> Fluttershy, Royal Game Warden (?)
>  by JimmySlimmy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue: Well, I Mean, Could Be Worse. Could Be Rarity.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The doors of Canterlot Palace domiciles are, on average, three hoof-widths thick. When one is required to be made, they are fashioned exclusively from old-growth heart pine, reinforced with iron bands along the hinge plate, gilded, treated with strengthening spells, and hung on anywhere from ten to fourteen separate hinges. The frames are similarly sturdy, with three distinct hardened steel strike plates, a magically welded seamless door stop, and, for strategically important doors such as those on the royal bedrooms, a set of twenty-six dead bolts on the perimeter of the door, such as might be found on a bank vault. They are, in a word, robust.

The fact, then, that a size twenty-four gold-shod hoof had just blown through the lock was a decent indication that someone important was at least a little bit angry.  

“YOU SENT HIM WHERE?” The Royal Canterlot Voice was a tool. Sometimes it was the bishop’s crook, which inspired reverence and awe from all present. Sometimes, it was the parliamentarian’s gavel, which guided and admonished an unruly house of law. Right now, it was a cannon filled with grape shot.

A blue lump stirred from underneath a set of moon-speckled covers, followed by a completely incomprehensible guttural utterance as the second half of Equestria’s diarchy retreated underneath a pillow. Her efforts were entirely in vain, however, as a white hoof snatched the blankets from the bed and launched them across the room, leaving Luna exposed to the furious glare of her sister with naught but a stuffed batpony for company. Had it been in any other circumstance, it would have been sickeningly cute. 

“ANSWER ME LUNA. WHERE. DID. YOU – ”

The groans of her sister had become slightly more comprehensible, coalescing into something resembling the word “what.”

“ – SEND. THE. GRIFFON. AMBASSADOR.”

Finally, at least three of Luna’s neurons had begun to fire, and she eventually comprehended at least some of what her sister was asking. “The Griffon?”

“YES.” A wall mirror shattered.  

“Whither was he sent?”

“YES.” A painting fell off the wall. 

“Ah. No reason for concern, dear sister. Our honored guest, as he was quite famished, asked for the whereabouts of our palace butchery.  As we have no such facility, we offered the use of one of the Royal Forests for his usage in order to secure a fresh kill.”

“SISTER.”

“Yes ‘Tia?”

“WE –” A crack had begun to spread worryingly down a wall. Celestia wasn’t particularly concerned about the structural integrity of the palace, but plasterers were expensive, and the royal treasury had seemingly sprung a leak as of late. “ – We do not have any more Royal Forests. We haven’t had any in 800 years.”

Luna’s eyes flashed with glee. “Ah, but dear sister, we have managed to locate one final such property in our demesne!” With a powerful flap of her wings, Luna threw herself out of bed, making the conversation at least a little bit more respectable, even if one side of Luna’s mane was more than a little stuck to the side of her face. “Whilst it initially seemed that thou had indeed removed every one of the game Forests from the property of the crown, thou seemeth to have forgotten our most valuable property of all, the glorious rolling plains that did surround our former capital!”

Ah, yes, there was that particular plot of land. Truly, the sisters had kept the finest game lands for themselves, and, for a moment, Celestia was swept back in time, back to the glorious rolling plains and groves that the sisters had painstakingly wrought from the raw forest, back to the thrill of a hunt. Celestia hadn’t thought of her wilder days in some time, and, in retrospect, it really was an exceedingly pleasant set of memories, a set which was almost enough to distract her from the current situation at hand. 

Almost.  

“Luna, are you talking about the crown property around the Castle of the Two Sisters?”

“Correct, sister.”

“Luna, that’s the Everfree Forest. We haven’t sold it because we can’t.”

Luna only now remembered that the ruined castle surrounded by lethal woods she had awoken in after the Nightmare’s confrontation with the Elements was, in fact, that castle. In her defense, she had been rather indisposed at the time.

“Ah. We see the issue sister. ‘Tis most unwise to descend into such unregulated wilderness without considerable preparations.”

“Quite. Now, when does the ambassador leave? I’m sure he’ll be disappointed by the news that we have no such game land available, but I’m sure he will understand the circumstances.”

“Oh, the Ambassador has already left, sister. We believe he would have arrived in Ponyville a few hours ago.”

Celestia decided in that instant that plasterers were an acceptable expense.

“WHAT.”

Luna shrank slightly from the volume of close range Royal Canterlot Voice, but it wasn’t enough to break her stride.  “Oh! But worry not sister! We sent him to rendezvous with our appointed Gamekeeper!” 

“HE’S WHER – wait, what? You sent him to whom?” 

“The Gamekeeper of the Royal Lands. Surely thou must know thine own warden? ‘Twas a highly prestigious position in our days, though we must admit that, judging on the state of the royal lands, it would seem the warden is not doing an exemplary job.”

“Luna, we don’t have any wardens either.”

Luna scoffed. “Dost thou take us as somepony who would do no research, sister?”

“Yes,” Celestia deadpanned.

“Then thou must be sorely mistaken. We did find not ten hours ago that one of our subjects was indeed in service to the crown as a warden, and by the personal appointment of nopony less than thine own recently ennobled pupil. Surely, this pony must be a figure of considerable repute.”

“Ah, Luna, where did you see this appointment?”

“In the ‘Official Record of Crown Lands and Gamekeepers Therein,’ sister, as is correct. Shall I summon it such that we may inspect it together?”

“No need, I know the one.” With a cacophonous “FWOOM,” a truly enormous tome fell onto the table. Celestia flipped the book over and opened the back cover, exposing the final page.

Luna pointed with a hoof. “See sister, right below Masters Watchful Eyes of Trottingham and Quiet Steps of Oxhoof? Thy student’s appointment is there. Truthfully, we have been craving the thrill of a hunt, and would really quite like to speak to– ”

Celestia could only look on in abject horror.

“– this Mistress Flutter…Shy…of Ponyville. Oh.”

The sisters locked eyes. 

“Shit.”
> You Remember The Previous Chapter's Title? Yeah, Oops.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“THUD-THUD-THUD”

Fluttershy’s door reverberated with heavy knocks. At eleven-thirty in the morning, that would be Rainbow Dash hiding from her work supervisor. At nine-thirty at night, that would be a certain stallion coming for a surprising but very welcome visit. 

At five-thirty in the morning, that probably meant somepony had a dying animal.  

Fluttershy took a moment to clear the sleep from her eyes before fixing her face in the appropriate look of concerned compassion. It didn’t exactly embolden confidence in a desperate pet owner to be met with a dreary faced pegasus with truly prodigious bags beneath her eyes, and thus it was only after a quick peek in a mirror to confirm her appearance did she throw open the door to meet her patient.

“Please list the symptoms in order of severity that you’ve noticed in your – griffon?” She looked up from her clipboard.  Rather than the weepy-eyed pony she expected to find, Fluttershy’s welcome mat was currently occupied by an immaculately groomed and impressively plumed elderly griffon adorned in fine, if dour, clothes and Wellington boots. Judging by the obvious wealth and distance traveled, Fluttershy braced herself for something exotic. Her money, insofar as she had any at this moment, was on manti-cheetah. “Uh, do note that I charge a, um, little extra for pets with special needs, like bulk fresh meat.” She gave another look at the outfit. That much black could suggest a were-parrot as well; they were quite fashionable right now. “Or voodoo talismans.” 

The griffon gave a quizzical look, “Er, sorry, I think I may have the wrong cottage. Could you point me towards one –”  He retrieved a folded piece of paper from a vest pocket, unfolding it to reveal an embossed blue crescent moon. “– Mistress Fluttershy of Ponyville?”

“You have the right home. I’m sorry, I don’t really understand what the issue could–” She realized her mistake. “Oh! Um, sorry. I gave you the speech for vet services. Adoptions start at seven, although I suppose I could make an exception since you are already here.”

The griffon shook his head. “No, no, the mistake is all mine! I didn’t realize you also practiced as a veterinarian, although I suppose it makes sense you would need to supplement your income considering the diet of your nobility. No, I have no ill pets for you to tend to, nor am I here for to acquire any. Instead, I will be needing your primary services. Now, as we ought to start whilst the sun is still rising, would you care to fetch a pair of boar spears, as well as something for yourself, of course. Oh, and a few snares, if you would? Might as well set a few traps while we are stalking.”

“Uh, I, er…Could I, um, see that letter?”

The griffon handed it over. “You may, although I assure you your concerns about my qualifications are unnecessary.”

Fluttershy started to read the page.  

From the Desk of Her Imperial Majesty Celestia Luna

Ouch. They hadn’t even given Luna her own letterhead yet?

To the RH Ambassador Ingvar of House Välfjädrad, representative of the polity of Värend, including therein the hundreds of Northern –“

She skipped ahead a few paragraphs.  

– in service to HRH King Ongentheow IX of –

A little farther.  

–while we are unable to fulfill your request for a palace butchery, please note that the hunting grounds of the crown and the Gamekeepers thereof, are available for your services. The nearest to Canterlot would be one Fluttershy of Ponyville, keeper of – 

“Wait, what?”

–Fluttershy of Ponyville, keeper of the Crown Lands of the Two Sisters. If you should find yourself unable to locate her, please consult with the HRH Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Harmony Friendship Learning Ponyville, for help finding the residence of her appointed warden. Any services required–

Skipping the rest of the pleasantries, she checked the signature at the bottom.

–HRH Luna.

Fluttershy noticed that Luna’s signature was in a wildly different script than the rest of the letter, which was odd, considering it was supposedly written by her. It also seemed to be bracketed by patches of drool stains, which, along with the content of the letter, gave her a more than sneaking suspicion that she hadn’t written the letter at all. Fluttershy hadn’t seen Luna tremendously often, but she had seen her enough to hope that Luna wouldn’t just assume that Fluttershy regularly led hunting expeditions for crown guests, regardless of what position she may be occupying in the government payroll.

The letter also meant that when Twilight told her those checks in the mail were just a government pension she was, as usual, an enormous fucking liar. It’s a good thing she wasn’t Honesty.  

Fluttershy smiled sweetly at the noblegriffon as she handed the letter back. “Of course. Please excuse me, I must meet with my beloved liege first to clarify some particulars of my responsibilities. Do you mind?”





“Rap-rap-rap”

Twilight Sparkle, hero of Equestria, failed to rouse from the pile of books on her desk.  

Fluttershy looked back down at the griffon, who was growing increasingly impatient with Fluttershy’s attempts to awaken Twilight by knocking on her bedroom window. “I say! Do you usually contact your nobility by means of window? It’s quite irregular, you know.”

Fluttershy weakly smiled. “Oh, you know, just something of a joke between the princess and I. We go way back, you see, just a bunch of old chums.” She almost managed to get that last part out without clenching her teeth. She raised her hoof for another round of rapping only to have the window pulled open before her blow, revealing a very pissed little dragon.  

“For the goddesses’ sake Rainbow Dash, we have a door you kno – Whoa!” Spike recoiled in shock, clearly not expecting this pegasus at the window. “Wow, that’s unexpected. What did Twilight do this time?”

“Well, Twilight told me she could get me some money with a government paycheck, which she did, but now somebody has shown up at my door –”

Spike had already started walking away from the window. “Right, for a hunt. Is it Luna, or is it somepony else?”

“Er, it’s a griffon.”

Spike had made it back to Twilight’s desk. He lifted one of her limp wings and began rifling through a drawer. “You’ll want letter thirty nine, then. Gimme a sec, I gotta find it first.”  

“Twilight has letters written for all her contingencies?”

Spike lifted a letter out of the drawer. “Duh. She’s got hundreds of these. She always tries to keep some of them around just in case one of us has to fix something she messed up if she’s not around.” He paused. “Or dead.” He gave Twilight a cursory poke. “Phew, she’s still warm. We’re good.” He walked back to the window.  

Fluttershy looked back at the griffon, who was checking his pocket watch with alarming regularity. “Spike, I’m not sure I really have time to read a letter right now. Can you, um, give me the short version?”  

Spike took a quick glance at the letter, eyes scanning from side to side. “Yeah. Apparently, you should just convince whoever the crown sent you that there has been some kind of mistake. You didn’t talk to the griffon already, did you.?”

“Uh, I might have told him we could, uh, go hunting already.”

Spike winced a little. “Ouch, yeah, that’s not good. You’re going to need some truly impressive lying to get yourself out of that hole, which, no offense, isn’t your strong suit. Try Rarity.”

“I guess I’ll stop by there next.” Fluttershy peered around Spike. “Is Twilight, um, OK? She doesn’t seem to be waking up. Or breathing much, really.”  

Spike offered her the letter. “Oh, she’ll be fine. She keeps staying up for three or four days working on stuff, then she’ll sleep for thirty hours. It probably has to do something with these little wax paper baggies I keep finding on her desk. I keep trying to see what it’s in ‘em, but every time I touch one she gets really mad, so I just gave up.”

Fluttershy took the letter, giving it a quick once over. “That doesn’t sound, um, healthy. It’s probably nothing to worry about, though. Probably.”

Spike shrugged. “She hadn’t died yet. Not that I’m sure she can die, really. Y’know, wings and all.” He looked back at Twilight. One of her wings twitched, which was likely a good sign. “I don’t know. They don’t pay me to force her to make good life decisions, they just pay me to move the books around.” He handed Fluttershy the letter. “Sorry, can’t help any more than this, not much I can really do officially without her.” He gestured back towards the comatose Twilight, who had started drooling prodigiously. “I gotta stick around regardless. I’m pretty sure it’s time to–” shiver “–change the bucket” 

Fluttershy shut one of the window panes. “The bucket?”

Spike looked back at her, eyes wide and head shaking. “Trust me, whatever you think I’m talking about, it’s worse. Just leave it there.” With that, he shut the other window pane.





“Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock”

Rarity looked up from her morning coffee in shock.  

Only one pony could knock that politely, and five was bad news. One was a cursory warning before an arranged meeting. Two was an expected visit at an indeterminate time. Three was a truly surprise visit, which, on its own, was cause for considerable concern. Four was indicative of a truly disastrous circumstance, like the spa being on fire. Five meant “open this door in the next fifteen seconds or I stand a very good chance of death.”

Rarity threw herself to her hooves, nearly sprinting down a flight of stairs to her door before flinging it open.

“Hey Rarity,” said Fluttershy, pawing at the ground.

“Ah, good morning Fluttershy. What a surprise to see you here!” Rarity lied. She surreptitiously glanced around Fluttershy, trying to locate the impending disaster. There didn’t seem to be any billowing clouds of smoke, nor any rampaging herd of animals, so that meant her first two guesses were out.

Despite the seemingly peaceful circumstances, Fluttershy did indeed look rather panicked. “Could I, um, come inside for a second? I need to ask for your help with, um, something.”  

Look of shock? No flames? That settled it; she needed to hide a body. “Of course! Sorry for my slightly disheveled appearance, you caught me in the middle of breakfast. Please, step inside.”

Fluttershy did as she was told and stepped inside. Rarity closed the door behind her, then, after making sure the door had latched, pressed Fluttershy against the wall. “Ok, how big of an, er, ‘problem’ are we facing? Is it in the town? Out at your cottage? Should I bring gloves? Bleach? Or are we just planning to hide it in the forest? Is it anyone we know? You didn’t finally whack Cloudkicker, did you? Not that she didn’t deserve it.”  

Fluttershy looked back in confusion, “W–what? Hide? I don’t –  oh goddess Rarity, I didn’t – I didn’t hurt anyone. Why would you think that?”

Rarity giggled, a little nervous thing. “Nothing dear! Just a little joke,” she lied. She was doing a lot of that this morning. It’s a good thing she wasn’t Honesty. “Please, then, do tell; what has you so bothered this morning?”

Fluttershy looked at the ground. “Well, you know how Twilight is now the princess of, um.” She paused, apparently trying to think of what, exactly, she reigned over. “Something?”

“Yes.” Personally, Rarity believed Twilight was probably the princess of social anxiety.

“Well, she caught me shoveling hotel soaps into a saddlebag once before she got her wings, and she asked if I had problems with, y’know, money, and I told her that I hadn’t eaten anything but rice cakes and rodent kibble for a week, and so she told me that she would find some way to help me, and then when she got her wings she told me she could get me some government money, right?”

“Perfectly reasonable, dear. How nice of her.” Twilight had not offered to give her any money. Perfidious bitch.

“Yeah, well, anyways, it turns out she can’t just give away free money, so she found a job for me that still technically existed but didn’t actually exist, except apparently Princess Luna didn’t know that, so now I have to actually do that job, and basically I, uh, now need to guide a griffon on a, um, hunt. In the Everfree forest.”

“Mmm. I can see how that might be a problem. When must you accompany this griffon?”

Fluttershy took a quick peek out the front door. “Right, uh, now. He’s outside. And very hungry.”

