At the gala, at the gala, they will haaaave theeee beeest night everrrrrr… right?
The Grand Galloping Gala.
For many ponies, this event promises to be the best night ever! Follow the stories of a collection of “couples” and how the dream night plays out. For some, there will be joy. For others, there will be disappointment. For you, dear readers, there will be laughs.
A comical collaboration project between Level Dasher and myself, spawned from the Random Shipfic Game (and took us way too long to complete). Takes place at the gala after “The One Where Pinkie Pie Knows” and before the end of season five, whenever that may have been (We started this YEARS ago—a bunch of the new canon altered the story a bit).
Tags simply marked as “Other” because there are too many to list. Cover Art by me Edited by Level Dasher, with some early help from Shahrazad.
Twilight Sparkle’s Worst Night Ever - Crystal Moose
Princess Twilight Sparkle fought the urge to scowl.
How dare she? Who does she think she is?
Tonight, she was greeting guests of the Grand Galloping Gala with Princess Celestia. Twilight glanced at the clock for the eighth time, sighing as she noted that a mere twenty-seven seconds had passed since she last checked. Greetings were a mind-numbingly boring job, one that none of the princesses enjoyed.
Princess Luna had gotten out of the greetings with a masterful application of a sound, tactical mind. The decision over who would greet the guests was decided by a needlessly impossible game of griffon-roshambo; Celestia and Twilight had predictably both thrown rock, whereas Luna lit up her horn and teleported elsewhere.
Princess Luna had not been seen for weeks. With only two short hours before the Gala, she reappeared in a resplendent gown of silver and sapphire-blues. Her gown would have been the envy of any mare.
Despite all this, Princess Luna, in all her beauty, was not the mare who drew Twilight Sparkle’s ire this eve. No, the mare who drew the princess’s wrath—no, not wrath, she had to remind herself… displeasure, yes, that was an emotion far more befitting a princess—the mare that drew her displeasure was a mare with a stupid light cerise coat, and a dumb cobalt blue bob with pale violet ribbons in her mane. She was wearing an indigo saddle trimmed with gold and pale violet frills covering her big, fat, dumb, stupid, fat, ugly, fat flank.
“Your Highnesses,” the stallion spoke, as the couple dropped into a bow.
Twilight looked over the handsome stallion. He was dressed in his smart, red mess-dress; the stripes and badges of his service to Equestria were proudly displayed. Flash Sentry was the very vision of stallion masculinity, despite any uncomfortable subconscious-but-still-morally-and-socially-acceptable-similarities he may or may not have bore to Twilight Sparkle’s very own B.B.B.F.F.
“Sergeant Sentry, it is good to see you again.” Celestia smiled as the couple rose from their bow. “And who is this accompanying you tonight?”
“Oh, my apologies, Your Majesties.” The pegasus turned to his partner. “This is Royal Ribbon, my fiancée.”
The corners of Twilight’s mouth trembled and her brow twitched as a frown threatened to overtake her face. She composed herself, channeling the Royal Dignity Reserves—a neat little trick Cadance had taught her, for situations where one could not be seen trying to calm oneself.
“A pleasure to meet you, Your Highnesses.” Royal Ribbon curtsied.
‘A pleasure to meet you, Your Highnesses,’ Twilight repeated in her head; each word dripped with annoyance and sarcasm, causing her to roll her mind’s eye.
“It was lovely to meet you. I hope the two of you have a wonderful evening.” Celestia smiled as the couple departed. Externally, Twilight smiled as well, though internally, she wondered if Celestia would notice a missing solar flare or two.
Twilight screamed internally as the happy pair walked away. Fury burned in her heart as the cerise-colored mare bumped flanks with Flash Sentry.
Four… no, five solar flares. No! A coronal mass ejection! Celestia won’t notice, I’m sure of it; I’ll just have to distract her with… with cake! Yes, that’s what Luna always does!
“Twilight, is something the matter?” Celestia asked the younger princess, concern etched across the older alicorn’s face.
Twilight had been muted during the greetings. At first, Celestia suspected her former student had simply grown bored; it was a tedious job, after all. Then she began to notice the subtle tics Twilight exhibited when she was under stress. Sure, Twilight had done well to keep the guests from noticing, but Celestia had played poker with beings so ancient, each hand could take over a decade to play. To her, Twilight displayed more tells than a foal playing go-fish.
“Nothing is the matter, Prin… I mean, Celestia.”
“You look like you need a break. Maybe we—”
“That’s a great idea, Princess. Thanks.”
Celestia watched in shock as Twilight trotted away.
“—could share a dance.” Celestia held in her sigh, and resumed greeting the guests.
“I must say, my dear,” Rarity commented, swirling her glass and allowing the red wine within to breathe, “I was quite insulted when you asked Pinkie Pie to handle the decorations for the Gala instead of me—” She looked around the room, disbelief plastered across her face. “—but I must admit, it’s quite tastefully done.”
Twilight nodded, but her eyes weren’t focused on her friend, and her responses were mechanical.
“I was expecting far more flamboyant decorations on display than what she’s done tonight. It seems our Pinkie Pie has far more depth than we give her credit for.” Rarity giggled. “Truthfully, I was expecting more streamers.”
“No! No streamers!” Pinkie Pie shuddered, having emerged from the depths of the not-entirely-pony-sized fondue pot. A chill ran down Pinkie’s spine as fear crept across her face. “Never streamers,” she whispered, as she sank back into the cheesy depths, disappearing from sight.
Twilight only half listened to Rarity as she rambled on about how her Canterlot boutique had gone from success to success because of the Gala. Twilight interrupted her friend as she spotted a certain orange pegasus crossing the dance floor, heading towards the punchbowl.
“I’m a little thirsty, Rarity. Did you want anything?”
“Oh… no, thank you. I am perfectly fine. I’m still going with this wine.” Rarity paused, then let out a slight titter. “Oh, I almost sounded like Zecora for a moment.”
Twilight laughed politely, then made her way towards the punchbowl.
Have to time this… just… right.
“Oh, Flash Sentry,” Twilight laughed nervously, as she ‘accidentally’ collided with him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there; we've got to stop bumping into each other like this.” The two shared a laugh.
“Very sorry, Princess. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going.”
“Well, at least I didn’t spill my milkshake on you this time,” Twilight giggled, looking away as a pink tinge came to her cheeks.
“Your… milkshake?” Flash Sentry asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, ummm, sorry,” Twilight stuttered nervously. Ugh! That’s right! That happened to the other Flash Sentry. “I must have been thinking of somepony else.”
“Well, it was good seeing you again, Your Highness,” Flash said, dipping his head in a polite bow, “but I really must be getting back to my fiancée.”
“Oh, yes! Your fiancée.” Twilight struggled to keep her eye from twitching. “Cadance never told me you were getting married.
“…C-congratulations,” she forced herself to add.
“Oh, ummm, thank you,” Flash replied, a confused look on his face. “Though, I’m just a soldier; I don’t know why Her Majesty would concern herself, or you, with the goings-on of a lowly guard like me.”
“Oh,” Twilight gulped, nervously trying to think of some way to get out of the hole she was digging for herself. “M-my sister-in-law cares very much for the guards who serve her. A-And my brother, ummm, my brother has mentioned you a few times.”
Flash Sentry brightened significantly. “Wow, that’s wonderful to hear, Your Highness. I didn’t know Princess Mi Amore Cadenza or Prince Shining Armor even knew who I was.”
“Flashy, what is taking so…” Royal Ribbon stopped next to her husband-to-be, silenced by the presence of royalty. “O-oh, Your Majesty, I apologise for my impertinence. I did not know my Flashy was talking to a princess.”
Twilight ground her teeth at this trampy little upstart with her stupid mane calling Flash Sentry… ‘Flashy’. It was an endearingly cute nickname, and one that only she should be allowed to call the stallion.
“Oh, it’s okay.” Twilight smiled. “Flash Sentry and I go way back.”
“You do?” the mare asked.
“We do?” Flash responded.
“Yes, when we… Sunset Shimmer. Oh, ummm…” Stupid Sparkle! That wasn’t him!
“The incident with the crown?” Flash Sentry asked, comprehension dawning on his face. “Oh, yeah, I guess that was where I first met you— I suppose that counts as way back.” He chuckled. Turning to his fiancée, he explained, “A few years back, Princess Twilight came to the Crystal Empire for the Princess Summit. I wasn’t involved in the investigation, but the Captain of the Crystal Guard told us that an intruder had broken in and stolen the Princess’s Crown. That was an embarrassing day for the guard, I’ll tell you that. Princess Twilight had to retrieve the crown herself. Next time I saw the Princess, she had it back.
“And she’s been really nice to me ever since,” Flash added.
“Really?” Royal Ribbon asked, narrowing her eyes towards the princess.
“Oh, absolutely. She comes to the guard barracks every time she visits, to say hello to all of us guards.” He smiled, oblivious to the war of glares shared between the two mares. “Frightfully good of her, considering the impression we must have made when she first met us.”
“Evidently, you left a great impression,” the mare added sarcastically. “Please excuse us, Princess. My fiancé and I are about to go dancing.”
“We are? Oh, okay.” Flash Sentry followed his partner back to the dance floor. He called back over his shoulder, “Lovely to see you again, Princess!”
How dare he dance with her. He promised me that dance… kind of. Well, one of him promised me a dance; that should count, right?
“Oh, Flash. Hi again.” Twilight smiled.
“Hey again, Princess,” Flash Sentry laughed.
“Excuse us!” Royal Ribbon pulled her fiancé back to the buffet.
“Oh, your saddle is just darling,” Rarity swooned. “You simply must tell me who your designer is. I’m a bit of a designer myself,” she added modestly.
Royal Ribbon looked at her saddle. It was rather old, not really the sort of thing a mare of fashion would comment on, really. She’d worn it to the last few Galas, since she didn’t have the money to spare on a new one each year, unlike other ponies.
“R-Really?” she asked. “It’s actually rather old.”
Standing next to the beautiful mare, whose own gala gown was immaculate—with its exquisite soft silks and tastefully done jewelry—she had trouble believing the compliment. Maybe this mare understood that one didn’t have to dress ostentatiously to look stunning. It was perhaps a plausible reason why she commented on Royal Ribbon’s plain-by-comparison outfit.
She looked back over her ensemble. No, that can’t be it.
“Why, my friend was commenting on how delightful it was, and she…” Rarity turned around. “Oh, she was here a minute ago. Oh, there she is.”
Royal Ribbon looked in the direction the mare was facing. A scowl crossed her face as she left the confused designer and stalked towards Twilight, who was talking to her Flashy.
“You!”
Royal Ribbon staggered backwards as a pink mare jumped out from behind a potted plant, pointing a hoof directly at her.
“Y-yes?”
“She told me you brought streamers!”
Royal Ribbon gasped as the mare grabbed her, dragging her back towards the potted plant from whence she came.
Royal Ribbon dusted herself off. Her saddle was scratched and stained, the frilling tattered and torn.
She had no idea where the crazed pony had dragged her. All she knew was that it was dark, scary, and she had to climb out of the mirror in the public restrooms of the castle, scaring five stallions as she crawled out, her mane limp and dishevelled. One of the stallions screamed something about how he should never have watched that damned tape.
Re-entering the ballroom, she found her faithful husband-to-be dancing with the harlot-queen, the usurper-of-happiness, the ruiner of nights… Princess… Twilight… Sparkle!
She crossed the room, ignoring the stares of disgust from the noble-ponies around her. They parted like the sea in the tale where Mareses led the earth ponies from out of the Badlands.
“Oh! Hey, honey!” Flash Sentry smiled as his fiancée approached. His smile faltered as she got closer, and he could see the state she was in.
“Be a dear, Flashy. Would you go get me a drink?”
“Uhh, sure.”
Both the Princess and Royal Ribbon watched Flash Sentry leave, the crowd closing in behind him.
“We need to talk…” Royal Ribbon snarled at the princess. “But I would prefer to take this somewhere private.”
Twilight stood on the balcony—looking amazing, if she asked herself—in her regal attire.
The mare next to her looked like she had just crawled out of a sewer.
“Now listen here, you little upstart!” Royal Ribbon spat.
