run-in with Flitter and Cloudchaser had raised some alarm bells in your head. The latest in a strange set of occurrences in Ponyville, you decided it was your job to investigate, particularly because a farm was involved. After all, you never know what could be related.
Walking through the town toward Carrot Top’s small outlying farm, you happened to notice a large stallion in an equally large, dark coat behind you as you trudged through the snowy streets. At this point in the night, only the main thoroughfares were lit, leaving the alleyways and side streets pitch black as thick clumps of snow fell from the sky at an almost alarming rate. No matter how far you walked, however, the stallion never turned down any of those dark streets.
Straight, left, right, straight, left…the stallion follows you. He’s far enough back to avoid arousing suspicion from the few other ponies out at this hour, but close enough that you are acutely aware of his presence.
In a state of unease, you continue toward the farm normally until you are struck by an ingenious idea; you take a wrong turn at the next intersection and advance far enough to allow the stallion to take a turn as well. When he does, you act as if you made a mistake and advance in the opposite direction, knowing that you’d be able to confront the pony if he did the same.
Much to your relief, he continues on in the same direction without so much as a glance in your direction. Maybe you were wrong about the stallion. These weird happenings and the stress of the fate of the Equestrian economy resting on your back are more than enough to fry your circuits. Continuing on, Carrot Top’s farm looms in the distance.
_____________________________________________________________________
The fields are an absolute mess. After explaining your role to Carrot Top, she lets you take a look around while she and the weather twins finish their cleanup.
There are basically no carrots anywhere, and in many places the ground is torn to bits. You notice, however, that the beaver tracks left on the ice-cold, loamy soil are irregular. There was also just the faintest hint of magic in the air. You wonder if perhaps Discord had made a few beavers go absolutely mad again.
You start heading back to the trio in the farmhouse when something fairly heavy rams into your flank at full speed. You’re pushed aside but keep your footing.
Your assailant on the other hoof, does not and goes muzzle first into the dirt. You spin around ready to fight, and instead find a gray Pegasus mare lying face down in the rough, snowy field.
“Derpy?” you ask, suddenly extra curious.
She scrambles to her hooves wildly. “I’m sorry!” she cries. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!”
“Hey, its alright,” you reply, trying to calm her. “No harm done.”
“I need to be sorry anyway!” she says, one eye focused on you while the other looks slightly away. “I shouldn’t have been flying, it’s too dark out.”
“Where were you headed?”
“I’m going to see Carrot Top! Her farm is a mess, I’m guessing you’re here for the same reason I am?” She looks visibly distraught.
“I sure am. You look...uh, are you doing okay?”
She lets out a hard breath. “Is it that obvious? I’ve had the worst day. I misdelivered a whole bunch of mail, got in an argument with The Doctor, and now my best friend lost most of her livelihood for the year!”
You nod quietly. All these strange happenings- break-ins, crop losses, and the trade war, hurt a lot of ponies. Carrot Top seemed to be holding up fairly well, but if Applejack’s reaction had any takeaways, it was that losing crops was serious, serious business. You wouldn’t be surprised if Carrot Top was really falling apart inside and called Derpy for support.
“Hey,” you say, brushing some snow and dirt out of her mane with a hoof. “It’ll all be all right. You’re Ponyville’s best mailmare, The Doctor is a friend who would never leave you, and I’m working on fixing Carrot Top’s issue. These problems will pass.”
Derpy gives you a big hug in response to your encouragement, nuzzling into your neck. “Thanks,” she says before letting out a long hum. “mmmmm… you’re nice and warm.”
You let out a deep chuckle, and stroke her mane.
After thirty seconds more, you speak up. “Well, you’re really warm too, but that might just be because we’re freezing to death in subzero temperatures. Let’s head inside.”
She gives you a big squeeze before letting go. “Okay. Wow! A tight hug really brightens up your day!” she chirps, throwing a wing around you as you both begin the walk to the farmhouse. 
You smile softly but deeply. “It sure does.”
________________________________________________________________
Carrot Top stands next to you and her new machine while the twins and Derpy look on. You scour her machine over, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Something struck me as odd about your field,” you say. “I just want to check a few things.”
Carrot Top shuffles uncomfortably. “Okay, but be careful! That hunk of metal is expensive.”
Your eyes narrow. “Is this drive belt supposed to be, you know, cut?”
“Huh?” Carrot Top says, tilting her head.
“And what about the missing screw on the motor casing? You could blow out half the machinery on this if you ran it now.”
“That’s impossible. The machine is brand new! I ran it over a few carrots just to make sure it was working!”
You groan. “Then I guess my suspicions were correct. The loss of your harvest was no freak of nature, it’s an act of sabotage.”
Gasps come from all over the room.
“The strange ‘Beaver Tracks’, the leftover magic residue, the deliberate removal or breakage of these machine parts… someone is working against you. Derpy, stay here tonight and make sure you’re both safe. Go get the police in the morning, tell them an inquisitor demands they launch an investigation.”
Carrot Top speaks up, “I only harvested maybe a tenth of my crop before today, and insurance might not cover this if we can’t prove that it’s vandalism.”
“Don’t worry,” you say. “I’ve got you covered. Expect a check in the mail.” 
After wrapping up a few more loose ends, you turn to Flitter and Cloudchaser. “I’m headed home, will you guys walk with me?”
______________________________________________________________
You trudge through the snow with the twins, headed in the direction of your respective homes. Flitter walks close to you. Once in a while you will shift over a foot or two to give her room, causing her to shift over even closer to you. Eventually you realize it’s a lost cause.
Cloudchaser and you discuss Carrot Top’s farm and the incident at some length. “Why did you even suspect sabotage at first?” she asks.
“Well, to be honest, it was you guys. A break in at your place with almost nothing stolen, and then vandalism on a farm in which you two have an investment? Too weird, especially in a zero-crime area like Ponyville.”
“Do you think someone is after us?” Flitter asks, fearfully.
You scrunch up your muzzle in thought. “Maybe,” you say. “But then again, maybe everything is unrelated. Who knows?”
“Well, I hope nothing happens to any of our other investments,” Cloudchaser says as an afterthought.
“…Other investments?” you ask. Where were they getting this money? The weather team doesn’t pay THAT well.
“Sure, we have a few other farming investments around town. We also own a 15% stake in the stuffed animal store downtown.”
Flitter clears her throat.
“Okay,” Cloudchaser corrects herself, “Flitter owns a 15% stake in the stuffed animal store. We were thinking about putting some money into one or two more farms, but we weren’t sure. With what’s been happening, I think we might put that off.”
That’s it. That’s what you needed. “Guys, I think some of the striking associations- bakers, general stores and whatnot- are doing this. Or, at least one disgruntled pony is. All because of your farming investments.”
Instead of the reaction you expected, the twins seemed to chew this information over quietly as you approach your house.
You immediately push them both behind a wall. “Ah!” Cloudchaser yelps. What was that fo-“
“SHHHHH!” you shush, looking around the corner. You couldn’t believe this.
On the far corner of the next intersection, standing rock still, eyes facing toward your house, stood the stallion from earlier in his long, dark coat. You had barely noticed him, and probably wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for the lull in the conversation.