There was a rather heavy knock on the door. It sounded quite a bit less polite.  

Rarity looked first at the door, then at the dreadful state of her mane, then at the cowering pegasus in her foyer. “Right. That does sound like quite the issue. I’m not sure what exactly you believe I could do about it, however.”

Fluttershy was still looking out the window. “Oh, well, she, well, really, Spike, gave me this letter that told me to lie to the griffon to try and get him to go away, but I’m not any good at that, but you are, so maybe you could, um, give it a try? Please?”

Rarity was momentarily a little miffed that Fluttershy had decided she was some kind of expert liar, but, yeah, that was probably right. “Ah, I see. Well, if he’s just some minor noble it shouldn’t be too hard, and I’m sure the crown can successfully cover up any complaints from some two-bit traveler.”

“Um, no, he’s kinda important, he’s the ambass–“

Rarity threw open the door. “Good morning sir! Sorry about the brief delay, I’m afraid there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. You see–”  

“HMPH.” It was a magnificent “harumph,” the kind that only came from a lifetime of snobbery. “I say, this has been most irregular! First the Royal Gamekeeper is seemingly utterly unprepared to guide any guests, then she must confer with her drowsy-headed liege before performing her duties, and now, after all that, she drags me to meet some low tailor? Quite irregular indeed. Your princesses, the real ones, I might add, will be hearing of this, unicorn, and I should hope she has the both of you punished for your incompetence.” He looked around the increasingly enraged face of Rarity, peering into the boutique. “Now, where has your yellow friend gotten to? I am famished and do not have all day to hunt, you know.”

Rarity, at first taken off guard by the sheer vitriol of the verbal assault, managed to shoot back. “The nerve! First off, sir, my name is not unicorn. It is Rarity, and secondly –”

The noble’s face lifted from abject contempt into something resembling a genuine smile. “Oh my, oh my! Excuse me for my brashness, miss. I had no idea I may have been speaking to a mare of quite some repute, although, in hindsight, I should have expected as much considering the locale. Are you truly the Rarity of Ponyville?”

Rarity looked back in confusion. “Er, yes, I suppose I am. Have you perhaps heard of my dresses? I must admit I did not know they had made it across the ocean, and you must forgive me, as I do not have anything quite cut for your, er, particular dimensions.”

He scoffed. “Ha! Dresses!" He chuckled softly. "You have a great humor as well! No, not your clothes, tailor. Surely you must have expected that a commission of that magnitude, by a pony no less, would create some waves among high society?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m afraid I do not quite understand. Of what guild are you speaking?”

“Why, the gevärverkstad, the gun-makers guild, of course! Did you not commission a piece from my brother, one Erik Välfjädrad?”

Ah. Now she understood. “I did, yes.”

“Excellent! That makes this hunt far more interesting. I was expecting to have to use armaments provided by the gamekeeper, but the prospect of using such a rifle is truly exhilarating! He was quite proud of it as well, so I am waiting with baited breath to see if it measures up to the standard he described. Now, go and retrieve it for me and I will be on the way.” He made a “shooing” motion with his hand before pointedly looking away.

Rarity did not move, her face slowly contorting in something between complete befuddlement and absolute rage.

The griffon looked back at Rarity. “Er, sorry, but I can’t help but notice that you haven’t moved. Are you hard of hearing, perhaps? You are supposed to wear those earmuffs while shooting, you know.”

“No, I believe I heard you fine. Perhaps you could elucidate as to why exactly you believe you will be going anywhere with my rifle?”

“What? Are you somehow unaware of the laws of the land? All firearms produced by the guild must be given to nobility in times of need, which, as I currently do not have access to my own armory whilst I am traveling, is right now.”

“I don’t know if you have noticed, sir, but this isn’t Värend, which means you have absolutely no right to deprive me of my property.”

“Deprive you? Why would I deprive you of anything? We don’t just take and use property without its owner present! Don’t be ridiculous.” He stuck a claw in his breast pocket.

Rarity relaxed slightly. “Well, that’s a relief. I’m glad we could clear up this misunder–”

He brought out the letter, pointing to a paragraph about three quarters down the page. “Why, you’ll be caddying it!”

Rarity read the lines aloud. “Any services habitually required in your homeland shall be rendered by Equestria under penalty of law as according to the terms of the Treaty of – oh fuck me, you’ve got to be kidding me.” She looked back at the griffon, who had his head tilted back, smugly smirking outrageously, his hand shooing Rarity back inside. She stuffed the letter back into his hand before about-facing, walking back through her door and closing it behind her.

Fluttershy pulled back from the window. “I couldn’t really hear anything. Did you, um, get him to leave?”

Rarity did not respond, instead walking past Fluttershy without so much as a glance in her direction. She stopped at the threshold of her basement door, seemingly stuck staring at the door handle, left eye twitching slightly.

“Uh, Rarity? Are you OK?”

Rarity didn’t look up. “Yes, Fluttershy, I’m fine. Humor me, though, hmm?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you feel about, ah, regicide?”
> They Still Eat Them In Croatia, You Know.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few of the ponies of Ponyville had begun to rouse, and there were a couple of early-risers walking the streets. Were it any other village, the sight of an unfamiliar griffon and two armed ponies would be cause for concern.  

In Ponyville, it was Tuesday.  

Rarity’s horn lit, her field fidgeting with the rifle slung across her back. If griffon guns could be uncomfortable for ponies to use, they were perhaps even worse to carry. “You’re saying Twilight was completely comatose?”

“Yes,” replied Fluttershy, “She was just, um, stacked in the books.”

Rarity rolled her eyes. “Hardly unusual, I suppose.”

“You don’t understand. I mean stacked. It was difficult to tell where the books ended and the Twilight began. And the smell.” Fluttershy shivered. “I don't think Spike gets paid enough”

Rarity stopped in the street, tilting her head in confusion. “Spike gets paid?”

Fluttershy shrugged. “Apparently. That’s what he said at least.”

“Huh. I suppose that does explain how he can afford to buy those, er– ” Rarity tapped a back foot in frustration, her brain failing to think of the proper word. “–books? With pictures of mares in costumes in them?”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened, cheeks blushing slightly. “Oh wow, he’s old enough to buy those? I never would have thought.” She paused thoughtfully. “Though, I suppose it does explain why he has to buy them. I don’t think Twilight would stock something like that in the public library.”

“What? Darling, I don’t think Twilight would have any problems with – oh my, you mean, oh! No, that’s not– ”

“Will you two get a move on?” the griffon shouted back towards the two mares. “Honestly, the nerve!” He scoffed, shaking his head in disappointment. “To make your guest wait not once, but twice, and to still have the audacity to dawdle? Absurd, patently absurd.”  

The volume of the outburst shocked the girls out of their conversation. They, slightly browbeaten, trotted back up to the ambassador, various bits of Rarity’s kit jangling about.

The griffon turned back forwards. “Now, let’s hurry back to your – ahem –  charming cottage, warden – ”

Fluttershy glared at him with the one eye visible around her mane.  

“–and pick up some provisions so we can finally venture on” He sped up his pace. “Now, do come on, hmm?”





The griffon stuck his head through the front door. “If available, pack a shooter’s sandwich with Cremini mushrooms, not Shiitake. And don’t skimp on the mustard!” The door shut.  

The two mares stared at each other in Fluttershy’s kitchen. Eventually, Fluttershy spoke. “So, uh, do you know what a ‘shooter’s sandwich’ is?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Oh. I thought maybe you would, because of, y’know,” she pointed at the rifle on Rarity’s back. “the shooting.”

Rarity giggled, her face breaking into a broad smile. “Oh! No, sorry to disappoint. That was clever, though. Good guess!”  

Fluttershy’s face lifted, and the two mares grinned at each other for a few seconds, savoring the first truly pleasant moment of the day. A thump on the front door brought them back to the immediate circumstances, and both broke back into frowns.

“So, uh, Rarity, I, um, want to apologize for getting you– ”

Rarity silenced her with a hoof, then placed it on Fluttershy’s shoulder. “No, don’t apologize for anything. It’s not your fault our monarchs are clearly inept.”

“Oh, um, I don’t know about that…”

Rarity rolled her eyes. “Luna apparently has no idea what one of her national heroines actually does, Celestia apparently can’t write a treaty to save her life, and our newest, bravest, most special-ist princess of all Her Majesty Twilight Sparkle is apparently both a moron and a low-functioning stimulant addict. We’re looking at oh for three, Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy lifted a hoof in retort before deciding that, yeah, that was pretty much correct.  

Rarity continued. “Enough about that, and forget about me, darling. I’m here to help a friend, and that’s what friends are for, even if I can’t help but think that I’m not exactly the ideal choice out of the girls for this one.  Much more importantly, are you going to be able to do this?”

Fluttershy looked at her meager pantry. “Um, I still don’t really know what kind of sandwich he’s talking about, and I don’t have any bread here, so, um, probably not.”

Rarity stared, dumbfounded. “What? What does bread – oh, no, not the sandwich, the whole, y’know, hunting thing? Going into a forest and–” she drew a hoof across her throat “–k–killing some poor creature?”.

“Oh.” Fluttershy relaxed. “Yes, mostly.”

“I mean the thought of it, poor Fluttershy, forced to undertake the barbaric – what?”

Fluttershy shrugged. “I, um, haven’t exactly done anything quite like this before, but overall it’s not anything new. I do take care of carnivores, after all.” She selected a pair of rough-looking saddlebags hanging on a hook on her kitchen wall, opening up the left bag before stepping over to her pantry. “I hope you like, um, rice cakes.”  

“You don’t mean to tell me you’ve hunted something before?”

Fluttershy swept a few crusty-looking crisps into the saddlebag with a wing. “Not quite, but I do occasionally have to, um, help an older animal on the way out, and it would be a waste not to use their body to feed something else.”

Rarity cringed. “I suppose so, dear, although I must admit I find it a little barbaric.”

Fluttershy shrugged. “It’s nature.”  She walked back to her cabinetry, pulling out a drawer and peering in. “I’m not particularly excited about the idea of, um, cleaning game in the middle of the Everfree forest, but I must admit there are a few older individuals in some of the herds that could do with an, er, culling.” She removed a birch handled knife in a light wooden scabbard from the drawer, stashing it in right side of her saddlebags.  

“Ah.” Rarity visibly relaxed. “Well, I suppose it’s shame on me for assuming.” She peered into the still-ajar drawer, spotting several other field knives. While Rarity wasn’t a knife expert, she was surprised at  how expensive some of them looked. “I must say, you seem far more confident in this quest than I.”  

“Oh, not at all!” Fluttershy smiled sweetly at Rarity. “You misunderstand. I am comfortable with the premise of a hunting trip.” She took a step towards Rarity, eyes widening. “I am absolutely scared shitless of actually doing it.”  

“Oh.” Rarity was shocked; that was perhaps the strongest profanity she had ever heard the usually demure mare utter.

“Mmm, quite.” Fluttershy kicked the drawer closed.  

“Er, may I ask why?”

Fluttershy pointed out the window. “Him, Rarity, that’s why I’m scared.”

Rarity scoffed. “Ah! Well, he may be a little threatening, but I assure you nobles like him are all puffed feathers and big egos. Nothing to worry about there.”

Fluttershy shook her head. “No, Rarity, not of him. I’m scared that he’s going to get us all killed out there.”

“K-killed?” Rarity’s pupils shot to the size of tea saucers.  

“Yeah, killed. Just because I go in it sometimes doesn’t mean the Everfree isn’t a terrible, terrible place, Rarity. Ponies die in there, Rarity. Everything wants to kill you, and it’s only because I’m very, very careful and can usually talk or fly my way out of if I have to that I haven’t become something’s lunch by now.”

“Well, that is quite, er, sobering.” Rarity pawed at the tile floor. “But, I mean, you’ll be leading, right? You know how to not have us, um, digested, right?”

Fluttershy nodded. “Oh, yes, I can get myself through, and, if you listen to me, I can get you though it too.” She glanced nervously out the window. “But I can only get him through if he listens to me, and I don’t think I’m quite, um, commanding enough for that.” She looked at the ground, retreating behind her mane. “I honestly just don’t think I can do it, Rarity, I just–”

Rarity had seen enough Fluttershy to know when a total come-apart was incoming, and she was determined to cut this one off before it started. “Hey!” She lifted a hoof, raising Fluttershy’s chin before pulling her into a hug. “You don’t worry about dealing with that pompous griffon out there. Leave that to me, I’ve met hundreds of puffed up featherbrains just like him, and I know how to make them listen.” She pulled back from the hug. “You just focus on being Fluttershy, OK?”

Fluttershy sniffed once, then smiled gratefully at her friend. “Yeah, Rarity. I think I can do that.”

Rarity smiled back. “Now, let’s see if we can figure out what a – Oh! I almost forgot!” Her horn lit, pulling two green velvet caps out of her saddlebags. “I figured I’d bring these. Just because we’re roughing it doesn’t mean we have to look anything less than fabulous, right!” She placed a cap on each of their heads. “Oh, and please flare out your wings, if you would.”

“Um, sure, I guess.” Fluttershy spread her wings wide.  

Rarity examined Fluttershy's wings. She had always been impressed with her wingspan, which, frankly, put Rainbow Dash’s to shame; had she had the aptitude and temperament for flight training, Fluttershy would have made for a phenomenal flier. “Got any loose ones?”

Fluttershy nodded towards her left wing. “I think there’s a couple primaries along the – eep!”

Rarity held the two feathers she removed in the air between the two mares, then stuck them into the two caps. “There. We might not quite have the aptitude, but at lease we look the part, no?”

Fluttershy pulled the hat off with a wing, inspecting it before returning it to her head. She had to admit it was rather fetching .”Huh. I never thought about wearing part of me, on, me.” She smiled. “I like it. It looks, uh…”

“Rugged?” Rarity volunteered. “Pastoral?”

“Pastoral.” Fluttershy agreed. “Now, let me take care of a couple things before we go. I’ve got a litter of dormice I’ve got in the incubator I need to move out.” She reached into a bow on her window sill, pulling out a basket of squeaking rodents. “See if you can figure out what kind of sandwich he’s talking about in the meantime,” she said, although, as it was around a mouthful of wicker, was more like a succession of mumbles. 

“Er, will…do?”

Satisfied, Fluttershy set off for the other side of the house, passing in front of the front door, which, as she passed, flew open, revealing a veritably steaming griffon.

“By the Sky-Father above! What could possibly be taking so long!” the ambassador screeched into the cabin. “It is simply not an ordeal to cut a damned sandwich! Just slice it and – Oh my! Are those d-dormice?”

Fluttershy nodded, unsure of exactly where this was going. 

“My, what a treat! I prefer mine roasted, of course, but even raw they are such a delicacy! Truly, you are a mare of exacting taste!” He reached a clawed hand into the basket, pulling out a set of squirming fluffballs. “And so clean! You must have been preparing these for a while, no?” Then, as Fluttershy watched in growing horror, he threw the handful into his beak, giving it one sickening crunch before swallowing it in one monstrous gulp. “Delicious!”

Fluttershy only looked back in dismay, glancing between her now-empty basket and the griffon. 

“Quite an excellent breakfast, if I do say so myself. Please do forgive my earlier comments, yes? I had no idea you were preparing something like that.” He belched. “Oh! Excuse me.” He looked at the wide-eyed mares before him. “Now, shall we depart?”
> Fluttershy, Noted Student of "Get Tough!"
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The three stood at the threshold of the Everfree. Even at its limit, the vegetation piled on thick, and it seemed to exude an aura of discomfort. It was a place that demanded respect, lest a careless visitor find themselves torn limb from limb from predators both flora and fauna. Fluttershy looked ahead with resolute focus, some of her usual meekness washed away by the graveness of the situation. Rarity fiddled with her cap, softly quaking in fear, but, to her credit, her brave face she had put on to reassure her friend was still holding, albeit barely.  

Meanwhile, the griffon ambassador picked at an errant feather with a claw in bored disinterest. “This is it?”

“Yes.” Fluttershy turned around to face the griffon. “This is the, um, most dangerous place in Equestria, the Everfree Forest.”

He scoffed. “Doesn’t look too bad.” He peered around the pegasus. “I don’t know about ponies, but griffons are not typically afraid of plants.”

“Well, there are a few dangerous species of flora in the forest. Poison Joke, of course, although really I think the most dangerous one is the Tyrolean Defenestrating Vine, which should be kept away from all windows if possible, and–”  

The griffon looked on in absolute disdain, not expecting that his joke about dangerous plants would be followed by a pony naming, of all things, dangerous plants. He made sure to pointedly ignore her.

Fluttershy continued. “But there’s plenty of dangerous creatures too! Cockatrices, manticores, timber wolves, normal wolves, snakes whose venom makes your brain melt out of your ears.” She shivered. “Very, um, scary!”

