1. Look at Ponyville

Look at Ponyville.

Start in its north and east. Look at its apartment buildings and its residential area. Most of them are less than twenty years old, the result of a steadily rising population. Ponyville is considered a hick town by many in Equestria, but it is growing, benefitting from the rail station that passes through it, and its proximity to Canterlot itself. It is still a rural, farming community through and through, but over the past twenty years its population has increased by a quarter.

But pay attention to the buildings. Note the state of them. The walls are strong, still, but there is not a single completely intact window to be found. The most robust and luckiest windows still feature a few cracks. Most feature holes. Some of them are gone altogether, shattered, or even actually missing, some enterprising pony having decided to take the time and effort to actually remove them.

Look inside any home. You’ll see beds, and sofas, and cushions for sitting on. They’re all in place, but some of them have clearly only been pushed out of the way, not in their normal positions – that is, when they’re there at all, and not missing due to being broken or unrecoverable, or just plain having gone missing. Note the prevalence of stains, stains everywhere, food stains and drink stains and stains of a variety that are thankfully unidentifiable at a glance.

Move to Ponyville’s east now. The wide-open plaza in this section of Ponyville should be bustling with ponies. This is the farmer’s market, where ponies set up stalls and kiosks and hawk their wares – mostly farmers, appropriately enough, but the other businesses of Ponyville also occasionally set up little side-shops here, as well as any travelling salesponies. On a day like today, the farmer’s market should be bustling and loud, full of ponies buying and ponies selling and ponies talking.

It is not full. Indeed, it’s near empty. If one didn’t know any better, one would think that some kind of massive depression had hit Ponyville’s economy. The few ponies in the market certainly seem depressed, even the big red stallion manning the apple stand. The buyers don’t have a lot of money with which to buy, and the sellers don’t have much stock to sell.

Now move to Ponyville’s south, then up to its west. The south and the west of Ponyville are dominated by ‘proper’ businesses – that is, stores, with windows and wares kept inside four sturdy walls. This being a small farming town, the owners of the businesses frequently live in apartments over their shops. Ponyville has a little bit of just about everything available to its citizens, or it normally would. Not right now. The windows of the businesses, the interiors of the stores, have fared little better than the homes in Ponyville’s north. Here, a clothier is frantically trying to scrub graffiti off of her storefront. There, a candymare is still sweeping trash and unsellable candy out of her back door. A jeweler is trying to calculate how much of her stock has been stolen or, more likely, simply been misplaced. A baker and his wife and their apprentice are looking mournfully at a virtual desert of wasted flour on their floor.

Now look at Ponyville’s center. The town hall is a wreck, surrounded by a veritable sea of papers that the few officials in town are desperately trying to gather up. The weather patrol station’s cloud silo is missing its top, and so sits empty. And the Night Court Representative’s home and office has had its entire front window smashed apart.

Now head from the town proper, and out to the farms. Crops have been worse than neglected – they have been abused. Trampled on. Pulled out. Their irrigation systems are exposed and need to be buried again, but not before they’re cleaned out. Carrots left out in the sun too long have shriveled and dried to the point of inedibility. The walls holding a pond in place have broken, flooding a grove in an inch of water that floats over three inches of mud, seriously endangering the apple trees there with rot.

Now look to the skies. Recall the cloud silo has broken open. The weather patrol has, apparently, been out of commission for some time, as the skies overhead are gray and disorganized, clouds clumping together and roiling around without any attempt to control them, because none on the weather patrol even know where to begin.

Ponyville looks like it’s been through a war. In fact, it has been through a party.

Not by choice – the Ponyvillians would never do this to themselves by choice. There was magic involved, a curse that forced them all to drink to the point of a loss of inhibition, but never allowing them to become drunk enough to collapse. It took three days to break the curse. Nopony is seriously hurt – a few bumps, a few scrapes, and a town-wide hangover, but nothing that won’t recover on its own. But the town?

Ruined. The sheer magnitude is shocking, almost incomprehensible. Worse is the knowledge that they themselves did it, even if not by their own choice. But worst of all is the burning question inside the minds of every mare and stallion in Ponyville:

How can we possibly fix all of this?