“That stallion over on the corner was following me earlier. Now he’s watching my house.”
The twins poked their heads around the corner. Flitter let out an audible ‘eep’ of terror, as well.
“Are you okay Flitter?” you whisper.
“She’s fine,” Cloudchaser quickly interjects. “She gets spooked real easily, is all.”
“Well,” you continue, “I can’t stay at my home tonight. No way. I’ve made too many enemies in the past week for me to think that that guy’s got my best intentions in mind. I’ve got a train to Manehattan to catch tomorrow morning, can I stay at your guys’ place?”
Flitter lets out another ‘eep’, this one much happier.
______________________________________________________________________
As soon as you stumble out of the howling wind and snow into the twins’ home, Flitter throws off her winter gear and immediately flings herself onto you. Cloudchaser rolls her eyes. “I’ll go make a quick dinner for us.”
Flitter and you sit down on the couch next to the living room table, with Flitter refusing to remove her wing from its position wrapped around you. She snuggles up to you and nuzzles you happily. Suddenly, a parchment with Princess Luna’s seal pops into existence in front of your face. You unroll it and begin to read,
Most Loyal Inquisitor and Dear Friend, 
We have received thine request for aide from the royal coffers and shall grant it post-haste directly to Applejack. We are pleased that thou art not afraid to utilize the many resources at thine disposal in the completion of thine daunting mission.
We are also pleased that thou hast a plan for the days ahead. Making contact with the First Estate in the East and rubbing muzzles with the patricians with the knowledge to help us is undoubtedly an excellent step. 
However, we recently hath received a most worrying communication from our sister’s dear student and pet scholar, the Princess Twilight Sparkle. Although we trust thou hast good reasons for bucking the fair dragon knight Spike, it would be best not to anger royalty. Thou art lucky she prostesteth to us and not to our dear sister. That, certainly, would make thine task insurmountable.
A final concern of ours is that of your methods. We have seen the dreams of your compatriots Applejack and Derpy Hooves, and noted that thou hast shown them affection. Although we recognize that utilizing snuggles was the best way to extract information from these ponies, we also must remind thou that any snuggling you do is only because we allow it. At any point, we can sayeth, ‘thou canst only snuggle thine Princess’, and thou must do it. Just letting thou knoweth so that thou canst use discretion in thine dealings. 
Verily, we art not jealous.
We expect another progress report from thou tomorrow.
Sincerely,
Her Highness, the Most Royal Luna, Princess of Equestria
P.S. XOXOXOXO, *nuzzle* *nuzzle*
P.P.S. We hath named Tiberius as our Social Services advisor and brought him with to various official meetings. His presence unnerves the officials and we receive great joy from watching their squirming. Just thought thou wouldst like to know.
P.P.P.S. We art NOT jealous.
You roll your eyes as Cloudchaser brings dinner out to the table.
After eating, you feel it is best to go to sleep so that you can get the first train out of town in the morning. Naturally, Flitter clings to you and makes her demand “We’re going to share my bed, M’kay?”
“Flitter,” Cloudchaser starts, “that’s unreasonable. Let him use the Guest Bedroom.”
“What? No! He definitely wants to snuggle me tonight.” She directs her next question at you. “Do you hate me or do you want to snuggle me?”
“Uh,” you respond.
“See!” Flitter says. “It’s fine.”
“Flitter,” Cloudchaser says, more stern this time, “stop it and leave him alone, okay?”
Flitter whispers to you, just loud enough for Cloudchaser to hear, “she’s just jealous because she doesn’t get to snuggle much.”
“I AM NOT JEALOUS!” Cloudchaser yells, pouting as she stomps her hoof on the floor.
Silence reigns for a few moments as Cloudchaser’s face turns bright red. “Okay, goodnight,” she squeaks, running into the kitchen. Flitter pulls you upstairs.
You manage to remove yourself from her embrace in order to use the restroom, but before you head back to bed you sneak downstairs into the kitchen to talk to Cloudchaser.
“’Chaser?” you ask as you turn the corner. 
She looks up from cleaning the counter. “Hi. Uh, listen, I’m really sorry tha-“
You pull her into a big hug. She’s surprised at first but returns it in full. “Thanks for letting me stay here and being a wonderful host. I owe you a dinner sometime.”
“Okay,” she says into your coat. “Flitter and I can come over when you get back.”
“Well, I only owe you a dinner. You’re the one who made dinner tonight. All Flitter did is choke me with her affection. Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but everyone deserves my undivided attention. Have to warn you though, it’s going to be really cold when you come over, and we might have to snuggle by the fireplace to stay warm.”
She pulls away and gives you a gigantic smile. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to make that sacrifice.”
You give her a wink and head back upstairs to Flitter. Opening the door, you notice that she’s sitting on the floor. She looks up at you awkwardly. “Hey, um…I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. You can stay in the guest bedroom if you want.”
You sit down on the floor next to her. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Because you don’t want to snuggle me.”
“Not wanting to snuggle you? Ridiculous.” You put a hoof around her. “I adore the way you snuggle. Full of determination and affection.”
“I got carried away though. Ever since you came and helped us, you’ve been my hero, but I guess being around a hero was too much for me to act normally.”
“Well, I’m no hero. But you’re mine for adding so much happiness to my life.” You boop her on the nose, causing her to giggle. “But you should really be nicer to your sister.”
“I know.” She says, sighing. “You sound like my Mom.”
“Your Mom? I thought I was your hero?”
“Oh, shut up,” she says playfully, sticking her tongue out at you. You share a big laugh and a wonderful cuddle.

> Snuggle Another Day (Coco Pommel)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Thanks for accompanying me, Coco,” you say, smiling at the short beige mare beside you. “I figure that it’s going to be a lot better to have a native Manehattaner with me, I don’t fit in well with the culture here.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” she says, slightly fidgeting as she smoothes out her pastel dress.
Being suddenly reminded of your own appearance, you tighten your tie before knocking four times on the broad penthouse doors in front of you.
A proper-looking stallion opens the door, takes one look at you both, and steps aside, allowing you both passage into a large room with a vaulted ceiling and double-height mirrors overlooking the Manehattan skyline. A clearly professional entertainer is playing piano in the corner of the room while caterers whisk around the room delivering champagne flutes and Hors d’oeuvres, adding a distinctly jovial, yet aristocratic, flair to the ornate space. A group of ponies are dancing near the piano, and a bar is set up on your right, a modern piece of furniture glowing with a soft blue light. You think back to the eerie dream you had when Princess Luna first spoke to you, and feel that perhaps that bar belongs as a set piece in that megalopolis. Given the occupation of the room and it’s size, you guess that there are perhaps eighty or ninety ponies in the room, not counting the wait staff.
Feeling both in your element and a touch out of place in this environment, your eyes narrow and you scan the room until you find your target. You begin walking and motion with your head for Coco to follow. 
The mare you are looking for, a pale coated individual in her early middle age, notices you and begins trotting (no…more like gliding) toward you, her ornate orange manepiece staying motionless as she moves. “Inquisitor, I am so truly glad you could make it.”
“Mrs. Orange Blossom,” you begin, adding a half-bow and a hoof twirl for flourish, “this is a lovely venue. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Princess Luna thanks you.”