“You can’t talk to me like th—”
“I damned well can!” Royal Ribbon snarled. “You might be Princess, but that doesn’t mean you automatically get everything you want. Stay away from my fiancé, you b—”
Whatever Royal Ribbon was about to say was cut short, as the aura of magic faded from Twilight’s horn.
Oh no! What have I done? Twilight thought. Maybe I went too far? What will the other princesses say?
Twilight paced nervously across the marbled floor of the balcony. A flash of light startled her from her thoughts, as Luna stepped towards the smaller princess.
“Twilight, We are very busy tonight, but We must ask…” Luna looked up to the beautiful moonlit night. “Why is there a mare on Our moon cussing thee?”
Spitfire was right to suggest Guard training—I’ll be flying past Rainbow Dash in my own Wonderbolts uniform in no time! To top it off, I’m at the Grand Galloping Gala! I mean sure, I’m on duty—but at least I’m here!
Lightning Dust’s head was spinning. She knew that the Wonderbolt Academy would do her wonders, but she never thought it would lead to all of this. When it was suggested that military training would help with her disciplinary issues, she had to agree, albeit reluctantly.
Especially given that tornado incident…
Never in her dreams did she imagine that all that trouble would somehow lead her to the Grand Galloping Gala… with him…
Well, she wasn’t with him per se, but she was here because of him. That had to count for something, right?
No! Get those thoughts out of your head—he’s married. To a princess! And with a foal on the way! What makes you think you’ve even got a chance? Besides, considering his honor as Captain of the Guard, he’d never have a fling.
But dayum, he looks so fiiiiiiiine in that outfit…
Prince Shining Armor was making his rounds, ensuring that all of his troops were in position and ready, just in case something unexpected should occur. His whole company appeared to be properly placed, alert and at attention.
All except one.
Shining Armor approached the glassy-eyed pegasus. “Cadet Dust!”
The mare instantly snapped into a salute. “Sir yes sir!”
“Even if your transfer is temporary, you are being treated as an official member of the Crystal Guard; I expect you to act with the same professionalism I would expect from any of my soldiers. So stand at attention—you are on duty!”
“Yes sir! Sorry sir!”
The prince placed a hoof on her shoulder and lowered his voice. “Listen, Lightning Dust… I'm helping you as a favor to Spitfire. She sees real potential in you—some proper discipline will do you good. You’ve progressed nicely under my training, and you’re just about finished, but this is no drill. Think of this as your final exam. You need to be on your guard, got it? No daydreaming. Celestia forbid we have another attempted invasion like we did at my wedding, I want to be prepared.”
“Y-yes sir! Apologies sir!”
“Very good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think my sister is in a state of distress… again…”
He touched me! He actually touched me!
Lightning Dust sighed, allowing her eyes to follow Shining Armor as he continued his rounds.
I don’t care who he’s married to… I may never be this close to Shining Armor again. Even if they throw me in the dungeon, I’m getting a piece of that stallion before this night is over! Just as she finished the thought, another passed through her mind. But I’m on duty! I can’t leave my post, not after what he just said to me! Damn it! I’ll just have to figure out some other way…
As the night progressed, Lightning Dust grew more and more impatient over the thought of her captain’s hooves tracing down her barrel. She managed to keep alert—and her wings down—but every now and then she would slip back into her fantasies for a few moments. After what seemed like forever, she saw Shining Armor exit into the castle garden.
This was the cadet’s chance; she made a brief once-over of the vicinity. She accosted a mare wearing a gown of multi-colored woven streamers conveniently coming out of the restroom, placing the mare in her own guard position.
“Stay there and hold this. I’ll be back soon. Thanks,” Lightning Dust called as she galloped toward the garden after her target, leaving the bewildered gala guest holding a spear.
As Lightning Dust made her way to the entrance of the garden, the voice of some hysterical mare echoed behind her. “STREAMERS! I SAID NO STREAMERS!” Though she thought she had heard the sound of a spear clanging to the floor, Lightning Dust paid none of it any mind.
My stallion awaits!
Lightning Dust located her captain in the garden in a matter of minutes. He was alone; it was the perfect opportunity.
“Captain?”
Shining Armor spun toward the sound, frowning as he discovered its source. “Cadet Dust! What did I just finish talking to you about earlier? Why are you away from—”
“Somepony reliable is covering for me, sir.”
“Who in Equestria—”
“I’m sorry, sir. I just needed to, uhh, speak with you.”
Though he was not keen on being interrupted, Shining Armor sighed. “Very well. What’s the issue, Cadet? Speak quickly—you need to be back at your post immediately. You’re on thin ice here.”
“Understood, sir.”
As the pegasus approached her captain, she tried to think of the right words that might cause the stallion to lower his guard, if only for a moment.
“I wanted to thank you, Captain Armor. I thought that I knew everything I needed to know about becoming a Wonderbolt when I was accepted to the Academy…” She continued her approach. “When Spitfire told me I lacked discipline, I didn’t want to listen, but training under you has proved her right. It has been an honor and a privilege, and it’s helped me so much. I know I must have been trouble for you, so I wanted to really thank you.”
Shining Armor shook his head. “Couldn’t this have waited until after the Gala, Cadet?”
It’s not working. I’ll just have to go for it, Lightning Dust thought to herself. “No, Captain. I had to do this now. It might be my only chance.” Her steady trot brought her into her captain’s personal space.
“Cadet, what are you—”
Lightning Dust then began her own invasion, but not the kind that her captain was prepared for.
Princess Twilight Sparkle stood on the castle balcony, breathing deeply. Princess Luna had tired of listening to the younger alicorn’s rant, and returned to the dance floor. Now that the offending mare was out of her mane—and in lunar orbit—Twilight attempted to compose herself before going back inside. She had a date to attend with the handsome—and now terrestrially unattached—Flash Sentry.
As Twilight leaned on the balcony railing, she closed her eyes and let out a long, deep sigh of satisfaction. When she opened them again, she looked down into the garden. A light green pegasus in uniform and a blue-haired stallion adorned in medals appeared to be locking lips. Rage filled Twilight's eyes once again. However, the dreaded thought of another mare attempting to steal her beau was dismissed when a second glance at the stallion in question revealed him to be a white unicorn, not her beloved orange pegasus. Twilight smiled at the thought of kindling love at the gala. Oh, how jealous Rarity would be!
Twilight watched the pair for a moment; the unicorn appeared to be struggling with who Twilight assumed was a mare—though after a few international faux pas, she had learned never to make assumptions. Feeling it would be a bit strange to spy, she turned and began heading back inside. Young love—it was the very thing her sister-in-law loved to see. The thought caused Twilight to do a double-take. White unicorn? Blue hair? Medals? Twilight rushed back to the railing, and her jaw dropped before she took in another deep breath.
“CAAAAADAAAAAAAAAAAANNCE!”
As Princess Cadance stepped out of the powder room for the fourth time this hour alone—she’d be so very glad when this foal was out of her!—she heard a voice screaming her name through the open window. Though it was not uncommon for mares to scream her name in the throes of passion, it sounded a tad different from the usual exclamation.
Recognizing the voice, Cadance focused energy to her horn, concentrated on an image of Twilight in her mind, and teleported immediately to the balcony. Facing the door and finding nothing, she whipped around and saw the distressed mare leaning over the railing.
“Twilight! What’s the matter? Are you alright?” she asked, waddling to her sister-in-law’s side.
Twilight stood there, bug-eyed, her teeth clenched so tightly they were grinding the enamel to dust. Her outstretched hoof pointed towards the garden, where Cadance spied a familiar-looking figure locking lips with a pegasus in uniform.
“Is that my husband?” Cadance asked, with what Twilight assumed was shock. The younger alicorn nodded her head slowly, expecting a terrifying outburst from her former foalsitter. Instead, Cadance’s expression softened and she let out a small “awww.”
“What do you mean, ‘awww’?” Twilight cried as she snapped her head toward her fellow princess. “He shouldn’t be doing that with another mare!”
“Naaah, it’s fine. I mean, she is kinda cute… I just can’t believe Shiney didn’t invite me to the party! I guess I’ll have to fix that.” Cadance beat her wings and slowly descended from the balcony toward the garden. “Don’t wait up for us!”
Twilight’s jaw dropped to the floor before she fell backwards onto her rump.
Oblivious to the shout above due to the sudden attack, Shining Armor continued flailing his hooves. He tried to say something, but the cadet’s grip was strong enough to keep them from separating.
After a couple of seconds, Lightning Dust released her hold on the captain and slowly opened her eyes as he fell to the ground. Neither the satisfied mare nor the appalled captain noticed the approaching shadow.
“Oh, that was just as good as I thought it’d be…” Lightning Dust sighed. “Can we do it again before I go back to my post?”
Shining Armor’s eyes went wide. “Cadet Dust! What in Celestia’s name is wrong with you? You know full well that I am happily married—with a foal on the way, mind you—and would never do… that!”
“Awww, why not?”
Cadet and captain both gasped, stepping away from each other as Princess Cadance descended from above, landing snugly between them.
“C-C-Cadance!” Shining Armor stammered. “I-I-I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen! I had no intention of—”
“And I repeat: why not?” Cadance stared into Shining Armor’s eyes and grinned. “Your cadet is obviously looking for some action. Why don’t we give her some?” Cadance’s grin transformed into a smirk as she cocked a brow at her husband, whose jaw dropped to the ground. Cadance turned around to address the pegasus. “What’s your name, Cadet?”
“Luh… luh-luh-luh… Lightning D-D-Dust, Y-Y-Your Highness.” Her expression mirrored that of her captain.
“Ahh, yes. I heard about you—special request from the Wonderbolts. Quite a long trip you made for it, too. So, you’ve taken a shine to my husband? What have you got to say for yourself?” Princess Cadance showed no sign of sternness or irritation, which confused Lightning Dust greatly.
“I… uhh… I’m going to go back to my post,” Lightning Dust said as she quickly turned around to go to the garden’s exit. Unfortunately for her, Princess Cadance teleported in front of her before she could get out.
“Just a moment, Cadet. Didn’t you want another go at your captain?”
Lightning Dust’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. The gears in her head seized; this was not what she expected from the Crystal Princess. When the gears started up again, the pegasus allowed the princess’s words to sink in. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, but first she had to make sure she wasn’t misinterpreting anything.
“You… you don’t mind, Your Highness?” Lightning Dust asked with hesitation.
“Hey, if he’s good enough to gain my affections, I would have been appalled if my husband didn’t draw eyes from other mares,” Cadance responded with a shrug. “How could I call myself the Princess of Love if I withheld that very thing from my subjects?”
“You’d really be okay with me… and your husband—”
“You’d just need to be willing to give that tongue of yours a workout at the same time,” Cadance purred as she slid a hoof along Lightning Dust’s cheek.
“B-but Princess, in your condition—”
“You wouldn’t believe how horny being pregnant has made me…”
“Don’t I get a say in this?” Shining Armor called from a few feet away, still lying on the ground.
“Well, I can take the pretty little pegasus all by myself, and leave you to guard—”
“Objection withdrawn, ma’am,” Shining Armor replied, with a smirk.
Lightning Dust’s eyes glazed over. “So, what you’re asking me, P-Princess… you’re suggesting that we have a thr—”
“Give the mare a prize!” Cadance smiled and turned to her husband. “Hey, Shiny, Spitfire sent you a good one!” Turning back to Lightning Dust, she asked, “So, Cadet Dust, are you in? You’d make your captain and the Crystal Princess quite happy.” Cadance smirked and raised her brows.
“I… uh… well…”
Twilight’s eyes bulged as she fell over the balcony railing, interrupting her sound amplification spell. Her scream was caught in her throat as Cadance’s suggestion filled Twilight’s mind with horrors ripped straight from Discord’s most fevered dreams.
Thankfully, her fall was broken by a handsome pegasus with a blue mane. Turning over to identify her savior, Twilight began twirling her mane with a hoof. “Heh heh, we really need to stop falling—er, running into each other like this,” Twilight said with an embarrassed giggle.
It was the most amazing incredible tremendous super-fun wonderful terrifically humongous news Pinkie Pie had ever received.