Rarity nearly fainted. The griffon continued to look unamused.  

“But don’t let that scare you!” Fluttershy smiled. “Just make sure you listen to me and I’ll get us out of here just fine!”

“Uh-huh.” The griffon found the errant feather that had been bothering him, pulling it out. “Any words of advice, ‘warden?’”

“Lots!” Fluttershy beamed, spirits bolstered by the apparent willingness of her guest to cooperate. “Once we get in, we need to keep moving though the forest, and we should never retrace our steps, because the, um, wolves will be tracking us as soon as we enter. Please, uh, try not to disturb any predatory species I point out, it should save us a lot of, um, trouble. We should come upon a group of smaller capyboars about four hours in, so just stay quiet until – hey!”

The griffon pushed past her, stepping into the foliage. “Yes, yes, be quiet, got it. Are you done prattling? I have a lunch to kill, you know”





It was now noon, and the trio had been walking into the Everfree for a good three hours, and one mare in particular was really rather upset about the arrangement. 

"Eugh!! If I had known it would have been such a trek I would have prepared with a pre-journey hoof massage.” Rarity shook a hoof in the air. True, helping was what friends were for, but that didn’t mean she had to enjoy it. “And scheduled a pedi. I don’t think my hooves are ever going to look right after this.”  

The griffon rolled his eyes in, for once, well deserved disdain. “Harumph. I say, warden, this tag-a-long has proven to be quite the annoyance. Quite!”

Rarity wheeled around, firing back a retort. “The nerve! May I remind you that my tagging-along, as it were, was your–”

Fluttershy halted, then held up a hoof.  

“–idea to bring me along, so I don’t want–” Rarity found herself silenced by a glare from Fluttershy. Impressively, it managed to communicate the entire sentence of “Hey, remember that thing I said about listening to me so you don’t die? Yeah, do that.”

Fluttershy spoke, taking a more authoritative tone than usual, albeit not without at least some of her usual pauses. “There’s something big up ahead. It’s not moving, and it’s not, um, looking around, so I’m guessing it’s a predator. We should be fine if we, uh, respect its space, but you ought to load just in case, Rarity. Please.”  

Rarity nodded, opening the patchbox on her rifle and extracting a single cartridge which she tore open with her teeth, dumping the powder into the bore before ramming the ball down. She then set to preparing the flash pan, extracting a winding key from her saddlebag. 

Fluttershy continued her warning. “No matter what, please don’t, um, do anything to irritate it. We’re not here to mess with predators.” She looked at each of her companions in turn; Rarity, focused on winding the action, simply nodded, her whining temporarily abated by the severity of the situation. The ambassador merely responded with a scoff, as to imply that her advice was utterly obvious.

Reasonably content with those responses, Fluttershy addressed both of them again. “Alright. Let’s go, but please, um, step quietly. We don’t want to wake him up if he’s asleep, you know.” She stepped off, beckoning the three to follow her through a patch of brush.

No sooner had the they cleared the scrub than they all saw the object of Fluttershy’s consternation; a young manticore. Its wings were still a little undersized for proper flight, but it had a fully developed tail and set of jaws, and even a juvenile was very much an extremely dangerous creature to encounter in the wild.  

“Oh shit,” whispered Rarity, removing the rifle from her back, “is that a, uh–”

“Manticore? Yes,” replied Fluttershy. “But he’s asleep, and he’s just a juvenile, so he shouldn’t bother us unless we hurt him. If he does wake up we should be able to scare him off by making a bunch of noise.” She looked back at Rarity, smirking with a rare jab. “Should be easy for you.” 

“Har-har.” Rarity slung the rifle back onto her spine. She poked disdainfully at the soggy ground. “Are we going to have to slink around it? I can’t say I am exactly enthralled at the prospect of scrubbing Everfree mud from my coat.”

“Unfortunately,” replied Fluttershy, already lowering herself to the ground. “I hope you don’t mind your belly getting a little, um, muddy.”

“Normally, yes, but I suppose considering the circumstances I suppose it’s better than a mauling – hey!” Rarity found herself being lifted into the air, one claw around her barrel, the other unlooping the rifle from her body. “What do you think you’re doing? Put me down, you ruffian!”

“Tut!” the griffon chastised, far too loud for the circumstances. “And to think, you would have me miss such an incredible opportunity! A manticore, and a male at that?” He succeeded in unwrapping the rifle from the writhing mare. “What an incredible addition to a trophy room!” 

Both mares looked back in horror, each trying to, as quietly as possible, warn the griffon in no uncertain terms that what he was doing was, to put it lightly, the wrong course of action. 

“Um, that’s not a great idea, manticores are really very robust–”

“Good goddess, are you crazy? That’s a thirty-six caliber–”

“–and it is really, um, very unlikely that one shot will incapacitate a manticore, so please do not–”

“– all you’re going to do is piss it off, you–”  

“–I am imploring you, please, please do not shoot the manticore.”

The griffon scoffed, taking aim. “Hmph! As if you two grass-eaters would know better.”

“fizz-CRACK”

Both the mares cringed from the unmuffled gunshot, looking back up at the griffon in despair. 

“Hah, see!” He pointed a claw in glee. “Your mewling protestations were unwarranted! The manticore is slain with but a single shot! Now, which one of you wants to carry–”

The manticore’s eyes shot open, legs flailing. A patch of fur on his belly had turned red.

The griffon shifted slightly, looking down at the rifle in his claws. “Ah, well, he’s not quite dead yet, but he is gravely wounded, and will be passing shortly.” He held out the rifle to Rarity. “Do reload for me, caddy, if you would.”

She did not take the rifle from his claws.

“Er, caddy?” He shook the rifle in front of her face.  

She still did not take the rifle, her eyes instead focused on the manticore, pupils like dinner plates. 

All three cringed from an unearthly screech, looking in horror at the wounded but very much alive manticore. He screeched again, tail raising menacingly into an aggressive stance.

“Right.” The griffon dropped Rarity’s rifle into a particularly scummy puddle. “You two deal with–” he pointed at the manticore, which had raised its haunches in preparation to charge “–that. I will be, er, not here.”  

Rarity wheeled around, face seething in abject disdain. Her discontent had reached such a fever pitch that her horn was not just glowing faintly in anger but giving off wispy blue lines of smoke. “What do you mean not here?” shouted Rarity,  utterly indignant. “Where in Tartarus do you think you’re going? It’s forest–”

The griffon spread his wings and took off with a single powerful thrust, throwing wet leaves from the ground into Rarity’s face. 

“–oh, right.” She removed a leaf from her face with a quick light of her horn. “Wings.” She huffed, turning her head around to look over her unfeathered back. For once, her jealousy towards Twilight had nothing to do with the natural grace wings afforded pegasi and alicorns in formal wear and everything to do with her inability to very literally kick someone’s ass. She stared wistfully at the clouds, missing the wing Fluttershy was waving in front of her face in an attempt to gain her attention.

“Rarity!” whispered Fluttershy. When Rarity still didn’t respond, she punctuated her interjection with an elbow to the gut, which finally did the trick. “Rarity, reload your rifle. He’s about to charge, but we might be able to scare him away for a minute with the sound.”

Rarity rubbed her side where Fluttershy had whacked her, horn alight as she pulled her rifle out of the puddle. “Oh! Uh, sorry, I don’t think that’s going to work. The powder won’t go off it it’s damp, and the flash pan’s all wet from the mu-mud-mud-mud?” She held the rifle aloft, noticing not only the filthy state of her firearm but, far worse, some new dings along the woodwork. “AAAIIIEEEEEEEEK” she shrieked, throwing her face skywards towards the cloud she suspected the griffon was resting on. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER, DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THIS COST?”

“Rarity!” Fluttershy hissed, her wings spreading in an instinctual threat display as she stepped in between the belligerent unicorn and the manticore.  

Rarity continued, ignoring Fluttershy. “ELEVEN THOUSAND BITS! YOU THREW MY ELEVEN THOUSAND BIT RIFLE IN THE MUD, YOU ARROGANT BALD-HEADED FEATHER-BRAINED OVERSTUFFED BASTARD! I’M GOING TO GO UP THERE AND STICK YOUR BEAK SO FAR UP YOUR OWN ASS YOU’RE GOING –”

“RARITY!” Fluttershy kicked back with a hind hoof, hitting Rarity directly in the jaw. “Rarity, please, goddess, shut the fuck up and – shit!” The manticore had already started charging, giving her seconds to act. A quick scan to the rear revealed a fallen tree, the roots of which formed a hollow just big enough for two ponies. She raised a hoof to point at the hollow, but, seeing the understandably dazed look on Rarity’s face, decided that any communication was basically worthless; she instead gave her wings one powerful flap, propelling herself linebacker style into Rarity and launching the two into the hole, leaving the unloaded rifle in the dirt.

“Oof!” Rarity sucked in wind on the floor of the hole, taken completely by surprise by the force exerted by the pegasus. She rubbed her head, more than a little dazed from the earlier hit. “Good goddess, you hit like a defensive end on a blitz!”

Fluttershy pulled herself against the wall of the hollow, looking frantically out the entrance at the furious manticore. “Rarity, no time for jokes!” She turned around to look at the sprawled unicorn, eyes full of justified fear. “Pull something in front of the hole now, or we’re dead!”

Rarity tilted her head in confusion  “But can’t you just, er, speak with the beast, like that one we met before?”

“Yeah, but they have to be willing to listen, which, considering we just, oh, I don’t know, shot him, something tells me he’s not going to want to hear what I have to say.” She looked back out the entrance. “Just pull something – duck!” She threw our a foreleg, pushing Rarity back into the hole as she threw up her left wing to block a striking paw, giving only a soft whimper as the manticore's claws pulled out a veritable bouquet of yellow feathers. 

Rarity looked up and gasped, pointing with a hoof at the considerable portion of the wing missing its usual plumage. “Oh, goddess, Fluttershy, your wing!” 

Fluttershy kicked Rarity in the sternum with a back hoof, keeping her eyes on the manticore who was currently busy trying to pull feathers out of his claws with his teeth. “Yes, I know, it’s very painful, now do what I said and magic something over here already so I don’t lose my head next time, OK?”

Rarity nodded and looked out of the hole, spotting a fallen tree branch. Her horn lit, her field enveloping the pile, but it only lifted an inch or so off the ground before falling back down. 

“Rarity, what the hell! Stop f-fucking around and get it over here already!”

Rarity’s eyes shot open, unused to hearing Fluttershy so frantic or profane. “S-sorry, I’m trying my best!” she panted. “It’s a l-lot heavier than it looks, y’know!”

Fluttershy swung her head back, “Don’t try your best, try some other, better, unicorn’s best, ‘cause if you don’t get that over here he's going to be using our ribs as toothpicks as soon as he’s done messing with those feathers.” 

Rarity blanched at the prospect of her own disembowelment, “R-right, sorry, I, uh, I’ll try again.” Her horn lit once more, glowing brighter than Fluttershy had ever seen Rarity’s horn go. This time, the branches lifted off the ground and glided over to the opening, albeit in a far shakier and more unsteady fashion than if a stronger unicorn had done it. She dropped it at the opening before collapsing to the floor, her coat slick with sweat and her horn sizzling from the effort. “Oh goddess, I – wheeze – should have done – wheeze –  those exercises Twilight taught me.” She pulled her legs under herself, starting to rise. “What’s the – wheeze –plan now, Flutter–”

“Down!” Fluttershy pushed Rarity back down to the dirt just in time for the manticore’s stinger to fly inches overhead through a gap in the branches, not quite able to hit the prone pony. “Stay down for a second!”

Rarity nodded, more than willing to cooperate considering the alternative of virtually instant death via manticore stinger through the eye socket.

Once the stinger pulled back through the hole, Fluttershy joined Rarity on the floor. “Alright, he’s gonna pull those branches out of the opening in a minute or two.” As if on cue, a paw stuck through the bundle, pulling at the blockade. “As soon as he gets through, I’m going to Stare at him, but if he's this pissed I can only hold him for a couple seconds.” She poked Rarity in the chest. “I need you to hold his stinger down so I can pin him down. His shoulders can’t reach back behind him.”

Rarity looked around, frantic at the idea of having to wrestle part of a manticore. “Then what?”

“We’ll get there when we get there, Ok? Trust me!” the manticore pulled away one of the branches. “He’s almost through! Get ready, Rarity!”

Rarity looked ahead, gasping as the rest of the branches pulled away, revealing a snarling, fanged maw. 

“Now!” Fluttershy yelled, pulling back her mane behind her ears to reveal both her eyes. The manticore froze, vibrating slightly. 

Rarity hadn’t moved. 

“G-go! G-grab it!” Fluttershy was panting, coat frothing with mental exertion. “Go, Rarity!”

Rarity, once again, shocked into action, bolted from the hole’s entrance, tackling the stinger and pulling it into an arm bar. Fluttershy stepped forward, taking labored breaths. “Have you g-got it, R-Rarity?”

“Y-yes, dear!” Rarity tightened her grip. 

Fluttershy spread her wings. “Alright, hold on!” She blinked, releasing her hold on the manticore. He tried to fling his tail forwards, only to find it rendered immobile by a slightly pudgy unicorn. His second choice, a swipe with his paws, found only air, Fluttershy having catapulted herself into the air with her slightly lopsided wings. She landed on his back, pulling her forelimbs around his neck into a textbook rear naked choke. 

“Now what? I can’t hold on forever!” Rarity shouted. The manticore slammed her into the ground. “Oof!”

“Nngh, just hold on! I should be able to choke him out in a little bit!” Fluttershy tightened her hold, wings held firmly in front of her forelimbs as protection. 

“Mmh, hurry!” The manticore slammed Rarity to the ground again, her cap flying off. “I-I can’t hold on much longer.” 

Fluttershy looked back, seeing the panicked face on her friend. She was already squeezing as hard as she could, but the manticore was still throwing her back and forth into the vegetation. “Ok! Just, uh, give me the knife out of my saddlebags, the big one!” Her wings blocked another slap by the manticore. “Fast!”

Rarity’s horn lit, unlatching the saddlebag and lifting the unsheathed knife into Fluttershy’s right foreleg. Fluttershy whispered an apology into the manticore’s ear, then plunged the knife in between his upper right ribs and into the heart, dragging slightly to the right before removing it. The beast shuddered a few times, then fell still.

The two mares panted in exertion, taking a moment to recover after the literal life and death struggle. “Is it, uh, over?” asked Rarity, who was still trying to extract herself from the tangle of vines and tail.

“Yeah, it’s, he’s, he’s, um, oh goddess–” Fluttershy fell off the corpse onto her haunches, sniffling. “He’s, um, gone, yeah.” She held together for a few more seconds, then broke into tears, her body wracked by deep, earnest sobs.

Rarity pulled her into a hug. “Oh, Fluttershy, there’s no reason to–” she paused, suddenly  aware that that particular phase wasn’t exactly applicable. “–well, regardless, you saved us both, right?" She looked around the pegasus at the dead manticore, silently awed that the pony the girls had unanimously agreed was worst in a brawl had managed to kill a manticore with nothing but a field knife and a choke-hold.

“Yeah, I did.” Fluttershy sniffed. “He’d been gut shot badly, so he didn't have long, and he was either going from infection or the wolves. I was going to –sniff– put him down after I had him unconscious." She shook her head. "But I would never do it like that if I had the choice. I hate it when they know what's happening. I hate it.” She looked at Rarity, eyes wide and brimming with tears. “It never gets easier, killing like that. He was only a year and a half old, Rarity, barely out of the nest.” She shook her head. “A year and a half.” 

Rarity pulled her in tighter. “Hey, don’t worry about that, darling. It’s not your fault, Fluttershy." She sighed. "Of course, it's not like it was your choice in the first place.” She looked up at the clouds. ”Speaking of…”

The griffon descended from the clouds, landing a few feet in front of the killed manticore. “I say! Excellent job securing my kill, warden! You may not be totally useless after all.” He ran a claw through the budding mane of the manticore. “Although I must admit I may have overestimated the quality of the trophy; his mane is looking a little thin.” He pulled his claw back. “Still! Not too bad, all things considered." He looked over the two filthy, huddled mares. "Ugh, do stop crying, warden, and clean this kill for me, yes? I should think we should start retracing our –” he stopped mid-sentence, eyes crossing to look at the knife pointed at his windpipe. “Er, warden?”

“Shut up.” Fluttershy pushed the knife closer. “I told you expressly at the start of this to listen to me, but you’re too smart for that, right?” With a swipe, she took off the top button of the ambassador’s coat. “Too important to listen to the little pony?”

