Chapter 1

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As the frosting and cake dripped slowly off his head, Prince Blueblood contemplated the conclusion of yet another Grand Galloping Gala, running down his internal catalogue for the particulars of the evening.

Let's see...Auntie Celestia's managed to introduce some form of chaos to an otherwise orderly proceeding...check. Granted, being covered in cake and nearly being trampled by various woodland critters is...certainly new. So...why aren't I enjoying myself? He took an experimental lick of the frosting that had worked itself into his coat. No, the buttercream icing is exquisite, as always. And the crumb of the cake is likewise delightful. Another detail occurred to him. In all the chaos that had been unleashed by his Auntie's student and her compatriots, he had lost track of his valet.

Turning to regard the chaos, Blueblood cast his eyes over the throng of ponies...stampeding seemed to be the most apt description for what they were doing. Various castle stewards were trying to get the Royal Menagerie under control, receiving various exciting scratches and bites for their trouble as they tried to herd the Menagerie from what remained of the Royal Buffet. Other ponies were dealing with various minor injuries sustained with a collapse of the reception hall...Blueblood made a note to himself to have a word with Auntie regarding the qualities of her architects. They were the rulers of Equestria, for Harmony's sake, and as Rulers, they were what everypony else measured themselves by. Having a castle built on questionable architecture and wishful thinking may not be the best idea. But still, Auntie loves her asthetics. And her games. What he did not see, however, was the one pony he was looking for.

Clearing his throat, he raised his voice and called above the tumult. "Concord? I say, Concord, are you out there?!"

Ears straining, over the hubbub, he heard his name. "Blue! Blueblood, over here! By the orchestra pit!"

Threading his way over towards the wreckage of the orchestra, Blueblood finally found his valet. The ability to keep a straight face, however, suddenly eluded him.

Concord was young, for a valet. Though, to be fair, Blueblood was also fairly young for a Prince. The blonde maned, green pegasus had been a fairly recent hire for Blueblood's household, a recommendation from Blueblood's former, retired valet. Old Hustler had dropped some hints that his grand nephew had received a discharge from the Royal Guard due to his injuries. Though the lamed right hind leg had barely slowed down Concord on hoof, and, though a pegasus and, consequently, was usually found flying when he wasn't sleeping, Royal Guard Regulations were Royal Guard Regulations, and they forbade any soldier who could not march with his comrades. Blueblood had hired Concord on the spot. The overall matter had worked out fairly well.

Until now.

"C'mon, boss, wipe that smile I know you can't hide off your face and help me out of this thing!" Concord lay supine on the floor of the orchestra pit, his head firmly wedged inside the flared opening of a sousaphone, one of his rear legs trapped under a fallen marimba, twisted at what looked like an uncomfortable angle.

"Hold on, Concord. It won't be but a moment."

Schooling his features into neutrality, Blueblood concentrated on his magic and lifted the xylophone off his trapped valet. With another effort of concentration, his aura wrapped around the sousaphone and, with a sound not unlike a plunger being pulled from a stuck toilet, Concord's head popped free. The pegasus stallion gave it a shake, his ears twitching experimentally. "Ah...Thanks, sir. While I like getting into the music, that took things to the extreme."

Blueblood snorted . "Well, I can't go through the trouble of finding another valet on short notice. I've barely gotten you broken in, after all." He nodded towards Concord's rear legs. "That's your bad leg, if I recall correctly. Can you walk?"

"Of course I can walk! I can-AGH!" Concord had struggled to his hooves, but the instant he put weight on his injured leg, it crumpled beneath him. Blueblood, anticipating this, stepped in close and caught the injured stallion with his shoulder. "Steady on, Concord. I've got you."

The pegasus blew bits of his mane out of his eyes. "Thanks, sir. I should be able to fly home. You don't have to cover me here."

Blueblood shook his head. "Nonsense. I can't have you ruining the landscape when you try to land and invariably plow your way through the lawn, or, Auntie Forbid, one of the fountains." Blueblood shrugged as the two stallions made their way to the gala exit, the unicorn supporting the limping pegasus. "At any rate, we'll have to collect the carriage. I can tow you back home myself."

Concord's eyes rose, his expression a mix of skepticism and reluctant acceptance of the aid. "you don't have to do that, sir. What about your image?"

"Nonsense. Duty flows uphill as it does down. What sort of a liege would I be if I abandoned one of my vassals?"

"Depressingly common, 'round these parts, sir. Did you wish to leave a note for the musicians?"

Blueblood paused, thumping the side of his head with a forehoof. "Oh dear. I suppose I would lose my own head if it weren't attached. Thank you for reminding me, old fellow. Would you mind terribly if I propped you up here against this pianoforte?"

Concord rolled his eyes as he was lent against the indicated instrument, gingerly favoring his injured leg. "Oh sure, I'll just try to keep from smudging it, shall I?"

Blueblood glanced at the instrument, then back at his valet. "Considering it has a hole large enough to stick your head through, I'm certain that would be the least of the musician's worries." Lifting a quill in his magic, Blueblood scrawled a hasty note on the back of a sheet of music. To the musicians: Should you need to replace your instruments, kindly direct any inquiries to House Blueblood. Sincerely, His Royal Highness, Prince B. PS: Your rendition of Clopland's Simple Gifts was superb. My compliments to your collective musicianship, and I shall remember your talents when next I host a soiree

Nodding to himself, Blueblood floated the note over to where it would be easily discovered by one of the musicians before helping Concord to his hooves. "Righto, let's get you back to the estate then, shall we? "

"Oh sure, boss. No arguments here." Concord did his best to limp along next to Blueblood, supporting as much of his weight as he was able. After they'd retreated from the chaos of the main hall, they found themselves in a deserted passageway. "So", Concord asked, with confounding innocence, "How was your Gala, Boss?"

"The Gala was most..." Blueblood considered his words carefully. His father had explained to him, repeatedly, from almost the time Blueblood could walk, that a member of the nobility should consider his words most carefully, as they could, counfoundingly, have different meanings to different ponies. It was one of the lessons that Blueblood had taken deeply to heart. But, really, the hardest thing at the moment for Blueblood, was coming up with an appropriate description for his reaction to the Gala.

"...Disappointing." Blueblood concluded.

"What, from the menagerie stampede and the...cake incident? Don't think I haven't noticed the fact you've got frosting in your mane still, boss."

Blueblood shook his head. "Nah, that was par for the course." He chuffed out a laugh. "You should have seen it last year. Auntie dropped something into the custard. The guard were up to their hocks in Banana Cream for a month."

Concord gave him a sideways look. "Wait a minute. You're telling me the Custard Incident last year...the one where half the Palace Regiment can't look at a dessert anymore without flinching...was the work of your Aunt."

"Yep."

"Princess Celestia?"

"Yep."

"The one who does the whole sun raising bit?"

"Do you know any another Princess Celestia?"

Concord snorted. "You know what I mean."

Blueblood grinned. "Oh, come now, Concord. What is the point of having plenipotentiary powers and all sorts of regal whatnots if you're not going to abuse it every now and then? Or, at least, that's what Auntie would say." Blueblood suppressed a shudder at the last time she'd told him that. There was a particular toilet back at his estate that would always smell faintly of bananas, no matter what his housekeepers did to it. Taking a deep breath, Blueblood continued. "There's always a certain percentage of the peerage who will use events like the Grand Galloping Gala to try and get one up on their peers and rivals, or to gain favor of Auntie Celestia."

Concord nodded. "Or her sister."

Blueblood nodded. "Or Auntie Luna. Though, to be fair, she's kept mostly to herself since she's...ah..."

Concord grinned. "The phrase that's most in use at the moment is 'Returned from Abroad', sir."

"Right. That. At any rate, Auntie likes to...what's the phrase? Ah...'Throw a spanner in the works', I think, every now and then. She says that it keeps the peerage healthy if they receive a surprise heart rate test every now and then." At this point, they had reached the front drive for the castle. Concord, fishing inside his vest, pulled out a claim chit for their carriage, which they handed off to one of the attendant stallions, who rushed off at once.

"So, boss, if it wasn't the nonsense with the menagerie, what was it?"

Blueblood ruminated, supporting his friend and valet as he did so. He was saved from thinking it by Concord's interruption. "Was it a mare? Was she good looking?"

Blueblood nearly cracked his neck as he whipped around. "What the hay do you mean? Oh...bother." He reached into his jacket and passed a bit over to Concord, who took it and stuck it into his own vest. The Pegasus failed spectacularly at suppressing his own smug expression as he pressed his conversational advantage. "So, was she good looking? Eligible? On the hunt for an eligible stallion to sweep her off her hooves?"

Blueblood gave Concord a very level look. "One would suspect you of being clairvoyant." He sighed and nodded. "All those things and more, it would seem. I took her to be another social climber, seeking to better her fortunes at the expense of my own."

Concord nodded at that. "Uncle Hustler told me of some of your issues in that regard. Certain mares in the peerage seem to regard you as a prize to be won."

"That's putting it mildly. If I were not more careful, I'm quite certain I would have been stuffed and mounted by some ambitious mare."

At his side, Concord gave him a sly smirk. "Rather than the other way around, huh?"

"Oh, hush." There was a pause in the conversation as the attendants arrived with his carriage. With their help, Blueblood managed to get Concord up into the open coach and himself shrugged into its traces. Pausing to pass a healthy tip into the hooves of the young attendants, Blueblood pulled the carriage away from Castle Canter, doing a creditable job, he thought, of keeping a steady pace. Once they were a few hundred yards from the castle gates and away from any potential eavesdroppers, he spoke over his shoulder to his valet. "Did your Uncle ever tell you of my first foray into the Gala?"

Concord had shamelessly propped himself up on the coach's cushions, his injured leg propped up and elevated. "Nah, he didn't. What happened?"