---

My little pony, My little pony
Ahh ahh ahh ahhh...
My little pony
Friendship never meant that much to me
My little pony
But you're all here and now I can see
Stormy weather; Lots to share
A musical bond; With love and care
Teaching laughter; It's an easy feat,
And magic makes it all complete!
You have my little ponies
How'd I ever make so many true friends?

---

Town meetings in Ponyville were open affairs where anypony was invited to observe or raise questions or talking points, if not necessarily vote on the affairs of the municipality. Nevertheless, normally few ponies did.

But today, five days after the curse had been broken, so many ponies had been showing up at the town hall that the meeting had been moved from there to the wide-open area of the farmer’s market. A collapsible stage had been pulled from storage, found to be intact, and so set up near the entrance to the market, with a long table set up upon the stage. The members of Ponyville’s town council sat along the table, facing the sea of ponies in a riot of coat and mane colors that each of them represented.

The town council consisted of nine ponies. At the center of the table was Ivory Scroll, of course, the elected mayor of Ponyville who had never expected to have to deal with any crisis worse than a late winter wrap-up, which was more a cause for embarrassment than concern. To her left was Applejack, the owner of Sweet Apple Acres, the representative of the Apple Trust, and the direct descendant of the first Apples, who founded Ponyville. To Ivory Scroll’s right was Filthy Rich, a normally jovial business magnate and the direct descendant of the Rich family, who were the second family of Ponyville and the ones who helped put it on the map by marketing the Apples’ zap apple jam. The Riches and the Apples were guaranteed a seat on the town council, while six of the remaining ponies, including Mayor Scroll, were elected. None of them had ever expected to deal with a serious crisis, either, and all of them seemed nervous.

But none of them seemed as positively distraught as a blue unicorn mare with purple eyes and a silver mane and tail that sat at the right end of the table, who alternated between looking guiltily at the rest of the council and with deep concern at the crowd of ponies in front of her. She kept her hat low over her head, and her cape wrapped tightly around her, as though trying to use them as shields.

Before the town had set up the stage and the table, Trixie Lulamoon, the Representative of the Night Court of Princess Luna, had delivered some bad news to the town council. She had only been the messenger and had hated the news herself – but she had nevertheless been the victim of a considerable amount of shouting and insults before the other eight members of the town council had settled down and remembered that Trixie had only delivered bad news, not been the source of it.

Soon, though, the news would be delivered to the entire town.

“I wonder if I’ll be lynched,” Trixie mumbled under her breath. She tried to remember the last time a pony had been lynched in Equestria, but drew a blank. Shaking her head a little, she refocused her attention on a standing pony at the front of the crowd, a cyan pegasus with a rainbow mane and tail: Rainbow Dash, the head of the weather patrol.

“…all of our cloud supply for the next two months,” Rainbow Dash was explaining. She was flanked by a number of other members of the weather patrol, who each had papers in hoof or at least nearby. “We’ve been working double shifts to try and recover the water vapor and we think we may have enough that we can supply a few small rain showers…but overall Ponyville should be prepared for a dry summer.”

“Why can’t you just create new clouds?” Filthy Rich asked. “I thought pegasi could just make weather.”

Another member of the weather patrol – Raindrops, Trixie’s close friend – stepped forward at that. “We can, but it isn’t easy,” she said. She sounded exhausted, and looked it too, the result of five straight days of desperately trying to round up all the escaped clouds and water vapor. “The weather factory in Cloudsdale is much more efficient and faster. There just aren’t enough patrol members. Try to imagine taking care of every single tree down in Sweet Apple Acres by yourself, then extend that over all of Ponyville.”