The mare in front of you seems to lose interest and turns toward your plus one. “My, is that Madam Pommel? Your work is the talk about Bridleway! My niece speaks very highly of you. ”
Coco Pommel blushes and timidly brushes one of her front hooves with the other. “Thank you.”
“Now,” Orange Blossom begins, “let’s have our discussion. I’m sorry it couldn’t be under calmer and clearer circumstances. I’m sorry my husband is out of town as well, he surely would have liked to meet the both of you.”
Before you can open your mouth to reply, an official-looking staff member approaches. “Mrs. Blossom, you have an urgent phone call.”
She waves him off, dismissively. “I am entertaining, sir. Tell them to try again later.”
The staffer shifts uncomfortably. “It’s your husband, ma’am. He truly says it is urgent.”
With a glare and a touch of fear in her voice, Orange Blossom relents. “Fine. I shall be right there.” You see her grit her teeth.
She turns her attention back to you, a little calmer. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back. Socialize, please! Enjoy the party.” With that she trots off, her manepiece moving in what is quite an agitated manner.
You shudder and walk to the bar. Coco Pommel follows behind you, observing the room. “I need a drink.”
The bartender asks, “Can I help you?”
“Yeah,” you reply. “What are the house specials?”
“Well, we have a few new cocktails designed by some of Manehattan’s top mixologists, but may I suggest the wine offerings for the evening? They are truly quite good pairs with the food and the house cocktails are primarily intended for after dinner.”
“Ugh.” You grunt. “I’ve seen them. A thirty year old left bank Bordeaux, a sweet Muscatel, and champagne with the coloration of fruit wine. I don’t intend to poison myself tonight, sir.”
You look up with a cheeky grin. It drops off of your face when you discern that the bartender is clearly unamused. “Well,” you sigh. “I’ll take a scotch, whatever the house is. Double. Straight.”
The bartender nods. “And for you, ma’am?”
“O-oh,” Coco stammers, her face heating up from the unexpected pressure. She looks at you for guidance. You cock your head at her. “Uh, I guess I’ll just take a tonic water, thank you.”
You begin chatting as the bartender prepared your drinks. “This drink is direct combat against that entrance we just had,” you shiver. “I don’t like it here.”
“How so?” Coco asks.
“Everypony here is so cold to each other. It’s like they are so self-absorbed that they are only acutely aware of others. I hoped that that was just a stereotype about the old money families here, but that’s the fourth or fifth experience I’ve had like that since I got off the train this afternoon. I don’t know,” you sigh, “maybe I’m being too sensitive. Too much of a good old boy from Midwest Equestria.”
Coco is looking at you intently with shimmering eyes and upturned ears. “I understand completely! That’s the big reason that I wanted to start off the midsummer theater festival again. No one here cares about anypony but themselves, unless you give them a reason to. If it wasn’t for Applejack and Rarity’s help, the ponies in my community would have nothing to rally together behind, and everyday they’d act just like…” Coco sighs. “This. I wish Manehattan had a culture like the rest of Equestria.”
You look at Coco Pommel with new admiration. What a caring mare. “Well, we could put on a play for these ponies and see if it helps.”
Coco Pommel laughs at this and you laugh with her.
Looking around again you see a mare with a dark, almost black mane standing by the door and rummaging through her purse. A waiter passes by. A stallion in a blue suit approaches the bar and orders a drink, then makes eye contact with you.
“Why, hello. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance,” he says. His meticulously coiffed green mane and sparkling eyes make him look a little more genuine. 
You introduce yourself by name and go on to describe yourself, “…I’m Princess Luna’s Inquisitor of economics.”
“Ah,” he says, “not a job anyone envies at the moment. But that’s darker talk for another time, no conversation for a soiree. I’m Rare Mint, the borough’s treasurer.”
“Nice to meet you,” you say, happy to be talking with someone showing a few glints of emotionality. “This is my friend, Coco Pommel.”
“Oh, how nice to meet you! I’ve read much about you in the press, all good things I assure you, but didn’t recognize you as I had yet to put a face to the name. I believe the latest headline was, ‘The Big Two on Bridleway Become the Big Three’, was it not?”
You look at her with widened eyes. You knew she was a big wig costume designer, but you didn’t know she was a rising star at the very top of her field.
“Oh, yes it was,” she says. “Ponies seemed to really respond to my work on Clover and the Technicolor Dreamcoat.”
“Wow,” you let escape, “there are a lot of really powerful ponies at these things. I’m intimidated.”
Rare Mint chuckles. “If you’re new to the social scene in the city it can be. But people like me are small fry, friend. The Lieutenant governor was here earlier, he left about twenty minutes ago.”
You let out a long, slow whistle.
He laughs in response. “I love meeting people from inland, so real, such a breath of fresh air. Where are you from?”
“Coltcago, originally. I’ve been in Ponyville about two years now.”
“A beautiful city and a quaint, charming town. Well, I’ll let you enjoy the party,” he says smiling and shaking your hoof. “I hope to run into you again soon.”
As he leaves, you swore you saw the black maned mare looking right at you, but when your eyes finally came into focus she was back rummaging in her purse.
Twenty-five minutes or so passed; you joined the pain throng of ponies in the middle of the room, and introduced yourself to several groups, one mediated by Rare Mint. It was all the same to you; the Deputy Mayor, a real estate magnate, a young startup multi-millionaire, the President of the Manehattan Federal Reserve bank, a congresspony…
And when you turned your head, there the black maned pony was, looking for you, presumably. Thinking quickly, you immediately pull Coco Pommel onto the dance floor. “Want to dance? Great.”
She’s surprised at first, but ends up smiling. “Wow, where did you learn to waltz?”
“Learn? It’s just one two three, one two three.” You give her a twirl, “and the occasional stylistic choice.”
The mare, likely engaged in the same practice as the stallion who followed you in Ponyville, passed by, hopefully having missed you, just as Orange Blossom tapped you on the shoulder. “I thought you were a little too unkempt and uncouth, but it appears, if your dancing ability and choice of drink have anything to say about it, it would appear you have a form of rugged class to you, Mr. Inquisitor.”
Still dancing with Coco Pommel, you wink, then ask, “Can we go somewhere private to talk?” 
The black maned mare was nowhere to be seen.


“I’m glad you’re coming to fix this,” Orange Blossom says to you and Coco Pommel as you sit in a parlor adjacent to the main party room. “My husband has been running himself ragged trying to keep all of our investments together, that’s why he’s not here now, and why he called me.”
“Who do you side with, Bakers and processors or the farmers?” You ask, curious. A mare with a lot of powerful friends could be a strong ally.
“Our family has a lot of money in everything- bakeries in Manehattan, 500 acres of orange orchards in the country…We, just like everyone else in Manehattan, want this to be over as much as everyone. Instability is no good for business. Just yesterday, our friends had a window smashed during a demonstration. ”
“Well, I guess I’m here to ask; is there any way that you could try and talk reason to either camp? Or, is there a way that I could get some sort of negotiations going?”
Orange Blossom narrows her eyes at your desperation.