So of course she had to throw a party to celebrate. And it had been a particularly wild bash, with nearly everypony from Ponyville crammed in the front of the Cakes’ bakery, even spilling out into the street when the bakery filled, at the suggestion of a highly inebriated Mayor Mare.
Banners hung between every rafter. Balloons were tied to every surface. Hastily erected tables and marquees were set up outside to cater for the overflow. A dance floor—that had inexplicably appeared from nowhere—was filled with ponies (and one draconequus) dancing to the beats of DJ-P0n3.
And the streamers. Everywhere. Everywhere!
It was the most amazing “Hooray Twilight Asked Me To Plan The Grand Galloping Gala” party she had ever hosted. Ever!
Everypony had already left, heading towards their respective beds (or in some cases, to somepony else’s bed, after a night of drinking and frivolity). Her best friends had stayed behind to help clean up the streets, something Mayor Mare had made a proviso if Pinkie Pie was to use the public space for her bash. Although considering how much the Mayor had drunk that night, one had to wonder if she would be in any condition to protest anyway.
Pinkie was certain that Big Mac would tell her all about it tomorrow… or Derpy would, depending on if she came for her morning muffins before the farmer delivered the day’s apples.
Pinkie Pie had finished clearing away the decorations and party sundries that had accumulated in the street when the party spilled outside. She only had to clear away the inside of the bakery, then she could finally get to bed.
“D-did you need a hoof?”
Pinkie Pie jumped, gasping at a voice in the dark.
“O-oh… Hi, Shoeshine!” Pinkie responded with cheer. “I thought you left already.”
“N-no, I wanted to see if you needed any help,” the light blue earth pony replied, shaking her head.
“Awww, that’s so nice!” Pinkie Pie giggled. “I don’t normally have guests staying back to help with the clean-up.”
“I… I just like it when you invite me to your parties. It’s nice, sometimes I just feel like I’m part of the background,” Shoeshine admitted, a blush creeping up her face. “So, yeah… I just want to be able to show my thanks.”
“Awww!” Pinkie Pie darted across the room, pulling Shoeshine into a hug. “No pony should ever feel like they’re just a background pony. You’re always special to somepony, and you’re special to me! But then everypony is special to me except for donkeys who aren’t ponies but they are special to me still oh and zebras like Zecora and maybe griffins but then I’ve only ever met one griffin, and she was…”
Shoeshine blushed. Pinkie said she was special. Of course, Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie, she had rambled on about some nonsense, but Shoeshine didn’t care. Pinkie Pie was talking to her. And… hugging her.
It was… nice.
At least, it was, until Shoeshine felt something pull on the edge of her mane. She let her gaze move from Pinkie Pie by looking down to find the source of the irritation.
Pinkie Pie’s hoof, still around Shoeshine’s neck, was perhaps the most cracked, chipped, poorly maintained hoof she had ever seen. She gasped loudly.
“I know, right? I was saying to Rainbow Dash…”
Thankful that Pinkie Pie did not recognise the true reason she had gasped, Shoeshine breathed a sigh of relief.
It was her special talent, the care and maintenance of a well-groomed hoof. She was not one for fancy hooficures, like those hoity-toity spa twins. No! Hers were the ministrations of the working-class hoof. Stallions and mares of a more practical nature would visit her little stall, where she would file down any cracks or chips. She would carefully scrape clean any dirt caught in cracks, or gathered about the frog. And she was handy with a hammer, should anypony be in need of a good farrier.
Never, in all of her long years working with hooves—the hooves of farmers, quarry workers, travelling merchants, and other ponies who worked constantly on their hooves—had she seen a specimen so desperately in need of maintenance. Of a good filing. Cleaning.
It was almost… obscene.
Shoeshine couldn’t help but glance at Pinkie’s other forehoof.
She held her breath. It was worse.
It was so very… very… dirty.
“And so I said, oatmeal are you cra… wait, I already used that one.”
“So…” Shoeshine squeaked. “Sh-shall we get started?”
“Okie dokie lokie!”
Pinkie Pie removed her forearm from around Shoeshine’s neck, and placed it back on the ground. It landed on a small streamer of crêpe paper. It made the most satisfying crunch sound underhoof, and Shoeshine felt a cool shudder travel up the length of her spine.
True to her word, Shoeshine helped the party pony with her clean-up. They had started by pulling the streamers down from wherever they hung, a difficult process given that the two of them were earth ponies. How Pinkie Pie had hung them without the use of magic was beyond her, but that just added to the enigma that was Pinkie Pie.
Shoeshine desperately tried to ignore it, but every hooffall was echoed with that delightfully pleasant sounding crunch.
Every crushed crêpe corpse crunched under keratin echoed throughout the room, causing her to bite her lower lip.
The crêpe paper deserved it. It was dirty, disgusting detritus, and she was desperate to see the debris’ deserved destruction.
And that such dirty hooves were the ones meting out said punishment felt right.
Celestia, is it just me or is getting warm in here? Shoeshine thought to herself.
“D-d-did you want a hoof with the balloons?” Shoeshine stammered, desperately trying to keep her mind from the strange places it was going.
“Sure! That would be superific!”
Sure, it might have made more sense for them to clean the streamers off the ground before moving onto the balloons, but Pinkie Pie was the master of nonsense. Well, except for Discord—but she only ever saw him around Ponyville on days ending with ‘Y’.
Pinkie pulled a suitcase out from underneath a table. “I’ll deflate the balloons, and you can fold them,” she said.
Shoeshine went wide-eyed. Pinkie actually recycled her balloons? Though it made sense, given the number of parties that Pinkie threw, that the mare would learn to be a little more frugal. And it might have explained the few balloons sporting the words “Happy Birthday Twilight Sparkle” that were dotted around the room.
They worked in tandem, Pinkie Pie bouncing up and snatching a balloon between her teeth, untying and deflating the balloons before landing again, while Shoeshine folded the balloons and stuffed them in the suitcase. Every bounce brought with it ribbon-wrecking retaliation.
“Oooo, are we having a breathing contest?” Pinkie Pie asked. She huffed air in and out, faster and faster as she continued her bouncing motion. Impressively, Pinkie’s speed in grabbing and deflating balloons matched the heightened tempo of her own breathing.
Crunch crunch crunch.
The sound was exquisite! It was a symphony to Shoeshine’s ears… like a warm breath on the nape of her neck, or a delicate hoof tracing up her spine. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the music stopped.
“All done!” Pinkie Pie called out, as she deflated the last balloon. She turned back to look at Shoeshine, finding the mare covered with unfolded balloons, a look of frustration on her face. Pinkie Pie pawed at the ground pensively. “I’m sorry, was I not supposed to win?”
Shoeshine had done everything she could to delay it, but it was finally time to end it. What she would give to have this night go on forever. But it couldn’t. They both had to work the next day, and already she was feeling exhausted. Frustrated beyond understanding, but very, very exhausted.
“You take that side of the room, and I’ll take this side,” Pinkie Pie called out, tossing a broom towards Shoeshine. “Sweep the streamers into the middle, and we can put them in the bag.”
A trash bag sat in the center of the room. The final humiliation for those disgusting streamers. It was right that they should be discarded so callously… but not yet. She didn’t want to see them disposed of…
Not yet.
Pinkie Pie was slowing down, something that Shoeshine had never thought possible, but it was two-thirty in the morning, and even sugar-fueled party dynamos had to sleep, she guessed. The party mare slowly swept the ribbons from her side of the room towards the center. Strangely, though… every time she turned her back, the section she had completed was covered with streamers again. Maybe she was just getting tired, sleepier than she had thought. Shoeshine had already finished her side of the room, and was panting heavily; she’d obviously worked hard to make sure her side of the room was done. That made Pinkie Pie smile. Shoeshine was so nice.
Crunch crunch crunch.
Pinkie looked behind her. The section she had just finished—she was certain she had just finished—was covered again. “Hmmm,” Pinkie hummed as she examined her broom. “There must be holes in this, because it keeps leaving streamers behind.”
Shoeshine coughed, then gave a strangled chuckle.
“O~~~~~~~r,” Pinkie said, drawing out the ‘r’, “maybe it’s the streamers.” She lowered herself to eye-level with the streamers.
“I’m onto you, buddy!” She growled, poking the streamer with a hoof. It crunched at her, practically admitting its guilt. Behind her, Shoeshine let out a soft whimper. Pinkie Pie diligently swept the remaining streamers, working backwards so that she wouldn’t turn her back on the traitorous crêpe.
Soon, the two of them had managed to wrangle them into the bag. “There!” Pinkie yawned. “All done.” The garbage bag was overflowing with streamers. All Pinkie had to do was throw them in the trash and see Shoeshine off, then she could jump straight into bed. She was looking forward to its warm, cozy, fluffy-wuffy, snuggly softness.
That had to be the craziest party rule Pinkie had ever heard, and she had heard them all. She had even invented a few of them. But Shoeshine was right. Mr Cake didn’t like it when Pinkie filled his trash cans with her party leftovers. So she jumped high into the air, diving into the bag of streamers, crushing and crunching them as flat as she could make them. Pinkie noticed Shoeshine yelping a little, and slowed, not wanting to frighten her friend.
A thought occurred to Pinkie as she brought the final hoof down: it might not have been the streamers who were being trixie-wixie after all.
The silence of the night air was shattered by a moan loud enough to rival the Royal Canterlot Big-O. Mayor Mare shot up from her sleeping position.
“What in Equestria was that?” she asked the once again quiet night.
“That,” a deep rumbling voice beside her said, “is th’ sound of a mare well-pleased. Ah remember hearin’ a few o’ them earlier mahself…”
A wing draped itself across the mayor’s back, and the long mane drifted before her nose. It smelled of baked goods and blueberries. Warm breath tickled her neck as a mare nuzzled her neck. “I thought you were all tuckered out. Do we have to help you to sleep again?”
Mayor Mare chuckled, and laid back down, sandwiched between the large earth pony stallion, and his petite pegasus marefriend. She let out a yawn, and allowed herself to go back to sleep.
“Good night, my little love muffins,” the pegasus whispered, before they all drifted back to sleep.
After a lovely romp in the garden with the animals, Fluttershy trotted happily into the main hall, her dress completely spotless. After the unfortunate incident at her first gala, she didn’t think she would ever gain their trust. However, Fluttershy being Fluttershy, she managed quite nicely. Her apology was polite and genuine, and the animals were certainly convinced. This year, Fluttershy barely needed to ask the critters to help her clean her dress before re-presenting herself to the other gala guests. They practically did it by instinct.
As she nervously meandered through the throng of ponies, trying to find someplace a little quieter, she thought to herself, Oh, why didn’t I just stay in the garden? I don’t like these big, fancy parties. I’ve never been good with crowds…
In her quest to find someplace a little more out of the way, she spotted a familiar pair of ponies behind a large table. They had been specially invited by Princess Celestia herself, as per her indulgences (but nopony was supposed to know about that). The pair rushed back and forth from one end of the table to the other, trying to satisfy each guest. They were clearly flustered, and in need of assistance. Finding an opportunity, Fluttershy made her way through a cluster of ponies and managed to find herself a spot behind the table.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Cake! You seem to be quite a hit tonight!”
Mrs. Cake turned her head for a split second to see the mare in the beautiful green dress. “Oh hello, Fluttershy! Yes, we are! We’re in a bit over our heads, though. Thank goodness we aren’t volunteering our time…” She grabbed a slice of pie and presented it to a stallion wearing purple aviator sunglasses. “I don’t know where in Equestria Pinkie ran off to; she was supposed to be helping us, but she’s been back and forth from the table so many times, she’s barely done anything at all.” Mrs. Cake turned to a rather disheveled mare with a pink coat and said, “Sorry, Miss—here you are!” as she gave her a cupcake.
The mare asked, “Have you seen my fiancé, by any chance?”
Mrs. Cake responded, “Sorry, dear. I can barely see my own hoof!” The mare gave an exasperated sigh, then glared at Fluttershy before stomping away from the table. Mrs. Cake could hardly keep track of the requests coming from all the guests, but she managed. “Anyway, about a half-hour ago Pinkie screamed something about streamers and ran off toward the restrooms. I know we mares tend to take a while, but this is ridiculous!”