“We might be able to do better if we can get volunteer help,” Rainbow Dash resumed, nodding in thanks to Raindrops, “but it’s also a problem that we just don’t have enough water vapor to go around, either. We’d need a lot of hot days in a row to build that up, ninety degrees or higher – ”

“We can’t do that,” another pony in the crowd interrupted, standing. She had a yellow coat and an orange mane and tail – Carrot Top, another of Trixie’s friends. She trotted up to the front. “I’m sorry, Miss Dash, but I don’t think my farm – I don’t think any farm in Ponyville right now, certainly none of the Farmer’s Union – can take that. Many of our farms had their irrigation systems ruined. I’ve already lost my entire crop for the month because of that. We need to save whatever water vapor we have right now until after we’ve all planted, then we’ll need to stretch whatever vapor we have until we can harvest. But we can’t have any hot days that’ll waste whatever water we do get into the ground.”

“Ah’m with Miss Carrot Top on that,” Applejack said, nodding to Rainbow Dash, and grimacing. Much of Sweet Apple Acres’ irrigation depended on the river and pond that they had on their land – the pond that had broken its banks and flooded an entire field. At least two apple trees had died so far from what amounted to drowning, and dozens more were looking like they weren’t going to make it, either.

“What is our food situation?” Ivory Scroll asked, looking out to the crowd of ponies. “Are all of you set? Who doesn’t think they’ll be able to make the month with what they have? Won’t be able to afford to buy more food due to the curse?” There was some uncomfortable mumbling and looking between each other. A few hooves rose into the air, but less than a dozen. Ivory Scroll frowned at that. “Come on now, ponies,” she said. “Now is not the time for pride. We need to have an accurate idea of what we need.” Gradually, more hooves rose into the air, then more, then more. When all was said and done, more than a quarter of the ponies gathered had raised their hooves in the air.

Ivory Scroll nodded grimly at that, then looked to Applejack. It was a known fact that Sweet Apple Acres was home to a vast store of specially preserved apples and a few other foodstuffs, in case of blight or famine, due to an almost paranoid belief on the Apple family’s part that either could strike at any time, even in Equestria. Apparently, the paranoia was now vindicated. Applejack, herself, was looking out over the ponies, brow furrowed and hooves tapping out a mnemonic rhythm as she did some calculations. After a moment, she nodded to the mayor. “Might be tight,” she said. “Some of our stores were broke open, 'cludin' our largest. Animals got ta' them an' the rest in there ain't fit for consumption. But Ah think we can make it if’n we use the apples we still got growin’. Ponies’ll be a mite peckish for awhile, but nopony will starve, Ah promise.”

Ivory Scroll offered a thin smile. “Thank-you, Applejack. You can say ‘I told you so’ if you like.”

“Don’t much feel like it, mayor,” Applejack responded. “Truth is, Ah’d just as soon’ve been wrong.” She looked to Carrot Top. “Sweet Apple Acres’ irrigation system’ll be fine once we get the water back in the pond. We’ll focus on feedin’ ponies now. The rest of y’all just start plantin’ and tillin’ and fixin’ what ya can. Ah bet that a month from now even Ah’ll be sick of apples an’ wantin’ somethin’ else.”

A wave of much-needed, light laughter spread through the crowd at that, as both Carrot Top and Rainbow Dash and her team sat back down. Ivory Scroll shuffled some papers in front of her, glancing at Trixie. Trixie grimaced at the resentment she saw as the earth pony mayor looked to Rainbow Dash. “We’ll make do with the water vapor we have,” she said. “We’ll try and requisition more from Cloudsdale. Hopefully they’ll send some.”

“What about the town’s emergency funds?” Rainbow Dash asked. Almost as one, everypony in the town council flinched, Trixie looking almost as though she had been bucked square in the jaw as she did.

“In just a moment, Miss Dash,” Ivory Scroll said, as her secretary came up on stage, looking nervously down at the sheets of paper she held in her mouth. “Because of the curse,” she pressed on, “many of you have been submitting requests to Ponyville for use of the emergency funds.”

“Of course we have!” Cheerilee called. The magenta earth pony was sitting near the front of the crowd, with her older sister Berry Punch, her younger sister Piña Colada, and the rest of her family. Berry Punch looked far from her normal jovial self – the curse in question had hit her at least as hard as the farmers, if not harder, as she’d owned the local bar – a bar that was now completely depleted over and above the damages caused by the cursed riot.