You sigh. “We’re up a creek without a paddle here, Mrs. Blossom. Luna has sent me to settle these strikes and embargoes, and restore a free market, which means, I suppose, taking the side of the farmers. How can you help me?”
“Well, unfortunately there is not much that I can do, my dear boy. You’re in the wrong place.”
This intrigues you. She notices that it does and continues, “I can tell you with 100% certainty, and so can everyone else with enough connections here, that someone is pulling the strings from Canterlot. It certainly could be fixed overnight with a government policy shift or a decree… and some say that it would have fizzled out on its own if the bakers hadn’t been receiving tacit government support.” 
Your eyes widen and you sit on the edge of your seat. “Then… how deep does the rabbit hole go?”
“Not all the way to Princess Celestia, if that’s what you are thinking. If there was even a whiff of her involvement, every tabloid in every city would have picked it up long ago. And the government has very good corruption controls, so I doubt it could be a government minister. No, it is certainly someone else who can influence things more softly.”
“Do you have any idea of who could be doing this?”
She shrugs. “I have absolutely no clue. I know dozens of investors, and any could be involved for some sort of gain. Interest Payment, Capital Investment, Moneybags, Positive Forecast, and Prime Lending are a few names that come to mind, but there are so many others, and I wouldn’t have any idea of where to start.”
You look incredibly disheartened at this. All you got from this whole visit was a vague trail to rich ponies in Manehattan; hardly the breakthrough lead you hoped for.
Orange Blossom smiles at you. “But, this is where I can be of assistance. You should have learned three things today, Mr. Inquisitor.”
You look up, hope once again beginning to brew in your mind. “And what were they?”
“First,” she begins, “anypony who is anypony knows everypony. Second, Money and government power always go together.”
“And what about the third thing?”
Orange Blossom has a glint in her eye as she finishes, “the third lesson is merely a corollary of the second…all roads lead to Canterlot.”


You collapse on the floor of Coco Pommel's apartment as soon as she opens the door. This was an incredibly disappointing trip, although now you know that the answer to all your searches lay in Canterlot, and that the reach of whoever was trailing you extended even into Manehattan. You let out an exhausted groan.
Coco Pommel sits down next to you on the ground. “I know you didn’t get the results you were looking for, I’m sorry…”
You get up, albeit slowly. “It’s okay. Tomorrow is a new day,” you say with questionable confidence.
“Well, if it’s any consolation, I had so much fun tonight!” She chirps.
“…Really?” you ask.
She nods. “Mmhm. I usually don’t go to a lot of parties, but with the dancing and the talking and the music…I think I might start going to them. It was the happiest I’d been in weeks!” she envelops you in a hug. “Thank you for taking me with!”
“Aw, you’re welcome. Alright…I’m going to go to sleep,” you say, rolling on the couch in her living room. “It’s been a long day and there is a lot more traveling I need to do tomorrow.”
“Oh…well you’re not planning on sleeping there are you? You can take my bed and I’ll sleep there.”
“Phhh,” you dismiss. “Don’t give me the overly-gracious host routine, I’m fine right here.”
“No, I really insist!”
“So do I, Coco.”
“Well, I’m sleeping on this couch tonight whether you like it or not,” she says, finally a little more assertive now that she’s away from the environment of the party.
“Okay, go right ahead.”
There is an awkward pause that lasts about twenty seconds. With your eyes closed, you conjectured that she ceded defeat and had silently left the room.
Instead, a warm hoof is planted next to yours as she lays down parallel to you on the couch. You both face directly up at the ceiling in an awkward standoff, Coco struggling not to roll off onto the floor.
You roll your eyes and put a hoof around her, scooting toward the couch back to make room. And that’s how you fell asleep, both of you still in formal attire. 

> Octobuggy (Queen Chrysalis/Changelings)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sit alone on the Celestrack train from Manehattan to Ponyville. The rising sun streams in through the train window near you, causing you to crumple up the left side of your face, and your muzzle, in discomfort. The skyline of Manehattan peels away as the bright morning light reflects right off of the majestic glass buildings and directly into your vulnerable corneas.
Slowly panning your view over the area, you notice that you are the only one aboard the train car. This is mildly disconcerting, as you could have sworn that there were three or four other ponies in the car with you at the beginning of your ride. In fact, now that you think of it, there were very few ponies on the train at all, given that it was a weekday trip between two major cities.
Your eyes narrow in suspicion at your surroundings. Recent events have certainly taught you discretion, but even before then you had always been able to tell when things were too perfect to be right.
Slowly, with your eyes always scanning the car, you back into the car’s restroom and close the door.
You sigh in relief some moments later, washing and drying your face and hooves, having completely forgot about everything that actually was important. You open the door and come face to face with Queen Chrysalis and about 35 changelings that have occupied the car, awaiting your return.
“Hello, there,” Queen Chrysalis sneers with an evil grin.
You immediately throw your head back. “UGHHHHH” you groan. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” 
The intimidating changeling queen, jet black and perhaps a foot taller than you, appears confused for a moment before continuing her diabolical introduction. 
“If it isn’t the new Inquisitor of Princess Luna…” she begins.
At this point you have firmly placed your hoof at the spot on the bridge of your muzzle and between your eyes. You apply pressure, both to punish your own inadequacy and to stifle your growing headache. You slowly nod, as if to appease her ego and get the conversation over with as quickly as possible.
“My, then. We have such big plans for you.” Chrysalis lets out a hearty and evil laugh, and the wings of a few of her henchmen buzz in anticipation.
Your hoof drops off your face. “Let me guess: you plan to abduct me, replace me with a changeling, use my relationship with Princess Luna to gain strategic information, and then you’re going to invade Canterlot.”
Chrysalis lets out a dismissive puff of air. “Please, you ponies could never even APPROACH the intelligence needed to apprehend my nuanced plans!”
“Okay, let me try again,” you groan, this time a hoof flipping left and right in front of you to accentuate each step. “You’re going to abduct me, replace me with a changeling who will present a more handsome and charming version of me, make Luna fall in love with my changeling replacement, and THEN you’re going to use the changeling’s relationship with her to invade Canterlot.”
Silence reigns in the car for a few moments, the dull clicking of the wheels on the tracks the only sound heard.
“It doesn’t matter what our plans are, what matters is who we are!” Chrysalis cries, her horn glowing a ghostly green.
Just as it discharges, a poof of purplish pink smoke appears in the middle of the cabin, followed by the sound of magic reflecting off of a crystalline object. Another sound, this time a loud thud, follows a second after.
When the smoke clears, Queen Chrysalis is flayed immobile on the far side of the car, her horn and right hoof covered in green changeling biofilm and attached to the train’s luggage compartment. Only a foot in front of you lies the Obsidian Chestplate of the Inquisitor. A parchment pops into existence in front of your face. You grab it and begin to read:
Dear Inquisitor,
Applejack delivered this to me today. She said that you had inadvertently left this at her farm a few days ago. Your irresponsibility with royal equipment astounds me. Be more careful, especially with this! Do you know how much history is in this chest plate? I do, because I read an eight-volume set on the history of Equestrian Inquisitors! If Red Ragnar the Third can be bitten through the chest plate by a rampaging dragon and survive, then you can remember to pick it up before you leave!