Fluttershy jumped at her chance. “Umm, if you like, I’d be happy to help you. If you want me to, that is…”
Still hoofing out treats to the guests at the table, Mrs. Cake replied, “Oh, that’s very nice of you, Fluttershy, but wouldn’t you rather go mingle? I’m sure that would be a lot more fun than standing behind this table all night.”
“Oh no, it’s okay. I’d be happy to help if you need me to.”
Mrs. Cake let out a huge sigh of relief. “Celestia herself must have sent you, dear. Could you grab any trays of cupcakes and keep them in front of you?”
Fluttershy nodded. “Oh yes, I can do that.”
After gathering all the trays of cupcakes and spreading them out in front of her, Fluttershy turned to Mrs. Cake and asked, “Now what?”
“Just a moment, dear.” Mrs. Cake took in a deep breath and yelled over the din, “ANYPONY THAT WANTS CUPCAKES COME TO THIS SIDE OF THE TABLE!” A throng of mares turned and started squeezing through each other to get to the cupcakes in front of Fluttershy, as Mr. Cake continued to give large slices of cakes and pies to the stallions. “Okay dear, just hoof out the cupcakes as they ask for them, but let me run through them with you first. These are blueberry, these here are cinnamon swirl, these are Pinkie’s special cupcakes—she still won’t tell us what’s in them, but they seem to be a hit—these are…”
“Um, here you are, ma'am. Enjoy!” Fluttershy gave a cupcake to a mare she recognized from her first gala, but couldn’t remember who she was. As there was a temporary lull on the cupcake side of the table, a purple mare with a tray approached her.
“Hi there, Fluttershy! I didn’t think you were working tonight!”
“Oh no, I’m not, Berry. I’m just helping the Cakes because they were a bit overwhelmed.”
“Well, that’s nice of you! Would you like a drink? Let’s see… I’ve got some hard cider from the Apple farm—probably the mildest stuff I have.”
Fluttershy shook her head. “I really shouldn’t. Not while I’m giving out treats to the guests.”
Berry Punch persisted. “Aw, why not? It’s just one drink; it ain’t gonna hurt ya!”
Fluttershy slunk back for a moment before responding, “Well, I guess not. The crowd seems to have lessened a bit, anyway.”
“That’s the spirit!” Berry Punch put a glass of cider down on the table. “Hey, I made a funny! Enjoy!”
“Thank you, Berry!” Fluttershy chuckled. “Have a good night!” Taking a sip of the cider, she said, “Ooo, that is good…”
“Oh, Fluttershy, however did you get saddled into taking Pinkie’s place at the Cakes’ table?” Rarity asked. “Is she bothering everypony about streamers again? I don’t know what’s wrong with that silly filly! Well, aside from the obvious,” she chuckled.
“Oh no, Pinkie didn’t saddle me with anything—I offered,” Fluttershy replied. “We’re doing quite well; I’m glad I could help. It’s much better than simply being surrounded by all these ponies I don’t know. At least this way I’m being productive.”
“Well, if that’s the way you want it, darling.” Rarity glanced around the table. “Say, would you split a cinnamon swirl with me, Fluttershy? After the night I’ve had, I deserve a full cupcake, but my thighs would never forgive me.” Rarity and Fluttershy glanced at Mrs. Cake, who gave them a big smile, then nodded and waved a hoof at them.
“What’s the matter, Rarity? Did everything go alright with your date?” Fluttershy inquired.
“Well, we thought it would be nice to spend the night in the company of others. He thought he met… well, let’s just say we left on equitable terms.”
“…Oh, okay. Well, I’d be happy to split a swirl with you. I haven’t tried anything all night.”
Rarity gasped. “Why darling, that simply MUST be rectified!” She lifted a cupcake in her aura and split it in two, levitating one half into Fluttershy’s hoof and the other into her own. “To the Cakes!”
The two of them ate their cupcakes just as Berry Punch strode by. “Hello, Rarity! Hey, Fluttershy! Would you like another cider? Not many ponies have asked for it, so there’s plenty to spare.” Berry offered Fluttershy a full bottle.
Fluttershy shrugged. “Oh, why not? That first one was great—Applejack never disappoints.” Berry placed the bottle on the table.
“Why Fluttershy, I didn’t know you liked hard cider!” Rarity exclaimed. “I’ll make sure to get some from AJ for our next gathering. I wonder if Lotus and Aloe would mind if we brought some to a spa day?” Rarity scratched her chin and looked toward the ceiling.
“Rarity, would you like something?” Berry asked.
“Oooh, I’d certainly like something,” Rarity responded. “At the very least another drink; do you have any Caberneigh?”
“Here you are, sir. Enjoy!” Mr. Cake hoofed a giant slice of cake to yet another large stallion, who trotted off happily with his dessert. Turning around, Mr. Cake found his wife sitting in a chair, with Fluttershy beside her, sipping from a cider bottle. “Finally, a lull! That’s the only guest that’s been to the table in the last ten minutes!”
Mrs. Cake sighed. “Yes, it seems most ponies have had their fill of dessert, but there’re still a few pies and cupcakes left. Besides, we can’t leave without the Princess’s say-so!”
“Don’t worry, dear, I know. But we can at least rest our hooves.” Mr. Cake turned to Fluttershy. “Fluttershy, how can we ever thank you? We’d be completely breathless if you hadn’t come along!”
“Yes, dear. You certainly saved our flanks!” Mrs. Cake agreed.
“Oh, it was no trouble, really,” Fluttershy responded with a smile. “I’m glad I could be of help.” She lifted her cider to her lips and finished off the bottle.
As Mr. Cake sat down next to his wife, Berry Punch wandered by. “Hiya, Mr. and Mrs. Cake! Looks like you’re doing well!”
The Cakes nodded. “Yes, we are. Thanks to Fluttershy here.” Mrs. Cake smiled and put a hoof around Fluttershy’s neck. “We’d be lost without her!”
Fluttershy blushed. “Hey, it was pretty fun!” she exclaimed as she firmly placed her empty cider bottle on the table in front of them.
Berry giggled and replied, “I’m sure it was! You want another one of those, Flutters?” She popped open another cider bottle and replaced the empty one on the table.
Fluttershy grinned. “You bet!” She snatched the bottle from the table and got in a few good chugs.
“How about you?” Berry asked as she looked over at the Cakes. “You look like you could use a refreshment or two,” she said with a smile.
The Cakes looked at each other and shrugged. “What’s the harm?” Mr. Cake said to his wife. The two of them smirked at each other. They’d done a good job; they deserved a reward. “Got anything strong?” Mrs. Cake asked Berry.
Berry copied their smirk. “I’ve got my special blend…”
Mr. Cake raised his brows. “You mean the special blend?”
Berry nodded. “That’s the one.”
Mr. and Mrs. Cake smiled at each other, nodded, then turned to Berry and spoke in unison.
“Two, please.”
“Well, lookit you three! Y’all look plum tuckered out!” Applejack chuckled as she leaned over the table. Fluttershy sat on the floor behind the table, with Mr. and Mrs Cake on either side of her. The two bakers each held an empty glass in their hooves, while Fluttershy struggled to keep a half-drunk bottle upright.
Fluttershy let out a hiccup before responding, “Hiya, AJ! How did you pie selling do?”
Applejack laughed. “Almost as good as y’all! Mah pies were gone right quick. A Wonderbolt by th’ name o’ Soarin’ was a pretty frequent customer. And mah fritters were gone in a heartbeat!” At this, Applejack got a glance at Fluttershy’s hoof. “Hey Flutters, you drinkin’ one’a mah hard ciders?”
Fluttershy smirked and shook her head. When Applejack cocked a brow at her, Fluttershy smiled and said, “Not one… FFFFIVE!” as she lifted the bottle in the air with a flourish.
Applejack’s smile broke. “Five? Fluttershy, Ah think ya mighta overdone yerself. I made this batch fer the Gala extra strong. No wonder yer lookin’ all… happy. Have ya even left the table?”
Fluttershy leaned forward and mockingly said, “Nnnnope!”
“Dang. Ah’m amazed ya didn’t break the seal,” Applejack said.
Fluttershy put a hoof on her hip and responded, “Now why i’the hay would I do that? He’s a good friend’a mine!”
Applejack shook her head. “Nevermind.”
“Oh, le’the girl have her fun!” Mrs. Cake slurred, waving a hoof. “She earned it!”
“Maybe so, but I dunno if y’all know Flutters when she gets all loopy. Ah only seen it once b’fore, an’ it wasn’t purdy. Le’s just say she’s a lotta flutter an’ not a lotta shy.”
“Oh, ledder fludder!” Mr. Cake said. “She did a hay of a job helpin’ us tonight. We oughtta off’ her a job, Cuppy!”
Mrs. Cake yawned. “Yeah, maybe…”
Fluttershy put the bottle on the floor in front of her, looped her forelegs around Mr. and Mrs. Cake, and said, “I ASSSEPT!”
Applejack’s brows shot up. “What in Equestria have you two been drinkin’?” She glanced at their empty glasses and noticed the melting remanences of a signature: golden ice cubes. “That Berry’s ‘special blend’?”
In unison, Mr. and Mrs. Cake held up their empty glasses and said, “Eyyyyup!”
Applejack’s hoof found her forehead, then she asked, “How many’ve y’all had?”
Mr. Cake yawned and replied, “Ehhhh, three er four.”
Applejack’s eyes bulged, then she sprang into action. “Well now, lookit ya all yawnin’ like. Y’all really are tuckered out. C’mon, lemme help y’all to the rooms Princess Celestia reserved fer us, huh?” She hopped over the table and lifted the three of them to their hooves.
“What’re ya doin’, Aygee?” Fluttershy slurred as Applejack lined her and the cakes up on their hooves. With perfect timing and precision, Applejack slipped herself under all three of their barrels, lifted them onto her back, and began trotting toward the reserved rooms.
“Ah’m gettin’ y’all ta bed, ‘Shy. Ah can’t imagine how much yer head’s gonna hurt in the mornin’, but the more rest ya get, the better. Fer all three of ya.”
As Applejack trotted down the corridor that led to the reserved chambers, she thanked Celestia for her Earth pony strength. It certainly was helpful at that moment, what with her carrying three now-sleeping ponies on her back.
Slipping into one of the rooms that Celestia had mentioned before the Gala, Applejack sighed with relief when she found nopony else in the room. As she stared at the large, king-sized bed in the room, she regretted not thinking ahead; she had Fluttershy laying sprawled on her back between the Cakes, which made it difficult to separate them. At this point, her back was beginning to give out, so Applejack sighed, “Buck it,” and carefully slid all three of them onto the bed, flipping them onto their backs. “It’s certainly big enough fer the three of ‘em. They’re prob’ly too off the wagon to notice anyway.” After pushing the trio the rest of the way onto the mattress and rolling each of them onto their sides, she stretched her back out, eliciting a loud crack, then sighed and trotted out of the room, shutting the door behind her. “Hope they don’t have a rude awakenin’ later.”
Fluttershy found herself between sleep and wakefulness. She could hear the sound of two ponies’ breathing, but neither breath was hers. At that moment, her head began pounding, and she put her hooves to her temples. Rubbing her head as she leaned on her side, she allowed one of her wings to unfold, which elicited a giggle from behind her. It was a female giggle, she could tell, but she couldn’t tell whose it was.
“Oh, sweetie, that tickles.”
Continuing to rub her head, Fluttershy retracted her wing, but in the process, she leaned to the other side, allowing her other wing to extend itself. This caused her to hear a chuckle from behind her, this time a male.
“Oh, sweetie, please, another night.”
Fluttershy folded up her other wing, trying to stay as comfortable as possible in the process, but her head continued pounding; it just wouldn’t stop.
As she struggled to sit up, Fluttershy felt a pressure in her lower abdomen. She had only felt this onset of sudden pressure a few times before—it was usually gradual. She remembered the phrase that Applejack had used earlier. Berry Punch had said it once in the past, but it still didn’t really make sense. She hadn’t drunk alcohol enough to understand the correlation between this sudden sensation and one of her animal friends, but she certainly didn’t want to hurt him.