Ivory Scroll nodded at that, as her secretary passed her the sheets of paper. The pony had just finished adding up the total costs from all the submissions. “The total cost of the curse…acquiring clouds from Cloudsdale even at their emergency cost, repairs to municipal buildings, and dolling out requested funds to each of you…is eight hundred eighty-five thousand bits.”

The ponies of Ponyville recoiled at that, and low conversations began. Most of them had a sense as to where the conversation was about to turn. The emergency fund was set up to help conduct repairs to the exteriors of buildings or fix roads that were damaged from rogue Everfree storms, maybe help a few ponies through rough times caused by natural disasters – it had never been thought that it would need to essentially carry the entire town for several weeks. Cheerilee nevertheless stood up at that. “How much money is in the emergency fund?” she asked.

Ivory Scroll winced. “A little over fifty thousand,” she said.

There were actual shouts and cries at that, everypony standing up and first asking, then shouting, questions and concerns and demands. Trixie tried to burry herself under her hat, at least until she heard, over the din, her name being called.

“Representative Trixie,” Ivory Scroll repeated, the name eliciting silence from the crowd. Trixie glanced up. When the mayor had silence, she looked pointedly at Trixie, as did every other member of the town council, along with every other pony in Ponyville.

So this is what stage fright feels like, she mused. She found it to be a singularly unpleasent feeling.

“Representative Trixie,” Ivory Scroll said a third time. “This wasn’t an Everfree storm, the responsibility of our own weather team. This wasn’t a party that got out of control through fault of our own. This was an attack on Ponyville, by a minion of Corona. A magical curse compelled us to destroy our homes and our livelihoods. Under the circumstances I think it would be entirely fair of us to ask for official help from the Royal Emergency Management Ministry. I believe that it is the responsibility of Canterlot to aid Ponyville in our time of need.”

Trixie shuffled in place. “I agree,” she said, then repeated herself, louder, making sure everypony could hear her. “I completely agree! The REMM was founded for exactly this purpose! It should not be Ponyville that has to carry this burden!”

There were nods of agreement and calls of consent to that from the crowd. “Very well, then,” Ivory Scroll said. “As you know, we have already alerted the REMM to the situation through you.”

“I sent the request twice! Noted that it was an emergency and everything!”

“And?”

Trixie’s mouth clamped shut at that. Slowly, carefully, she withdrew a sheet of paper from a pocket in her cape, an official invoice from the REMM, and signed by its head – Night Light, of the House of Starlight, Viceroy of Latigo. She looked to the crowd, then back to the paper – then back to the crowd again, then back to the paper. “The REMM…” she read, “r…regrets to inform the town of Ponyville…that it will not be – ”

That was as far as she got before the crowd of ponies all began shouting at the top of their lungs in anger, shuffling about, throwing their hooves in the air, the wings of pegasi flared and the horns on the unicorns glowing dangerously.

Trixie couldn’t help it: she panicked. Her own horn glowed, she turned herself invisible, and she bolted from the stage.

---

Carrot Top wasn’t much surprised when she arrived home to find Trixie in her living room, sitting on the floor and running her hooves through her mane, normally expertly styled but now a mess of cowlicks and split hairs from the poor treatment that her hooves were giving it. In point of fact, the earth pony farmer had been expecting to find Trixie here – hence why Raindrops, Cheerilee, Lyra, and Ditzy, together with Carrot Top Trixie’s five closest friends, were with her as she closed the door behind her.

Trixie turned quickly when she heard the door close, standing and stumbling forwards. “It’s not my fault!” she cried out desperately to them. “It’s not – I’m just the messenger – this isn’t my fault!”

Before she could get much further, Ditzy Doo was upon her, wrapping her hooves around the blue unicorn and holding her close. “Shh…it’s okay, we know…” the gray, wall-eyed pegasus assured her friend. “We know, everypony in town knows, too, they’re just angry right now. They’ll calm down…” Trixie’s own legs gave out at Ditzy’s embrace, and she just held her friend close, her eyes wide and staring off into nothingness.