Applejack also passive-aggressively criticized my rule against providing monetary assistance to friends, a line of thought I can only assume came from your head.
And if that’s not all, Spike has been even more googly-eyed over Rarity than usual lately. He can’t even transcribe letters for me! I HAD TO HOOF-WRITE THIS. Somehow, my mind is telling me that Spike’s attitude is somehow your fault too. 
I am the princess of friendship and so I have to try and be friends with anypony who doesn’t expressly try to destroy Equestria. That being said, I don’t have to like it. 
I may contact you at a later date, DEFINITELY NOT for your help in addressing needs related to platonic physical intimacy. If you talk to anypony about these letters or show them, I will have you tried for libel and imprisoned in a dungeon until such time as your senility makes you harmless to my reputation.
If you need my help on anything, please, hesitate to ask.
Princess Twilight Sparkle
	You look up from the letter at the stunned changelings, their struggling queen, and your chest plate. “Oh. Sweet.” You take a few steps toward Chrysalis and the Changeling horde. “Well, Queenie, looks like you and I stand at an impasse.”
She growls. “Impasse my flank! I have dozens of changelings that can easily capture you even without my magic!”
“Yeah,” you say sarcastically, “and that totally doesn’t give me time to escape to the next car, pull the emergency brake, set off the smoke detector, call the main conductor, or do any other of a dozen or so motions that will alert the entire train to your presence and lead to an elite royal guard squad being dropped on our position within twenty minutes.”
The changelings begin to slowly advance anyway. “At least you’ll be out of the picture then!” The stranded queen cries. 
Suddenly, you hear a loud rumble coming from the front changeling. The entire column of advancing bugs halts as this. The front changeling sheepishly drags its perforated hoof on the carpeted floor in front of him.
What was that noise? You look at the changelings again, and notice that they look, well, a little skinny. A few look downright malnourished, even. Actually, as you think about it, you realize that these changelings were so weak and slow that you could probably take them all on with only your hooves. 
You hesitate but ask anyway, “Are you…hungry?”
They look at you, but don’t advance any further. After a few seconds, they begin looking in all directions but directly at you.
“Awww…..” you let out, heart rent by the plight of these creatures. You step toward them.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” Chrysalis cries in anger. “GET HIM!”
You slowly approach the lead changeling and cautiously give it a hug. It waits for a moment before it slips a chitinous hoof around you too. A flash occurs and it turns into a cute young mare, who gives you a light nuzzle and steps back, smiling.
Another changeling approaches you and turns into an adorable colt. 
“It’s okay,” you say. “None of you have to transform.”
The colt hesitates before turning back into a changeling. You scratch his head.
“WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?” Chrysalis cries in confusion and disgust, as the rest meekly approach you.
After all of the changelings had enough loving affection to fill their tummies, you walked over to Chrysalis. “Oh no,” she growls. “Don’t you dare!”
You ignore her and snuggle her too, wrapping her in a big hug and nuzzling her neck. Trying your best to avoid her flailing hooves and the biofilm still gluing her to the train, you give her a tight squeeze before letting go. Chrysalis continues to protest and order her minions to seize you; you ignore her and turn your attention to the small horde of changelings in the car.
“So, why don’t you guys make sure you have enough to eat by just making sure you give each other lots of hugs and emotional support from now on?”
“We need pony love to eat in order to expand the hive’s population.” A voice from the back says.
“So you can’t eat changeling love at all?”
“Well, I suppose we can…” a different voice says.
The crowd is silent for a while. A few buzzes can be heard from wings that are readjusting.
“…So… have you considered maybe feeding on love from your changeling friends unless you really need pony love for another reason? You wouldn’t go hungry that way.”
“…That sounds like a pretty good idea actually,” says the lead changeling from earlier. The crowd buzzes in agreement. “We should tell the others back at the hive.”
“I bet ponies would even give you their love if you asked nicely,” you say. “No invasion or body replacement necess-“
“OH NO,” Chrysalis yells from behind you. “You’ve already turned them into sissies, don’t you dare take invading and body snatching from them too!”
You roll your eyes. “And what about you, fair queen?”
“I’m getting out of here. Guards!”
A few changelings begrudgingly traipse over and cut the film attaching her to the train fuselage. They begin to fly her out of the train skylight. The others murmur thanks and get last minute hugs before following. “You will be mine soon, Inquisitor!” Chrysalis cries as she flies out with her assault team.
You just sit back down in your seat, mentally exhausted. You decide to write a letter to Princess Luna updating her on your progress. As soon as it’s sent, you settle down for a nap.
You are awakened by a magical poof and a scroll falling directly on your face. You groan, and wake yourself up. By the time you have cleared your mind, you have already begun to read:
Dearest Friend,
We art, too, saddened by the wall you have hit in thine investigation. But fear not! We hath the utmost confidence in your abilities, and are most delighted to hear that thou shalt be returning to Canterlot, where thou shall be staying with us at the castle and required to be in snuggle or snuggle-derived contact with us for at least ten hours each day.
Excellent work in defeating the wench Chrysalis by exploiting the malnutrition of her soldiers! That is an excellent strategy that we used many a time lo those many years ago. Verily, there is no better way to break a siege than to promise the starving defenders cartloads of bread and vegetables if they art to deliver their king hogtied and bound to the foot of thy battle-throne! We shall make sure that the royal guard keepeth an eye out for Chrysalis and her agents, seeing as she again actively plotteth against Equestria.
Alas, her plan was doomed to failure from the start. No amount of charisma and handsomeness shall swoon us, for our heart’s affections are forever closely guarded. We art a strong, powerful Princess who needeth no stallion to be self-actualized, and perhaps will never desire the affections of another.
Also, thou shalt be accompanying us to a ball in two weeks held in the grounds of the royal castle. Thy Princess commandeth thou! 
We hath commissioned a custom made dress and art preparing for merriment. We art truly excited! Please prepare thine skills in ballroom dancing and light conversation. Formal attire, all important ponies attending. Thy date princess would also be most pleased with the presentation of a small flower to her before the event and will accept compliments to her appearance during thusly identified period.
We would also like to inform thou that we must unfortunately require thou to avoid all unnecessary contact with all mares until such time as you see us again. We knoweth not who is involved in this web of treachery.
With much friendly affection,
Thy companion Princess Luna of Equestria
P.S. We art not jealous.
You roll your eyes. At that time, the train’s speakers come on, alerting you that the train was approaching Ponyville. You will be rolling on by the town directly to Canterlot, a thought that makes you feel a twinge of guilt deep in your chest.
But as the train pulls into the station, you are met with several large, billowing columns of smoke coming from the town. You jump out of your seat as the doors open, cursing under your breath as you run out into the town to assess the problem.
Your chest plate is left on the floor of the train as the doors close and the train begins clicking up the ascent to Canterlot.

> The Huggable Daylights (Fluttershy)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	You run into town. You count at least five columns of smoke rising from the center of Ponyville, and you run to the one closest to you. As you round the corner, you realize to your horror that the house is Cloudchaser’s and Flitter’s. The twins are outside, covered in soot. Flitter is sitting on her snowy lawn bawling her eyes out, while Cloudchaser was flying about attempting to assist the small team of beleaguered fireponies as best as she could.