At that moment, the sensation of pressure changed to one of pain. Fluttershy’s eyes shot open, and her knowledge of the phrase came back. Scrambling off the foot of the bed, she stumbled to get to the door. Bouncing on the bed, the Cakes turned over and looked at each other before they screamed, a response caused by a shriek at the door.
Oh, the pageantry! The sophistication! The spectacle!
Two of those things were not something Rarity had ever thought of when it came to a party organised by Pinkie Pie. The third thing though… well, Pinkie Pie was definitely making a spectacle of herself—at least tonight.
It was… refreshing… Rarity told herself, to not be the one in charge of organising the Gala this year. She certainly had enough on her plate in preparation for the eve. Her newfound reputation led to many a mare desiring to wear her fashion to the Gala (along with a few ponies daring to wear cheap knock-offs!), which left her sorely lacking in the time it took to organise such a sophisticated event.
She hadn’t even had the time to find a date for the evening.
Not that she normally cared about that sort of thing, but ever since he had gotten engaged… well, she couldn’t let him show her up.
I mean, who cares, really, if Blueblood has up and gotten engaged to some Countess? Certainly not me! Certainly not enough to go and ask the first recently-single stallion who’d walked into my boutique looking for a graduation gown for his daughter. Spoiled Rich’s loss, my gain!
She looked over at her date. Filthy Rich certainly was a handsome cut of a stallion. And he is rich; it’s in his name, after all. And he had been nothing but a gentlecolt since she had asked him to accompany her to the gala.
“Miss Rarity, I can’t thank you enough!” Filthy Rich exclaimed as he led Rarity by the hoof to the ballroom. “I’ve never been to a Gala before.”
“Really?” Rarity asked. It was quite surprising, as while tickets to the gala were indeed rare and expensive, Filthy seemed to Rarity very much like the kind of stallion that would frequent such an event. Contacts amongst the elite were the only way to keep ahead in any business in Equestria.
“Yes,” he replied, nodding. “My dear ex-wife loved to attend these galas, though she often insisted on coming alone.” Rarity quieted down. She had learned early on that Spoiled Rich was a hot button topic for the stallion. “Always said I’d never fit in. That I’d be an embarrassment to her.”
A waiter passed by, and Rarity levitated two flutes of wine from the stallion’s tray. She needed to diffuse Filthy’s growing agitation, else he would be embarrassing somepony!
“Well,” Rarity said, levitating the glass to Filthy, who took it in his hooves, “I don’t think you’re an embarrassment, and I think I am very lucky to have you accompany me. To a wonderful night out!”
Rarity lifted her glass to her lips, waiting for Filthy to raise his own. When she looked, she noticed Filthy’s attention was elsewhere.
“Mr. Rich?” she said.
“Oh, sorry, Miss Rarity,” Filthy apologised.
“No need to apologise,” Rarity said, a coy smile on her face. “I was just toasting: to a wonderful night out!”
“Yes,” Filthy said, raising his own glass to his lips. “To a wonderful night out!”
“Prince Blueblood,” Rarity said, with a forced smile. “How pleasant to see you.” She turned to the—surprisingly porcine—mare who stood with the Prince. “And this must be your fiancée?”
“Yes, this is Lady Constance de Coverlet,” Blueblood replied. “Lady Constance, this is Dame Rarity of Ponyville.”
“Ahh, Countess, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,” Rarity said, extending her hoof to the mare.
“Believe me, my dear,” Lady Constance replied, elbowing her fiancé, “neither have I.”
Blueblood coughed sharply, turning a bright shade of red. He turned to Filthy, giving the stallion a crucial eye. “Have I met you somewhere before?”
Filthy Rich avoided the prince’s gaze. “No, Your Highness, I’m certain we haven’t.”
“No, I didn’t think so,” the prince replied, turning his nose up. “I don’t normally associate with earth ponies… No offense intended, of course.”
“None taken,” Filthy replied, gritting his teeth.
“So,” Blueblood said, turning his attention away from the other stallion, “Dame Rarity, your partner certainly seems… older… than you are. By some years, I might imagine.”
“And your partner seems more—” Rarity stopped herself, before she could say something that might ruin her hard fought for reputation. “—generous… a mare than I’d have expected you with.”
“Yes, well, Auntie insisted that I—”
Blueblood paused mid-sentence, then turned back to Filthy Rich. His eyes went wide as dinner plates.
“Well it was lovely to meet you both but my fiancée and I must depart have a good evening!”
Before anypony could get another word in, Blueblood dragged his fiancée away, an impressive feat given her size.
“What was that all about?” Rarity asked.
“I have no idea,” Filthy Rich replied, his brow knit in a frown.
“Ahh, Miss Rarity!”
As the stallion crossed the ballroom floor, ponies made certain to get out of his way.
“Hoity!” Rarity squealed, before she placed a dainty kiss on the stallion’s cheek. “Oh, it is so good to see you.”
“Yes, yes,” the stallion replied, clopping his hooves. An attendant—evidently one of his own—placed a cushion underneath his rump as the stallion sat down. “Tell me, my dear, how has your boutique been? Are you ready to leave that dreary little village and join us here in Canterlot full-time yet?”
“N-no, not quite yet, Hoity,” Rarity responded, a slight blush crossing her face.
“There’s nothing wrong with running a successful business in Ponyville,” Filthy Rich interjected.
“Hello,” Hoity said, pulling his frames away from his face. “Who’s this?”
“Ahh, Hoity Toity, I’d love to introduce you to my date for tonight,” Rarity said, stepping aside. “Filthy Rich, Hoity Toity. Hoity Toity, Filthy Rich.”
“Charmed, I’m sure.” Hoity looked the stallion over. “So, I presume you run a business in Ponyville, then?”
“Businesses all around Equestria, actually,” Filthy replied. “Barnyard Bargains: twenty stores across seventeen locations.”
“A self-made stallion, then?” Hoity asked. “I must say, I am impressed.”
“Rarity!”
The three (along with Hoity’s attendants) were startled by the sudden arrival of a rather frazzled-looking alicorn princess.
“T-twilight? Are you okay, dear?”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. Look, I need your help.”
“Umm, certainly, dear. Let me just—”
“No time! Follow me!”
“I’ll catch up with you later, Filthy. It was lovely seeing you again, Hoity!”
“Well that was a colossal waste of my time,” Rarity grumbled as she stalked back to find Filthy Rich. “The things I do for that mare!”
Rarity looked around, unable to find where her date had gone. She could see neither hide-nor-hair of Filthy Rich, nor of Hoity Toity. She did manage to spy one of Hoity’s attendants, still carrying around the pillow the stallion of fashion had been seated on before.
What was his name?
Rarity coughed politely, trying to attract the stallion’s attention.
“Can I help you, honey?” he asked.
“Yes, I was just wondering… you see… my date was here, talking with Hoity Toity before I had to dash off on a quick little errand for the Princess. And you see, now I can’t find him. You wouldn’t have happened to have seen where he went?”
The stallion raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, I saw him alright, hon.”
“Oh, that’s marvelous! Where did he go?”
The stallion pointed towards where the restrooms were. “They went into the facilities over there, about twenty minutes ago. I’m sure they won’t be long now.”
“Oh, thank you!” Rarity said, smiling. “I’ll just wait here then.”
Rarity watched as Hoity Toity and Filthy Rich left the restroom together. Hoity Toity smiled at her, as they crossed the floor, though Filthy Rich seemed to be avoiding eye contact.
“There you are!” Rarity beamed. “I was looking all over for you.”
“S-sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Rarity,” Filthy replied, still avoiding her eyes.
“Thank you so very much, Miss Rarity, for introducing me to this fine stallion,” Hoity said. “I’m certain our future…business ventures… will go swimmingly, all thanks to you.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Rarity squealed. “I’m so glad the two of you have hit it off so well! Oh, Filthy, dear, you seem to have something in your ma—”
Rarity stared intently at the liquid dripping from the stallion’s mane.
“Please tell me that is zap apple jam,” she whispered.
“Non!” Hoity shouted. “I really am that fabulous! I will see you next week, yes?” Filthy Rich silently nodded. “Then I shall wait ‘til then!”
Hoity Toity trotted off, a certain spring in his step, but not before whapping Filthy Rich on the flank with his tail.
“S-sorry, Rarity,” Filthy Rich whispered, keeping away from Rarity’s gaze. “I should have told you the truth from the start.”
“It is fine, Filthy,” Rarity said, before turning away. “Just so long as I am not the one who has to tell Diamond Tiara that she has a spare daddy.”
Half-awake and half-drunk, Fluttershy stumbled out of the restroom.
“Oooh, I hope he’s okay. Mr. Seal wasn’t even here… At least I feel better.” Walking down the hall, she noticed a variety of paintings along the walls, some of them a bit scary, some of them beautiful. Art was a secret passion of hers, but she wasn’t in the right state to truly appreciate it. After a few minutes she opened the door to the room that she had been provided and laid back down on the bed. The only thing she could think about at the moment was going back to sleep. Her head pounded, which made it even easier for the lack of her bed companions to go unnoticed.
“Your team put on a most admirable show, Spitfire. I thank all of you for your service tonight. I am sure you would have much prefered attending as guests,” Princess Celestia said, leading the performers down one of the castle corridors.
“I’m pretty certain my team prefers flying over hobnobbing with the elites, Your Highness,” Spitfire replied, to the mutterings of agreement behind her.
“Understandably so,” Celestia replied. “In any case, I have reserved one of the larger rooms for you all to stay in. With so many guests staying at the castle tonight, I felt it fair for you all to be together so you could discuss your performance. That is something that is usually done after a show, am I correct?”
“Indeed it is, Your Highness. Thank you,” Spitfire answered with a nervous smile.
Celestia smirked. “Have no fear, Captain. You shall all have your own beds.”
Spitfire sighed with relief. “Thank you, Your Highness. It can be rather… strange needing to sleep with a teammate.”
Celestia chuckled. “I can imagine.” She stopped in front of one of the doors and turned to the team. "I do hope a palace suite will be adequate quarters for your team for a night?"
“Thank you, Your Highness,” the whole of the Wonderbolts said in unison.
“You are most welcome. Thank you once again for a spectacular performance.” She nodded to the team of flyers as they entered the room, then walked back down the hall in the direction from whence she came. On her way, she came across a mint-green unicorn, looking back and forth at the walls with utter confusion.
“Are you lost, my little pony?” Celestia asked.
“Your Highness!” the unicorn exclaimed, dipping into a bow before rising to speak again. “Um, yes, I am.”
Celestia nodded. “Lyra Heartstrings, if I am correct? Your musical performance tonight was exquisite.”
“Y-yes, Your Highness. Thank you,” Lyra responded, blushing. “I… I’m looking for a room.”
“Most of the guest rooms are down this corridor. If they are occupied, there will be a sign on—”
“Ummm, actually… I’ve been asked to give a private… uhh, concert.” Lyra paused, rubbing the back of her mane. “I’m looking for Princess Luna’s room.”
“Not bad, team,” Spitfire began, as she slipped out of her uniform. “Sounds like Princess Celestia was impressed. Seems all that extra practice paid off—I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Cap!” Soarin replied, stepping out of his own suit. “Gotta say, you put us through the ringer the past few weeks, but it was worth it!”
“You bet your flank it was worth it!” Wave Chill commented, stretching out his wings.
“Yeah, I probably would’ve fallen straight out of the air after that last maneuver if I hadn’t built my stamina up during those workouts,” Fire Streak added.
Spitfire let out a short laugh. “Well, I’m glad you approve! Looks like we’ll be using some of those practice techniques more often to keep you colts in shape!” The stallions all groaned. “Hey, you were asking for it and you know it!”
“Hey, Spitfire? Looks like we’ve got an unexpected roommate,” Fleetfoot called from the far end of the room.
“What are you talking about, Fleet?” Spitfire crossed over to her teammate and saw a lump under the sheets of the last bed in the room. “Oh. Did Princess Celestia bring us to the wrong room?”
“I doubt it,” Fleetfoot answered. “This place is pretty big—I dunno how many rooms like this there would be. Then again, the castle’s huge, so I could be wrong.”