There was a bang that Trixie’s nerves really didn’t need right now. Everypony jumped, and saw Raindrops was staring at the floor, where she’d just used a front hoof to punch a dent into the wood beneath her. Crying out, Raindrops slammed her hoof several more times into it. “Stupid…” she exclaimed as she hit it, “useless…government!” Her hoof broke through the floor, then, and into the basement below, and she nearly lost her balance before steadying herself with her wings and breathing heavily. She looked to Carrot Top, her face still a look of barely-contained anger. “I’m sorry,” she stated, for politeness’ sake if nothing else. She probably genuinely felt the regret, it was just overridden by the anger right now.

Carrot Top shook her head. “Next to everything else?” she asked. “It’s nothing…”

“Can they do this?” Cheerilee demanded, coming up to Trixie. “According to the Detrot Act, the REMM has to supply aid to any township in Equestria that’s been the subject of an attack by a hostile force!”

Trixie grimaced at that, taking out the letter from the REMM, glancing it over again before passing it around. “That’s the thing,” she said. “The REMM doesn’t believe that this was Zecora’s fault. That this was an attack by Corona. Seeing as Zecora escaped Ponyville doesn’t have any proof. Viceroy Night Light says that he thinks that Ponyville is just trying to abuse the REMM to help pay for the damages we caused – ”

“Wait,” Lyra said, holding up a hoof. “Viceroy Night Light? Night Light?”

Trixie grimaced, nodding. “Y-yeah. Twilight Sparkle’s father. He's the head of the REMM.”

The other five mares looked uncomfortable for Trixie, while Trixie herself still looked as though she’d just come out the other side of a siege. Twilight Sparkle. Arguably Trixie’s biggest screw-up since coming to Ponyville, the lavender unicorn had come to Ponyville looking to learn at the hooves of the Element of Magic – and had found Trixie to be far from the sorceress supreme, amazing magic-user she had thought Trixie was supposed to be. They had argued, and Trixie had tricked Twilight into embarrassing herself in front of town, causing Twilight to go into the Everfree Forest and bring back an Ursa Minor which proceeded to wreck havoc in Ponyville until Twilight and Trixie, working together, had been able to banish it back to the Everfree. Afterwards, rather than facing responsibility for her actions, had fled from the town, leaving Trixie little choice but to report her as a criminal.

Weeks later, she had learned that Twilight Sparkle was the daughter of Night Light, Viceroy of Latigo and, quite possibly, the single most powerful member of the Night Court of Luna. His reach was vast and his resources were limitless. And, it seemed, he hated Trixie for what she’d done.

“You need to apologize,” Ditzy told Trixie, her eyes focusing on the blue unicorn. Normally her eyes wandered, but when she willed them into alignment, she had the most intense stare of any pony Trixie had ever met. “You need to apologize to him, Trixie.”

“I’ve tried!” Trixie cried out, throwing her hooves in the air. “I tried when Princess Cadenza visited Equestria. I’ve sent three – three – letters to him, both in Latigo and his estate in Canterlot! They’ve all been returned unopened! You think I want an enemy in the Night Court that big?”

Trixie wanted to get into the Night Court, the governance of Equestria. She’d accepted that this was going to naturally involve making some enemies. In fact, she had several of those already, most notably Duke Greengrass, who’d seemed determined to get the Elements of Harmony under his hoof.

But a viceroy? Contraction for vice-royalty? In the hierarchy of nobles within Equestria, the three viceroys were second only to Princess Luna herself in terms of political power. Trixie, meanwhile, didn’t have any noble title, and indeed had only properly entered the Night Court six months ago simply as a Representative of the Night Court – a glorified messenger and go-between.

“Can we go over his head?” Raindrops asked. “Go directly to the Princess?”

“I’ve tried,” Trixie moaned, looking down. “I’ve tried, but with the Gala in three days she’s been kept busy with…with everything. My letter-sending spell only sends things to her desk, she probably hasn’t had time to be in her office for a week…”

“You need to fix that,” Carrot Top said. “This isn’t the first time we’ve had problems because you couldn’t get in contact with the Princess…”

“If I had a jangle for everypony who wanted a direct line to Luna herself wherever she is,” Trixie deadpanned, “I could hoof the bill for Ponyville myself.” Trixie sighed. “I was going to catch a train to Canterlot tomorrow, try and go and see her directly…but if I can’t then we might have to wait until after the Gala before she’s free again.”