“Well, I–”

“NO! No excuses!” Fluttershy’s wings flared to their full span, showing, Rarity noted, several bald patches from the manticore’s efforts. “I told you to listen to me, and you didn’t listen, did you?” She gestured to the manticore. “And now this beautiful creature is dead. DEAD! And it’s your fault!” She stomped on a claw hard enough to send the griffon to the ground. “So let me be clear. YOU are going to listen unquestioningly to what I say. WE are going to keep going into the forest so we don’t get eaten by wolves, and I am going to do whatever I can to make sure you don’t do anything this stupid again. IS. THAT. CLEAR?”

After a few seconds, the griffon nodded from the dirt.

“Fine,” she spat, her usual smile completely obliterated. She wiped the knife on the griffon’s coat, leaving two ugly smears in his assuredly frighteningly expensive vest, the placed the weapon back in its sheathe before tossing it in her saddlebags. “Now, unless you're planning to clean your kill with your claws, let's get a move on, hm?"
> For What It's Worth, Her Hat Was Sent Into Orbit.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fluttershy, her mane pulled back into an uncharacteristically practical ponytail, raised a hoof. “Stop.”

A few hours ago, a command like that would have brought snide comments from at least one of her followers, but the persistent howls of the wolves that had been following the three had dampened what remained of their spirits.  

She continued, still looking directly forward into the foliage as she issued orders in a pure-business tone. “Capyboars ahead. There’s about ten. Walk quietly. They aren’t very smart, but they can hear very well and will scatter if they hear hoofsteps. The one in the back is usually the oldest and slowest. That’s the one we’ll be going for.”  

The griffon picked idly at one of the new stains on his vest, which had to begun to crust over. “Right, right, yes. Go quietly, shoot the one in the back.”

She turned away from the foliage, facing the griffon directly and shaking her head in disapproval. “Don’t be, um, uh–” She shot her eyes to Rarity, apparently having forgotten the appropriate word.

“Flippant?” Offered Rarity, who was currently occupied with trying to extract a twig from her utterly decimated mane. Unsurprisingly, being flung into foliage at high speed was not particularly nice for one’s appearance, but the imminent threat of death by wolves had put most of her winging on hold.  

“–flippant,” agreed Fluttershy, nodding slightly to her friend. “We very well might have to use whatever game we take to delay the wolves behind us, so it is imperative–” she punctuated with a hoof to his chest “–that you hit your target.”

The griffon looked at the trio’s tracks through the undergrowth. None of them had heard anything from the canines in a few minutes, but they were undoubtedly still back there, and even the bravado of the haughtiest of barons withered under the threat of disembowelment. “I thought you said we would outpace any predators so long as we kept moving? Is that not what you said upon our entrance to the forest, warden?”

“I did.” Fluttershy retorted, voice dripping in disdain. “Unfortunately, I also seem to remember that someone made us stop for a good twenty minutes after, oh, I don’t know, shooting a manticore.”

The griffon did not respond, merely offering a sharp tut in response before slinking off through the undergrowth towards the aforementioned herd of boars.  

Once he had passed through the brush and was, more importantly, out of earshot, Fluttershy let out a breath she had been holding, sucking in a few shallow, panicked sips of air and slumping to the forest floor.  

Rarity rushed over to her side, throwing a foreleg over her shoulder in concern. “Oh, my, Fluttershy dear, are you alright? You aren’t injured, are you?”

“No, I’m not injur–” Fluttershy paused, slightly writhing her left wing, “Well, um, actually, yes, there’s a little bone or two broken in the wingtip, now that you mention it, but no, I’m, uh, not seriously injured.” She removed the hat from her head, wiping a particularly grimy line of sweat from her forehead. “I’m just – I can’t keep doing this, Rarity.”

“Doing what exactly, dear? I hope it isn’t leading us through a forest, as I believe we have a good hour or two to go before we get out of this wretched place.”  

“No–”

“Not that I’m in any way dissatisfied with your performance, that is!” Rarity hastened to add. “Celestia knows none of the other girls could have even gotten this far. To tell the truth, I’m astonished at how well you’ve done, really, especially when considering how you learned of this, er, royal appointment but this morning.” She rubbed Fluttershy across the shoulders with the hoof. “Still though, I rather hope you don’t mind getting us out this forest. I'd quite like all of my insides to remain on my insides, as it were.”

Fluttershy smiled weakly back at Rarity, replacing the cap back onto her head. The once vibrant green felt had dulled considerably with dirt, rendering it a somewhat sickly olive. “No, I’m still, um, confident in my ability of us to get us out of here.” She rose to her hooves, brushing off a few burs that stuck to her coat. “It’s being in charge I can’t keep doing.”

Rarity frowned slightly. “Really? I can’t say I share your pessimism, dear. I would say that you seem more than sufficiently decisive to me.” She chuckled slightly. “Or to our dear guest’s vest, as it were. Normally I’d protest such as assault against such lovely stitching as on those buttons, but I suppose some things do come before fashion in such circumstances.”

Fluttershy shrugged. “It’s easier when you’re riding high from adrenalin. It’s a lot harder to play the captain when you haven’t, uh, dealt with a manticore recently.”

“Yes, I suppose that would be rather invigorating.” Rarity added. She checked the flash-pan on her rifle, satisfied that the powder was still sufficiently dry. “Regardless, we shouldn’t be on this little expedition much longer, hmm? I’m sure our esteemed guest will take a fine specimen, we’ll either make off with it or leave it as bait, and we’ll all be home in time for a well deserved dinner.”

“Hopefully.” Fluttershy wrenched down a saddlebag’s strap, noting, with some discontent, a rather large gash added by a manticore’s back paw. “I can’t say I’m, uh, particularly impressed by his sharpshooting so far.”

Rarity shrugged. “Surely the first shot was something of a fluke, no? I can’t imagine any sort of griffon noble would be completely incompetent in the art.” She adjusted the feather in Fluttershy’s cap. “Now, when we get back to town, should we start with Twilight’s left arm? Or her right? I can’t remember which one she favors for hoofwriting, although I suppose…”





As it turns out, Rarity was insufficiently imaginative.

“Fizz-CRACK”

The capyboar looked up from the mushroom he had been munching on. Spotting the trio, he calmly trotted away.

The mares turned around, shouting in unison. “You MISSED?”

The griffon adjusted his collar. “Hmph! They are a rather small target, you know. I’d like to see either of you do better.”

“Do better?” Rarity snatched her rifle from his claws, looping it back around her torso. “Not only could I make that shot behind my back with my bad eye, I think I could have run up and punched it at that range!”

“Then it is obviously your–” he gestured dismissively with his claws “–substandard rifle at work.”

“Substandard?” Rarity screeched, incredulous. “Your brother made it, you puffed up fleabag!”

“And you obviously must take abhorrent care of it! Look at the filth in the action, or the pitting in the wood!” He ran a claw down a particularly nasty gouge in the comb, either unaware that he was responsible for the defects mentioned or outrageously sadistic.

Rarity stamped in a most inelegant manner. “That DOES IT!” She swung the rifle onto her back, crouching into a lineman’s stance, horn smoking in fury. “If I hear one more quip like that our of you, I’m going to neuter you with your own beak, you inbred, flea ridden slice of poultry!” She nodded slightly, eyes wide and brows twitching outrageously. “Oh yes, when I’m done with you, you’re going to look like the stuffed game hen at one of your barbaric banquets, except instead of stuffing it’s your own craniu–”

“AWOOOOO”

All three froze, a few last wisps of smoke pouring off Rarity’s horn.  

“They caught up,” stated Fluttershy laconically.

The griffon wheeled around to face the source of the howling. “Er, what caught up, exactly?”

“Timberwolves. Sounds like a bunch of them, at least ten.”

“I only heard one, ward–”

Nine more howls joined the first.  

“–ah.”

Rarity shoved herself to Fluttershy’s side, cowering behind the immobile pegasus. “Right. Well, since our first plan didn’t quite work, do you have any idea on how to keep us from being, er, eaten?”

Fluttershy shrugged. “Not really. I was really counting on having that capyboar to trade away, but, as it turns out, someone can’t shoot to save his life.” She paused. “Literally, in this instance.”

The griffon’s wings flapped once, lifting himself up into the air before landing behind the mares. “Couldn’t we just fly away? “He nodded at Fluttershy. “Well, you and I at least. I suppose we’d have to leave the unicorn behind.”

Fluttershy, hearing the crack of sparks and fizzle of smoke to her left which eminated from Rarity’s horn, stuck a hoof in the infuriated unicorn’s mouth, preempting the undoubtedly epic stream of profanity which was sure to be about to spew forth. “Any idea that involves leaving somepony behind is obviously not going to happen.” She held out a patchy wing. “And even if I could fly right now, we still wouldn’t make it. They’ll track you in the air, and we’re at least two or three stops from the end of the forest.”

“I see. Hence your attempt to barter; a distraction, I presume?”

“Basically.” She looked at the tree behind the group. “If these were normal wolves, I’d say we could climb a tree until they got bored, but, since they’re timberwolves, they’d just, um, eat it.”

Rarity recoiled in shock. “The tree? They’d eat the tree?”

“Yeah. Where do you think they get all the timber?” Fluttershy looked back towards the wolves, backing up to the trunk behind her. “It’s a fascinating process.”

The griffon had positioned himself behind the tree, peeking out over Fluttershy, who was now pressed against the bark. “Ah, warden, you wouldn’t have happened to have brought that rope I requested for snares, would have you?”

Fluttershy nodded, not taking her eyes from the wolves in front of her. “I did. Check the left saddlebag.”

Rarity looked back at the ambassador, who was now rummaging through the bag. “You’re not suggesting you can somehow dissuade a pack of wolves with a rope, are you?”

The griffon pulled a spool of rope out, palming the knife out of the bag behind it. “Something like that, yes. Could you two keep watching the wolves in the meantime whilst I prepare?”

Rarity turned back around, similarly pushing herself up against the tree. “Do hurry, though, yes? I don’t think those slavering beasts are going to wait much long–” She halted mid-sentence, eyes shooting open at the feeling of four claws grasping the side of her face. Her horn didn’t even have time to light before he slammed the side of her head against the tree, sending her crumpling to the ground, limp.

Fluttershy saw her friend fall like a sack of potatoes. She only understood what had happened when she felt a claw on her wing. “YOU-” 

The other claw pulled Fluttershy’s right wing flush against the tree, his wings pulling her against the bark in a hug tight enough to drive the air from her lungs, cutting off her shocked exclamation off before it started. His right claw, now free from Rarity’s face, pulled back around the tree, returning with a knife which he slammed through the primaries of Fluttershy’s wing into the bark, rendering her immobile. “Oh, come now warden, you didn’t expect me to just sit here and let myself get eaten, did you, especially after that wonderful idea about leaving a distraction?” He threw a few lines of rope around Fluttershy, pulling them taut into a knot behind the tree. “I suppose that knife might hold you down long enough, but let’s not take any chances, hmm?”

Fluttershy turned her head as best the could to face the griffon. “You complete s-shitbag, when the Princesses find out you murdered two of the Bearers–” 

He cut her off with a claw around her muzzle. “Find out what? I don’t know what kind of petty noble a ‘bearer’ is, exactly, but, frankly, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to fly back to your wretched little hovel, raise a big stink about how you two were killed in some sort of unfortunate accident, then guide the searchers here to find exactly what I said they will; what’s left of two ponies after a pack of wolves have their way. A few feathers, probably. Then I’ll get on a boat back and leave this miserable country” 

He released Fluttershy’s face, picking up Rarity’s limp form off the dirt and, after removing the rifle from her back and throwing it behind the tree, leaned her against the trunk, tying her in with the rest of the rope and pushing her horn through the felt hat to interfere with her magic.

Fluttershy watched the ambassador manhandle her friend in disgust. Were her mouth not dry in well-concealed terror, she would have already spit in his eye. “Let me guess, you’re going to fly up there and watch us get eaten?”

“What? No!” The griffon scoffed. “Don’t be macabre. I’m not some sort of sadist, you know.” He spread his wings and took flight, hovering a few feet off the ground. “It’s really nothing personal, ponies. Just practical.”

Fluttershy watched as he turned around and leisurely climbed towards a passing cloud. “Uh-huh. Nothing personal against two ponies of this ‘miserable land?’”

The griffon paused, turning around. “Well, I suppose there is a sort of ulterior motive at work here, if you really must know. I can’t deny there is a sort of pleasure to this.” He yawned, raising a claw to his beak in a polite gesture. “Still! I don’t plan on staying to watch or anything quite of that sort. I would recommend sticking out your neck first, for what it’s worth. Rather they start there than the other end, I would think.” He gave his wings a few good flaps and soared into the air, passing behind a cloud and out of view.

Fluttershy rolled her eyes, muttering to herself. “Sure, it’s just business.” She surreptitiously gave Rarity’s limp form a few kicks. “Rarity!”

Rarity grumbled a little bit.

Fluttershy repeated the kick, this time adding in a tickle of Rarity’s ear with a wingtip she wiggled out of the bindings.

That did the trick. Rarity roused from her impact-derived slumber, eyes spinning a few times before settling on Fluttershy’s now impaled wing. “Urgh. Goddess, I feel like I got bucked in the jaw.” Feeling an uncomfortable wetness on her cheek, she tried to wipe it with a foreleg, only to look down and find herself restrained. “Er, Fluttershy, why are we–”

Fluttershy preempted her questions. “He knocked you out by whacking your face against the tree, pinned me to it with my knife, and tied us up to use us as bait.” 

Rarity paused in thought, then gave the ropes another tug. “Ah. That does seem rather on-brand, as it were, although I must say I didn’t exactly foresee things going quite this badly. Where has he gotten to anyway?”

Fluttershy gestured with a nod. “Flew up. Presumably, he headed west, back towards our ‘miserable little hovel.’” She paused, noticing Rarity’s puzzled face. “His words, not mine.”

“Right.” Rarity wiggled in her bindings until she could turn her head enough to see Fluttershy. “Oh, my! He really did go through your wings!”

“Yes. Just the feathers, at least. There’s a lot of, um, little bones out there.”  

“That’s a relief, I suppose.” Rarity grimaced. “Still, it’s a terrible day to be your wings, no?”

Fluttershy gave it a few tugs, wincing on a final, harder pull. “I guess so, yeah.” She frowned, understandably frustrated. “Ugh! He could have at least, uh, stuck the same one the manticore got. I’m already going to have to carry that one in a sling anyway.”

“I suppose that would have simplified restorative care, no?” 

“A little, yeah.”

“Well, at least you’ll be symmetrical. Nothing worse than one-sided baldness.”  

“If you say so.” Fluttershy could think of a couple worse things, including being tied to a tree and offered up as bait.

Rarity shook her head. “Well, regardless, let me pull that out for you–oh, right.” She glanced at her roped-in foreleg. “Still tied up. Silly me.”

Fluttershy gave a soft smile. “It was a nice thought. I guess we do have bigger problems anyways.” She gestured towards the rapidly encroaching timberwolves with her head. A few had begun drooling, a thick greenish sap pouring from their open mouths.

Rarity wiggled a little more. “I don’t suppose you could try talking to them?”

“Oh, no.” Fluttershy shook her head as best she could, which, considering the circumstances, was really just rubbing her face against the bark.“That wouldn’t work, Rarity.”

“Oh? Why not? We haven’t even, y’know–”  she twirled a hoof, which, as it was currently strapped to a tree, was really more of a wrist twirl “–shot any of them.”

“That’s true, but they’re not going to listen anyway. They’re the, uh, worst.”

“Oh?" Rarity questioned. She rubbed her face against the bark of the tree, noting, with no small displeasure, the red smear left on the bark. “Explains the wetness,” she muttered, shivering.

Fluttershy continued. “We’re, uh, that is, veterinarians, aren’t even really sure they need to eat meat since they’re made of wood. They might just eat ponies because they’re, uh, assholes.” 

Rarity shuddered. “Ugh! How distasteful. One wonders why the Creator made them in the first place.” She look up, perturbed. “Would you mind pulling this hat off my horn? The friction on my horn is really quite uncomfortable, and, rather more importantly, if I am to be eaten I would prefer not to look silly whilst doing it.”

“Oh! Sure.” Fluttershy leaned over the best she could, reaching just far enough to be able to pull off the hat with her teeth and replacing it a little farther back. “That did look a little uncomfortable.”

“Mmm. Much better.” She gave her horn a cursory light, pulling her slightly ragged mane out of her eyes. “Trust me dear, you don’t know what it’s like for a unicorn, even a fairly unimpressive one like myself, to have her magic constrained.” 

Fluttershy looked at the knife stuck through the primaries on her left wing. “Yeah. I bet.”

“Well, I suppose there’s nothing to do except curse the perfidy of our honored guest and wait for the inevitable, yes? While my horn may be free, I am no battle-mage a la Her Highness Princess Stimulants.” She guffawed, cackling at her own joke. “Oh! Who would have known I had a knack for gallows humor? A shame I couldn’t have that one added to the obituary.”