Spitfire slowly lifted the sheets to reveal the sleeping pony, only to flinch at the sight. “Isn’t this one of the bearers? The Element of Kindness? What’s she doing in here?” she whispered.
Looking over the dozing pegasus, Fleetfoot chuckled, “Looks like she’s sleeping, Cap’n.” When Spitfire put up a hoof and shushed her, Fleetfoot responded, “I don’t think you need to worry about it, Cap’n. She’s out like a light—I didn’t even hear her stir while we were chatting. I just happened upon the lump.”
“Good point,” Spitfire said. “But if Princess Celestia reserved this room for us, how did Fluttershy get in here?”
Fleetfoot smirked. “I have a feeling she stumbled in here in a drunken stupor. I’ve seen that look before.” Fleetfoot pointed at Fluttershy’s sprawled figure, along with her tongue lolling out of her mouth.
Spitfire cocked a brow. “You sure? From what I know about her when Ponyville had water duty, Fluttershy doesn’t seem like the type to drink.”
“Hey, we’re at the Grand Galloping Gala. If there’s any occasion to let your mane down and have a few, I’d say tonight would be the night, no matter how ‘proper’ it’s supposed to be,” Fleetfoot responded, waving a hoof in the air. “If Miss ‘Shy here isn’t a drinker, then she probably doesn’t know her limit. I have a feeling she overdid herself.”
“Yeah, I guess that’d make sense. We should probably wake her up, though,” Spitfire said.
“Why?” Fleetfoot asked. “She’s sleeping like a foal. You really want to disturb her?”
“Well, aside from the fact that she’s taking up one of the beds—”
“Oh c’mon, Cap’n. Maybe it’s uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed as a teammate, but Fluttershy here isn’t a teammate. If you’re that sensitive about it, I’ll take—”
“Let me finish, Fleet,” Spitfire interrupted. “Unless she went through some big change, Fluttershy is one of the most timid ponies I’ve ever seen. If she wakes up with another pony that she didn’t see before, she’s likely to have a heart attack.”
“Ah,” Fleetfoot replied. “I see your point. Then yeah, maybe we should wake her.”
“Hey Cap, everything okay?” Soarin asked, as he and Wave Chill approached the two mares.
“Yeah, it’s okay. I think we need to find an empty room for this one, though,” Spitfire said, bobbing her head toward Fluttershy.
“She taking up a bed?” Wave Chill asked.
“Well, yes, but that’s not why,” Fleetfoot answered. “The Cap’n and I already discussed it—let’s find her another room.”
“Find who another room?” Fire Streak questioned as he cantered over.
“The Element of Kindness,” Soarin chuckled. “Here, get ‘er on my back. I was gonna… head to the little colts’ room anyway—I’ll find another room on my way.” He walked up alongside Fleetfoot and spread out his wings.
“Sounds like a plan,” Spitfire said. “You got her, Fleet?”
“Yep.” Fleetfoot nudged Fluttershy gently in the side. “Miss Fluttershy? Hello?” Fluttershy giggled at the prod to her ribs, but otherwise stayed put. “Okay, that’s not gonna work.”
“Here, I’ll give you a hoof.” Fire Streak trotted to the opposite side of the bed and lifted up Fluttershy’s head with a wing. As Fleetfoot put a hoof underneath it, Fluttershy hummed and turned over in her sleep, grabbing Fleetfoot and dragging her onto the bed with a smile. Fleetfoot looked imploringly at her captain, who simply said, “Well, that didn’t go as planned.”
“Clearly,” Wave Chill commented. “Need another hoof?”
“That would be helpful,” Fleetfoot answered, still held in Fluttershy’s grasp.
“Well, I don’t wanna yank on ya— let’s try something simple.” Wave Chill took a wing and started tickling Fluttershy under the chin, causing her to loosen her grip and giggle again. Fleetfoot took the opportunity to slip out from the shy pegasus’s clutches. Wave Chill smirked. “Somethin’ my Pop taught me.”
Spitfire nodded. “That’s all well and good, but we still need to get her out of the bed. I don’t think we’re gonna wake her, after seeing that little show. I don’t want to be too aggressive, though.”
“True,” Wave Chill said. “Maybe we could gently drag her off the foot of the bed?”
“Worth a try,” Soarin answered, trotting to a new position.
As Wave Chill gently pulled on Fluttershy’s rear hooves, she turned over onto her back, then without warning, kicked her hooves straight up, launching Wave Chill into the air. “Wah!” he cried, quickly extending his wings, allowing himself to slow his descent back to the floor. “Woah. That filly’s stronger than she looks! That was quite a buck!” he said, rubbing his sides.
“Hey, Cap? I hate to bail right now, but I really do need to, uhh, hit the rooms,” Soarin said. “Can I help when I get back?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” Spitfire answered. “Last thing we need is an accident.”
“Thanks, Cap. I’ll be back soon. Good luck,” Soarin said, trotting out of the room.
Spitfire glanced back at Fluttershy, her rear hooves now hanging off the foot of the bed. “Here, maybe I can handle this. Bring her this way.” She slipped a wing under Fluttershy’s legs and walked to one side of the bed as Fleetfoot proceeded to guide her onto the captain’s back from the other side. “There you go, Fleet, keep it up.”
“Careful she doesn’t buck again,” Wave Chill commented.
“Believe me, I’m trying,” Fleetfoot said as she climbed on top of the bed. No sooner had she said it, Fluttershy turned back over in Fleetfoot’s direction and grabbed her barrel with a little hum, pulling them both to the mattress. “Well, isn’t she persistent,” Fleetfoot deadpanned. “Is it even worth it?”
Spitfire began, “Well, we don’t want her to—”
“If she wakes up and screams, I’ll tell her what happened. I seriously doubt she’ll think I took advantage of her. Frankly, I’m too tired to deal with this. Just go to bed and leave me be.” Fleetfoot sighed. “At least I’m already out of my gear.”
“Well, if you’re sure, Fleet. Have a good rest,” Spitfire said with a shrug. “At least you’re sleeping with somepony we can trust.”
“Yeah, and not somepony trying to get on the team,” Fire Streak chuckled.
Fleetfoot glared at him from her pinned position. “Are you implying something? Any nasty thoughts you’ve got in that sick brain of yours better get outta there before I buck ‘em out!”
Fire Streak and Wave Chill both laughed. “Sorry, Fleet, couldn’t resist,” Fire Streak said.
“Besides, you know we screen for that kind of stuff,” Spitfire said. As the teammates climbed into their respective beds, Spitfire looked toward the door. “Where the hay is Soarin? You’d think he’s using the damn bathroom as his office…”
“Hey, sometimes even stallions can take awhile,” Wave Chill retorted, “but I bet he really left to go chase some tail,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.
“Well, if he comes in late and wakes me up, he’s doing fifty wing-ups, minimum.”
A knock on her door caused Princess Luna to lift her head. She heard one of her guards’ voices: “A Miss Lyra Heartstrings for you, Your Highness.”
“Grant her entrance,” she replied. The door opened, and a quivering Lyra walked in, causing Luna to sit up on her haunches and clap her forehooves together. “Ah, Miss Heartstrings, thou hast arrived! We had hoped thou wouldst grant Our request!”
“O-of course, Your Highness! It would be an honor!” Lyra said.
“We are most grateful,” Luna replied. “Despite the exhaustion that followed, We found it most difficult to achieve slumber after last year’s gala. ‘Tis the one night of the year We are given the night ‘off,’ though dreamscape-hopping is still a frequent occurrence, even in slumber. Mayhaps some musical accompaniment will prove the endeavor simpler this year.”
“I… thank you for the opportunity, Your Highness, but if I may ask, why me? I would have thought something of a lower tone than a lyre more useful for sleep. Octavia—she’s the cellist that performed tonight—would probably have been better suited for something like this… not that I’m complaining, of course!” Lyra finished, hoping she recovered well enough.
“Ah yes, the cellist,” Luna said. “We considered asking her—she is also quite skilled—but in truth, We found thy performance rather… hypnotizing. T’would be preferable, if thou art still willing.”
“Absolutely!” Lyra responded. “Do you have any requests, Your Highness?”
“We are rather fond of Chopone, if thou knowest any of his nocturnes.”
“Actually, yes—quite a few of them!” Lyra said.
“Splendid!” Luna clapped her hooves once again, then patted a spot next to her on her mattress. “Come, make thyself comfortable!”
Lyra’s eyes widened. “Uh, on your bed, Your Highness?”
“Why yes, Our mattress is the softest in Equestria! Our minstrel deservest the utmost comfort while she performs, dost thou not agree?”
Lyra stood stock still for a moment. “Um… if you wish, Your Highness.” She cocked a brow. Am I seriously about to get into bed with the Princess? No, not like that. She probably just wants to hear her music close up. I’m sure that’s it.
Luna snuggled herself under her covers as Lyra approached the bed. “We are most appreciative of thy time, Miss Lyra. Thou shalt be justly compensated.”
“Oh, not at all, Your Highness! That’s really not necessary. It’s an honor just to be here,” Lyra said as she took her place on the mattress. Woah, she wasn’t kidding—I could fall asleep standing up on this thing!
Luna smiled. “Thou art most kind. We shall find another way to give thee Our proper thanks, if thou doth not wish for bits.”
“Th-thank you, Your Highness. If you insist, I’m sure we’ll think of something,” Lyra stammered. “Do you have any preferences?”
Luna tapped her chin. “Dost thou know Opus Nine?”
Lyra grinned. “That’s one of my favorites.”
“Wonderful!” Luna gave a tiny leap under her covers. “Please, begin when ready, fair minstrel,” Luna said with a smile, and a small flourish of her hoof.
“Absolutely, Your Highness,” Lyra responded, returning the smile. She took in a deep breath, then exhaled, her aura levitating her lyre beside her, about two legs’ lengths away from Princess Luna for just the right volume. Lyra thought of the melody in her head, allowing the music to flow freely through her aura, and into the lyre itself, just as she had become accustomed to doing.
Luna lay under her covers, embracing the melody of the musician long passed, and allowed herself to become enveloped in the opus being performed for her. Closing her eyes, Luna allowed herself to relax completely. “Thou art indeed skilled, Miss Lyra,” she said softly.
Lyra in turn closed her eyes, blushing. “Thank you, Your Highness.” Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Lyra continued playing the melody, while at the same time focusing on a spell she had just recently perfected. A touch more power to her horn caused her sunglow aura to turn a deeper shade of amber, and the lyre levitated in place on its own, still playing Princess Luna’s desired opus. Lyra thought of a list of Chopone’s most relaxing nocturnes that she knew of in her head, sent another spark of magic to the lyre, then gently laid herself down on the soft bedding beneath her. I knew that auto-play spell would come in handy one day, I just didn’t think I’d be using it so soon. Wow, this bed is soft…
An hour or so later, in the black of night, Luna awoke to the sounds of the lyre still playing. Rubbing her eyes, she began, “Miss Lyra, art thou still—” When she found the unicorn curled around herself a mere hoof length away, she cut herself off. Noticing the lyre hovering above her head, Luna raised her brows. A most skilled lyrist indeed, Luna thought to herself. Opus Twenty-Seven in her sleep! Looking around the room, she glanced at her clock, which read half past two. Hmm… We do indeed have this night to Ourselves. Perhaps We should take advantage of this early hour… Luna looked over at Lyra, blissfully sleeping on the bed beside her with a smile on her face. And Our minstrel certainly deserves a fair night’s rest—her skill shall not go unheeded.
With a confirming nod to herself, Luna settled back under her covers, and gently drifted back into the dreamscape with the lyre’s continued accompaniment.
“Ah, Miss Lyra, We have located thee!”
Luna found herself in Ponyville Park, approaching a simple bench with two ponies sitting on it. The mint green lyrist sat propped up, her withers leaning against the back of a bench, while her company lay on her barrel beside her. The two of them sat listening to the distant music playing in the background, but they knew not where it came from.
“Your Highness!” Lyra responded. “How are you? How did you sleep? I hope I played well enough for you.”
Luna chuckled. “On all accounts, quite well. And thou art playing splendidly.”