“Why not at the gala?” Lyra asked.

“At the gala?” Trixie asked.

“Corner her in the gardens or something. You have your ticket still, right? Why can’t you just see Princess Luna then?”

Trixie shook her head. “Two reasons: one, everypony is going to want to see Luna at the gala, I probably won’t get a chance; and two – I wasn’t going to go.” She sat back on her haunches. “I’m not going to dress up and go to a party while everypony else in Ponyville has to deal with the mess…”

Raindrops grimaced. “Fair point,” she acceded, sighing, and looking around. Carrot Top’s home had fared better than her own, which had become infested with bugs during the three-day curse that had gotten into everything and everywhere. But the damage to Carrot Top’s livelihood was far worse, what with her irrigation system having somehow been filled with wine, and her harvest for the month lost. Even with earth pony magic making the carrots grow faster than they otherwise would, it would be a long time before she could recoup her losses without help from Canterlot – though she could, at least, take a measure of comfort in the fact that the same applied to everypony else in Ponyville.

But how could a viceroy - a noble of Luna's Night Court - let an entire town suffer, just to get back at one mare?

2. The Duke

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Canterlot. Built into the side of the Canterhorn Mountain, it was not the largest city in Equestria, but it was one of the oldest, and served as the shining capital of the nation. The mighty Galloping River which traced its source to the melting snow atop the Canterhorn bisected the city, before flowing off the edge of the cliff that Canterlot was built upon, its sparkling blue water plummeting to a lake that lay more than half a mile below – the tallest waterfall in the known world. The city itself was constructed of granite and darkened marble, its roofs capped in blues and greens and purples and silver that held the same glow as the moon, and everywhere the black-and-blue flag of Equestria, depicting a crescent moon and star holding back the treacherous sun, flew proudly.

Canterlot was sometimes called the Sleepless City. While the individual ponies who lived there did bed down eventually, of course, the city as a whole always had at least a third to a half of its population awake at any given hour of the day, depending upon the time of the year. The ruler of Equestria, Princess Luna, took care of the sun in the stead of her mad sister, but her true passion was for the beauteous night sky, and so she was nocturnal by choice, sleeping away the morning and a goodly bit of each afternoon, meaning that the government in Canterlot had to also be nocturnal if they ever wished to accomplish anything. It followed then, that other ponies had to be nocturnal: courtiers and lobbyists, newspaper journalists looking for an interview, the ceremonial guards, the librarians, and of course a number of store owners and restaurateurs who wished to feed all the previous ponies.

Needless to say, the city was constantly teetering on the edge of running out of coffee.

Duke Greengrass was not in the best of moods, and not simply because he had missed his evening coffee. He had been in a good mood, in fact, but the natural low-level paranoia that being a part of the Night Court bred had a way of killing good moods when he saw Princess Luna speaking in to anypony, especially a pony like Fancy Pants, one of Luna’s closest confidants and friends and, Greengrass suspected, her personal spy on the Night Court. His unease would double if he saw Luna talking to Viceroy Night Light, arguably the most powerful pony on the Night Court and certainly a force to be reckoned with. But most of all, Greengrass’ internal alarms were set off when he came around a corner on the way to his meeting, and he saw Luna talking to both of them.

The conversation was not quite whispered, simply kept quiet as the Princess trotted through Canterlot Castle’s halls. Luna was unaccompanied by her usually entourage of secretaries, adjutants, and even the Night Guard, leaving Greengrass wondering if she had pulled that split-body trick of hers to get alone time with Fancy and Night while a doppelgänger of her was elsewhere running the country…into the ground, Greengrass’ internal thoughts couldn’t help but append.