“Yes, what a shame.” Fluttershy eyed the wolves, who, judging by the pile of writhing wood and barks, seemed to be fighting over the right to take the first bite. “Really, Rarity, you seem to be taking this quite well, all things considered.”

“I know!” Rarity agreed. “Honestly, if you had asked me how I would take being tied up and left for a pack of wolves yesterday I would have said something along the lines of ‘screaming as I pissed myself,’ but look at me! No screaming, bladder totally in control. Remarkable!”

“Uh-huh.” Fluttershy looked back at Rarity, whose left eye still hadn’t quite aligned itself with the other. “Are you, um, experiencing dizziness? Nausea, maybe?”

“Well, now that you mention it, I suppose I am.” She shook her head a few times, eyes coming a little closer to alignment. “And my eye does keep wandering. I wonder if this is how that poor mailmare feels?”

“Right. Rarity, I think you’re probably experiencing a, uh, fairly serious concussion.”

“Ah.” Rarity paused. “That would make sense, considering, the, er, rapid application of tree to face.” She wiggled a little against the bindings. “It’s not my first. I must warn you that if it’s like the last one I’ll start vomiting in a most unseemly manner about twenty minutes or so, so long as I haven’t been eaten yet, that is.”

“I’ll make sure to hold your mane back. Wouldn’t want it getting any messier.” Fluttershy sniffed once, then gestured towards a boulder to their right. “Do you think you could pick up that boulder and chuck it at them? I don’t think it would dissuade them for long, but I guess it’s worth a shot, at least.”

Rarity chuckled. “Oh, no, dear, there’s no way. After dragging that branch, I think my horn would catch fire if I tried to pick up something that heavy right now.”

“Really? Fire?” Fluttershy eyed Rarity’s horn, which was already a little bit sooty. “I don’t think I’ve ever met any other unicorn who has that, um, much difficulty with burnout. Is that why it smokes when you get mad?”

“Very perceptive, Fluttershy, and yes. Twilight once told me it had something to do with ‘a latent talent for pyromancy,’ although I can’t say I’ve ever been able to as much as light a candle.”

“But it’s never, uh, burst into flame or anything like that? No visible fire?” Fluttershy was beginning to get an idea.

Rarity blushed slightly. “Well, I suppose I did produce a few spurts once when a customer was being particularly unreasonable. Quite a chore to explain to the constable that I hadn’t actually intended to set her hat on fire.” Rarity shook her head, smirking in the obviously pleasant memory of that particular incident. “Outside of that, though, I have managed to keep it under control.”

“Uh-huh.” Fluttershy paused, observing the wolves. The largest one had managed to whip a few of them into submission, each one rolling onto their backs in a show of fealty. “You know, Rarity, I have to say again that I really still can’t believe how well you’re taking this.”

“Oh, it’s obvious,” Rarity scoffed. “Even without the apparent brain injury, I can’t help but think there’s a certain acceptance that comes with a situation so dire as this.”

“Perhaps.” Fluttershy eyed the knife still stuck in her wing. “Would you mind, um, pulling out this out of my wing?” She shimmied her affected appendage for emphasis. “It’s very uncomfortable, you know.”

“Oh, sure.” Rarity’s horn lit, her field yanking the knife out of the trunk and into Fluttershy’s hoof. “As you were saying?”

“Right.” Fluttershy began sawing at the rope with the knife, the nonserrated edge making it a slow job. “Well, I was just thinking about what a missed opportunity our funerals will be.”

“Hmm?”

“Well, it’s just, um, I know you worked so hard on that dress when we started getting sent out on missions, you know? I don’t think I’d seen you lock yourself up in that workshop for that long ever before or, uh, since.”

Rarity froze. “Er, which dress, exactly?”

“Oh, don’t be shy Rarity.” Fluttershy noticed, with no small glee, that Rarity’s horn had indeed begun steaming. “That lovely funeral dress? The long black velvet one, with that gorgeous collar? Frankly, I never could tell if it was for wearing to a funeral or, um, being the funeral, but I think it’s a real shame that nopony will ever get to wear it.” 

Rarity had begun to stamp slightly with a hind hoof, thin wisps of steam now taking on a firmly black nature. “Er, yes, I suppose that is rather unfortunate, but–”

Fluttershy continued, all the while sawing at the rope. “And what a shame you’ll never get to design a dress for one of us! To think, poor little me, Fluttershy, the delicate butterfly of the Bearers, lain in state, Equestria's hero. What a, uh, spectacular dress that would require, and it would obviously be you designing it. Who else but one of her friends to clothe her one more time?”

Wisps had become a solid cloud, and Fluttershy could feel no small amount of heat radiating off Rarity’s now softly glowing horn. 

“Oh, and what about poor Sweetie Belle? No big sis to make her first prom dress? Ball dress? Wedding dress? She’ll just have to go to those, uh–” Fluttershy paused, trying to remember details from one of Rarity’s sauna-room rants. “–substandard tailors at a, uh, Canterlot department store.” She eyed the wolves, who had stopped fighting and were now closing in, led, unsurprisingly, by the largest among them. She quickened her pace with the knife, each stroke now pulling away a few strands of rope.

“–well, now that you mention it, I am–”

“Who would have expected this anyway? I always thought we’d be killed saving Equestria. We’ve come up against so much, you know? Discord, bless his heart, the Empire, Changelings? All much more, um, dangerous than a griffon. But no! We were, uh, done in by treachery.”

“–oh, dear, Fluttershy, I’m – I’m not sure I feel so well–” Rarity was now producing solid clouds of smoke, sending off popping sparks like a campfire. One landed a few paces in front of one of the wolves, who looked at the magical ember with no small alarm. 

Fluttershy knew she was close. “But the worst part? It was my job to be here. You just got caught up in this because of a loophole. Just a little–”

Rarity’s writhed against the ropes a few times, horn sparking and fizzing.

“–dumb–”

A tiny flame, no bigger than a candle, had sprouted from the tip of Rarity’s horn.

“–treaty.”

“FUCK!” A spout of blue flame exploded from Rarity’s horn, showering the branches of the pine tree the two were strapped to in fire, the needles combusting instantly. “I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M GOING TO DIE OUT HERE BECAUSE OF SOME STUPID TREATY BY OUR INSUFFERABLE, INCOMPETENT PRINCESSES AND–” she dipped her head down, instantly immolating one of the closer wolves and scattering the rest. “ –AND SWEETIE BELLE IS GOING TO GO TO PROM IN A RENTED DRESS AND – AND – AND JUST FFFFUCK! FUCK! FUUUUCK! –”

Fluttershy, who had just managed to cut the rope before Rarity quite literally exploded in anger, rolled away from the tree and unicorn. “Rarity! Rarity! Calm down, it’s, fine! It’s over!”

“AND, and, oh, shit, I – I think, I, oh Celestia I’m – ” Rarity plummeted to the ground, falling completely spread-eagle into the dirt in front of the now vigorously burning tree. 

“Oh, no, I’m, uh –” Fluttershy rushed over to the now nearly-comatose form of Rarity, both to ensure she was still breathing and to pat out a few smoldering spots in her mane, which she noted was now missing the front two-thirds. “–ohmygosh, Rarity, are you okay?”

Rarity made a few noncommittal gutterances. 

Fluttershy ripped open her saddlebags, pulling out a small canteen and a bandage. “Here, hold still, I’ll pour some water on it to cool you down.”

Rarity stirred a little, pulling a forehoof under her in an attempt to stand. “No, I’ll be–” she slumped back to the ground. “–no, never mind, that’s not going to work.” 

“just stay down, Rarity. You’ve already done enough, okay?” She poured what was left of her canteen across Rarity’s head, noting not only the sheer quantity of soot in the off-grey runoff, but also that her horn stayed resolutely black, a sure sign of serious burnout. She then pulled the bandage taut across the gnarly gash in Rarity’s face, which had bled profusely since her initial attack. “If I have to, I’ll carry you out of here. I promise. Nopony gets left behind.” 

Rarity rolled over onto her back, chest still heaving in labored breaths but gradually slowing. “I can assure you that you almost certainty will.” She gestured to the tree. “Would you happen to know where my rifle has ended up? I hope it wasn’t up in the branches.”

Fluttershy shook her head. “It got tossed behind the trunk.” She trotted off towards the back of the tree, pausing to dodge a falling and very much burning branch before returning with the rifle’s sling held in her teeth. 

“Wonderful, Fluttershy, absolutely wonderful. Would you mind handing it over?”

Complying, Fluttershy dropped the rifle on to Rarity’s chest.

“Thank you dear.” Rarity slid open the patchbox, finding one singular remaining cartridge. Satisfied, she closed the patchbox back up. “I think I’d like that carry, if you don’t mind.”

With a weak smile, Fluttershy positioned herself in front of the supine unicorn, squatting to the ground.  “Need some, um, help?”

Rarity rolled over into a sitting position, throwing her rifle on to her back before clambering on to Fluttershy’s back, “No, I, – urg – should manage.”

Fluttershy grunted under the weight of the admittedly pudgy unicorn. “Let me know if you need off, okay?” With a final look back at the smouldering remains of a few timberwolves, she stepped off towards the west and home.
> What *is* The Wergild For a Rabbit, Anyway?
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fluttershy clattered out of the Everfree’s treeline, panting in exertion and coat coated in froth. Her forehoof caught on a knurled root, sending her face-first into the grass, contents of a ripped right saddlebag (one puukko knife and a topologically unlikely amount of rice cakes) spilling out into the emerald sea of lovely bluegrass that carpeted Ponyville’s immediate surrounding. 

“Fuck.” It was a well-deserved utterance, one that expressed both a relief from clearing the edges of the forest and despair at the loss of a full week’s worth of starchy sustenance to the waves of grass. 

Were Rarity, who had stumbled out of the Everfree a few moments later, not currently upchucking the paltry contents of her stomach, which, as she had correctly predicted, had already gone through four rounds of such, she would have joined Fluttershy in cathartic swearing. As it were, she mostly just produced a bunch of unpleasantly wet gurgles. 

It was, as she had said, most unseemly.

“You – huff –  alright back there, Rarity?” asked Fluttershy. She knew the answer, of course: obviously not, but determining if Rarity could respond at all was important in determining their next destination.

“Obviously – hurk – not, dear,” said a spittle-soaked Rarity, who punctuated her response with a most unladylike final spit of bile. “Heavens above, I think I’ve puked out last year’s birthday cake at this point. Do we have any water left?”

Fluttershy pulled a canteen from her left bag, giving it a jiggle to listen for any sloshing; to her displeasure, there wasn’t even a hint of liquid remaining. Frowning, she opened the top and inverted the container, watching as a single drop ran out of the opening. “No.”

“Urgh. I suppose that figures, considering how much I’ve imbibed over the past hour or so.” She raised her head to level, turning from to side to side and taking in the surroundings.  “I really do hate to be dramatic, Fluttershy, but I must hope we are nearing civilization at this point. I have serious doubts I will make it much farther without keeling over dead, and I would hate to fail quite this close to home after such a tremendous effort.”

And, indeed, it had been a tremendous effort. Even after the incendiary escape from the pack of wolves, there had been a few hours of incredibly treacherous forest to go. While the few remaining wolves that shadowed the group could be scared off by pointing Rarity, who was still at the time on Fluttershy’s back, at them and making “woosh” noises, there were other threats to contend with, not to mention the sheer physical exertion of carrying another body through the woods. Mercifully, Rarity had regained the ability to walk after the first thirty minutes or so, and the pathway out had been made relatively clear by the breaks in the canopy where the griffon had broken through to rest.

“We’re not that far,” reassured Fluttershy, who had retrieved her puukko and was now working on stuffing a few of the rice cakes into the remaining intact saddlebag. “It’s about a ten minute walk to the cottage from here. We’re on the, um, side away from town, which is why you don’t recognize it.” She, satisfied with her retrieval of at least half of her food, eyed her shaking companion. She would like to say she had seen worse, but the trembling form of Rarity, who was missing the majority of her mane and was coated in a truly wretched mixture of grass stains, soot, and her own fluids, was, truthfully, about the worst she had seen. “Do you need me to, uh. carry you that far?”

“I should manage at least that far, I think. Would you mind sending for a doctor when we get back? I doubt I would make the hospital, and I really ought to be seen to before I, er, perish.”

“Certainly. I was going to get him for me anyway.” In truth, Fluttershy could have set the bones in her wing herself, but it wasn’t like she was going to miss out on care she could charge the crown if she had the choice. She set off at a trot, heading over the hills. 





Her Immortal, Imperial, and Celestial Majesty Princess Luna, first of her name, second of her blood, and, generally, fourth in the Canterlot Beat “Princess Popularity Poll,” was having a terrible day. 

Of course, simply being around for the day was already bad enough. By all accounts, Luna was a pony who needed her beauty sleep, and four in the afternoon generally saw Luna utterly zonked in her bedchambers. 

A typical day, then, certainly did not involve her royal highness chasing down a national heroine and a foul-tempered griffon herself. Nor did it involve, due to the mysterious indisposition of Ponyville’s own princess, her interrogating members of the public, which, as Luna had hilariously still not been given any guards or underlings of note, meant she was reduced to knocking on doors and asking members of the public for the whereabouts of the errant ambassador, much to the shock of those questioned. 





“How ‘bout you come back with a fucking warrant and – oh dear Celestia–”

“Please cease grovelling,” implored Luna over a levitated mug of coffee for the fifth time this morning.





Eventually, Luna decided that, in light of her failure to find either member of the group, she was best off waiting it out at Fluttershy’s cottage. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do anyway, and, in all honestly, there was a certain appeal to a nice day spent in the outdoors, far enough away from civilization to give a blessed solitude.

Well, solitude except for all the animals, that was.

“Unhand that, infernal rodent! ‘Tis an irreplaceable artifact, and one which our sister will be quite displeased with us losing!” She might even deny Luna her favorite modern luxury; canned soda. She found the bubbles to be delightful.

Undaunted, the brave little rabbit stood over the stolen crown which he had liberated from a napping Luna with a skillful kick.

Luna dropped her front legs into a crouch, drawing face to face with the smirking rabbit. The rabbit kicked her in the snout, sending her recoiling back with nose scrunched. “The cheek! Thou draw ever nearer to a swift demise, churl” 

The rabbit made a rude gesture, which was especially impressive considering his lack of thumbs.

Luna stamped a foot in frustration, horn lighting and dragging the rabbit, priceless tiara still firmly in paw, into the air. “Moon and Stars you are insolent! Were we in days a thousand years foregone a fine hat you would have already become.” She shook the rabbit slightly, crown clattering in his paws. “Ach! I may make a headpiece of thou yet, for it has been too long since we have practiced a bit of taxidermy. We wonder what fair Fluttershy would exact from us in blood-price for your death. It is a price we would gladly pay, so long as it does not exceed our, er, rather meager allowance.” 

Apparently convinced of the seriousness of Luna’s threat, the bunny held out the crown in a show of remorseful fealty. 

“Finally! You concede to–”

The rabbit dropped the second half of Equestria’s crown regalia into a mud puddle.  

“IMPUDENCE! THE TEMERITY!” The rabbit’s face stretched back, ears flagging in the force of Luna’s voice like wind socks. “I assure thee, thy demise will be painful, and we will not–”

“WHUMP.” By her first impression, a waterlogged sack of potatoes resounded from behind the princess.

Frowning, Luna gave the rabbit a few more shakes, finding, to her immeasurable disappointment, he could not produce meaty smacks on demand, which would have made for phenomenal throne-room hijinks. She flung the rabbit away, turning around to find – 

“Oh!”  

Luna had been expecting the ambassador to return, of course: even if Twilight’s pick for gamekeeper were to be truly incompetent, which she doubted Fluttershy was, a griffon with any sense of self-preservation could just about fly out without too much trouble, even if it would require a few treacherous stops. 

She had not expected, however, for that once-haughty griffon to return in quite so undignified of a state. Had she not known better, she, judging by the missing boot and tattered clothing, would have guessed the griffon had just gone nine rounds with a wolverine, an impression not helped by the impressive smears of blood on his previously lovely brocaded vest, nor by the sheer velocity at which he had just hit the ground. 

“Ambassador Ingvar? You were not injured in the field, were you? I must confess my skills in bone-setting have atrophied in the millennia, but will be able to provide at least rudimentary aid.”

The crumpled griffon grumbled a few times before returning to at least a semi-lucid state. “No, that will be unnecessary, Princess–” He froze. “P–Princess Luna?”

“You are correct, yes,” confirmed the Princess, who was currently attempting to shake mud off of her regalia.

The griffon shot up from the ground, launching himself into a mostly-steady kowtow. “Princess Luna! I beseech you, please do not take my initial reaction as a slight against one so radiant as yourself.”