Blueblood repressed a shudder at the memory. "I was rather openly and firmly propositioned by the Duchess Petunia of Blackwater Fen. And Lady Belladonna of House Bougainvillea. Fortunately, I managed to play the two off of them against each other."

Concord's eyebrows rose. "But...both of them are in their sixties, aren't they?"

"They were in their fifties at the time. I had just gotten my Cutie Mark. I must have been about twelve or so."

Concord gave a low whistle as he shifted himself around, sitting in the foremost coach seat backwards, so he could look forward and so he wouldn't have to shout to be heard. "Ah. So that's why you do it."

"Do what?"

"Don't play innocent. Uncle Hus told me that much, at least. Let me see if I get things right." He began to tap out marks on the coach's frame, tallying his points as he did so. "You attend the Gala. You find a young, eligible mare there, one who's clearly angling to get herself hitched, if not to you, then somepony of roughly equal clout, fortune, and renown.. You get her slightly interested. And then, you act like the biggest, most insufferable, spoiled jerk ever born to dissuade her from pursuing you. All in the name of ensuring that you can pursue marriage on your own terms and weed out the decent mares from the vamponies."

Blueblood felt his own eyebrows climb up in surprise. "A most succinct summary. Your Uncle Hustler is ever the keen observer."

Concord nodded. "He also told me it was the most stupendously bone-headed, idiotic, ham-hoofed way to go about accomplishing your goals."

"What?!" Blueblood jerked his neck around in shock, and, consequently, nearly swerved the carriage into a lamppost. Getting himself and the carriage under control, Blueblood couldn't help letting a note of petulant grumbling enter his voice. "He never said a thing about it to me."

"He told me that it was something you'd figure out on your own, in time." Concord shrugged apologetically. "Regardless, I think he might have had a point or two."

"How do you mean?"

"Well..." Concord was silent for a moment, ordering his thoughts. "First of all, any mare who was only interested in your title and fortune wouldn't stop just because you were the biggest jerk this side of the Badlands. No offense, boss."

"None taken. Please continue."

"Second, assuming you did find a decent mare, most of them would quit pursuing you, and mares talk to each other. About everything. So, eventually, all the decent ladies of the court..."

He trailed off, letting Blueblood continue the thought "All the decent mares would give up, leaving me alone with the sharks and social climbers."

"Yep."

"Not to mention", he continued, as a new, mortifying thought paraded through his mind, "I will have probably crushed the dreams and hearts of quite a few good mares for no good purpose."

"Also true, sir."

Blueblood tugged the cart in silence for a pair of minutes, it's weight seemingly heavier. "It appears that I owe some ladies a great number of apologies."

"Starting with this most recent one." Blueblood could hear the grin in Concord's voice as he spoke. "So, what's she like? Who was she?"

"You know, I could invite you to walk home."

"You wouldn't, sir. For one thing, I'd just fly back. And when I tried to land, I'd aim for your bedroom window rather than the lawn. Plus, you'd be alone with your thoughts, answering the same questions I'm asking you, except you wouldn't have the insight of your clever and intelligent valet at your disposal."

"Not to mention your legendary humility." Blueblood added, drily.

"I won't mention it if you don't. So, who was she?"

Blueblood recalled more of what happened over the course of the evening, adding pieces together. "She's a unicorn mare. White coat, blue eyes, violet mane and tail. I haven't seen her at court before, that's for certain. And I'm reasonably certain she was in Auntie's student's entourage, which leads me to suspect she's a Ponyvillain."

"I doubt the Guard would let an actual villain attend the Gala, sir."

"I meant that she was a resident of Ponyville." Blueblood responded, letting impatience creep into his tone. "Though she did have a remarkably regal bearing. Not to mention taste. I couldn't place her ensemble, either."

"Ah, I think I know who you're talking about. My cousin Bulk moved to Ponyville a few years back. Evidently there's some seamstress mare out there trying to make it big in fashion. That sounds like her. So, what happened?"

"Oh, the usual. I was the perfect boor."

"And she left in tears, I suppose?"

"No." Blueblood mused, his tone one of curiosity. "She actually called me out on my behavior. Quite effectively and categorically, I should add."

"That's not that uncommon. I mean, if you didn't have me around, I shudder to think of how fat & swollen that head of yours would get."

"Ah, but it was part of our agreement when I hired you that you would treat me as an equal, and that you were perfectly free to speak your mind to me, albeit in private. Furthermore, most mares in the court are trying to seek my favor. They're always unfailingly obsequious and fawning."

"Whereas this lady stood up to you."

"Yes. It showed uncommon courage and intestinal fortitude."

"Well, like you said, she's not from around Canterlot. Ponyville is pretty cosmopolitan, but it's still out in the sticks. Plus, she's got her own business. You don't get to that point without a certain amount of determination and guts."

"Fair point. Hmm..."

Concord sat upright. "Uh oh."

"What? What is it?"

"I know that look." Concord pointed an accusatory hoof at Blueblood. "You've got your thinking face on. Thinking about that mare."

"Friend Concord, I am merely a foppish noble. I exist to maintain my family's holdings and sire progeny. Thinking sounds too much like hard work."

"Don't try to change the subject. You're dwelling on her, aren't you?"

Blueblood pondered Concord's words for a minute, finally able to put a hoof on what he was feeling: Guilt. She was a beautiful mare, there was no denying that. And while she obviously had been out trawling for a Husband, she clearly had no idea about the intricacies of court politics or culture. What knowledge she lacked, however, she certainly made up for in grace, poise, and, he had to admit to himself, a talent for puncturing arrogant windbags, all qualities that he admired. And he'd trampled all over "Yes...yes I suppose I am." He turned to look over his shoulder. "Tell me, Concord. Have you ever been in love?"

The pegasus grinned. "I happen to be, yes."

"You have my deepest condolences."

"No need for that, sir. Daisy happens to be the prettiest mare I've ever laid eyes on, and she's fun to be around." His tone turned wistful. "I haven't seen her since a few weeks after I got discharged and you hired me. She says she's putting in a transfer to the Palace guard after she finishes her current hitch, but...well, being apart sort of stinks."

Blueblood considered that for a minute before asking, tentatively, "How did you know when you were in love with her?"

"Sheesh, Boss, you don't ask the easy questions, do you?" Concord sighed and thought for a minute. "I'm not sure there was one point where either of us realized it. We both just kinda bumbled aimlessly into falling head over hooves for each other."

Blueblood sighed. "I envy you, Concord. It seems like you've got it much easier than I do in that regard."

"Hey boss, if you ever want to trade, just let me know. I'll take that massive fortune & land off your hooves for you."

"Hardly." Blueblood snorted derisively. "Should I wish to see half the realm descend into fire and chaos, I may take you up on that offer." He pulled the carriage in silence for a few more minutes, thinking. Then, nodding, he spoke. "Tomorrow, we're going to Ponyville. I wish to make amends. And perhaps I can start things off on the right hoof."

"Hah! So what's your plan?" He waved one of his forelegs expressively, his voice deepening to a parody of romance and smolder. "Behold, my dear mare, my idiotic behavior was merely a ruse to protect my fragile heart from being broken. Here I cast myself at your hooves, wishing to gain your affection and beg forgiveness for my foolish behavior." He snorted with laughter. "Boss, if I were any sort of scoundrel, I'd be selling tickets to this."

"If nothing else, it would give the mare an opportunity to hate me for who I really am." As he spoke, they rounded the corner and started up the main drive towards the family estate. A tasteful three storied affair, the mansion was not overdone, like some of the older estates in this part of Canterlot were. It didn't advertise it's wealth so much as mention it quietly to passers by, and while it may not have been as ostentatious as the estates of the newer members of the peerage, it and the grounds upon spoke of their wealth, but made mention of their integrity and taste as well.

"I'm with you, boss. If nothing else, it'll be fun to watch."

"Thank you, Concord. I'm overwhelmed by your support and enthusiasm." Blueblood rolled his eyes as he drew the carriage towards it's awaiting garage.

Concord grinned at that. "It's what friends are for, boss."

***

Later that evening, after getting Concord out of the carriage and into bed, securing his valet's solemn promise to accompany him to Ponyville, Blueblood sat in his study, a set of military dispatches in front of him, alongside a snifter of brandy. After consulting a pair of reports, he set them aside and lifted a quill in his magic, composing a letter.

Dear Auntie Celestia,
My most heartfelt congratulations on another successful Gala. The presentation of your faithful student and her entourage, I am sure, helped perfect orchestrate this evening's escapades.
I am writing to let you know that I will be traveling to Ponyville tomorrow with my valet, should you have need of my services.
I would also, humbly, request that we expedite a certain Lance Corporal Daisy Chain, of the 181st Baltimare Infantry Regiment, to the Canterlot Palace Guard. I have impeccable references for her character, and I am certain she would be an asset to our regional command.

I am, as ever, your nephew and at your service. BB

Satisfied, Blueblood wrapped the Dragonfire enchanted scroll tightly and stuck it into a candle. The scroll flared and then vanished in a flash of emerald fire.

Satisfied, Blueblood tossed off the last of his brandy and then blew out the candle, making his way towards his bed. Tomorrow was another day, full of opportunity.

Chapter 2

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Dear BB,
Thank you for your kind words regarding last night's Gala. I feel I must pass on my own congratulations as well, upon the occasion of you becoming acquainted with one Rarity Belle, a friend of my Faithful Student and resident of the very town which you will be visiting. Having spent the evening post-Gala with her and her companions, I am sure you will not be surprised to find her to be a mare of impeccable poise, manners and character, and industrious, as she is the proprietor of Carousel Boutique, an Up and Coming name in the world of fashion.