The trio of ponies stopped in the hallway, said a few last words to each other – Greengrass thought that he heard Luna say something to the effect of “I am disappointed” to Night Light, but he couldn’t be sure. Certainly neither Luna nor Night Light seemed to be particularly pleased with one another nor the direction of the conversation. Fancy Pants, meanwhile, seemed to be his usual jovial self, trying to keep the princess and her viceroy from breaking out into harsher, louder discussion. Fancy Pants liked to play the part of a fool, but nopony could be as vapid as he pretended to be and possibly survive the rigors of the Night Court.

Luna and Night Light parted ways before reaching Greengrass as he continued to trot down the hallway, pretending to take only cursory interest in what tidbits he could overhear which was, unfortunately, essentially nothing. Fancy Pants followed Night Light, leaving Luna and Greengrass alone in the hall.

The Duke bowed respectfully once Luna was close enough for protocol to demand him to do so – about twenty feet, give or take. “Your Majesty,” he greeted as Luna continued her slow trot. “I hope I’m not intruding, but I don’t suppose I missed something important just now?”

One of Luna’s eyebrows arched just slightly – not much of a betrayal of emotion, but Greengrass understood it perfectly as surprise that the Duke would attempt to pry into her personal affairs. He had been as polite as could be expected while doing so, though, so Luna only shook her head. “Nothing of importance, Duke,” she informed him. “Just a disagreement between old friends.”

The Duke offered his best consoling smile, falling into step beside Princess Luna once she passed him. “I hope the disagreement is resolved quickly, Majesty.”

“And I as well,” Luna said. “I do not wish to go to the Gala and have the general mood of the event ruined.” Luna looked to Greengrass. “In light of…recent events…I feel a sense of normalcy is important to maintain.”

Luna was referring, of course, to the escape of her mad elder sister from her millennial imprisonment within the heart of the Sun. Corona wanted the throne of Equestria, wanted to reign supreme over all Ponydom. Six months after her escape, and Corona had not yet been captured, nor even seen by anypony, and what strikes she had made against Equestria were only a fraction of what she – supposedly more powerful than even Luna – was capable of.

The last time anypony in Canterlot had seen her, she had been about to destroy the city, and only fortuitous circumstance had saved it. It was a considerable glare in the eye to live with that knowledge. The Duke could perfectly understand Luna’s reasoning.

He just didn’t agree with it. Not entirely, in any event. But, he kept such thoughts to himself as he and Luna reached another corner, and Luna found herself face-to-face with a deep blue alicorn, wearing the same black crown and royal regalia – a perfect doppelgänger of Luna, save that this one was flanked by two Night Guards. Neither Luna slowed down as their horns glowed and their eyes closed, then they stepped into each other, their forms and details becoming indistinct blurs. With a soft flash of blue light a moment later, a single Luna manifested, facing Greengrass with eyes closed.

Neither Night Guard reacted in the slightest to the display. Greengrass, despite himself, found that he had stepped back a pace. It was one thing to intellectually know that Luna sometimes split her consciousness up amongst several bodies; it was quite another to see it displayed, and so casually at that. When Luna opened her eyes, her face took on a slightly serene look – or perhaps, in fact more likely, a haughty smile. “If you will excuse me, Duke,” Luna said, “this is the closest to free time I am likely to have all week. Was there something important you needed to discuss, or…?”

Greengrass shook his head. “No, Majesty. In fact I have some business to attend to. With your leave?”

Luna nodded once, and Greengrass turned and left after a final bow of respect. He noted with a degree of interest that it was several moments before Luna’s own hoof-steps began echoing down the hall as well. He wondered if she had been simply collecting herself after…well, literally collecting herself…or if she had lingered while considering Greengrass specifically.

Luna could not only split herself amongst multiple bodies, of course – she could change her appearance as well. Not for the first time, the Duke found himself wondering the limits of the Princess’ abilities in that regard. Did she perhaps maintain alter egos within Canterlot? Was there a noble on the Court who was, in fact, Luna in disguise? Or was she hidden in a more innocuous place – as a servant or a guard or some other lowly position? Did she maintain entire false lives beyond Canterlot castle’s walls?