Luna hated when the grovelers used the word “radiant.” That was her sister’s word. “Please, ambassador, do stand up. We took no offense from your arrival. We are no stranger to the vigor of a hunt, nor to the exhaustion which undoubtedly will follow.”

The ambassador did as he was told, standing back into a mostly erect position, although his wings continued to twitch. “A thousand thanks, your highness.” He checked a wing, pulling out an errant feather with a claw. “I must ask, though; what, exactly, brought one of the Diarchy out to such an, er, eclectic locale as your warden’s cottage?”

“Oh, here? The land is part of my demesne. ‘Tis a personal favorite for a lovely summer’s day.”

“Oh? It’s, er, quite the, ah, rustic retreat, Princess. Very in vogue, I hear.”

Luna chuckled. “We jest, ambassador. Cease your flattery.” Luna, satisfied with the removal of most of the mud from her crown, placed it into a rough spun burlap saddlebag for safe-keeping. “Nay, by our sister’s command we did come to speak with either yourself or with our, ah, duly appointed warden.” Luna frowned, peering around the griffon and glancing into the sky. “Er, speaking of, where is our warden, ambassador? She has not come to harm, has she?”

“No! Well, er, actually, yes, she has.” He tugged at his collar. “She had died. Tragically, you see. But bravely!”

Luna paused in her sky-gazing, eyes shooting back down to the griffon. “Died, you say?”





The girls stumbled over a hill, Rarity leaning heavily against Fluttershy’s side.  

“Good goddess, how long is a ten minute walk?” grumbled Rarity.

“Ten minutes,” deadpanned Fluttershy, wincing from the pressure Rarity put on her wounded wing. She though about asking her to swap to the other side, but that one was wounded too, so it really wasn’t much of a solution.  

“Oh, please don’t be pedantic, Fluttershy. I don’t have the energy to snark – shit!” Rarity stumbled over her forehooves, falling to the dirt with rump high in the air.  

Fluttershy paused, turning her head to look at her fallen comrade. “Need some help, Rarity?”

“Certainly,” she groaned. “Would you mind sticking one of those knives of yours into my carotid artery? I think that would be best at this point.”

Fluttershy rolled her eyes. “Come on Rarity, it’s only over this hill, we’re almost there.” She gently pulled Rarity to her hooves. “Besides, we’ve got to make it back so we can tell somepony about what happened.” She shuddered. “I certainly hope he doesn’t get away with murder, and seeing him brought to justice would be, um, satisfying.”

“Attempted,” Rarity corrected, “as we are still breathing. And yes, I suppose it would be. I must say I do relish the though of meeting him again, hopefully away from any trees this time." She muttered darkly. "And with rifle in hoof, preferably."

“Rarity!” Fluttershy admonished. “Surely you don’t mean that! Our princesses will be more than capable of handling the situation without our involvement. Furthermore, surely you know that – that – that – pffft” Fluttershy broke into laughter, falling back onto her haunches. It wasn’t quite a true full-bellied guffaw – this was still Fluttershy, after all – but it was still a deeply cathartic and unusually brash chuckle. “I – snort – almost made it though that one, phew.”

Rarity chuckled. “Mmm, yes, it is quite humorous, isn’t it? Rarity and Fluttershy, doom-driven mares set on vengeance like the protagonists of some sort of tawdry Western paperback.” She tugged at the sling of her rifle, swinging it around to her front, noting, with intense displeasure, the damage it had received. 

“Maybe we could ask Applejack if we could borrow her hat? It would seem, uh, fitting.” 

“I think at this point I’d settle for any hat.” Rarity rubbed a hoof among the charred remains of what used to be the forelocks of her mane with a scowl. “I fear I may die upon seeing a mirror.”

“I’ll be sure to cover mine once I get you inside.” Fluttershy stood back up. “Now come on, it’s just over this crest.”

“Urgh, another one?”

“It’s barely a hill anyway. Look, you can already see my house from – no, that’s impossible.” Fluttershy’s jaw dropped. “He wouldn’t.”

“What?” Rarity trotted up to the crest. “Your mysterious lover isn’t – you have to be shitting me.”





“We see,” said Luna, lying. “Ah, ambassador, do explain the incident with the manticore?”

“Ah, well, you see, your majesty, we came upon a juvenile manticore, which, as a knowledgeable griffon, I naturally wanted to avoid.”

“Naturally, yes.”

The griffon continued, fanning himself with a wingtip. “Er, yes, but, unfortunately, the white unicorn, ah, Rarity, I believe, she wanted to take the manticore for a trophy, and so fired a shot which merely clipped the beast.”

“Uh-huh.” Luna cocked an eyebrow. “Fair lady Rarity did attack a beast against both your and mistress Fluttershy’s protestations?”

The griffon nodded vigorously. “Oh yes! She was quite insistent, as she wanted the skin for a sort of hood. Quite macabre, in my estimation, albeit I suppose it does have a certain noble air of antiquity, you know.”

“We are quite familiar with the headgear, ambassador. The legions which you reference were rather more recent history to us once.” She smiled wistfully. Those were some awfully nice hats. “We presume this is where your compatriots met an untimely end?”

“Er, no, I managed to fight the manticore off with a well-placed knife thrust. I would have preferred a boar spear, of course, as the proximity to the quarry left my vest well within range of a striking paw, hence its current state.” He plucked a stray thread away from the former site of his top button.

“Really?” Luna’s other eyebrow joined its twin in elevation. “We must say, even we have never taken such a beast with naught but a dagger; a short tuck once, yes, but never a true sidearm.”  

“A ‘tuck’?”

“Ah, an, er, ‘estoc’ to you.” Luna grumbled. Damned foreigners. “Please continue, as we wish to have a clear account of the demise of two of our national heroes when we break the news to our sister. No doubt it shall make for a fine window.”  

The griffon squeaked slightly, taking an audible gulp. “Ah, well, after I dispatched the manticore it became immediately obvious that a pack of timberwolves had taken our scent, you see, which …”





“Why?” pondered Fluttershy aloud, now sitting on her rump at the crest of the hill. “Why would he come back here?’

“Outside of it being the first sign of civilization from out of the Everfree?” Rarity fully unslung the rifle, joining Fluttershy in sitting back on her haunches. “I suppose if one were to ransack a house for traveling supplies one would do best to pillage one surely uninhabited.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Fluttershy squinted her eyes. “It doesn’t look like he’s really, uh, moving, though. He’s kinda just standing there behind the house.”

“Maybe he’s looking for a way in?” Rarity opened the patchbox, eyeing the miraculously undamaged cartridge within. She lit her horn, pulling the – “Oh.” She gave her horn a quick tap, wincing from the contact but not feeling the telltale tingles of magical activity. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever burned out quite this badly.”

“Pain?” asked Fluttershy.

“Hardly any, really. It just doesn’t work.” Rarity squished her face in effort for a few seconds, then relaxed, her brows furrowing in concern. “Nope, nothing. I just thought about moving that cartridge with as much gusto as I could and I didn’t feel so much as a foalish tingle.”

“Is that, uh, normal?”

“Not even a little bit,” replied Rarity, who had resorted to pulling the cartridge from the patchbox by her teeth. She tore the paper, pouring a bit of the powder onto the priming pan and the rest down the now scuffed crown of the rifle’s muzzle and seating the ball with a quick hoof tap. “I can’t say I’ve even heard of quite such an extreme symptom.”

Fluttershy peered at Rarity’s horn, which looked like it had been subjected to an over-fired pottery kiln. “Uh-huh. I hope it’s not, uh, permanent.”

Rarity paused for a second, then shrugged, extracting the ramrod from under the barrel with her right hoof and giving the ball a few good whacks. “That’s a problem for future Rarity to worry about, who has all the time in the world to worry whilst she recuperates from a concussion on the crown’s dime. Present Rarity is putting that out of mind.”

“Seems, uh, pragmatic?” Fluttershy looked back at the griffon. “I still can’t tell exactly what he’s doing. I think he’s talking to somepony?” She squinted.

“Aren’t pegasi supposed to have good eyesight?” Rarity continued ramming the shot down the bore, the rod extending further into the barrel with every thrust. “Rainbow Dash can, if you believe her bragging, read mailbox numbers from the clouds, yes?”

“I’m, uh, nearsighted,” Fluttershy admitted. “Not much of a pegasus, I’m afraid.”

“Well!” Rarity scoffed. “That may be, but you are quite the specimen of ponykind nonetheless. I daresay few ponies of any flavor would be able to haul a grown mare through a forest.”  

Fluttershy blushed. “Oh, well, I suppose that is, um, fairly impressive, huh?”

“Very.” Rarity emphasized, finishing her ramming with a solid “thunk” before extracting and stowing the ramrod back into its holder. “Kindly fetch the winding key from my bags? I think if I tilted my head that far back my brains might run out of my ears.”

Fluttershy dutifully stuck her muzzle into the Rarity’s saddlebag, pulling out an embossed silver wrench in her teeth.  

Rarity nodded in confirmation, lifting the rifle towards her. “That’s it dear. Mind winding the action? It only takes a single turn.”

Fluttershy complied, placing the key onto the square peg and giving it a turn. She pulled away, walking back around Rarity to deposit the key back into the bag next to an empty canteen and, of all things, a mother of pearl snuff box.  

“Excellent.” Rarity lowered the rifle back into her lap. “Now, would you mind, ah, lying down in front of me? On your stomach, please."

Fluttershy eyed her suspiciously. “I guess I can. What for?”

“Shooting rest.” clarified Rarity, flipping the pyrite onto the wheel. “Do try and hold still, hmm?”





“Would you mind, ah, demonstrating the particulars of the scene? I must confess that I am having considerable difficulty envisioning the means by which you immolated two slavering timberwolves with naught but mistress Rarity’s, er–” Luna’s brow furrowed in thought. “–incendiary flint wheel, yes?”

“A lighter, your grace.” the griffon corrected. “And I would be more than happy to demonstrate the particulars of the scene.” He stepped backwards, gesturing with claw in a polite request for Luna to follow. “Now, imagine that I am backed into a great tree, yes?”

Luna rounded the griffon to observe from the indicated position. “You said they positioned themselves in a defensive screen to your front, correct?”

“Yes, as the wolves had gathered to the front and were closing. Now, by then I had noticed the thick carpeting of pine straw, and thus the potential for an attack with flame. Now…”





“You can make a shot from this, um, far away?” Fluttershy asked the mare currently draped across her back.

“Under ideal conditions? Easily.” Rarity lifted her head from the comb. “Under the present circumstances, and in my current condition?” She shrugged, readjusting the position of her foreleg against Fluttershy’s spine. “Probably. To be perfectly honest, I’m not even sure the powder is going to go off, so it’s all a bit of a crapshoot.”

“Well, let’s just hope – wait, he’s moving.” Fluttershy squinted. “He’s showing somepony, or, um, someone, maybe, something.”

“He does seem to be gesturing quite vigorously.  Perhaps he’s –” Rarity gasped. “–It’s Twilight. Twilight is at your house. Twilight is talking to him”

“What?” Fluttershy turned her head back toward her house. “Why would Twilight be at my house?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea, Fluttershy.” Rarity furrowed her brow. “Maybe Spike finally roused her and informed her of the situation? Perhaps she fashions her mysterious stimulant from woodland creatures?”

“I guess.” Fluttershy squinted. “Wait, that’s not Twilight! That’s Princess Luna!”   

Rarity scoffed. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous dear. If it’s unlikely Twilight would be here, it’s absolutely ludicrous to think Luna would be. She has much more important things to do, like, er…” Rarity thought for a second. “Well, no, she probably doesn’t, actually. But still!”

“See? And that pony is definitely blue.”

“Fluttershy, she’s wearing saddlebags. I seriously doubt the diarchy even owns a pair of saddlebags.” Rarity shook her head. “And where are her guards, or, for that matter, her regalia? We would quite easily be able to see the sun glinting off of the white gold and aquamarine.”

“Maybe she dropped it in a puddle or something, I don’t know,” retorted Fluttershy. “But there’s only one blue alicorn, and it’s not Twilight.”

“Hmph!” Rarity grumbled. “Well, I still think it’s Twilight.”

“Agree to, um, disagree, I guess.” Fluttershy shifted a little, the weight of the pudgy unicorn starting to cramp a wing. “Whatever the case, she’s right next to him, so maybe we should, uh, not do, um, this. I don’t want to, uh, shoot the princess on accident.”

“That might be wise, yes.” Rarity lowered her head back to the comb. “I can’t even say with any kind of confidence that the sights are undamaged. The zero could be wildly off, for all I know.”

“I don’t know what a ‘zero’ is, but, yeah, we might should wait,” agreed Fluttershy.  

The two mares sat in silence for a moment.   

Rarity spoke first. “…Or…”





“Now, pray tell us, did you lay eyes on the corpses of our subjects?”

“Er, no, your eminence. By their command, we fled at once from the scene when it became clear it was a forlorn hope.”

“We see. But you are confident they met their demise at that very scene?”

“Quite, princess.” He raised a claw, pointing at the princess for emphasis. “And we believe it was likely a most gruesome death. You see, the flames had spread to the limbs of a nearby pine, and–”

With a wet “crunch,” the ambassador dropped like a stone, his head now possessing exactly two more holes than it had a moment before. Judging by the rattling emanating from his chest, it would seem that Luna would never hear exactly how gruesome the Bearers supposed deaths were. A sharp crack reverberated from the hills to Luna’s left a mere moment later.

“Oh,” said Luna, stepping back to avoid the growing puddle. She turned her head to look at the sound, unable to discern much except a cloud of white smoke. “Methinks the ambassador may have spake a fair few falsehoods.”





“‘Substandard’ my alabaster ass, you pompous prick.” Rarity pulled back off of Fluttershy’s back, slinging the still smoking rifle back around her chest.  

“Whoa.” Fluttershy blinked a few times, ears still ringing  “He just, uh, dropped. I mean, he was up one second, then just, uh–” she mimed falling over with a hoof. “–done.”

“Of course. That is what generally happens upon destruction of the brain, as I understand it,” Rarity explained. “’Flaccid paralysis,’ they call it. Of course, I never suspected I’d need that chapter of Gamemaster Cooper’s book while reading it, but I suppose there’s a lesson there about seeing things to completion, hmm?”

“The brain?” Fluttershy shuddered. “I, uh, guess it’s good it was fast at least.”

“I would have nothing less, dear.” Rarity scoffed. “I may be a, er, murderer…?”

Fluttershy shrugged. “I think it depends on definition.”

Evidently satisfied, Rarity continued, “–but I am certainty not some sort of sadist hellbent on seeing my enemies suffer, or, at least, not enough of one to let a thinking creature bleed to death. That would be rather unchivalrous, don’t you think?”

“That’s true, I guess.” To be honest, Fluttershy hadn’t been entirely unenthused with the idea of sticking a knife into the griffon’s chest, and she wasn’t sure she would have had quite as good of aim as usual, either. Putting that out of mind, she stood up, working a kink out of her back with a catlike stretch. “But how could you be sure you wouldn’t hit the, er, a princess? She was, um, pretty close to his, uh, head.”

Rarity sniffed. “Sure?”

“Yes. Alicorns are pretty tough, but I don’t think they’re bulletproof.”

Rarity guffawed. “Oh, Fluttershy, I wasn’t sure.” She stepped off towards the cottage, only stumbling a little. “It was, ah, an acceptable risk.”

Fluttershy scrambled to follow. “I, um, guess.” She looked back at the cottage, spotting the as-yet undetermined princess prodding the newly expired with a hoof. “I think I’ll let you tell that one to the, uh, princess. I can’t imagine she’ll take it well.”

“That’s her problem, not ours, dear.” Rarity continued plodding along. “Besides, I’m sure we could talk Twilight out of a rage. Celestia knows how many rogues we’ve run up against who have managed the same.”

“And if it’s Luna?”

“Luna? Ha!” Rarity attempted to throw her mane back to punctuate the sentence, only realizing too late that she no longer had the hair to do so. She carried on nonetheless; after a day quite like this one, it would take more than that to literally break her stride. “Luna would probably be impressed, the warlock.”  





“My word!” Luna peered closely at the grisly remains of the once-proud ambassador. “The shot has passed cleanly through, and with such precision! A mere smidgen farther upwards and it would encountered naught but feathers.” Luna pulled back, sighing contentedly. “What a shame we have no such need nor, er, such funds for such a skillful rogue in our employ. Were this the halcyon days of yore, mistress Rarity would have accumulated quite the pile of our coin disposing of petulant barons and baronesses.”

Luna dragged her eyes away from the scene, looking to the left to find exactly what she had been expecting: two staggering mares whose coats, even in abhorrent states, positively identified them as the two ponies whom the griffon had assured had been torn to shreds by wolves. Luna waved a friendly hoof.





“Huh. I guess it was Luna after all. Who would have thought?”