Should your paths cross again, I recommend your apology to contain legendary amounts of taste and sincerity. As a seamstress, Miss Belle is in possession of a worrying degree of pointed instruments, and it would be a shame if my favorite nephew were to resemble a pincushion.

Safe Journeys, and write often.
Your friend,
Tia Tia.
P.S.: Pending confirmation of her qualities, it would be my singular pleasure to grant your request regarding Lance Corporal Chain's transfer. This may be of excellent news to a certain valet in your employment.
P.P.S: Your Auntie Luna humbly request and requires you to pick up a pound of rhubarb custard hard candies at Ponyville's local confectionary and says, quote, "Go Get 'Em, Tiger."

Celestia sat back from her desk, regarding the letter she was about to write to her nephew, checking for obvious typos, phrasing, and even the meter. Though she had fond memories of the infant Blueblood growing up, spending time with the young colt as he matured into a stallion of breeding and refinement, she could still see the infant colt in the adult he had become. Or perhaps, she thought to herself, he was becoming. True, Blueblood was an able steward of his family's estates and fortunes. And he had taken one of the lessons she had attempted to instill in him at a young age to heart: The lofty position of the Royals existed, to be sure, but it existed to elevate those lower than they were, by example and by action.

"Let us see your missive, Celly." Luna spoke over Celestia's shoulder, her blue eyes perusing the letter. A millennia exiled to the Moon had not dampened Celestia's memories of her sister's habits, and she sensed a question lurking close under her sister's surface. It only took thirty seconds of silence for...

"A question, Celly. Why has our nephew not simply bludgeoned the object of his affection and carried her back to his hovel?"

Celestia's mind provided her with an image of Blueblood's face had he heard of his family estate, comprising several acres on the outskirts of Canterlot and a magnificent four story manor house, as a "Hovel", not to mention the reaction to the Canterlot Society Pages if any member of the peerage were to begin engaging in Percussive Courtship.

Or worse, if it were to begin catching on. Goodness knows, Celestia had enough on her hooves dealing with the nobility as they were. The last thing she needed was for them to become collectively dumber by dint of repeated concussions sustained during the mating process.

"Times have changed since you were away, Luna. It's considered more..." Appropriate would have been the most apt description, but given Luna's irreverent streak, that particular word choice might inspire her recently returned little sister to greater feats of questionable sanity. "...Fashionable for stallions to woo mares by presenting them with gifts, sharing their interests, and giving tokens of affection."

Luna frowned. "But...Tia, how am I to judge the suitability of a mate then? If he is not brave enough to confront me in single combat, nor possesses the strength to heft a cudgel, then what good would he be in the bedroom?"

Nope! Not touching that one! Divert her attention! Celestia waved a hoof, airily. "Oh, you're a clever filly, Luna. I'm certain you'll figure out a way that won't involve sustaining a concussion." An idea occurred to her, and she gave a thoughtful look to the west. "If I remember correctly, there is currently at least one battalion of the Palace Guard undergoing their physical fitness review out on the parade grounds. Perhaps you should inspect-" Celestia's voice cut off as Luna sped by in an indigo and violet blur. "WhatabrilliantideaTiadon'twaitup!"

Celestia shook her head as she sipped her tea, sending the letter intended for her nephew on its way in a blaze of emerald fire and wondering if Luna was about to set events into motion that would necessitate any sort of mediation, arbitration, or long term therapy for members of the guard. Sighing, she decided that was Future Celestia's problem, and helped herself to the cronut that Luna had abandoned.

⚜⚜⚜

Blueblood read his aunt's letter for the fourth time that morning, and the second time since he and Concord had boarded the train to Ponyville. Rarity Belle he mused to himself, rolling the name around in his head. It certainly seemed to fit the mare, equal parts elegance and uniqueness.

"You're thinking about her again, aren't you, Sir." Concord grinned at his employer from across the compartment, his eyes merry.

"Hardly." Blueblood grumbled, settling himself into his seat. "I was merely contemplating how stiff these cushions were."

"Gee," Concord mused, "If only you knew the pony who owned the railroad. You could write him a letter, or something."

"Now now, be fair. I only own thirty percent of the railroad. That's hardly the whole enchilada." Blueblood shrugged. "Fancy brought up that point at the last board meeting, but I had to turn it down as an official line item as our treasurer assured us we would have to increase fares by five percent. Given that would have increased costs for ponies who rely on the railroad for commuting as well as those who use it to ship goods, Fancy, myself and the other board members agreed we should keep the seats as they are." Blueblood sighed. "I am merely regretting not requesting that my personal rail car wasn't attached."

Concord rolled his eyes. "Well, you did want to remain incognito, sir. A half-furlong of chrome and brass tends to draw a crowd."

"Oh, I admit it's hardly practical. That does not obligate me in any way to like it." Blueblood poked the seat cushion he sat on, wheels turning in his mind. "Remind me when we get home, I've a proposal to put forward to Fancy regarding the cushions. I may have a solution to the seat problem."

Concord nodded, fishing out a notepad from his vest and consulting a calendar. "I believe you and the gentleman are scheduled to play zesta punta next Tuesday at his residence. Would that be an opportune time?"

"Perfect. I presume my basket has been properly mended?"

"And reinforced. It arrived yesterday morning."

"Excellent. How's the leg, by the way?"

"Oh, fine." Concord grimaced and stretched the limb experimentally. "It's sore, but it'll serve."

"Good, good, I'm glad to hear it. I couldn't bear it if I returned you to your mare in a worse condition than you were received." Blueblood nodded out the window as the train began to slow. "Looks like we're about to arrive."

⚜⚜⚜

The two stallions stood on the Ponyville station platform amid a rapidly dwindling crowd of commuters and porters. Concord glanced over at his employer, who was regarding the town with an arched eyebrow. Concord smiled. "First time in a small town, boss?"

"Hardly. I've spent time in a number of charming villages and hamlets." With a nod, Blueblood stepped off the platform, levitating his suitcase in his golden aura.

Concord stepped off after him, shrugging his saddlebags up. "But near Canterlot." He pressed, confirming a theory.

Blueblood nodded, smiling. "Indeed. They're charming places, away from the hustle and bustle of the city."

Concord glanced around, his worst fears confirmed as ponies out on their daily errands stopped in their tracks to look at them. "And...you wanted to remain incognito, right?"

"Indeed. This is why I am engaging in the bucolic practice of carrying my own luggage and giving your back a break," He bobbed the suitcase in his magic by way of demonstration, "As well as wearing this cunning disguise." He gestured to the brown tweed suit and matching flat cap he wore with one hoof between steps. Concord, like most stallions, considered himself rather oblivious to the world of fashion, but he was fairly certain that Blueblood's chosen outfit clashed magnificently with his mane and coat.

"Fair points, boss. But, let me circle back to something here...Is this your first time in a small town where you wouldn't be recognized on sight?" By this point, the clusters of ponies had started to stare at the two strange stallions in undisguised curiosity. Some of them, mostly mares, Concord noticed, were following the two of them from a discrete distance, chatting quietly with each other. Of all the times to have a Special Somepony...ah well.

Something in Concord's leading questions seemed to have gotten through Blueblood's noggin. He glanced around and started to note the same things Concord had already done. "Ah...oh dear."

Concord gave him a rueful grin. "I would have said something if I thought it'd make a difference. Shoot, I was actually hoping that I was wrong." Having grown up in a town not unlike Ponyville, where a newcomer would be Scrutinized¹ and Interrogated²
_{1: Albeit with varying degrees of subtlety}
_{2: With approaches ranging from Outright Hostility to Detailed and Sincere Inquiries Regarding The Stranger's Background and Interests, the latter of which Concord had seen result in no less than three marriages.}

Blueblood paused and considered his valet. "Concord, if I did not trust your judgement, I wouldn't have hired you in the first place." One of his blond eyebrows arched imperiously. "So, Concord, how likely is it that Miss Rarity knows of our arrival?"

The pegasus considered that for a second. "Probably still fairly slim. She's a working mare, and an industrious one at that. Odds are good she's shut up in her shop, either working with a client or on new material."

"So, if I were to show up with, say, flowers, it would probably come across as a bit forward, wouldn't you say?"

"Like a freight train. Loaded with Dynamite. On Fire. Careening off of a cliff, sir."

"Your visual imagery is rich as always, Concord." The aristocratic unicorn frowned, then began looking around town. "But it might provide a reasonable contingency."

"Uh huh." Concord, rather than watching the gaggle of mares watching them³ was instead watching Blueblood. "So, you're gazing around town looking for a flower shop."
_{3:They can smell fear, he reasoned. ⁴}
_{4: He was right.}

"That's right."

"And not because you have no idea where this mare lives."

"Nonsense. I've merely...well, yes, you've got me there."

"So all this talk about flowers was just a pretext to make casual inquiries about her."

"Basically."

Concord rubbed one of his temples with a forehoof. "Boss, we'll get things done a lot faster if you quit beating around the bush." He nudged his boss with an elbow and nodded at a storefront. "C'mon. This seems like a decent spot to make inquiries about your lady. That and I haven't had breakfast yet."

⚜⚜⚜

Applejack whistled to herself as she puttered around with her apple cart filled with baked goods. Granted, she had managed to offload the pies, brown betties, strudel, pies, danishes, muffins, cupcakes, tarts, pies⁵, and cookies with Doughnut Joe at a steep discount, but Granny Smith had been her usual industrious self and produced more with their considerable stock of their namesake fruit for the local Ponyville custom. Granted, she thought to herself, the proceeds from last night's...Escapades weren't quite as profitable as she'd dreamt, but she'd elicited a solid promise from Doughnut Joe that he would tell everypony he sold her wares to where he'd gotten them and, more importantly, where they could be found again and acquired in exchange for bits.