You began to head over to see how you could help when you noticed that the one of the other columns of smoke was coming right from your house. Pushing all worries about the twins out of your mind, you rush through town toward your home. On the way, you dart through the public square, and past the burning remains of Sugarcube Corner. You have to dodge, duck, dip, dive, and dodge your way through the giant cluster of ponies that have gathered in the public square to bemoan the loss of their favorite gathering place and stare at its charred frame.
You reach your house, finally. The fireponies have gotten to it before the fire spread out of control, and only smoke and superficial damage are present to betray the recent presence of fire. Relieved, you catch your breath, panting. 
After only about a minute, a local policepony trots up to you. “Sir, are you, uh, Princess Luna’s inquisitor?”
“Y..Yes,” You gasp out, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
“Sir, we got the arsonist. I was told to bring you to him.”


You stare through the one-way window into the police interview room. There he was; the same stallion that followed you around in the night just a few short days ago. 
You were going to tear him to pieces.
Just before you flung open the door to the interview room, Cloudchaser came running in with Flitter in tow. “Girls!” you cry, wrapping them both in a big hug. “I’m so glad that you’re both alright!”
They nuzzle you back. “Flitter has something she needs to tell you,” Cloudchaser prompted.
Flitter swallowed hard. “Th-that stallion… he’s the same one that robbed our house…and now he burnt it…” She fought valiantly to hold back tears. You were proud of her emotional strength. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the night we saw him but…I was too spooked.”
You rub your chin in thought. “The same pony? Well, then I know exactly how to play this. Thanks, Flitter.” With that, you buck open the door to the interview room.
The stallion inside seems unfazed.
You begin the interrogation. “So, you’re the firebug, huh? Funny, I remember seeing you follow me around town just a few days ago. You were watching my house too, if I recall.” You glare at the big-framed stallion across from you. 
He glowered back. “I told the police the same thing I’m gonna tell you- bite me. I ain’t saying a thing.”
You flash a dastardly smile. “Oh? Since you were following me, I’m sure you’re prepared to face the consequences of arson against the property of an inquisitor- which, Princess Twilight tells me, doubles any sentence laid down for the crime.”
The stallion shivered a little bit. It seems he bought your bluff; Princess Twilight probably would have told you to shove it had you asked for her help. Although, you were quite certain there was an odd layer of snuggly tension underneath all your unpleasant dealings with her.
“Don’t like that, huh? Prepared to serve seven years but not fourteen? Well, let’s pile on the two other arsons, endangering civilians, vandalism of farm equipment and, oh, right, I almost forgot: the assault of Flitter and Cloudchaser during your break-in. We could probably swing you on stalking charges as a result, and even push an attempted murder charge.”
The stallion smacks his lips as if his mouth has become a desert. A look of horror starts to sweep across his visage.
“So, altogether that’s…let’s see…” You pretend to do some math in your head, moving your hooves around gently as if to accentuate the process of mental calculation. “Oh…you may never get out of prison. That is, unless you tell me who hired you. Then we may be able to work out a plea bargain that gets you out in a few years.”
“You…You have no idea how high up this goes!” cried the stallion. “I’d be better off not telling you, and you’d be safer not knowing!”
You narrow your eyes. “Try me.”
The stallion sighs deeply. “…Okay.”


You stand on a makeshift platform in town square, flanked by two of Princess Luna’s night guards. You can hear a great deal of chatter from all of the ponies around, none of it good or constructive.
“Why are all of these buildings on fire!? We want an explanation!”
“Let’s burn down Town Hall, that’ll get them talking!”
“Sugarcube Corner is gone! It must have been farmers! Who else would burn down a bakery!? Round up all the farmers!”
At this point, you had had enough. “CITIZENS OF PONYVILLE,” you cry out, hoping that you had perfected the Royal Canterlot voice during your time with Luna. “BE SILENT.”
The noise slowly peters out until just about everypony in the square was silent and looking at the strange pony standing on a box next to two royal night guards. You clear your throat gently before continuing. “This is all part of an ongoing corruption investigation led by me, Princess Luna’s royal inquisitor.” You pause for a moment, impressed at how far your voice carries over the crowd without too much effort. “We have the suspect in custody and will be making further arrests tomorrow. DO NOT turn on your neighbors, as they are not involved. All is well. Please return to your homes and avoid any unnecessary movement this evening.”
A wave of calm seemed to wash through the audience. A few ponies exhaled. A mare that you recognized as one of the owners of the flower shop fainted. You knew you had solved the problem and maintained public order, and you were proud.
That is, you thought all of that until the shouting started up again.
“He’s in league with the farmers!”
“You shut your mouth before I come over there and shut it for you, baker scum!”
“He said they’re making more arrests! Arsonists are still on the loose! I don’t want to lose my home!”
You drag a hoof across your face as anger builds inside you. You release it in a crippling wave of demands. “YOU WILL ALL BE QUIET! IF I HEAR ABOT A SINGLE INSTANCE OF ROBBERY, VANDALISM OR INTIMIDATION TONIGHT, I WILL PERSONALLY THROW YOU IN PRISON AND ASK PRINCESS LUNA TO HAUNT YOUR DREAMS EVERY TIME YOU FALL ASLEEP!”
That seemed to shut them up.
“Of course, I don’t know if she’ll agree to that…she’s a sweetheart at her core. Still though, I BETTER NOT HEAR ABOUT ANY MORE CRIME HAPPENING TONIGHT, OR SO HELP ME.” The eyes of the ponies in the crowd were locked on you fearfully. “…Dismissed.”
Immediately, ninety percent of the crowd dispersed and headed toward their homes. A few stragglers remained, perhaps concerned with cleanup efforts or coordinating their safety. You trot off the stage and right into Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy. 
“Hello, girls. I need your help.”
“Anything you need us to do for Equestria, we’ve got it!” Rainbow Dash cried with jingoistic fervor. She swiftly swung a hoof through the air in a wicked uppercut.
“That’s what I like to hear. Rainbow Dash, you tag along with Night Vision and Penumbra here and make sure that not a single hair is out of place in Ponyville tonight. I’m particularly worried about revenge attacks, particularly those aimed at farmers; arrest anypony that even glances at you sideways.”
“Aww yeah!” Rainbow Dash was rubbing her hooves together and smiling as she hovered above you. “Do I have permission to rough them up?”
You nod, the adrenaline from the speech still coursing through your veins and impacting your decision-making. 
“Alright! Kicking flank with the night guard! Come on,” she motioned to the guards before speeding off. The two bat ponies desperately accelerated in an attempt to keep pace with her.
“What ‘bout you, sugarcube? Where are you goin’ to stay?” Applejack’s voice was filled with concern.
You pause at this. “Well, I’ll figure it out. I’m heading to Canterlot tomorrow to finish this…this whole thing. I can survive for a night.”
“Well, that won’t do at all, now! Ya’ll are gonna come stay with me at Sweet Apple Acres ‘till your house gets fixed up.”
“Well, AJ, that’s kinda what I needed from you. Can you house the victims in your barn until they can get back on their hooves? There are at least four families besides me without houses, not to mention Pinkie Pie.”