“Well, um, I did.” Fluttershy waved back warily, suddenly feeling very exposed by her lack of forelocks to hide behind. Luna smiled broadly. “Do you think she’s mad at us?”

“Fluttershy, if Luna was mad at us we would have been vaporized by now,” Rarity countered. “Now, lets not keep her waiting, hmm?” She broke off into a trot.

“Uh, Rarity? Rarity?” Fluttershy called out after her. She broke into a canter and closed the distance, pulling alongside the smiling unicorn and slowing back down to a brisk trot. “Maybe you shouldn’t be, uh, trotting? You don’t want to get dizzy again, do you?”

“Oh, pish-posh, Fluttershy. I feel fine!” Rarity sped up her pace. The cottage, and princess, were only a few moments away now. “Honestly, dear, I’m not sure we need that doctor after all!”

“Rarity, your eyes still won’t focus together,”  

“Well, that may be, but the mailmare gets along fine, does she not?” Rarity slowed down, pulling to a stop as she rounded the corner of the cottage, which put her her face to face with the princess, whose face had contorted into a truly ferocious grimace at the sight and, perhaps worse, stench of the two mares. “Now, let’s say – hurk–” Rarity’s cheeks bulged out.

Fluttershy sighed. “Better, huh?” She rubbed Rarity’s back as she began to heave.  

Luna pulled back a hoof, retreating from the retching unicorn. “Er, the ambassador did not poison either of thou, did he?”

“No, she’s just heavily concussed and doesn’t listen to me.” Fluttershy shooed Luna with a hoof. “You’ll want to, um, step backwards a little.”

“Why?” Luna cocked her head. “Surely we are far enough–”

Rarity, as if to prove her wrong, promptly vomited onto Luna’s mercifully unshod hooves.

“Oh,” stated Luna. She shook a befouled hoof. “We see. Doth thou keep a wash-pail handy?”

“Uh, no.” Fluttershy pointed to a coiled garden hose hanging from the wall of the house. “You’re welcome to wash yourself off with the hose, though.”  

Luna’s horn lit, unspooling the hose from the hanger and pulling the end towards herself. She turned the spigot and directed the water onto her hoof. “Oh, we fear we may never tire of this miraculous invention. Why, in days past, we would have had to summon a whole crew of servants to prepare for our weekly bath.” She chuckled. “Now? A singular hose delivers all the – oh!”

Rarity stole the hose out of Luna’s field, thrusting the end into her mouth and chugging down deep gulps. Water ran out of the corners of her mouth in a most inelegant manner.

“Um, Rarity, maybe you should take it easy with the water,” Fluttershy cautioned.

Whether by deference to Fluttershy’s advice or desperate need for air, eventually something won out over her thirst, and Rarity yanked the hose out, moving it to above her head. The water first ran gray, then a veritable cornucopia of sickly colors as it picked up various unspeakables from her coat. She sucked in a mighty breath. “Oh dear Celestia–”

Luna frowned. They never picked her.

“–I’m never, ever going to complain about tap water again.” She moved the hose to her front, noting, with no small revulsion, the off-yellow runoff from the accumulated sick that had stuck in her coat. She, noticing the quite insufficient effect it was having, dropped the hose and turned to Fluttershy. “I don’t think this is going to cut it, Fluttershy. Would you mind if I used your shower, dear?’  

“Not at all,” Fluttershy reassured. “And feel free to call for the doctor once you're inside; we'll take care of the griffon. Do you need me to point you there?”

“I remember.” Rarity had already started walking towards the back door. She paused, then, evidently remembering her baggage, unstrapped her rifle and bags and left them by door. “Don’t let the princess steal anything, hmm?” she added, heading inside and closing the door behind her.

As soon as Rarity cleared the threshold, Fluttershy slumped, releasing hours of tension with a mighty sigh. She picked the up the hose and pulled off her hat, tossing it aside and pulling her mane out of the ponytail, letting it run onto her shoulders. She turned the hose onto herself, closing her eyes and reveling at the heavenly sensation of cool water washing out the accumulated sweat.

“Er, we, uh,” Luna started.

Fluttershy opened one eye, peering through the rushing water at the princess.  

“Thou do realize that–”

“Stop,” Fluttershy commanded. She might not have had the horn here, but her tone unmistakably carried as much presence as Luna’s blood ought to have.

“Well, it is simply that thy–”

“NO!” Fluttershy threw down the hose, water spilling into a flowerbed. “Don’t you dare “thou” me, Luna!” She stuck her hoof in the goddess’ chest, pushing right above Luna’s clavicle. “I might not be as well-read as Twilight, but I still know my ‘thees’ and ‘thines,’ and if you think you can talk down to me after what you put us through you’re out of your mind, princess.” She stamped a back hoof, hitting the ground hard enough to crack down to the nailbed. She didn’t even notice. 

“Nay! We meant no offense!” Luna’s eyes had shot open, shooting back and forth from Fluttershy’s furious gaze to the hoof stuck above her ribs. “We just, er, felt remorse at the state at which we find you–”

“SHUT UP!” Fluttershy swung her right hoof around, back-hoofing the immortal diarch of Equestria with force enough to make even an alicorn reel. “I don’t need your fucking pity, Luna,” she spat, pointing a wing towards the door. “She’s the one who really got hurt out there, not me. I’ve just got two broken wings. That will heal” She pointed at her forehead. “Did you see her horn? It doesn’t work anymore. It’s just broken. And I don’t know if it’s going to come back.” There were tears in her eyes. “She might not be showing it right now, princess, she might not even know it now, but I guarantee she’s going to go into that shower and bawl, because she might have just crippled herself. She might never make another dress, because of him, because of you, because of f-fucking Twilight, and because of me. And now there’s a dead manticore in the forest and a dead griffon in my fucking backyard, and – and, and oh my gosh.” She raised her right hoof in front of her eyes, holding it in front of Luna. “I just slapped the princess.”

Luna, who had now mostly recovered from the initial shock, rubbed her cheek; to Fluttershy’s immense relief, rather than immediately flaying Fluttershy alive with beams of awesome magic or, worse, transporting her to the moon, she instead broke out into laughter. “Goodness!” she guffawed. “Fair Fluttershy has an arm like a champion pugilist. Who would have suspected? We see who your fiery rabbit takes after.”

Fluttershy looked up from the ground, a single eye peeking around drenched bangs. “You, um, aren’t going to have me, uh, beheaded, are you?” 

“Ha!” Luna fell back onto her haunches, clutching her gut. “Beheaded! Hysterical!” Luna wiped a few tears from her eye. “Imagine, the soft and frivolous folk of this time’s Canterlot attending a drawing and quartering in our palace’s courtyard. The horror on their faces would be sublime.” Luna gradually settled down, a last few chuckles busting out. “Nay, Fluttershy, your head shall remain firmly attached to your neck.” She sniffled. ‘Of course, it is not as if we have the authority to condemn anypony to anything, really, but we wouldn’t have ordered your execution regardless.”

“Oh, that’s, uh, good.” Fluttershy pulled her hair a little farther back, blushing. “I’m, um, sorry for hitting you. Twice. You, um, probably didn’t deserve that.”  

“Nay, Fluttershy, there is no need to apologize.” Luna laid down next to her, draping a comforting wing across the smaller pony’s frame. “Your fury is, er, understandable considering the circumstances, albeit your remorse at striking us does come as some surprise in light of your apparent willingness to shoot the griffon a mere hair’s breadth from our own face, which does speak to a certain nonchalance about the potential of our bodily harm.”

“It was, um, Rarity’s idea?” Fluttershy offered.

“We see. We will, ah, lend her a considerable doubt and assume she was simply highly confident in her abilities, and will be sure to commend her marksmareship once she had ceased bathing.” She sighed, “Nay, we freely admit that our failure to more closely read the letter prepared by the palace servant did cause much of your suffering. Such negligence does not reflect well on us.”

“No, it’s not your fault,” said Fluttershy, pulling a little closer to the princess. “Well, no, that’s not true, it, um, actually is your fault, but it’s also Celestia’s and Twilight’s fault too, and it’s the least your fault out of all of the, um, faults.”

“Truly? Our sister?” Luna cocked her head in confusion. “We are more than aware of Twilight’s incompetence, but our sister as well?”

“Yeah, her too.” Fluttershy sighed, shaking her head. “Have you ever read any of the treaties she wrote?”

“Er, no, we have not.” It was Luna’s turn to blush. “Our sister does not let us read documents of the realm. Or much else, for that matter.”

“They’re terrible. Talk to her about, uh, reciprocity some time.”

“Oh.” Luna pulled back her wing. “We’ll be sure to, but, um, she is not particularly wont of listening to us.”

“Thanks.” Fluttershy took a deep breath and stood up. “Now, uh, would you mind, um, grabbing that shovel by the door?” Fluttershy pointed out said lawn implement. “We probably ought to, um, get to burying the ambassador before the doctor gets here and sees him. Or you. Or you with him.” Fluttershy rubbed the back of her neck. “Or before the bears get him. It’s probably best they don’t get a taste for, uh, griffons. Might make official visits to Twilight a little awkward.”

Luna scoffed. “Bury?”

“Uh, yes.” Fluttershy furrowed her brow. “Unless you have someplace you can store a, uh, dead griffon.”

Luna walked over to the griffon, placing a forehoof on his haunches, which were mostly unscathed. “Fluttershy, have you forgotten? We can simply teleport the cadaver elsewhere.” She gestured with a wing for Fluttershy to follow. “Know you any particularly suitable locations?”

Fluttershy thought for a minute. “That depends. How good are you at pyromancy?”
> A Final Fireside Chat.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As it turned out, the answer to that question was “quite.”

“Wow,” said Fluttershy simply, her eyes wide in alarm at the sheer scale of the flames pouring out of the former root hollow turned crematorium, the intense heat long since having dried her formerly waterlogged mane. She tucked a run of brown feathers into the band of her hat. It was a little morbid, sure, but hers had gone missing, and she needed to procure a replacement from somewhere.

“’Tis quite impressive, no?” Luna chuckled. “Of course, I must admit that there is some showmareship to this display, but the infernal temperatures generated do serve a pragmatic purpose as well. Bodies are really quite difficult to immolate, as it were, as one must render the bones to a brittle state such that they can be thoroughly mixed into the ash.”

“I’ll, um, keep that in mind next time I, uh, burn a body.”  

“‘Tis an important step, and one which many murderers mistakenly omit.” Luna gestured backwards to the corpse of the manticore, who was almost entirely untouched from the incident a few hours earlier. “We must inquire, though, as to why you decided to omit the corpse of your previous quarry from being burned.”

“It’s better for the ecosystem. Plenty of scavengers could use the food, and I’m not trying to, uh, hide that body.”  

“Reasonable enough. We must admit it would make for a decent trophy, if one had the stomach for such a display.” Luna frowned slightly. “Although the mane is a mite thin, upon second inspection.”

“It was a juvenile.” Fluttershy pawed at the ground. “Um, so, anyway, are we, uh, that is Rarity and I, um, going to cause an, uh, international incident?”

“Possibly? We must admit we haven’t the slightest idea of the state of diplomacy of the realm, and as such are unaware of any particulars of the relationship between our sister and the ambassador's particular petty kingdom. Of course, knowing griffons, it is equally likely his liege has already been slaughtered by his subjects over some imagined slight whilst he resided here, so the whole ordeal may be moot anyway.” Luna shrugged. “One would be wise to not tell my sister anything regardless. We, for what it is worth, will simply be stating to her that the noblegriffon did venture into the Everfree Forest and never returned thence, and that we suspect he had caused his own demise.”

“That’s kind of true, I guess.” Fluttershy pulled the initial royal letter out of her single intact saddlebag, tossing it into the flames. “Probably ought to, uh, get rid of that too.”

“It would be prudent, yes.” Luna rubbed a comforting hoof across Fluttershy’s withers.  

“Thanks.” Fluttershy watched the flames dance out from under the tree, trying her hardest to ignore the stench of burning feathers. “So, uh, griffons, um, kill their kings often?”

“And queens, on occasion, yes. I verily believe them to be among the more, er, impulsive races of the world, as you no doubt encountered.”

Fluttershy shook her head. “Yeah. That’s a, uh, word for it. Not much of a listener.”

Luna snorted. “‘Not much of a listener!’ Forsooth, fair Fluttershy, your talents in caring for beasts may only be matched by your talents in understatement. Nay, listening is not the strong suit of the average griffon. Passionate? Intense? Wonderful lovers? Absolutely. But terribly impulsive.” Luna rubbed her face with a hoof. “Oh! Listen to us prattle on like an old maid over a game of dice. One would think we had forgotten the carnal pleasures of our fourth husband in the nigh on sixty score years that have passed.”

"Oh!" Fluttershy's eyes widened. "I, uh, didn’t know you ever married, or, uh, married a griffon for that matter. Sorry for your, um, loss.”

Luna rolled her eyes. “Do not be, Fluttershy. We have long since ceased to grieve. Of course, we did order his execution. Beheaded by a single swipe of a skilled Prench headsmare. It was most impressive to witness, let me assure you. Cleft by a single stroke!”

“Um, oh.” Fluttershy stared at the ground. “What for?”

“We caught him buggering one of the scullery maids. ‘Twas quite the scandal.” Luna coughed. “It was, er, a different time, you see. I assure you it was quite normal for capital punishment to be administered for royal infidelity. It was assuredly not some sort of personal vendetta, you see.”

“Uh-huh.” Fluttershy turned to face the Princess, both because she wanted to address her directly and because she could feel her eyelashes uncomfortably curling in the heat. “So, um, princess, we, uh, we were working for the crown here, right?”

“Correct.” replied Luna, who had tossed a fallen branch into the fire with a flick of her horn. “Well, you were, undoubtedly. We would need to examine the aforementioned treaty to determine exactly in what capacity mistress Rarity was operating.”

“Right.” Fluttershy stated. “Well, um, regardless, we’re both pretty beat up, so we’ll need some, uh, treatment, and money for treatment.” She frowned. “Also, you might owe Rarity anywhere between six and ten thousand bits for damages to her property. I would ask her, although I would ask her before she, uh, gets more bullets. Best to not take any chances.”

Luna winced. “Oh.” It was her turn to paw at the ground. “That’s, er, not going to be, um, possible.”

Fluttershy squinted in confusion. “What do you mean, not possible?”

Luna sucked a breath through her teeth. “We are, ah, somewhat short on funds. Terminally so, perhaps.”

“What do you mean, short on funds?” Fluttershy’s raised a hoof for emphasis, mouth agape in utter befuddlement and usual vocal hitches fading away. “You’re a princess. How can you be broke? How much money do you have?”

Luna unbuttoned her cheap saddlebag, which, as Fluttershy inspected it more closely, seemingly had a logo for a brand of flour on the inside of the flap. The princess pulled out a small coin purse with her magic, unbuttoning the clasp. “Well, we have, er–” she looked a little closer. “–six of the gold ones, and five of the silver ones. That is a farthing, yes? Or is that a groat?”

“SIX AND A HALF BITS!?” Fluttershy shouted. Were she Rarity, she would have surely burst into flame. “HOW THE FUCK DO YOU ONLY HAVE SIX AND A HALF BITS, PRINCESS?!”

Luna shrank away from the verbal assault. “Mercy, Fluttershy! Stay your tongue, we beseech you!”

Fluttershy panted in rage, nostrils flared, but did, to her credit, cease her assault for the time being.  

“You must understand, fair Fluttershy! We haven’t had the chance to scrounge yet this week, you see? The Chamber of Lords meets only on Thursday and Friday, and the children’s tours come but once on Saturday morning!”  

“Children’s tours? What are you–” Fluttershy slid a hoof down her face in exasperation. “–oh my goddess, they don’t pay you, do they? Your sister doesn’t give you any money. You’re picking coins up off the floor.”

Luna nodded vigorously.

“You have to be fucking kidding me. Is that why you’re wearing saddlebags made out of flour sacks?”

Luna nodded again. “Er, yes. We do not have access to the garmets in the Royal Wardrobe outside of events prescribed by our sister, nor can we afford to procure a fine pair for ourselves as she does, so we have, um, made a pair with sacks from the pantry.” Luna smiled weakly. “But we made sure to use the best ones, and we even managed to steal a roll of real thread from the palace tailors for the stitching!”  

Fluttershy sank to the earth, wings splayed in defeat as she rolled her muzzle into the dirt. “No, that’s not possible. Our princesses are wonderful, and kind, and have money, and don’t live like vagrants.”

“Well, our sister sure doesn’t.” Luna grumbled. “She buys fineries from Marelan every week.” She shook her head. “But it’s not as if we have nothing, Fluttershy!”