With a sigh, Applejack looked over the ledger she'd brought with her, considering the farm's financial outlook. With that venture last night, we're...well, as much fun as Ah had last night afterward, it weren't no successful excursion. And that puts us behind for this month. Rubbing her head with her forehoof, she pondered the Marketplace. It was a little too early for the Lunch Rush, but there seemed to be a crowd gathering, following a pair of bemused stallions who trotted through town. That's odd, she thought, consulting the Weather and Events calendar she had tacked to one corner of her stall, We're not scheduled to have a parade or musical number until Thursday afternoon. Ah wonder what all the commotion is?One of the stallions, a white coated unicorn wearing an absolutely horrible brown tweed suit and a peaked cap pulled low over his eyes, seemed to be following the other, a green coated pegasus stallion who...who...

Years later, Applejack would vehemently deny anything of the sort, but to her, in that very moment, the green pegasus walking towards her was bathed in a ray of sunlight, tiny flowers sprung up in his hoofprints, and a choir of breezies sang hymns of praise about his flanks, his muscles, and the broad wings folded at his sides. He strode towards her, confident, despite the limp he carried in his right rear leg, and said The Words, The Words she had been waiting for, The Words that she had hoped a Handsome Stallion would say to her from the time just after she got her cutie mark and started to think that maybe colts merited nearly as much interest as apple farming.

⚜⚜⚜

"Excuse me miss, We'd like two apple fritters and directions to Canterlot Boutique. My friend here is in desperate need of a new suit." Concord gave the blonde earth pony mare a friendly smile, passing a hoofful of bits from his saddlebags onto the stall counter. He kept the smile on his face as the mare stared at him, her mouth slightly agape, her eyes wide and pupils dilated. After a half minute, he started to grow concerned and waved a hoof in front of the mare's face. "Hey. Hello in there? Anypony home?"

⚜⚜⚜

He's talkin' to me!

He's trying to buy stuff from me!

Say somethin' ya empty headed fool! Quit droolin' at him like a durn fool!

Applejack shook herself, abruptly aware of just how long she'd been staring at the stallion's handsome features. "Ah, right. Two apple fritters, comin' right up." She turned to where she kept her wares, paused, and turned back, arching an eyebrow. "It...it was apple fritters, right?"

The stallion nodded, his expression one of mingled concern and caution as he spoke. "Are you alright, miss...?"

"Applejack. And sure, Ah'm alright. Jus' had a late night is all." She turned back and, using tongs held in her mouth, filled two small bags with a fritter each, which she placed back on the counter. Great, now he probably think's Ah'm some sorta backwoods bumpkin with barely two brain cells to rub together. So much for that one, AJ. She kept any trace of dismay from her face, instead putting on her Best Customer Service Smile and said "Ah ain't seen y'all 'round here before. If'n you don't mind my askin', where are y'all from?"

The pegasus glanced back over his shoulder. "Just got in from Canterlot. Now, if you don't mind, miss, could you point us towards Carousel Boutique?" He nodded towards his taciturn partner, who glanced away, keeping his cap pulled low over his eyes. "My buddy here needs a new suit."

Applejack gave a low whistle, eyeing up the suit. Though her world of fashion began and ended with the hoof-me-down stetson she wore, an occupational hazard of being friends with Rarity meant that she could recognize a fashion atrocity without it blowing a tuba and breathing fire in front of her. "Lan' sakes, yer not kiddin'. Down the main street yonder, take the second left, and you can't miss it."

"Thanks, Miss Applejack." He reached into his saddlebag and hoofed over a slightly smaller amount of bits, giving her a friendly wink. "Take care of yourself, ok?"

"Sure thing. Thanks for stoppin' by!"

He ain't no regular customer! Git his name, filly! Git his name or you're gonna regret it!

Ah ain't in no state to get all twitterpated over some stallion, even if Ah could bounce a bit off o' them flanks.

Bits? Right, he paid in...Celestia's Crawfish!

⚜⚜⚜

As Concord turned to leave the obviously addled mare, she called out. "Wait! Wait a minute!" She came around the stall at a dead gallop, and Concord had a brief vision of an orange coat, flying blonde mane and tail, and the scent of apple blossoms, lavender and fresh cut timothy hay before he was flattened by a near panicked mare. She stood over him, breathing hard, and managed to gasp out "You fergot your change!"

At a loss, Concord summed up the grand total of his massive reservoir of wit from his days in the guard, and responded "...Huh?" Off to the side, Blueblood seemed to be choking on something. Concord decided to file that away for later, once his boss earned some suitably petty revenge.

Blushing, Applejack stepped back and gestured to the stall. "You didn't give me a chance to give you your change."

Wincing as he came to his hooves, Concord shook his head. "Consider it a tip. If those fritters taste as good as they smell, they're worth every bit."

Applejack rubbed a forehoof into the ground, suddenly bashful, and wishing that the ground would swallow her up and save her from embarrassing herself. Again. "Aw shucks, just some down home cookin' is all." She gave him a sly look. "But if nothin' else, Ah'd like to have yer name. Seems only fair, as I gave you mine."

Relief crossed Concord's face and he nodded. "Seems only fair. Call me Concord." He gave her a wink which Applejack firmly told herself did not make her heart go Pitter Pat, and then turned to leave. "See you around sometime, Miss Applejack.

⚜⚜⚜

Once they were safely out of earshot, Concord glanced over at his employer. "Oh go ahead, you know you want to laugh."

"Oh no" Blueblood shook his head, poorly restrained mirth lacing his words, "Far be it from me to get in the way of your paramour's affections."

"Hah!" Concord shook his head. "If my luck holds really true, somehow Daisy's going to hear about this, and then I'll have Tartarus to pay."

"Flowers?" Blueblood asked, curious.

"Jewelry, at least." Concord corrected, glumly. "Don't get me wrong, she's a sweet filly. But she's got a temper something fierce."

"Don't worry, my faithful valet. My lips shall be sealed regarding your, ah, 'side piece', I think the expression is."

Concord sighed as they rounded the corner, catching sight of the large building that was, unmistakably, Carousel Boutique. They paused, considering the building's construction, and Concord glanced aside at his employer.

"Nervous, boss?"

"Terrified." Blueblood said, his expression serious. "Scared beyond all reason." He took a deep breath in through his nose, letting it out slowly. "But that's the time when you must act. Come, friend Concord. Once more, into the breach."

And, acting at least forty times bolder than he felt, Blueblood strode towards the front door.

Chapter 3

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Rarity sat in her workshop, considering the bare ponnikins standing around her, their mute audience her only companions in the creative process.

Almost.

"Hey Rarity! Me and Applebloom and Scootaloo are headed out to Sugar Cube Corner! Do you want us to pick up anything for you?" Sweetie Belle called as she led a small, loud freight train cleverly disguised as the other Cutie Mark Crusaders downstairs, making enough of a racket to drown out Rarity's creative muse. Taking a deep breath through her nose and suppressing a sigh, Rarity shook her head and turned to regard her younger sister and her partners in crime. "No, thank you, Sweetie Belle. I'm on the cusp of my new fall line, and must be left undisturbed!" And, after the binge at Doughnut Joe's, if I never see another cruller in my life it will be too soon. She turned and gave her sister a fond smile. "You go on and have fun. And remind Pinkie for me that she needs to hang her dress! I simply cannot abide wrinkles!"

Instead of charging through the front door in pursuit of Cutie Mark related glory, Sweetie and her friends stopped and traded a look with each other before Sweetie tentatively asked "So, how was the Gala last night?"

"Last night was..." Drat. How can I be honest with Sweetie and at the same time not crush the dreams of a young filly? Rarity's mind cast about for a word that would fill the need and landed upon..."Memorable. Exceptionally memorable."

"Did you meet that stallion you've had your eye on?¹"

Ugh... Rarity thought to herself, did I ever! And good riddance, too! Out loud, she said. "A lady does not speak of such things, dear little sister. Besides", she added, hoping that this would head her curious sibling off on another line of questioning, "I don't want to think about Stallions at the moment! I've got designs to focus on! Now shoo! Off with you! And be home by sundown!" She called, returning to her sketchbook, an idea for a daring new dress and hemline practically demanding to be drawn before the muse left her.

_{1: Sweetie Belle was no stranger to her older sister's habits, and had decided this was a more tactful expression than "Constructed a Shrine To In Your Bedroom". Particularly since, by Sweetie's count, Rarity had at least two different shrines established and, given her older sister's habits of watching Thunderlane on the weather patrol, was about to establish a third.}

"Looks like you might not have much of a choice, Miz Rarity." Applebloom piped up from the window, staring out front. "You've got a couple of stallions on their way in."

"At least they're handsome." Scootaloo chimed in, studying the two approaching stallions with a curious eye.

Overcome by curiosity at her friend's comments, Sweetie Belle joined them at the window. "And one of them really needs your help." She glanced back at her sister, her expression earnest. "I don't know fashion like you, sis, but the suit he's wearing...well, you'll see in a moment."

Well, if I must get a handsome stallion's measurements, I must, Rarity thought to herself, ruefully. A seamstress' life is all but dull drudgery. "Oh, very well. Try not to trample over them as you're leaving, girls." Rarity called absently, floating an array of measuring tapes from her work bench in preparation for her next upcoming clients. If this doesn't get that Blueblooded Boor out of my thoughts, I don't know what will.

⚜⚜⚜

"How do I look, Concord?" Blueblood gave himself a final once over.

"Like an affront to the fashion sensibilities of a generation, boss."

"Perfect." Blueblood raised a hoof to knock on the door, but before he could, the door slammed open, catching him full in the face and knocking him flat. A trio of fillies dashed out, trampling over the prostrate stallion. The last one, a white unicorn filly with a pale lavender and pink mane and tail stopped and considered what she and her friends had done. "Hey mister, are you alright?"