Applejack shuttered. “I ain’t never seen Pinkie Pie cry as hard in my life. Eventually got so tired a’ her blowing her muzzle into my coat that I just sent her to Twilight’s. Still, though, I can certainly house the rest for a little while.”
“Still,” you continue, placing a hoof under your chin, “I know that our corrupt criminal has agents tailing me all over Equestria. If I was to stay anywhere that I had been before, especially if that place were a farm, I’d be putting everypony in danger.”
“Oh,” Applejack said, a little disappointed that you thought it would be a bad idea to stay at Sweet Apple Acres. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. “Well, I have a solution for ya! Ya’ll can stay with Fluttershy at her cottage! Nice n’ secret and isolated an’ all that.”
Fluttershy let out a small, fearful squeak at this.
“Whaddya say, Fluttershy? Ready to be our secret agent a second time?” Applejack looked toward her friend.
Fluttershy was cowering down and trying not to look at you. “Um…I’m not so sure it’s a good idea, Applejack…”
You knew Fluttershy because you had heard about her exploits and had contact with her close friends often. Only once had you been to her cottage, and that was only to buy a pet to give as a gift. Still, you realized that you couldn’t even formally be called “friends”, and yet Applejack was pressuring her into helping you out.
“Applejack,” you begin, apprehensive about forcing Fluttershy’s hoof in the matter.
Applejack sticks out a hoof in your direction without removing her eyes from Fluttershy. “Hush, Sugarcube. Applejack’s got this.” She puts down her hoof and glares at Fluttershy. “Now why ain’t it a good idea!?”
Fluttershy shrinks back further, hiding behind her mane. “Well, um…its just…that…I’m really…” Fluttershy's voice trails off into whisper-like, unintelligible mumbling.
“Fluttershy, speak up. I ain’t got no time for this.”
“Scared,” Fluttershy chokes out.
“Of the inquisitor?” Applejack asks incredulously. “Just ‘cause of a little yellin’? Why, the inquisitor’s the sweetest pony I know! Meek as two newborn piglets in the July sun!”
“Well, I’m not sure that’s exactly a fair comparison…” you begin. “In fact-“
Applejack has already walked over to stand next to you. “Watch this, Fluttershy!” She takes her hoof and scratches behind your ear. “Who’s a good pony? Who’s a great friend?”
It did feel nice, but you had your dignity to keep. “Applejack, come on…”
She nuzzled your neck and gave you a super-tight hug. “Who’s just a little soft-hearted sugar bear, huh?”
You begin to melt under the cuddly onslaught. 
“Now roll over so Fluttershy can rub your belly.”
“A-Applejack, please, I’m embarrassed.” You blush, angry at her but too comfortable to push her away.
“Ain’t nopony around to see, sugarcube.” She began, looking into your eyes. Sternly, she continued, “now, roll over!”
You comply, flopping onto your back and grumbling. Applejack turns perpendicular to you and rests her head on your chest, reclining as she would against an apple tree in the field, crossing her back hooves. 
“See, Fluttershy? The inquisitor don’t mean you no harm. Just needs a hug sometimes!”
Fluttershy started to rub your tummy. “Wow, Applejack, you’re right! What a sweet, cuddly little pony! The inquisitor can stay with me tonight if it’s for the best.”
You cross your front hooves over your chest and start pouting.


Fluttershy brought out a steaming pot of chamomile tea from her kitchen on a platter, along with a small jar of honey and a cup of cream. Placing it on the table in front of you, she sits next to you on the couch. A roaring fire was going on in her fireplace; between the late hour and the winter, the evening was more brutally cold than it had been the last few days. Most of the rodents and birds living with her inside had begun to snuggle in for the night; even Angel had been put to bed by Fluttershy half an hour ago.
“So, um, is it true?” Fluttershy meekly asked.
You look away from the fire and towards her. “Is what true?”
“Are you and Applejack really, um, ‘Snuggle-Pardners’?”
You wince. “I’m not sure I would have replaced the word ‘buddies’ with ‘pardners’, but, uh, yeah, I guess we are.”
Fluttershy nodded. “Um…how is that? Snuggling, I mean.”
You smile. “Oh, snuggling is the best! It’s warm and super comfortable, and you feel protected and happy…that’s really the only way I can describe it. I think that Dashie called it-“
“Wait, Rainbow Dash? She snuggled somepony?” Fluttershy seemed a little startled.
You immediately through both hooves over your incessantly flapping face-hole. You were as good as dead; Rainbow Dash would probably bite your ears off and kick your flank until your cutie mark was composed only of different shades of purple. “Uuh, uuuuuhhh…”
Fluttershy’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. “Oh, YOU snuggled Rainbow Dash. Don’t worry, I won’t tell. I know how angry she gets when someone talks about her acting kindly or sweetly. We’ve been friends for so long that I don’t think she’ll ever be open to showing ponies her sensitive side.”
You let out a sigh of relief. “Please, please don’t tell anypony. Thank you so much.”
Fluttershy giggled demurely. “Did she really let you call her ‘Dashie’?”
“She didn’t like it at first, but eventually she stopped complaining.”
“Oh, my. That nickname is very special to her. The only pony that she lets call her that is her Dad. Well, her Dad and Pinkie Pie…But I think Pinkie Pie only can do it because Rainbow Dash gave up on getting her to stop.”
You smile a little. Did Rainbow Dash really feel you were important enough to her to let you use a nickname with such great personal importance? You’d have to pay her another snuggle visit after this mess was all over- maybe get her a nice set of Wonderbolts tickets too, for her and her Dad.
Fluttershy hesistates for a few long moments before meekly continuing. “I’ve only snuggled my animals before…Never with another pony.”
You’d been around the block a few times in these situations and knew where it was heading. “Do you want to snuggle right now?”
Fluttershy blushed deeply. “C-can we just do that?” She looked around the cottage and peered out of her front window, as if cuddling was a profoundly illegal act, or at least that it required great preparation.
“Yeah, you just sort of, um, do it, I guess,” you say, shrugging your shoulders.
Fluttershy appeared to shrink back, “Oh, maybe this isn’t a good idea,” she says, looking around frantically and drawing her hooves in toward her body. “I don’t know anything about this!”
“It’s alright, we don’t have to snuggle at all. It just seemed like you wanted to.”
“Oh, I do, but…I do.” Fluttershy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m going to be more assertive. I promised Rarity.” She opened her eyes and looked up at you. “How do we snuggle?”
“Well,” you began, “first off, sit right here,” you say, pointing at the spot right next to you on the couch. 
Fluttershy timidly scoots over next to you.
“A touch closer,” you say, rolling your eyes. She was sitting at least a foot away from you.
She moved so that you were almost touching. She looked like she was nearly trembling.
“Okay,” you say calmly. “Now, just relax.” You put a hoof around Fluttershy, causing her to squeak again and tense up. She relaxed after a moment. “There,” you said. “We’re snuggling.”
Fluttershy popped open an eye. “Really?” she asked hopefully.
You nod back and smile. “You can scoot in a little closer and hug me back if you’re feeling adventurous.”
“Oh, um, okay…” Fluttershy complies. “You’re right, it is very warm and comfortable.”