Lyra cocked a brow. “I… am?” She looked at her empty hooves, then up to the sky, and listened to the music again. “Wait, is that me? Am I—”
Luna nodded. “We have heard of one bragging about being able to ‘play in their sleep,’ but to actually do so is quite the feat. We are most impressed.”
Lyra blushed. “Thank you, Your Highness.” Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. “Hold on, if I’m still playing, that means I fell asleep on—”
“Our bed, yes,” Luna finished. “Worry not, fair minstrel, there is plenty of room,” she said with a laugh. “‘Tis not surprising Our mattress would lull thee to slumber. That is indeed its intended purpose—it contains a mild enchantment. Unfortunately, We seem to have grown immune to it as of late. ‘Twas why We requested thy assistance.”
“That makes sense,” Lyra said, nervously rubbing the back of her mane. Geez, why’d I have to go and put my head down? I actually went to bed with Princess Luna! What’s Bonnie gonna think? Lyra turned and looked at the figment of her best friend sitting beside her. Wait… It’s not like I slept with the Princess. I’m just asleep on her bed. I don’t think Bonnie’ll mind.
“There is no need to fear. If your partner requests an explanation, We would be perfectly willing to provide one,” Luna said. Lyra clasped a hoof over her muzzle, causing Luna to let out a small laugh. “Apologies, Miss Lyra, but in the dreamscape, even thoughts cannot be concealed from Us. ‘Twas not Our intention to pry.”
“Th-that’s okay, Your Highness, I understand,” Lyra stammered. “I hope you didn’t take that the wrong way.”
“Not at all—‘tis a fair worry, but an unnecessary one. We shall keep Our muzzle muted, if thou wisheth,” Luna said.
Lyra cocked a brow. “Huh?”
The princess put a hoof to her forehead. “Apologies. We believe the modern turn of phrase is ‘keep Our lips sealed’?”
“Oh!” Lyra laughed. “Yes, thank you, Your Highness.”
Luna nodded. “Thou art welcome, Miss Lyra. Thy ‘Bonnie’ shant have any knowledge of this occasion unless thou wisheth it.”
Lyra sighed. “Phew. I mean, I know I’m not actually doing anything wrong, but Bonnie can be a little… sensitive. Sometimes a little too sensitive.”
“Everypony is entitled to their own flaws, if thou wouldst consider oversensitivity as such,” Luna said.
“That’s true,” Lyra replied, glancing at the pony next to her, who had made no move since Princess Luna’s appearance.
Looking up at the sky, Luna listened to the music in the background with a smile. “We shall let thee dream in peace. Thou shalt be escorted to a carriage in the morning. After breakfast, if thou wisheth.”
Lyra smiled. “Thank you, Your Highness. It would be an honor.”
Nodding again, Luna said, “We shall see thee come the dawn, Miss Lyra. We must wake to lower the moon, but thou may continue thy slumber for as long as it pleases thee. Rest well.” With that, Luna closed her eyes and disappeared in a blinding flash.
Luna awoke to the soft sounds of the lyre still hovering above her bed. She felt an odd, yet refreshing sense of warmth about her. As she stretched her legs, she found her left hoof pinned to her mattress. Opening her eyes, she discovered the mint green unicorn grasping her barrel, nibbling softly on her ear. Her irises shrinking to pinpricks, Luna let out a gasp, promptly waking the unicorn in turn.
When she found herself in the offending position, Lyra let out an “Aagh!” as she released her hold on the princess and hopped off the bed, causing the lyre to fall to the mattress. “Your Highness! I—”
“This is not the kind of thanks We had in mind!” Luna said, blushing.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness! We even talked about this already, didn’t we?” Lyra asked, recalling their conversation in the dreamscape.
The princess nodded. “It appears our bodies and minds had different ideas…” Luna glanced at the clock— 8:30 in the morning. “Perhaps it would be best if thou leavest promptly. Our apologies for not following through with Our offer of breakfast.”
Lyra shook her head. “I-it’s okay, Your Highness. There’s a nice place down the street—they make some pretty good breakfast pastries. I’ll be fine.”
We shall refrain from mentioning this to Tia, Luna thought to herself. “If that is the case…” Luna conjured a quill and scroll from nothing and wrote out a note, then passed it to Lyra. “We shall at the very least treat thee to breakfast. Give this to the owner of said establishment—thy meal is on Us.”
Grabbing her lyre in her aura, Lyra smiled nervously as she took the scroll. “Th-thank you, Your Highness. I hope you slept well.”
Luna nodded. “Quite so, perhaps the best sleep in decades.” She paused for a moment. “Thy musical performance was masterful—thou doest Chopone proud.”
Giving a small bow, Lyra replied, “It was a pleasure, Your Highness. Thank you for your praise… and breakfast. And, uh…” Her eyes darted back and forth. “I’ll… keep my muzzle muted about… that.”
“As shall We,” Luna responded. “For the betterment of us both.” Lyra nodded, then rushed out the chamber door.
Taking a deep breath and stretching her wings, Luna glanced around the room, then out the window at the night sky. As she prepared to walk to her balcony and lower the moon, she stopped herself, then looked back at her clock.
Tia usually lowers the moon in Our stead when We are out of sorts. Sunrise should have been at least two hours ago…
Under the dim streetlights, on the terrace of a quiet café across from Canterlot Castle, Octavia sat quietly, sipping her earl grey while her roommate downed another Red Pegasus.
Vinyl Scratch stared at her roommate. Octavia looked exceptionally disheveled this morning; her mane was completely unbrushed, her signature bow tie was askew and undone. And the mare had sauntered (Vinyl had never seen Octavia saunter!) up to the café wearing the most curious smirk across her face.
They had sat in silence for several minutes (as usually happened when Octavia chose to be infuriatingly quiet), before Vinyl finally decided to voice her inquiry.
<What did you get up to last night?> she gestured wildly. <You never came back to the hotel room!>
Octavia’s smirk grew exponentially.
9:45 PM
I carefully packed my cello and bow away, thankful that our quartet had finished for the evening. Frederick and Harpo had left, together, and Lyra had conspicuously disappeared after a brief word with one of the Princesses.
I hadn’t heard the exact details, but I did overhear something about a private show for Luna, and there was a lot of blushing and nervous shuffling on Lyra’s part. I’d have to ask her lat—
<Wait, Lyra and Luna?>
Yes, Vinyl, but this story is about me. We can get the lurid details of Lyra’s tryst from her… or Bon Bon… later. This story is about my night. Now, where was I—
I had carefully packed away my instrument, and was about to hit the refreshment table, when the most handsome young stallion came up to me to compliment my playing.
Oh, Vinyl, he was the most adorable thing ever. I swear, I could see his blush even through his flight suit.
<Flight suit?>
Oh, yes, he was a Wonderbolt. Did I not mention that already?
<You most certainly bucking didn’t!>
Vinyl, do you kiss your mother with those hooves?
<Hey! Leave my Neigh Jersey upbringing outta this!>
Anyway, yes, he was a Wonderbolt. Very dashing stallion, though amazingly shy. He kept tripping over his words, it was adorable.
I would have thought a Wonderbolt would have had more confidence than that, but I suppose not all of us can be so charming.
<Not all of the Wonderbolts are seasoned, some are pretty green!>
Very true.
His boss—the fire-maned one—called him back, and the stallion had this lost little puppy look in his eyes. I told him to meet me back at the refreshments table when he was finished.
I watched him as he cantered back towards his teammates, and headed to the bar. Even if the stallion didn’t get the nerve to come back over, I would at least be able to enjoy that sight walking away.
10:15 PM
It was pretty quiet at the refreshment table. I was pleasantly surprised to see Berry Punch tending to the guests, as that mare certainly knew her spirits.
I gave our fellow Ponyvillian a nod, and sat down at the counter. Vinyl, you would not believe what Berry pulled out for me.
“Woodford Reserve Classic Malt—neat—for the lady?” she asked me with a wink.
“You sure know how to charm a lady,” I replied with a giggle. She poured a tumbler for me, and left the bottle. Vinyl, I absolutely must remember to thank her when we return to Ponyville… do not let me forget!
So finally the cute stallion returned. I will admit, I didn’t recognise him first, as he had slipped out of that wonderfully tight uniform.
“M-Miss Octavia?” he practically whispered as he sat down next to me.
“Ahh, you’ve returned,” I replied, smiling at him. I could feel the warmth in my cheeks, no doubt the effect of the three tumblers I’d already finished.
I motioned for Berry to bring me another glass, and poured the stallion a drink.
“I’m sorry, but you have me at a slight disadvantage, sir,” I said to him. “For while you know my name, I am unfamiliar with yours.”
He murmured something I couldn’t pick out, so I pushed the tumbler towards him.
“Drink up, then speak up, my dear,” I told him. “It does not behoove such a cute stallion to be so soft-spoken.”
Vinyl, I could have sworn that this stallion could not get any more adorable, but I was proven wrong. Calling him cute—which he most undoubtedly was—flustered the poor dear even more.
“S-Soarin,” he replied. “My name’s Soarin.”
<SOARIN! HOW CAN YOU NOT BUCKING KNOW WHO SOARIN IS?>
Ahh, yes, well, he too was quite surprised. Apparently he is some big-wig amongst the ‘Bolts, or so he told me.
Vinyl, what’s the matter? Are you having a seizure? Do you need me to find a doctor?
<Just… just get on with your story.>
10:42 PM
“Yeah, I know most of my teammates prefer Rock’n’Roll for our airshows, or some of the newer music… but I’ve always been a fan of classical music.”
“Really?” I asked, quite surprised.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I mean, can you imagine an air show set to Ritt der Walküren?”
I couldn’t, to be honest—you know I’ve never been one for sporting events—but the earnestness on his face told me I would likely agree with him, so I nodded.
“But yeah, most of the ‘Bolts aren’t interested in classical music. They say that stuff’s for the snobs in Canterlot.”
“It’s true, my profession certainly does tend to be associated with the Canterlot Elite.” I couldn’t help but smirk. “But I certainly have to admit I am not afraid to mix genres and expectations.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, my roommate and I experiment quite often.”
The poor stallion turned beet red.
“Not like that, you pervert,” I laughed, prodding him in the chest.
<Gross!>
Yes, yes! I know, Vinyl. You’ve made that abundantly clear!
“My roommate is a DJ, perhaps you’ve also heard of her? DJ PON3?”
“Uhh, not really.” Soarin rubbed the back of his head, avoiding eye contact, before looking back up. “But I think I’ve heard Fleetfoot mention him. I think she’s one of his fans.”
<Him? HIM? He thinks I’m a—>
Vinyl, calm down…
<Wait! Fleetfoot’s a fan? FLEETFOOT’S A FAN!>
Vinyl, put me down, please!
<FLEETFOOT’S A FAN! OH CELESTIA! FLEETFOOT IS ONE OF MY FANS!>
Yes, well… no more Red Pegasus for you, as you’ve clearly had too much.
11:20 PM
“Woodford Reserve Classic Malt, neat, thank you.”
“Sorry, Your Highness, we’re all out.”
I nervously eyed the bottle that Soarin and I had finished. Now, you know me… normally I wouldn’t care about beating somepony to the punch when it comes to fine whiskey, but this was Princess Celestia!
I could feel it, as she slowly swung towards us.
She knew, Vinyl. She knew!
So it was with the utmost care and planning and quick witted thinking that I came up with a distraction.
<You mean you panicked, right?>
Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe!
I mashed my lips against Soarin’s, who had his back to the princess, and passionately kissed him. In my haste, I kind of… knocked the empty bottle over the back of the counter.
“That’s it, Tavi, I’m cutting you off.”
I gave a weak smile towards Berry, who seemed to be sweating nervously.
“Sorry, Berry. I’ll see you back in Ponyville.” I nudged the stunned stallion off the barstool. “Meanwhile, I think this handsome stallion and I will find somewhere else to keep the party going.
“Your Highness,” I said, bowing ever so slightly.
She may have bid us goodbye, or may have grumbled something about everypony getting a booty call except for her last night, but I didn’t want to stick around to find out.
“Ummm, Octavia, did you, umm…”
I had forgotten about the stallion I had dragged off.
“I’m sorry, Soarin, things were just getting a little awkward there, so I thought it best we leave.”