"Maybe you should get offa his stomach first." Applebloom suggested diffidently from one side.

"Oops! Sorry mister!" She scrambled to one side, while the slightly flattened unicorn was helped to his hooves by his green pegasus companion, who was suppressing a good deal of inner merriment. "Are you ok, sir?"

Blueblood took a deep breath, making sure his lungs still worked. "Oh, I'm fine, fine, thank you, young miss." He glanced at the door that hung open, curious. "Is Miss Rarity Belle in?"

"Sure! She's just working on her new fall line, or something. Go on in."

Concord glanced over at Blueblood. "If you don't mind, I'll wait out here for you, sir. I don't want to get in the way."

Blueblood nodded, steeling himself. "Righto." And with that, he strode through the front door, shutting it behind him and leaving the grown pegasus and three fillies staring after him.

Concord glanced aside at the trio. "I'm guessing Miss Rarity doesn't entertain...ah...gentlestallion callers very often?"

Sweetie Belle pondered, and then shook her head. "No. She really doesn't." She cast a glance at the door herself, and then back over at Concord. "Is this your friend's first time calling on a lady?"

Concord considered that for a minute. Granted, his employer and friend was suave and self assured. But he had some fairly large blind spots as far as the fairer sex was considered. "Yeah. At least, since I've been working f...with him."

There was a silence between the three younger ponies and the one older one, before Scootaloo asked "Wanna listen in on them?"

⚜⚜⚜

Blueblood shut the door behind him, his heart racing. Here it is. When I can start to make everything right. So why am I so nervous?

"Just a moment, darling, I'll be right with you!" Rarity's voice called out from a back room, customer service courtesy turned up to eleven.

Blueblood swallowed against his dry throat. "N-no need to hurry, madam. I'm in no rush."

He busied himself eyeing up her establishment. Granted, Blueblood preferred to put his money to work for him in the form of investments, but judging by the creative disarray around him, Rarity's business was a pleasantly bustling one, though he could scarcely discern a rhyme or reason to any semblance of organization.

"Ah, and now we're ready to begin! What can I do for you, sir?" Rarity's entrance was preceded by four bolts of cloth, bobbins, skeins of thread, and a pincushion full of needles held in her aura. She was humming distractedly to herself.

She's so beautiful. So poised. So...waiting for you to speak! He kicked his brain into gear. "Oh, I was hoping I could acquire a new suit. And give you an apology."

"An apology? What do you have to-" Rarity stopped in mid-bustle to give her attention to her customer. "YOU." Her voice had something hard, serrated, pointy, venomous and, quite possibly, on fire in it. "After LAST NIGHT, you DARE show your face HERE? Wearing THAT?!?"

Maybe I shouldn't have worn the suit. Blueblood thought, starting to "I...well, I came here to say I was-"

"Sorry?! Rarity laughed, an edge of hysteria to her voice. "What makes you suppose that a simple 'Sorry' was going to cut it?!"

⚜⚜⚜

Outside, Sweetie Belle glanced up at Concord. "So, that's Blueblood?"

"Yep."

"The stallion my sister's been mooning about for the better part of the last six months."

"You'd be the better judge of that than I would."

Scootaloo frowned at that. "She doesn't sound like she's all lovey-dovey about him."

All four ponies, young and old, flinched as something heavy crashed against the wall of the Carousel Boutique.

"Yeah...I think Blue might have stepped in it last night." Concord considered the three young fillies for a moment. "Still interested in listening to their" he paused as something else heavy crashed to the ground inside, a percussive counterpoint to the melodious sounds of an angry mare with a full head of steam and the whimpering yelps of the object of her ire. "...conversation?"

Applebloom glanced in the window. "Ah give it at least another hour 'fore they're done."

"Probably two." Sweetie Belle nodded, sagely. "The last time I saw Rarity like this, she carried on until she got hungry, and it's at least two hours until lunchtime." At that, a trio of small bellies rumbled loudly.

Concord nodded at that. While he had some nagging doubts about leaving Blueblood at the mercy of the fair lady Rarity, and though he had always considered himself a brave, stalwart stallion who never left a friend behind, this was no rampaging hydra or out of control bugbear, or even a monstrous dragon₂. Still, this was not a conflict in which a wise stallion inserted himself.

_{2: Though, Concord would later reflect, the parallels were eerily similar.}

"Tell you what. Why don't we go trade notes and get something to eat." He nodded back towards the boutique, and ignored the sounds of his friend begging for mercy. "On my pal's bit."

Three sets of wide, eager eyes stared at him, radiating a sense of anticipation that would only have been exceeded had Concord promised a surcease of homework and the distribution of brand new Cutie Marks.

⚜⚜⚜

"...so, he decided to come here and apologize for his behavior." Concord concluded, taking the opportunity to finish the second of the two fritter's he had bought earlier that morning, savoring the juiciness of the apples married to a perfect blend of sugar, spices, and more sugar.

The trio of fillies contemplated Concord's story, as well as what remained of the small mountain of baked goods that lay before them.

"It all sounds like one of my big sister's romance novels." Sweetie Belle glanced over at her two friends. "You know, the ones I told you about. In her 'Private Stash'³."

_{3: Contrary to Sweetie Belle's assertions, what she had found was simply Rarity's Semi-Private stash, the one which she left easily discovered in case she wanted to lend some books to her friends or throw nosy little sisters off the scent. Rarity's Private Private stash, on the other hoof, contained a great deal of books that were short on story, plot, and character development, though she would argue that they certainly had plenty of Artistic merit.}

Concord arched an eyebrow. "Romance Novels?"

Sweetie Belle nodded. "They weren't very good. Nothing like Daring Do. Lots of boring pages about kissing." She shook her head. "Anyway, they're all the same." She shoved two cupcakes forward with her hooves, then shook one. "I hate you!" She spoke, in a high, squeaky voice. She shook the other one, this time giving it as deep and booming voice she could "I hate you too! I can't stand the sight of you!" Then she shoved them apart. "And then they spend half the book brooding on the other one, and then one does something nice for the other, and then..." She mushed the two cupcakes together at high speed, smattering all four ponies present with frosting.

"OooooOOOoo! Are we having a FROSTING PARTY?!" Before Concord could clear the scattered crumbs of cupcakes from his face, he was confronted by what he was certain was far too much pink before he was nearly suffocated by more buttercream icing than he was aware existed.

From outside the pink, he heard a somewhat familiar female voice. "Consarn it, Pinkie, if you're gonna declare a Frostin' Party, you cain't bring that there cannon to it. It's just too overpowerin'!"

"I can't help it Applejack! If I don't fire it every other day or so, the breech gets gummed up something fierce and then I won't be able to do anything with it! And a Frosting Cannon that doesn't fire is about as useless as...useless as...Help me out here, AJ, the euphemisms are more of a you-phemism thing."

"How about 'Like Wheels on a Tomato.' Now come on, let's git 'em out of this mess." Concord felt a pair of strong hooves hook around his barrel, and with a sucking sound, he was pulled free from the gripping frosting and came face to freckly face with a pair of green eyes.

"Oh!" Applejack let go of the stallion, blushing fiercely. "Ah'm sorry, Ah didn't...you were...frosting covered..."

"I'm fine, miss, but I do appreciate the help." Concord summed up whatever dignity he could muster and gave her what he thought of as his kindest smile."And it gives me a chance to say I was right, your fritters were excellent."

Applejack's psyche, meanwhile, was undergoing a bit of a crisis.

Here he is again! And covered in Buttercream Icing! Have a Taste!

No! Ah got some dignity, after all.

He liked the taste of your fritters, maybe you should offer him a taste of something else you have?

"PIES!" Applejack shouted, blushing even more. "Ah mean...we also make pies, if you'd like to take one home with you."

"Well, I don't...Oh dear." Concord's hazel eyes were drawn from Applejack's green ones to the front door of the Carousel Boutique and following a parabolic arc. "I think I will take you up on that, miss, if you'd just-LOOK OUT!"

Panicked, Concord grabbed Applejack and dragged her out of the trajectory of a beribboned Blueblood, who came crashing through the front window of SugarCube Corner headfirst and didn't stop until he met the front counter of the establishment. Applejack's heart raced as Concord steadied her before he moved over to the comatose unicorn noble. "Hey boss, you ok?"

Blueblood's eyes were crossed, and his voice cracked as he gazed blearily around the ruined shop. "Concord! My dear friend...why are you pink?"

"Long story, boss. I take it the young mare wasn't, ah...receptive to your apologies?"

"The wedding's on a Wednesday, and everything's arranged." Blueblood made airy conducting motions with his forehooves, both his eyes staring in different directions. "Soon her name will change to mine, unless her mind is changed." He tried to get to his hooves, found himself unequal to the task, and threw one of his forehooves against Concord for support. "Concord, yer all sticky. And Pink. Why are you pink, Concord?"

The pegasus stallion glanced over at Applejack, long suffering written on his face. "Miss Applejack, I would be happy to relieve you of three of your pies, if you'll help me get my boss back over to the Ponyville train station. I don't think he's in his right mind after meeting with one of your boon companions."

"Ah see." Applejack was considering the punch-drunk unicorn stallion with a critical eye, torn between cool indifference on behalf of her friend and her maternal instincts screaming for her to find the poor stallion an ice pack. "Ah suppose I could help you out." She gave a sly look at Concord, fluttering her eyes. "Fer a date, Mister Concord."

"I...um..." Concord glanced at his boss, who was humming Ride of the Valkyries by Wagoner under his breath, and back to Applejack, who was smiling innocently. Concord sighed. "Miss Applejack, you're a lovely young mare, your baking is beyond compare, and I do need to get him", he said, nodding towards Blueblood, "Over there." He concluded, nodding towards the train station. "But currently my heart belongs to a special mare. As tempting as your offer is, I wouldn't be worth much if I betrayed her trust." He hung his head. "If you won't help me for that, that's fine. But I'd rather be honest with you and not lead you on for something."