“That it is.” You had to temper your response, as Fluttershy was softer and cuddlier than anypony you had ever snuggled before. You went out of the way to be extra gentle, as if caring for a newborn rabbit or something, afraid that you would break her.
Another moment passed before a loud popping noise came from the fireplace, presumably from the splitting of wood. Fluttershy yelped and tensed up.
After a moment, she fell apart into a fit of mad giggles, causing you to laugh too. As she was giggling, she put her head on your chest, where she finished her giggle attack. When she was done, she looked up at you. “Um… is this okay? Am I doing it right or…did I mess up again…?”
“Yeah, this is perfect. You’re doing even a better job than before.”
“Oh, really?” Fluttershy placed her head back onto your chest and nuzzled you with the side of her face.
“I’m going to pour some of this lovely tea you made for me and pick up the blanket from the floor. Do you want some tea too?”
“Oh, yes please. Extra honey.”
Tomorrow you would confront the fiend that had plunged Equestria into chaos. For now though, you would rest up, snuggling with Fluttershy under a blanket next to a fire in a cozy, secluded cottage while drinking warm herbal tea. You couldn’t think of a better way to prepare.

> The Snuggle Conspiracy (DJ-PON3)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	You buck open the doors to the cavernous throne room as soon as day court begins. “STOP RIGHT THERE,” you cry, pointing a hoof toward the clump of ponies next to Celestia and Luna.
Luna regards you with interest and some pride, but Celestia is much less pleased by the interruption. She stood up, as if preparing for a battle. “What are you…Guards!”
Immediately, four guards dash toward you. You freeze, frantically flipping your head in every direction in an attempt to find a corridor of escape.
Thankfully, Luna has your back. “Stand down!” 
The guards freeze, not sure if Celestia’s orders or Luna’s orders take higher precedence. Eventually, Celestia’s uncompromising gaze causes them to continue their charge, but they halt again as a small group of night guards take up protective positions around you.
You don’t miss a beat. “I have evidence that a member of this very court has committed crimes against the state!”
The dynamic situation in the room suddenly falls into a deep freeze, as the ponies in the throne room processed the information and wondered how the whole situation would proceed. 
Luna broke the silence. “Let my inquisitor speak,” she coolly projected. “I would very much like to hear what he has to say.”
Marching straight to the middle of the room, you briefly bow to the Princesses. “Your highnesses,” you begin, “an agent of the conspiracy that has fermented discontent amongst food growers and processors has been captured in Ponyville. Under examination, he revealed the name of the pony who hired him to both sow disarray and disrupt my progress. This individual was hoping to use the violence and unrest in order to push for subsidies on the two industries, which would benefit his investments in both sectors. This pony is none other than the government’s treasurer… Quantitative Easing!”
Gasps echo from around the room. The accused stands and bangs his hooves on the railing in front of him. “Preposterous! This is scandalous and absurd, there is no proof!”
“Yes, absurd. The confession from your henchpony, the documents from you he provided to the investigation, your statements during recent court debates…all absurd. I suppose that if we were to find irregularities in the government’s accounting, they would simply be absurd as well, no?”
Quantitative Easing stands there, sputtering. 
An impassioned voice speaks out. “Quantitative Easing,” Celestia said as all eyes turned to her, “I was told that everything you were doing was to protect Equestria, and that nopony would ever see a cake again if we were to do anything else. It seems now that you were only padding your own pockets.”
“Princess, I-“
“Enough! You are under arrest for misuse of public funds, conspiracy to undermine the tetrarchy, and arson! Guards!”
Equestria’s finest were soon roughly escorting Equestria’s ex-treasurer out of the room.
“Court is adjourned,” Celestia announces. “An emergency session will be held this afternoon.”
The room erupts in chatter and gossip as ponies leave their places, some to exit and others to discuss the latest occurrence.
You trotted up to the Princesses. Luna hugs you violently. “Our servant hath rid the realm of that vile usurer! Verily, thou art the finest inquisitor we hath ever had!”
You pat Luna in an attempt to get her to let you go, which she does. 
Princess Celestia turns to you both, a pained expression on her face. “I am so very sorry for how I acted. I let my love of…certain goods cloud my judgment, and ended up giving far too much power to a corrupt pony. If that were not enough, I stood in opposition to both of you. I truly and deeply apologize for my actions.”
“It’s okay, Princess,” you respond. “I think I would have done the same. Now it’s time to focus on calming the tension and rebuilding the nation.”
Seeing her still despondent, you wrap her in a hug, which she returns, wings and all. Still hugging you, she shyly asks, “Inquisitor, how adverse would you be to becoming Equestria’s new treasurer?”
Princess Luna sees fit to answer for you. “Vile wench, do not tempt our subordinate with siren offers! He is ours!”
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The next day finds you safely at home in Ponyville, the damage to your home already mostly repaired. It being a Friday, you decide that it is high time to apologize to a very dear friend of yours.
“…And so I’m sorry. I ended up getting so caught up in cuddling with other ponies, then adventure, then ridding Equestria of corrupt and dangerous officials, that I forgot the reason that I started all this in the first place: to help you!”
The great DJ-P0N3 smiles at you, removing her sunglasses, and snuggles up to you on the couch. “Thanks so much,” she says, nuzzling your neck. “I didn’t want to be a bother and so I didn’t bring it up…But I’m really glad that I have somepony to hold and share my feelings with. It was a rough show tonight, and I’m just looking forward to a little peace and quiet.”
A blue explosion rocks the room, startling both you and your guest. Suddenly, Princess Luna is standing on your coffee table.
“Inquisitor!” she cries, “Thine Princess stands before you in dire need of platonic affection, and…” Luna stops talking, turning her frame toward DJ-P0N3. “And who art thou!? A wicked assassin, come to destroy our beloved and effective mid-level bureaucratic official!?”
“No, Luna,” you groan, “this is my guest, DJ-P0N3, who is currently taking up all of my ‘platonic affection’. I’m afraid that we will have to find another time, and…wait, did you say mid-level!?”
Luna, for her part, did not remove her gaze from DJ-P0N3 the entire time you were speaking. To DJ-P0N3’s credit, she didn’t whither under Luna’s gaze.
Luna delivered a brief but stern warning to your guest with her eyes narrowed. “We art watching thou, wench.” She turns to you and begins to pout. “But dear friend, we are most bored and are feeling like we needeth to hold somepony!”
“Luna, I promise I’ll come to Canterlot tomorrow, okay?”
She holds her muzzle high. “Fine,” she continues to pout, “but thine Princess is not joyous! We shall have much to discuss about the ball, and about thine new quest.” Luna’s horn begins to glow blue.
“Luna, wait, what do you mean new-“ It was too late, and Luna had teleported out of your home.
DJ-P0N3 exhales, awkwardly. “So…you’re gonna have to tell me what that was all about.”
You smile, tiredly. “Yeah, I’ll tell you all about my adventures over the past few weeks. But I’d like a moment just to relax, if you don’t mind.” You nuzzle her ear.
She gives you a tight hug. “Okay, sounds good.”
The snow falls outside your window, specks of light floating through the darkness and forming a thick, white blanket on the ground.
And between that blanket and your fuzzy pillow, you soon drift off to sleep.