Fluttershy raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Why, not four weeks ago we saved up a whole fifty bits to procure a wonderfully soft stuffed batpony from the palace giftshop, and once a week we have enough money to use the wonderful machine that dispenses cans of sugared soda with a press of a button!” Luna frowned. “Only sometimes, though. Our dear sister tells us we shan’t drink more than one a month, but we can usually engage in enough skulduggery to get past her watchful eyes. Oh!” Her horn lit up again, pulling the mostly clean tiara out of the bag and resting it on her head. “We almost forgot we must clean our diadem before returning home, lest she lower the limit to one a year.”

“One a year – wait, it’s your crown, isn’t it? Why does she care what happens to it?”

“Oh, well, yes, it is our crown, as this one was a gift from our third husband, but the rest of the regalia belongs to the crown as a whole, and it is imperative that it all matches.” Luna rubbed the back of her head with a hoof. “That is why we, er, are not wearing the rest of it. She does not let us take it out the palace except by special permission.”

Fluttershy came back to her hooves. “What does she let you do, anyway?” She held out a hoof, striking out imaginary items. “You can’t read treaties, you don’t get any money, you can’t even wear your own clothes?”

“Well, yes, that is true, but we do hold the Night Court!” Luna answered confidently. “On, er, Sundays only. We don’t have very many petitioners, and those guards are expensive.”

“Uh-huh. How many do you get?” 

“Well, er, sometimes the custodians do lose their way and enter the chambers by error, but if you discount them, er, one?”

Fluttershy eyed her suspiciously. “Was it the ambassador?”

Luna nodded shamefully. “You are correct. He was looking for the gallery, and we directed him to a butchery which did exist previously. Several hours later we were awoken by the secretary asking for a signature and, er, so forth and so forth until, er–” she gestured behind her “–that”

Fluttershy sighed again. “We’re never getting paid, are we?”

Luna shook her head emphatically. “Stay your tongue once again, Fluttershy! That we did not say! We may not have any money, and Celestia is, er, out of the picture, but did you forget the third princess? We know for a certainty Twilight draws quite the government stipend, one quite large enough to fund both Rarity’s and your convalescence, as well as any other expenses accrued whilst on this journey. You may need to resort to, ah, physical means, but we believe she would acquiesce without too much in the way of tribulation.”

“Oh.” Fluttershy thought about it for a second. “Yes, I guess that would work. We’ll just have to catch her while she’s awake and coherent. Or, incoherent, actually. That might be better.”

“See? We’re sure you will think of a means by which to liberate Twilight of her wealth.” Luna smiled. “Now, is there anything else you need from us? Preferably something that costs, er, less than six bits?’

Fluttershy thought for a second, then looked back at the corpse of the manticore. She remembered a comment Rarity had made about the suitability of hats. “Actually, um, yes. Do you know anything about taxidermy? Rarity needs a hat, and, um, it would be a shame to let the manticore go totally to waste.” She giggled. “It would be hilarious, too.”

Luna cocked her head in confusion. “Taxidermy? What does that have to do with hat–” Her eyes went wide in realization, then excitement, hooves almost clopping in glee. “No, Fluttershy, you don’t mean?”

“I do.” Fluttershy nodded. “Do you need a knife? I have a few you can choose from…”





Her Majesty Twilight Sparkle peeled her face off her desk at five in the afternoon, eyes crusted shut and nose burning.

“Urrrggghhhh, Spikkkeeee…” She reached out a hoof onto the wooden surface, scattering aside a few tiny envelopes and a state letter as she reached for her ever-present glass of water. She fumbled a few times, hoof hitting naught but air. “Spikkkeeee, where’s my water…”

“Looking for this, dear?” A dulcet, feminine voice cut through the haze in Twilight’s mind, right before a bucket full of warm water likewise cut through the crud on her face.

“R–R–Rarity?” Twilight shook the sleep from her eyes. “What, what are you doing in my house this early in the morning?”

“It’s five in the afternoon.” A different voice, this one a little sweeter, a little lighter. “And close. Rarity didn’t throw the water. I did.”

Twilight finally wrenched her eyes open, spotting her two assailants. Fluttershy had both of her wings bound to her side and was wearing a faintly blood-speckled felt hat, complete with a run of brown feathers. Rarity was wearing, of all things, the top of a manticore’s head as a hood like an ancient centurion. 

Distressingly, both were wielding uncomfortably large wrenches. 

“Let’s talk about money, Twilight.” said Rarity.
> Epilogue: YOU HAVE A COLLECT CALL FROM "oh-please-pick-up-I-only-need-twenty-bit-" DO YOU ACCEPT CHARGES?
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ugh.” The secretary pulled down her magazine, peering over it with glaring green eyes. “Look, all you have to do is pick up the receiver and tell the operator the number.”

Luna blushed. “Ah, okay. That doesn’t seem terribly difficult.” She paused, hoof hovering over the hoofset. “Er, pray tell, attendant, what, er, ‘number’ do you speak of? I’m not sure I can remember the address offhoof.”

She rolled her eyes, punctuating with a well rehearsed “huff.” “Just tell the operator who you want to talk too and where they live. It’s not that fuh-riggin hard, m’kay?’ She stood up with a start, folding her magazine into a roll and sticking it into a satchel bag. “I’m on break anyway, and it’s not my job to teach the Luddite princess how not to hurt herself with my telephone when your sister isn’t paying me.” She broke into a prim trot. “Don’t follow.”

Luna looked back at the phone on the wall, then, with some trepidation, removed the earpiece and flipped the switch-hook. The phone crackled to life, first producing nothing but fuzz, then, after a soft “click,” the businesslike tones of a mare. 

“Canterlot Operator, to whom may I connect you?”

Luna stared at the receiver.

After a short pause, the operator repeated herself. “Canterlot Operator, please state your intended recipient.”

Luna continued to sit in silence, still unsure as to what, exactly, constituted the correct etiquette. Was the operator a “thou,” for example? Or a “you?”

“Canterlot Operator, please respond or I will close this line to conserve circuits.”

Luna was finally spurred to action.“Wait! We, er, are present, yes.”

“Canterlot Operator, thank you for responding. Please state the interchange and number you are attempting to reach.”

“Interchange?” Luna furrowed her brow. “We are afraid we do not understand. Would an, er, street address be sufficient?” 

“No, it–” the operator audibly sighed, pulling back from the hoofset and muttering almost, but not quite, out of earshot. “Another geezer, great.” She moved the receiver back to her mouth. “No, a street address is not sufficient. If necessary, I can assist you in finding an exchange and subscriber, although please note that any services utilized will incur a fee.” 

“Oh.” Luna thought for a second. “Billed to whom, exactly?”

“Based on your currently utilized telephone, your billing will go to – Oh! This is a palace line. In that case, billing would go to the Offices of the Crown directly. Lucky you.”

“We see.” That meant Luna wasn’t paying. “In that case, would you mind looking for a, ah, Rarity in Ponyville?"

“Certainly. I would normally ask if this was a collect call for the long-distance charges, but I assume that money is not an issue, considering you are operating off the princess’s dime. I’ll patch you through to the Ponyville exchange. One moment please.”

The line went dead with another fizz, then, after a few seconds, popped back into life.

“Ponyville Exchange, where may ah direct your call?” It was a stallion this time.

“Ah, we would like to speak to a, er, mistress Rarity. We believe the particular locale is–”

The operator chuckled. “Naw, I don’t need that. I’ll ring her and patch you though once she picks up.” A faint “click”  emanated from the telephone, a button having been punched to alert the called party. “Gee, you sure do have a funny manner of speakin’ ma’am. You some kind of royalty?’

Luna decided to play it safe. “Simply, er, foreign.”

The operator was silent for a moment. “Yeah, ‘spose that makes sense. You a griffon or – oh, she’s picked up, I’ll tell her who’s calling.” He pulled the microphone away, speaking into the other side of the line. “Hello? Miss Rarity? This is the operator speaking, you have – oh, I’m fine, thank you for asking, mighty kind – anyway, there’s a foreign lady on the phone from a Canterlot exchange I don’t recognize. Want me to patch you through?” A pause. “Right, I’ll put her through.”

The line once again went dead, this time coming back to life with a rustling of air. 

“Ah–”

The long-sought mare’s voiced pierced through the speaker. “Look, we don’t know how you got this number, nor any sort of idea about how I could be involved with any sort of incident with foreign nationals, but I will decidedly not be answering any questions. You can direct any further action to my lawyer, one mister–”

Luna chuckled. “Lady Rarity! Worry not, it is merely your, er, favorite princess.”

The mare on the line squealed in pleasure. “Oh! Oh! Cadence, darling, how are you? Did you get my package I sent off? I know mail out the frozen wastes can be dreadfully slow, but I am simply antsy with anticipation. That scarf is real alpaca, you know. It was quite the ordeal to convince them to give up that much wool.”

Luna frowned. “Er, no, your, ah, second favorite princess, then.”

“Oh.” Rarity sniffed. “Right. Of course. My apologies, Luna, I hope you didn’t cause you any offense.”

“Fear not, we don’t find your, er, assumption contemptuous in the slightest.” She really didn’t: second place out of four was eminently respectable. 

“That’s a relief. And, might I add, I do apologize for vomiting out your hooves. I’m sure you understand it wasn’t anything personal, just, er, a product of rather unfortunate timing.”

“It was understandable. We must offer our own thanks to you in return for not, ah, shooting us by mistake, as well as a congratulations for your exemplary marksmareship.”

Rarity giggled. “Oh, you flatter me, Luna. Please don’t mention it.” A pause. “Er, that was a rather more serious request. The operators do listen in on these lines on occasion, and so far the, ah, “warden” and I have avoided any sort of legal scrutiny, and I would prefer to keep it that way.”

“Of course. Our mistake,” Luna blushed. 

“Right, right, well, anyway, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

“Well, we presume the, er–” Luna coughed “–business with the youngest princess is settled, no?”

“More or less.” A sigh came through the phone. “She didn’t have much in the way of cash, as it turns out, but we, er, managed. Something of a long story, really. Fluttershy could explain it better than I could.” The mare at the other end of the line turned away from the receiver. “Fluttershy, darling, would you mind telling – ah, never mind.” She turned back to the phone. “You’ll have to excuse her for a moment, she’s a little emotional right now, something of an, er, messy sobbing wreck, really.”

“Oh! Please do not bother her, then. It is only natural that such a kind soul as hers would have difficulty coming terms with some of the more, er, grisly events of the past few days.”

“What? Oh, no,” Rarity scoffed. “She’s more or less over that, all things considered. It’s more that we raided Twilight’s cellars and, ah, liberated an entire wheel of Blue Stilton and all of her wine, which, in turn, is the first time Fluttershy’s had cheese in three years.” A pause. “Sorry, four years, she’s saying. It really is an exemplary wheel, though; who would have thought Twilight would have such a fine taste for cheese and wines?”

“We see.” Luna scratched the back of her head. When was the last time she had any cheese, either? “Regardless, I wanted to see if your accounts had been settled with Twilight as I would, er, quite like to see a film in the local cinema, and–”

Rarity coughed politely. “Right, Luna, I really do hate to cut you off so suddenly, and, really, I’m honored that you would fancy somepony like me, but I’m afraid that the, er, castle gates do not quite swing that way.”

“Oh.” Luna furrowed her brow. “What? We’re not entirely confident we understand what this has to do with courtship. Or, er, castles.”

Rarity scoffed. “Well, you did ask me to a movie. I don’t see why else you would bring up a cinema after asking about how busy I was unless – wait, do hold on a second--” Rarity pulled away from the telephone. “Six bits? Really? So she’s asking because – oh, my mistake.” 

“Er, perhaps we should have led with that, upon second thought.”

“Right.” Rarity had moved back to the microphone. “I see, my mistake for assuming. Is it true, then?”

“Yes.” Luna coughed. “We bought a soda from the machine, so we are presently down two bits from there.”

“I see, how unfortunate. Well, unfortunately, Luna, we can’t really help you with that, as we, ah, already spent all of it, and thus have no bits to give.”

“You what?”  Luna didn’t know exactly how much money the two had convinced Twilight to rid herself of, but she did know her monthly stipend, and was an improbably large amount of money for anypony to spend in three days. 

“We spent all of the money, or, rather, sold everything she gave us, and then spent all of that money. It was, er, rather hot money, you see, which needed to be turned into assets fairly quickly.”

“Hot money?”

“You know, money you need to get rid of due to, ah, potential legal circumstances of possession? Honestly Luna, it’s like you’ve never laundered cash before.”

Luna shrugged. “We suppose not. Generally, in our day we just put the commander’s head on a pike when we ransacked something. What did Twilight have that was under so much scrutiny, anyway?”

Rarity chuckled. “Well, let’s just say, for the sake of a hypothetical argument, of course, that Twilight had an entire shoebox full of, uh, questionably legal study aids that she, under the mistaken assumption that we were operating some sort of intervention, bequeathed to us. Now, as neither Fluttershy nor I need such, er, assistance, it is entirely possible that we may have sold the entire box to an unscrupulous contact in the fashion industry and, hence, were left with thirty eight thousand bits we needed to spend, er, immediately. Hypothetically, of course.”

“Right. And what, pray tell, did you spend it on? Nothing frivolous, we hope.”

“Frivolous? Of course not–”





Rarity pulled away from the telephone, taking a long pull from a gold-plated cigarette holder. “Honestly, Fluttershy, would you call what we bought ‘frivolous?’”

Fluttershy paused from cutting pears (the natural accompaniment for Stilton and port, of course) with a beautifully wrought basket-hilted schiavona with a pattern-welded blade. “Probably not, no.”





“–No, I assure you, the majority of things we purchased were nothing more exciting than medical care and pet food, although I will admit that, after picking out something nice for our loved ones we may have, er, procured some flashier things. It’s all spent regardless.”

“Oh.” Luna kicked at the floor softly. “That is a shame. We had really looked forward to seeing a film in a theater for once. Our sister buys the ones she likes on film for the palace cinema, but her tastes and ours are, er, diametrically opposed. You can only imagine our disappointment our first witnessing of a ‘romantic film’ when it contained neither the Matters of Roan nor Prance but instead the inane trials of a pair of clueless suitors.”

“Mmm, I can see how that could be an issue.” There was a pause. “Er Luna, as opposed to begging us for a few bits, have you considered, say, confronting your sister? Surely you – wait, never mind, you’re oh for one on that front, probably best to not try again. But surely there’s a councilor or cabinet member to whom you can speak about this, right?

“We suppose there may be.” Luna sucked a breath through her teeth. “Although we must admit most of the attendants around the palace are not particularly pleased at out presence, and those closer to our sister are, um, a bit scary.”

“Oh?” Rarity chuckled. “Surely you don’t mean to tell me you’re afraid of, oh, what’s her name? Inkwell, is it? That’s the dour looking one who sticks to your sister’s flanks, right?”

“Well, not afraid, per say.” Luna looked around, not seeing the eponymous secretary. “It’s more that we are not entirely convinced she is a real pony. She only responds to four or five set questions, and as far as we can tell she doesn’t, er, sleep. We personally believe she is some sort of construct in perpetual servitude to our sister.”

“How disturbing.” There was a gulp from the other side of the line, although it was unclear whether it was Rarity swallowing in fear or drinking her way through the spoils of Twilight's cellar. “But isn’t the Minister of the Exchequer responsible for the treasury anyway? I can’t say I’m the most politically informed pony in the world, nor did I, er, pass civics in high school, but I believe that’s correct, yes?”

Luna gasped. “Miss Rarity, how could we have overlooked that! Of course we should have consulted with our councilors first! Brilliant thinking.” 

Rarity scoffed, “Well, I wouldn’t have exactly called it brilliant, more the ‘first action I would take,’ but your complement is appreciated nonetheless–”

Luna continued. “Why, their meeting should be concluding in but an hour or so! It should be no problem at all to get him alone and vulnerable!”

“Er, vulnerable? I hardly think any sort of violence will be necessary, Princess–”

Luna flipped the switch-hook back down, ending the call, then placed the earpiece back onto the receiver and stepped back from the desk. She looked around, and, not seeing the secretary, spun a palace directory around on the surface, opening it to a map of the grounds.  

“Armory, armory, armory…”





Rarity looked down at her earpiece, which had suddenly and worryingly gone dead.  

“What was that about?” asked Fluttershy, who took another sip of Twilight’s wine; in this case, a phenomenal 30 year tawny port.

“Well, lots of things, really,” replied Rarity noncommittally, “but I have a terrible suspicion we’ll be taking a trip to Canterlot in the near future.”

“Voluntarily? Or, uh, in, um, custody?”

Rarity thought for a second, “Not sure, to be perfectly honest. I think it could go either way depending on how exactly our beloved princess of the night behaves.” 

Fluttershy thought for a second, then shrugged. “Not really anything we can, uh, do about that, then.” She held up the bottle. “More wine?”

Rarity picked up her jewel-encrusted goblet with her teeth, her horn still out of commission. “Gladly.”