Applejack took the news better than she herself expected. "Ah...shoot, Mister Concord. Ah suppose ah owe you an apology. Ah barely knew ya and Ah was ready to...nevermind." She shook her head, smiling. "C'mon. Let's git lovercolt here back to the station." She moved to the other side of Blueblood, supporting him between her and Concord.

Concord's eyes rose. "You're still going to help?"

"You were honest with me." Applejack glanced over at him, still blushing. "An' as much as Ah wanted you to tell me what Ah wanted to hear...that means a lot to me. So, consider this as my way of sayin' thanks." She shot him a hard glance. "Provided you pay for the pies, that is."

Concord nodded, grinning. "That and more. Plus damages to SugarCube Corner caused by my boss'...um...Kinetic Entrance."

"That's right decent of you." Between the two of them, Applejack and Comstock managed to support Blueblood out of the front door of SugarCube Corner.

"So, you got a special mare in your life, huh?"

"I suppose so, yeah. Though it's been a few weeks since we've seen each other. But I miss her a lot."

"Well, Ah suppose she's a lucky mare to have a stallion like you in her life."

"Thank you, Miss Applejack, but I'm just an average stallion. I'm pretty sure she's deluded into believing things about me that really aren't so."

"Ah wouldn't be too sure about that." Applejack gave him a smile. "There's few enough stallions out there who'd be honest about that. They'd just let a filly help them out and then ferget all about her. Yer a good 'un, Concord."

Concord smiled, blushing himself. "I suppose I'll have to take your word for it, Miss Applejack."

"Ya kinda have to. Element of Harmony and all that."

"Gotcha."

"Ah got one more question fer ya, Concord."

"Fire away."

"So, is this the same Prince Blueblood that gave Rarity such a hard time last night?"

Concord sighed. "So, let me explain what my boss was doing. Even if it was the dumbest thing on Equestria..."

And as the sun reached its zenith over Ponyville, Concord began to relate the story of Blueblood's side of things to Applejack as the three ponies staggered their way to the station.

Chapter 4

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Blueblood became gradually aware of motion beneath him as his mental faculties returned to him. He cracked his eyes blearily open and regarded the familiar looking pegasus sitting across from him.

"Hey, looks like you're coming back into focus, boss." Concord hefted a bag of ice cubes in one hoof over to his companion. "Here, you'll want this. You're looking like you're growing a second horn."

"Thank you, Concord." Blueblood winced as he hefted the bag and held it to the growing lump on his head with his magic. "So, did you enjoy Ponyville?"

"Decently well. Though I don't think I made the same impression in town that you did." Concord grinned, his eyes twinkling. "At least in the local stores. There's a counter in Sugar Cube Corner that's got your face pressed into it."

Blueblood suppressed a groan and pressed the ice to his head even harder. "I was afraid of that. What was the damage?"

Concord waved a dismissive hoof. "All damages paid for, with more besides to cover discretion." Concord glanced out the window, contemplating the passing scenery. Blueblood, for his part, reveled in the coolness of the ice against his aching head. At least, until Concord innocently asked "So, how'd your conversation go with Rarity?"

"She threw me through two walls, Concord. Not to mention a window. How well do you think it went?"

"I figured. Well, better luck with the next one."

"Next one?" Blueblood's tone was curious. "What do you mean, 'the next one'?"

"Well..." Concord stretched the word out, "I presume, since she's...well, not interested seems a bit of an understatement..."

"That I'd break off my pursuit? Seek greener pastures? Get out while I still can?" Blueblood smiled ruefully at his companion and gazed out the window, watching the scenery glide by. He paused to consider his next words carefully. "No, Concord, she has proven herself to be a mare of commendable spirit. And integrity."

"So, she figured out you were being an idiot from the get go?" Concord grinned sardonically.

"To an extent. But not for the right reasons."

"So, she just saw you for the pompous ass you were being, and you'd rather you hate her for who you really were?"

Blueblood was silent for a moment as he pondered his servant's reaction. "Well...she was uncommonly accurate in her assessment of me, despite not a chance to get to know me. She, quite rightly, pointed out that I knew nothing of building something up with my own hooves, for instance."

Concord frowned, thoughtfully. "How did that come up in conversation?"

"'Conversation' implies an exchange of words. I could barely get a word in edgeways while the fair Rarity was enumerating my physical, social, and intellectual traits. Or should I say, shortcomings."

"Nonetheless, my question stands, boss."

"Well...I suspect that by that point, she was raving slightly. But in her tirade, she hit a few accurate marks. She is right. I don't know what it takes to build something on my own."

"If you want to help me paint my O & O miniatures sometime, you're more than welcome, boss."

"No...tempting as your figurines may be, I might have to set my sights on a slightly loftier goal."

"Fair enough. What'd you have in mind?"

"I'm...not sure. I will have to ponder that."

And with that, the two of them lapsed into a companionable silence.

⚜⚜⚜

The journey by train back to Canterlot took another two hours, by which point the effects of the concussion had worn off enough that to the point that Blueblood could string two sentences together coherently. Rather than returning home, however, however, Blueblood made a beeline for his normal refuge from the day to day drudgery and failings of day to day life.

He went to The Club.

Technically, it was The Most Distinguished Order Of Businessponies Club, but as that was a bit of a mouthful to get out with a straight face, Blueblood and most of the other members who had not ossified or were old enough that other ponies worried they'd died in their armchairs preferred to refer to it as simply The Club.

At its core, The Club was a refuge for the working stallion, where he could unwind from the drudgery of running a business without inflicting the stresses of that job on the people in the club members lives. And, Blueblood reflected, as he opened the handsomely crafted wood doors, I can pick the brains of some stallions who might be able to give me the advice I needed. Oh Sure, He thought, as he passed down the dark-stained wood-paneled walls, taking in the casing on the ceiling and the walls as he mounted the stairs, Concorde is a good and honest pony, but he doesn't have the position of a station to consider. And while I don't consider that to be important, I would be foolish to discard that without sounding out my friends.

The main club lounge was mostly unoccupied, save for two of Blueblood's most trusted cronies. Fancy Pants, immaculate in his coat and tails, stood at the window, watching the ponies of Canterlot hustling to and fro on the streets below. "- but I cannot see why pricing something at five cents below the bit would cause ponies to buy something more. Oh, I say, Blue old chum." Fancy gave a warm and genuine smile as Blueblood took a surreptitious seat at one of the armchairs in the lounge. "Good to see you! And how was Ponyville?"

"Enlightening." Blueblood said, appropriating a snifter of brandy proffered by a steward and taking a small sip. "I must say, Filthy", he said, turning to the third of his cronies, "Your hometown is most hospitable towards outsiders." He turned back to the steward, hoofed him a small pile of bits, and said "Pardon me, my good chum, but could you fetch me a cold, moist towel?"

"Of course, Mister Blueblood."

Filthy Rich, in the middle of packing his rather fine briar pipe, arched an eyebrow and gave Blueblood a rather wry grin. "There's nothing like a good Ponyville Welcome. Tell me, did you have the full parade, or was it just the garden variety pie fight?"

"Neither, I'm afraid. I fear I've gotten rather entangled with one of the fairer of the town's residents."

"Oh dear." Filthy rolled his eyes good naturedly, puffing on his pipe and his expression sympathetic. "Who was she, and do I need to update my insurance rates?"

"Oh nothing of the sort, dear colt." Blueblood waved a hoof, dismissively. "At least, provided you have no stake in Sugarcube Corner or anything owned by the lovely and talented Miss Rarity Belle."

"Ah, that one." Filthy nodded, smiling appreciatively. "She has a fine eye for fashion, that one. And a good mind for business. She's been good enough to allow me to sell her overstock and unsold merchandise in our stores. Outside of Ponyville and a season behind, mind you, but that's better than a poke in the eye with a stick." He arched a brow at Blueblood, his expression sly behind his pipe. "I must say, however, I can't imagine how she caught your eye. Or where."

"I can." Fancy Pants chimed in from the window, a smile spreading behind his moustache. "I attended the Grand Galloping Gala this year as well, and I distinctly remember the mare in question pinning the ears back of a particularly obtuse and self important stallion."

Blueblood nodded, floating the damp towel the steward provided over and spreading it over his head. "Yes, that might have been me. I made the mistake of playing my Overweening Self Important Git bit, and might have done it on the one eligible mare in Equestria that it wouldn't have worked on."

"I see." Fancy strolled from the window, a smile still on his features as he took a seat in an armchair across from Filthy. "And I take it from the prodigious bruise on your face and the cold towel you're trying to cover it up with, you still intend to pursue the filly."

"You appear to have the idea surrounded, Fancy." He levitated the washcloth up, eyeing the mustachioed unicorn stallion balefully. "Truthfully, how bad is the bruise?"

"Hardly noticeable. But that seems to be beside the point."

"Indeed", Filthy said, grinning. "So, what's your plan? I'm guessing you tried the direct approach, which led to the aforementioned contusions?"

"And some property damage, which has already been paid for." He sighed and let the towel drape over his face again. "What I really need is a way to to impress on the young mare that I know what it means to build up a business on my own. And that's going to be tricky."

"Well, you're not wrong there, friend." Filthy nodded as he sat back in his chair, his eyes distant. "I know you've come by your wealth honestly, but there's a pretty big difference between managing ponies and managing mountains of bits. No offense."

"None taken." Blueblood frowned under his towel. "Though I could use those bits to some purpose, however." He arched a brow and lifted the towel back up, giving Fancy a look. "I wonder, Fancy. That filly of yours keeps you pretty well keyed into the world of fashion, doesn't she?"