“So, you, ummm, you didn’t want to…”
Oh Vinyl, seeing him blush while asking me was so cute, I couldn’t help myself.
“Well, if you are interested,” I said with a smirk on my face, “I would certainly be amenable to it.”
“Oh, okay, sorry I—wait! You’re interested.”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Oh, okay. Wow. Okay.” I watched as he shuffled nervously. “I need to get some things from my room, if that’s okay.”
“Some things?” I asked, raising an eyebrow just to watch him blush again.
“Yeah, I need to get some, uhh, <prench cuisine>.”
<Prench Cuisine?>
Yeah, he kept saying <prench cuisine>.
<I don’t think that’s what he was trying to say, Octy.>
Neither do I… else he is pretty terrible at ESL. Thank Celestia he made up for it with his hooves in other ways.
I followed him up a few flights of stairs to his room. I hadn’t realised he was staying at the castle!
It wasn’t until he opened his door that we noticed several lights were still on.
“Told ya he was chasing a bit of ‘pie’,” one of the stallions laughed. “Pay up, Fleet.”
“Hey, Soarin, if you were bringing her back to share, I don’t think Spitfire’d approve.”
“What, I didn’t… Octavia, I promise, I didn’t mean—”
I looked around the room. Two other stallions were awake, playing a game of cards, and the mare—Fleetfoot, I presumed, if her nickname was any indication—was lying on a bed trying to get free from somepony’s grip.
“Well, I wouldn’t say no, if that is what you were worried about.”
Silence filled the room, Vinyl. You could have heard a pin drop, if it wasn’t for the fire-mane’s snoring.
It was Fleetfoot who broke the silence first.
“I’m game, if you guys are.”
“Uhhh, I… umm… wouldn’t say no,” one of the stallions said, putting his cards down.
“I mean, it might be a good team bonding exercise… and Spitfire’s always talking to us about team bonding.”
All eyes, including my own, turned towards Soarin.
“I’m not sure if… well, umm, as vice-captain… uhhh.” He trailed off. “You guys would really want to… you know?”
The two stallions looked at each other, then at Fleetfoot, then at myself, and shrugged.
“Sure, why not?” they replied in creepy unison.
“We’d… we’d have to see each other… you know…” Soarin whispered, “naked.”
“Uhhh, dude,” one stallion said.
“We see each other naked all the time.”
12:11 AM
After prying Fleetfoot from… oh, wait! Vinyl, you’ll never guess who was in Fleetfoot’s bed… Fluttershy!
<No way! No bucking way! Shut your muzzle, you’re lying!>
A lady never lies. Embelishes, a little, but never lies.
<Seriously, like, Pinkie Promise swear?>
Pinkie Promise swear!
<Wow! It’s always the quiet ones, I guess.>
So as I was saying, after we pried Fleetfoot away from Fluttershy, we needed to find an empty room. I mean, I didn’t want to bring nearly an entire sporting team back to our hotel room… you’ve made that abundantly clear that is not okay in the past.
We were trying to find a room, most of them were either locked, or occupied.
I was about to give up when we found one room that seemed empty. We snuck in and locked the door behind us.
Fleetfoot rushed and jumped on the bed, quickly followed by the stallion with the orange mane.
<Fire Streak!>
Yes, I believe that was his name.
<OCTY! You had a three—uhh—fivesome with the Wonderbolts… and you don’t even remember their names?>
Oh, I’m sorry, how many ménages have you been involved in?
No? Nothing.
Then I’ll ask you not to criticize.
Besides, it wasn’t a fivesome. It was a sevensome… which I guess at that point it’s just become an orgy.
<SEVEN?>
Yes, as I was saying…
12:23 AM
“Oh, dear,” a familiar voice muttered as the door to the ensuite opened.
I lifted my head from where I was occupied, and espied two familiar figures.
“Mrs Cake? And …” I looked to the stallion in the full body gimp suit. “Mr Cake, I presume.”
Mrs Cake nodded.
“Umm, not to sound rude, but, ummm, what are you doing in our bed?” she asked.
“Oh, terribly sorry,” I replied. “We thought this room was empty. Didn’t know you were staying here.”
“Yes, well, since Fluttershy never returned, we thought we might… well.” She motioned with her head to her husband.
“Ahh, say no more,” I replied, smiling. Those two had their hooves full with the twins most of the time, I could understand them wanting to blow off a little steam when they could. “We’ll find another room, and be out of your manes.”
“You… you don’t have to leave,” Mrs Cake replied. “You’re… you’re welcome to join us, if you want.”
“That sounds like a splendid idea,” I replied, before returning to my meal.
“Hmmmy, whmf hrrr?”
“Who said you could ask questions, slave?” The crack of a crop reverberated through the room. “Now, lick your mistress’s boots!”
Now
<No way! I don’t believe you! Not possible, no way, you’re making things up!>
Octavia raised her hoof a little to wave as a couple trotted towards them.
“Oh, good morning Octavia. Lovely to see you this morning,” Mr Cake greeted, smiling at the pair.
“Thank you for your help last night, Octavia,” Mrs Cake said, her face a little flush. “You must stop by the bakery for… uhh… dessert one night, if we can get Pinkie to look after the twins. Maybe you could bring your friend here?”
“I’m not sure if Vinyl would be interested,” Octavia replied with a wink. “but I for one am looking forward to eating more of your warm pie.”
Mr Cake laughed, as his wife let out a quiet eep. He put his arm around her, and bid Octavia and her friend good bye.
<Okay, no! I know the Cakes, they’re married.>
“They’re earth ponies… who have pegasus and unicorn twins,” Octavia replied with a smirk.
<Means nothing!>
Octavia just raised her eyebrow.
<Okay, so maybe Fluttershy is into some weird stuff, and maybe the Cakes are into some weird kink, but that doesn’t mean you bedded the Wonder—>
Vinyl stopped flailing her hooves around when she noticed the Wonderbolts following Spitfire out of the castle gates. Soarin noticed Octavia, and gave a sheepish wave. Octavia blew several kisses back, while Wave Chill and Fire Streak winked.
Fleetfoot took to the air and bent her back to her tail, demonstrating her superior flexibility, before waving to Octavia as all five trotted off.
<No way! No bucking way! Octavia, you are the goddess of swag. I will never doubt you again!>
Octavia smiled, and resumed drinking her now lukewarm tea.
A sharp prod to her side woke her from her reverie.
<Tavi! Look over there!>
Octavia looked to where Vinyl was pointing. The two of them saw Lyra slinking out of the castle, looking around nervously before darting down the road.
“Ahhh, the walk of shame.”
<I wonder if that’s why the sun isn’t up yet.>
Octavia looked to the mid-morning sky, where the moon still sat high.
Celestia’s New Resolution/The Morning After - Crystal Moose
Berry Punch grumbled as she cleaned up the shattered glass behind the bar.
When Pinkie had asked her to help out with the Gala, she had expected a fairly high class function. Not her drunk friends smooching random stallions and knocking bottles of expensive booze over.
At least Berry was off the clock now, the Gala having officially ended, and the last of the guests had departed the hall. She could finally have a little bit of a drink as a reward for the night.
Well, almost all of the guests were gone.
One very large, very sullen white alicorn sat on the comically too-small-for-her-plot stool, nursing another drink Berry had mixed for her. The alicorn had tested the earth pony’s bartending memory, asking for multiple obscure drinks Berry was certain had gone out of fashion centuries ago.
The alicorn didn’t look like she was going to leave anytime soon, so Berry poured herself a scotch, and stood in front of the princess.
“So, what’s got you all upset?” Berry asked with as much grace and etiquette she could muster at this time of night.
“Hmmm?” Celestia looked up. “Oh, I’m sorry, my little pony… I didn’t notice you there.”
Berry huffed. It was pretty common for the barpony to be relegated to the background. Just a piece of the furniture. It was one of the jobs of a barpony, after all.
But Berry Punch dared to presume that perhaps it was the other job of a barpony that the Princess needed tonight.
Well, another job, as the primary one was keeping the glasses full.
The princess needed an ear.
Pouring out a tumbler of scotch, she hoofed it over to the princess.
Celestia took a swig, and gagged. “That is vile!”
“Yep, but it’s all that’s left.” Berry took a swig of her own, then refilled her glass. “Another for the princess.”
Celestia looked down at her empty glass, then pushed it forward. “Yes, please.”
Berry poured a second one for the princess, then downed it as fast as the alicorn did, pouring another.
“So,” Berry tried again. “What’s got Princess Celestia, head princess pony thing of all of Equestria, sitting here drinking the leftover cheap scotch with a barkeep?”
Celestia levitated her glass again, where it wobbled in her aura, before looking at Berry.
“There was somepony here tonight… somepony I had my eye on,” Celestia said. “But it seems she had her eye on somepony else.”
Berry nodded. It seemed strange, but the princess was still a pony, if not a big one with lots of power. It’d make sense that the princess would have the same woes in romance as the lesser ponies did.
Or maybe it didn’t make sense, but the fourth scotch in less than ten minutes was telling her it did.
“I’ve had my eye on her for so long, but she just doesn’t see me that way.”
Berry filled the princess’s glass, along with her own, yet again.
“Nopony sees me that way. I’m just Princess Celestia, great mother figure of Equestria. Never Celestia, the mare.”
“I know what you mean,” Berry replied. “Well, I think I do. Got a foal back home, and nopony gives me the time of day either.”
“Oh Mother, it’s been so long!” Celestia moaned.
“Yeah, I hear ya,” Berry replied.
“Three centuries! No pony has touched me in three centuries!”
Berry decided she was going to make a very stupid decision. Something she would most likely come to regret.
Something that might stop her from ever getting another bartending job ever again.
Something that she seriously hoped the princess wouldn’t throw her in the dungeon for.
She ducked under the counter, and pulled out an unopened bottle of Woodford Reserve Classic Malt. She cracked the top, and poured some into two fresh tumblers.
“But I thought…” Celestia stared at the liquid.
“I was gonna take this one home… it’s not the sort of booze I ever get to drink.” Berry shook her head. “But three hundred years? You deserve this.”
Celestia lifted the amber liquid to her mouth, inhaling the scent, and letting it flow across her lips, and roll over her tongue.
It was heavenly.
Berry didn’t even hesitate to pour a second.
“Not the same, but it might scratch a different itch,” Berry said, winking.
Celestia dove across the counter and pulled Berry Punch into a kiss.
“Make love to me!”
“Uhh, okay, Your Highness,” Berry replied, blushing. “But, ummm, here?”
A flash of light, and the room was now empty. The princess, the barkeep, and the opened bottle of Woodford Reserve Classic Malt had disappeared.
Luna trotted down the hall towards her sister’s room. Though the guards around her looked nervously towards her, she ignored them. They were likely nervous for the same reason she was, though they obviously laid the blame with her.
She stood outside the door to her sister’s room, the two guards on either side giving her a terrified glance.
“Guards, is Our sister in her chambers?”
“W-we don’t know, Your Highness. We did not see her come in, but there have been… noises… coming from inside since a few hours ago.”
Luna nodded. “Very well. Let Us through, We must see Our sister about raising the sun.”
The guards stood aside, and Luna opened the door.
The room smelled of alcohol and sweat. Closing the door to protect her sister’s sensibilities (and to stop any prying from the guard), Luna looked around the darkened room.
She had never seen her sister’s room so devoid of light. Illuminating her horn, she noticed a large lump under the covers of her sister’s bed.
“Sister, ‘tis time for thee to raise thy sun. Get thy rump out of bed and raise thy charge!”
“Go away, I have a migraine!”
“Thy subjects care not for thy migraine, they only fear that the Nightmare hath risen again,” Luna replied as she grasped Celestia’s duvet in her magic.
“Luna, don’t—”
Pulling back the duvet, she found Celestia entangled with a mulberry mare with grapes for a cutie mark. The smell of sweat and shame permeating the duvet stirred the air.
She looked in horror at the multiple sized and colored phalluses that lay on the silk sheets, dark stains dried into the expensive fabric.
Luna gently placed the duvet back over her sister and hurried for the door.
As she trotted past the guards, she muttered to them with a blush across her face.
“Our sister is unwell, please do not disturb her. We will raise the sun as soon as We can.”