Fancy smiled, a faraway look in his eyes. "Oh, that she does, old bean. But I won't be any good at wooing the young mare on your behalf. Played wrong, that's a hand that might wind up costing me mine and you yours."

"No, that's not what I had in mind." Blueblood frowned, an idea starting to congeal in his pulverized brains. "But that does put you in circles that I wouldn't have an excuse to to travel in. Do you suppose that you could be a cut-out, should the dear Rarity find herself with an...anonymous investor?"

Filthy leaned forward at that, puffing at his pipe. "You'll have to be careful with that, both of you. The mare in question is uncommonly shrewd and perceptive. And as the Element of Generosity, if she was found taking advantage of that particular element, it would bring suspicion on the whole Elements at all." He puffed for a minute, letting that sink in. "Go ahead, by all means. But you need to try your hoof at something...drastic, I think."

The two unicorns leaned forward, Blueblood levitating the towel off of his head. They traded a look, before Blueblood turned back to Filthy. "Drastic how, old friend?"

Filthy shook his head as he sat back. "Gentlestallions, I know the mare. She's a standing weekly order at my flagship store for five pounds of ground coffee, a flat of tinned cat food, and, during fashion season, two gallons of Death By Prench Vanilla Fudge Ripple ice cream. I've talked with her. She's built her fashion business from the ground up. Her own blood, sweat, and tears go into every design she makes, even the ones that don't sell." He glanced between the two of them, his expression earnest. "Neither of you really knows that that means. Not at a gut level, where a bad season means you're eating pre-packaged noodles for a quarter." He sat back, puffing at his pipe, watching his words effect on Blueblood and Fancy. "Despite her bearing, she very much has an earth pony's ethic. Every bit of work she does, she cares about. Even, and especially, if it's unsuccessful." He pointed a hoof at Blueblood. "What that means is, old colt, is you're going to have to meet the mare on her own terms. She won't recognize you unless you know, from your hooves to your hocus poker, what it means to run a business."

Blueblood pondered that, curious. He's...he's not wrong. He thought, with some consternation. "Supposing that you're right, and I'll be willing to admit that you are." Blueblood said, with the air of a pony testing the frozen ice over a pond to see if it will bear his weight. "What would you suggest?"

Filthy smiled, his pipe clenched between his teeth, as he rubbed his forehooves together eagerly. "I've got just the plan."

Chapter 5

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"Ah ain't opposed to the idea, Rares. But what Ah gotta know is, why did you, of all ponies, wanted to go to a Food Wagon meet."

Applejack gave her friend a close look as the two mares walked into the Ponyville town square on a glorious Saturday morning, the earth pony mare hauling a wagonload of apples and a pair of small butts of cider.

"Darling, what you simply haven't considered is that this is one of the premier trends in Equestria." The fashionista gave her mane a toss, smiling as she did. "The Food Wagon trend isn't just a passing fad. It allows ponies with talent but little capital to establish their own restaurant to get their hooves in the door and show off their talents. And it is there where one can find the new and emerging flavors and excellence in modern cuisine." She sighed, her smile deflating somewhat. "That, and, since it was I who convinced Mayor Mare to allow the food wagons to set up here every other Saturday, I feel responsible...no,...compelled to see just how it turns out."

"Right." Applejack felt her eyebrow raise almost unconsciously, following an intuition. "And Ah suppose that the interests of influencers...such as, say, Trenderhoof," Applejack was not disappointed as Rarity nearly tripped at the mention of the name, "...seeking out new trends in Equestria are completely absent from your mind?" Ah gotta remember to give Apple Bloom a thank you for passing on Sweetie Belle's gossip, the earth pony mare thought to herself, relishing the shock on her friend's face.

"Of course not!" Rarity recoiled in practiced shock, though the blush on her face gave lie to her feelings. "Why, I could care less about what some puffed up, self important, wildly influential, handsome..." She trailed off momentarily, lagging behind Applejack for a minute, taking a moment to wipe the drool from her mouth. "Anyway", she continued, as if nothing had happened, "my personal feelings aside, I would like to see how the event goes off, if for nothing else, than I would like to make sure it is nothing short of a triumph."

"Ah can understand that, Rares." Applejack nodded, negotiating the corner with the wagon, and smiling to herself. "And Ah want to make sure it's a success too, just like..." Applejack's voice trailed off as Ponyville town square came fully into view, packed to the gills with Food Carts of every size and description, ranging from wheeled, humble charcoal grills and fold out tables for condiments to a couple full blown monstrosities nearly the size of small buildings, complete with folding awnings to provide diners with shade. Between the carts, hordes of ponies thronged, either waiting in line for their orders, cheerfully munching on food, or carrying on conversations with friends and relations. There were many ponies, Applejack realized, that she didn't know on sight, and she reasoned they must be from out of towners attracted to the spectacle.

And the smells. The wind shifted, coming in off the Everfree Forest, and brought with it smells of everything that was being steamed, grilled, broiled, baked, sautéed, braised, fricasseed, spit roasted, or otherwise cooked by applying heat to food. Exotic spices, too numerous and tantalizing to name competed with the aromas of more familiar cooking, and her stomach let her know in no uncertain terms that she should immediately sample some of the wares.

The two mares stopped to take in the spectacle before Applejack turned back to Rarity. "Well sugarcube, Ah can be pretty sure this counts as a resounding success."

A fey light lit Rarity's eyes as she smiled, her expression just enough on the side of propriety to keep from being described as "Smug". "Isn't it though? Come on! Let's grab lunch. My treat!"

Applejack rolled her eyes. "You're on, but nothin' too fancy, at least for the moment." She nodded over toward a nearby cart, where ponies were coming away with greasy brown paper sacks that appeared to be filled with oatburgers and fried pickles. "This looks promisin'. Ah ain't had fried pickles in ages!"

⚜⚜⚜

"Thanks for coming to Blue's Burgers! Come back soon!" Concord passed a greasy bag over to the nearest set of customers before he called back over his shoulder. "How's that order with the two Number Fours coming, boss?"

For his part, Blueblood had never quite known stress just like this. The orders had immediately started coming a few short minutes after he and Concord had started setting up their hastily painted, second-hoof food cart. Over the last day or so, with the help of Concord and the castle kitchen staff, Blueblood had managed to learn how to fry oatburgers passably enough to serve to other ponies, and he'd managed to handle a chef's knife well enough that he could slice onions and tomatoes with out being a danger to himself and others. Concord's family recipe for deep fried pickle bits had been a masterstroke addition, with the battered briny morsels keeping ponies coming back for more, though Blueblood still regarded the deep fryer with no small measure of trepidation, with a burn on his right forehoof having reached the "Nearly Unstoppable Itching" stage of healing.

But what was really driving his blood pressure higher was the constant rush of orders. It was one thing to fry up oatburgers and onions for himself, Concord, and, once they'd stopped laughing and had sworn to the strictest confidence, Fancy Pants. Now, there were ponies waiting on him, and, given the fact that no sane pony would recognize him in a greasy apron and his blonde mane in a paper hat covered by a net, there was no social pressure to just let him go at his own pace. As it was, he was just keeping up with orders, but only at the low, low cost of his Sanity, Composure, and his general sense of goodness toward everypony. And, to top it off, he hadn't had a chance to get a thing to eat for himself since breakfast.

Still, he had to put on a good front for Concord and any other ponies who might be watching. He mustered a smile for Concord. "Just coming off the grill now. How's the line looking?"

"Pretty good, boss. Looks like we're through the worst of the lunch rush." Concord bustled over and carefully lifted a basket of pickle chips out of the fry oil, giving them a shake. "Gotta keep these coming, at least."

"I'd be the first to admit, Concord, your recipe's excellent." Blueblood managed to float a chip from the basket, shook it a few times, and then popped it into his mouth. "Your grandmother must have been a fine cook."

"One of Cloudsdale's finest. Whoop! Here we go." Concord turned back to the order line and ducked his head out of the window. "Welcome to Blue's Burgers, can I take your...Miss Applejack! Miss Rarity! Welcome!"

Behind him, Blueblood nearly fumbled the spatula in his magic field, the burger he was assembling nearly winding on the floor of the wagon.

⚜⚜⚜

Since Applejack seemed to be frozen with a look of slack jawed amazement, it fell to Rarity to carry the conversational torch. "Mister Concord? What are you doing here?" She raised an eyebrow at the pegasus, her expression guarded. "Did that...that...scoundrel of a master fire you?"

"No, no, I'm still working for him. More or less."

Blueblood decided that this was the moment to bring his newly completed order to the next window. "Order up! Two number fours combos, with extra mayo on one, hold the onions on the other!"

A pair of ponies approached to take their order, which Blueblood thanked them for, and then turned back to the two Element Bearers. "Ah, Miss Rarity. Good afternoon. What can we get for you?"

Blueblood took the full minute of stunned silence by both mares to properly appreciate the expression on Rarity's beautiful features. The way her mouth hung agape, how her right eyelid twitched nervously, and, despite her indigo mane being moments ago perfectly set, at least one lock of hair had sprung out of alignment.

Applejack was the first to recover, shaking off her earlier shock at seeing Concord, though she was still blushing furiously. "Yer Highness? What are you doin' flippin' oat burgers?" She glanced around, as if looking for hidden cameras. "This ain't one of your Auntie's Practical Jokes, is it?"

Solemnly, Blueblood took off his paper hat and held it to his chest, the effect ruined somewhat by his hair and hat being somewhat rumpled in the process. "Kind mare, unfortunately, no, though one could see how that might be the case. As was pointed out to me recently, I have vanishingly small knowledge of how the majority of Equestrians live. I'm simply broadening my horizons, so to speak." He replaced the hat on his head and gave the two mares a smile, trying to muster more confidence than he was feeling. "So far, it has been rather...enlightening."

While he was talking, Rarity seemed to get a measure of herself, smoothing her mane out and managing to close her mouth. Her eyes, however, had narrowed dangerously, and she was muttering under her breath. "Enlightening, he says..." before trailing off into a low rumble of discontent.

Concord cleared his throat. "What can I get you ladies?"

Applejack considered the menu for a moment. "Ah'll have the haycon barbecue burger with a side of pickle bits. Rares?"

Rarity's grumbling trailed off as her eyes snapped from Blueblood to the menu and back. "Tell me, Your Highness', she said dripping acid. "How long have you had an interest in being a fry cook?"

Blueblood bristled briefly, but smoothed it over. Temper, old colt. She's smart, and probably knows this is just an attempt to gain her favor. Tell her the truth. "For a while, actually." Blueblood answered, honestly. "Though my family maintains investments in various culinary entities, I'd always been fascinated by how one manages to transform base ingredients into something delicious."

Rarity raised one delicate indigo eyebrow. "So, this has nothing to do with how I called you an insufferable pig and chewed your ear off two weeks ago?"

Applejack caught Concord's eye and casually nodded to the side of the wagon. The pegasus, sensing danger, quietly retreated from the windows, lest he wind up between an irate unicorn mare and the subject of her ire. Blueblood, for his part, decided to continue his honest streak. "I would be lying if I didn't say that your words caused me to view my interest in a new light. That said, this is just a happy coincidence."

A humorless smirk played across Rarity's features. "So, you consider yourself a cook now, do you?"

Blueblood's own expression faltered. "Well...I'm not perfect, but I'm not bad."

"Right." Rarity glanced over at the menu, then turned back to Blueblood. "I'll have a yin-yang animal style four by four on a raft, dragged through the garden, and make it cry. And a small side of fried pickles." Into the stunned silence, Rarity gave Blueblood a grim smile. "Did you get all that, your highness."

Blueblood's eyes flickered back and forth for a second, he opened his mouth, closed it, and then asked "White, whole wheat, or sourdough for your toast, Miss?"

"Sourdough."

Blueblood still looked a little unsure of himself, but he nodded. "Sounds good. Have it out in a jiffy."

Rarity smiled and nudged Applejack to one side. "We'll be over here. Thank you, sir."

Sputtering, once they were out of obvious earshot of the two stallions, Applejack rounded on her friend. "Where on Equestria did you learn all that, Rares?"

Rarity tossed her mane, looking pleased with herself. "My grandfather is a short order cook, Applejack. I spent most of my earliest years in his kitchen while mother and father were busy working, and he taught me much of what to look for."

Applejack cast a glance back over at the food wagon, her expression sympathetic. "Don't you think you're being a little hard on him? He might be genuinely tryin' ta better himself."

"Well, he wouldn't have to do very much to improve on what's gone before." Rarity sighed. "Applejack, you can't understand what it's like. I suppose..." The pale unicorn slumped in on herself, somewhat self aware under the earth pony mare's reproachful gaze. "If I'm being honest, darling, I suppose I only have myself to blame. I'd seen him in the society pages and the magazines and, I suppose, I might have have, in my own teensy little way, built him into some sort of paragon of masculine vritue."

"Ah always told you those novels would rot your mind, Rares." Applejack quipped, unable to restrain herself.

"HOW DID YO-" Rarity coughed into one hoof and composed herself. "You know Applejack, it's entirely possible that my little sister should learn to keep her mouth shut around your little sister."

Applejack smiled. "Jus' doin' all Ah can to live up to the element of Honesty. But no fair dodgin' the subject." She put a hoof on Rarity's shoulder. "Speakin' of bein honest, Ah gotta ask: Are you more angry with him fer how he treated you at the Gala, or with yerself for what you expected outta him?"

"I...well, I suppose..." Rarity sighed again. "I suppose the latter, rather than the former. Although", Rarity said, with a dark look at the food wagon. "A gentlestallion should really treat a lady better than that. He was a positive boor."

"Well, Ah can't deny that." Applejack patted Rarity on her shoulder again. "An' Ah suppose he might have done the same for you too, come to think of it."

Rarity shot her friend a sharp, quizzical look. "Whatever do you mean, dear?"

Applejack shrugged, gesturing over towards the wagon again, where the stallion in question was just visible assembling a burger in the back of the wagon. "Well, like ya said, he's an extremely eligible and visible single stallion, and he's not too bad to look at too. He's gotta be beatin' fillies off with sticks at every available social function there is." Applejack winced slightly. "Ah don't mean no offense when Ah say this, sugarcube, but you're a very talented fashion designer from a small town. But all he might'a seen is a mare desperate to better he social standin' by marryin' into some highfalutin' high society family."

Rarity cocked her head to one side, her eyes wide. "Oh...Oh dear Celestia! I...well, I must have looked like a fool." She straightened up, putting steel into her spine, wearing an expression Applejack associated only with the most dire of fashion emergencies. "I should apologize for my behavior! At once!" She turned back to the wagon, striding over with her head high, her tail hiked, and Applejack in tow. "He may have been rude, but I shall be the bigger mare!"

Applejack sighed. "And then maybe you'll apologize for launchin' him halfway across the town into Sugarcube Corner?"

Rarity gave her friend a withering stare. "Of course not!" She kept striding forward. "At least, not right away. It would hardly do for a lady to be beholden to a gentlecolt of any stature."

Applejack rolled her eyes. "Oh, of course. How could Ah ferget?"

By the time they got back to the food wagon, Blueblood was just sticking his head out the Order Ready window. "Order Up! I have one haycon barbecue burger and large pickle bits!"

Applejack snagged the greasy brown bag from Blueblood's magical aura. "Thank ya kindly, Yer Highness." She turned to Rarity, who, despite her earlier display of courage, was now looking away and fussing with her mane, distracted. Applejack nudged the unicorn mare with her hoof, causing Rarity to start.

"Prince Blueblood." Rarity began, haltingly. "I...I would just like to say-"
"Here you go, Miss. One half well done, half rare, four patties fried in mustard, with extra cheese, fried onions, and spread, on toast with everything and extra onions." Blueblood nodded, his expression frazzled but satisfied. "Oh, and small pickle bits."

He floated the bag of greasy food over to Rarity, who absently took it with her own magical aura, wearing an expression of baffled incredulity that Blueblood, Concord, and Applejack would remember for the rest of their days.

Rarity, staring in openmouthed surprise as her train of thought derailed and went careening through her mental countryside, glanced between the bag she held in her aura and Blueblood. "I...you...I'm...WHAT?!"

Blueblood shrugged absently. "I know that there are some differing definitions on Animal Style burgers, whether it means the patty is just fried in mustard or if it comes with the extra spread, fried onions, and cheese, but I preferred to err on the side of caution in this case." He gave her a nod. "I know that my previous attempts to apologize for my rude and boorish behavior were, understandably, rebuffed, but as a tangible token of my apologies for poor, ungentlestallionly behavior, please accept this meal on the house, as it were."

Rarity stared, then floated the monstrous quadruple burger with everything on it out of the bag, as well as the small tray of pickle bits. "I...I don't know what to say." She trailed off, staring at the greasy, artery clogging goodness she held in her aura, before Applejack swatted her with her tail.

"Except 'Thank You'." Rarity added in a rush, blushing. "I must admit, I did not expect you to get this right."

"Well," Blueblood said, shaking his head self depricatingly, "Don't thank me until you've tasted it. It might not be entirely done correctly." He nodded. "Until next time, my lady."

Applejack was concerned by the change in mood her friend had undergone in the last few minutes, swinging from righteous indignation to abashed chagrin. What worried her more, however, was that Rarity seemed to float from Blueblood's words, almost like the burger she held in her aura did. Her voice, too, had that sort of dreamy quality that Applejack had learned to associate with drama, creative outbursts, and taffeta.

"Of course, kind sir. We shall speak, anon."

And with that, she turned, and Applejack followed, more out of a sense of intense curiosity. "Rares? What was that?"

Rarity turned and regarded her friend as if seeing her for the first time. "Oh! He managed to get it right!" Rarity waved the burger in her aura before Applejack, running the very real risk of splattering the earth pony with grease and errant gobs of special sauce as they made their way back to Applejack's cart. "I don't know how in Celestia's Flaming Fetlocks he knew, but he got my order right!" Rarity took a bite out of the floating burger, and moaned in obvious pleasure. "Oh, Luna's Luminous Locks, he can cook!"

Over the years of their acquaintance, Applejack had become a keen observer of her friends. Rarity tended to display the appetite of a particularly anorexic hummingbird, never partaking in anything much heavier than an egg white omlette or a wedge salad on any of the occasions that they had eaten together at a restaurant. To Applejack's shock and amazement, however, Rarity began devouring the burger with all the zest and gusto of a ravenous timberwolf into a deadfallen oak. Judging by the sounds of Rarity's obvious pleasure, Applejack reasoned the unicorn would react in much the same way if somepony tried to sample a piece of the enormous oatburger that hung before her.

For her own part, Applejack fished her burger out of the sack and took a bite. Instantly, her tastebuds were treated to the hearty oat patty, the zesty part sweet, part spicy tang of barbecue sauce, the rich haycon and all carried on a raft of sharp cheese that melted and bound the whole affair together. Nodding in appreciation, Applejack spoke through a full mouth. "Ah'll say he can."

Rarity turned watering eyes over to her friend, her mouth full of burger. "Mmmphofml mrrglmlmfmfg! Hrmmlfffpfthl blglf!" She paused, gesturing to her throat, her face turning red.

Applejack thumped Rarity on the back with a hoof, and the unicorn managed to swallow the large mouthful of burger that had been lodged in her throat. "Ah...thank you, darling. It's quite un-ladylike to choke."

The Long Way Round

by Snaproll

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5