Greengrass elected not to pursue that line of thought – madness lay in that direction, or at least a headache. Instead, he focused on his destination, one of the many side-rooms and studies that Canterlot Castle was festooned with, the consequence of a millennia-old castle that was constantly added to and expanded. Many rooms ended up getting lost in the shuffle, not their location, but certainly their purpose. When that happened, they invariably ended up with almost identical appointments: Sitting cushions or couches arranged around a reasonable table, space enough for six or seven ponies in total, with a clock, a glow-gem, and a bookcase filled with whatever excess tomes the Royal Library wanted to move from its shelves but didn’t quite want to donate yet. The rooms made perfect locations for the clandestine meetings that were the bread and wine of the Night Court.

The Duke found that he had arrived first, despite his hold-up with the princess, though he had scarcely settled down before he was joined by a white unicorn with a blond mane –Prince Blueblood. ‘Prince’ was his name, not his title, that being viscount; the entire Blueblood family had a tendency to name their foals after noble titles or important positions always, Greengrass had noted, of higher rank than the family actually held, though Prince Blueblood represented a particularly high delusion even for that family.

When they had first spoken, Greengrass had taken the effort to make himself seem like a stupid, idealistic pony in the Prince’s eyes, in order to get Blueblood to do what he needed, and the viscount had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. That had changed over the past few months, however, when a scheme of Blueblood’s had failed rather spectacularly (admittedly a related one undertaken by Greengrass had as well, but he had recovered far better) and ended up indebted to the duke, a situation he no doubt found intolerable but which he could do little about. Blueblood acknowledged Greengrass with only a nod.

The duke found that to be decidedly unfriendly of him. “Good evening, viscount!” he said brightly. “How are you?”

Blueblood almost visibly winced at the Duke's joviality. “Just fine, Greengrass, just fine,” he said, taking a seat near the room’s window. This particular room looked out over the cliff face that Canterlot was set upon, offering a wide view of twilit Equestria, the vast fields and farmlands colored in shades of purple and blue in the sun’s fading light, and here and there the bright lights of a township or other settlement. “If you don’t mind,” Blueblood said after a moment, checking his hoof, “I hope we can make this meeting a short one. I have business to attend to.”

You have tailors to torment, Greengrass mentally corrected. Whatever his other faults – arrogance, stupidity, and a healthy additional scoop of arrogance – Blueblood was, at the end of the day, an excellent example of stallion physique, often considered to be one of the handsomest ponies in Equestria. He was aware of this and was planning to go to the upcoming Gala dressed accordingly, which meant that he had hired a virtual army of clothiers and tailors to design his suit.

“I don’t plan on it going on for too long,” Greengrass assured Blueblood, as Archduke Fisher joined them. Fisher was a slate gray unicorn, with a mane and tail of brown and bluish-gray, and who sported an impressive, thick moustache. He was slightly taller than Blueblood, which made him nearly a full foot taller than Greengrass himself. He also scowled an awful lot for a pony with his amount of power and influence in the Night Court.

Fisher didn’t offer any kind of nod or greeting. Instead, he jumped straight to the point. “Well?” he asked. “You called this meeting, Duke. Begin it already.”

Greengrass pursed his lips. “Not quite…” he said, though he did settle down more comfortably onto the cushions he was sitting on. “We’re still waiting for Puissance.”

Fisher offered a rare smile, though it was laced with sarcastic intent. “The vicereine is quite busy at the moment attending to personal affairs. She won’t be joining us.”

Greengrass blinked. “Ah,” he said after a moment. “She had her estate connected to the telegraph network and is too busy playing with it, then?”

Fisher didn’t offer a verbal response other than a slight chuckle, which Blueblood and Greengrass both shared. Vicereine Puissance liked having things, and used her power and position as one of the three viceroys, along with Night Light and Wallflower, to acquire said things. Or to put it more succinctly, she was a greedy old pegasus who nevertheless was enamored by the new and novel and things that weren’t hers, and whenever she acquired something new, tended to become quite lost in it. She, at least, seemed to use her position to enjoy herself, like Greengrass but unlike many on the Night Court, who became too lost in the quagmire of the Game to ever look around and just realize the fun that could be had. If not for the fact that Greengrass was going to have to, one day, remove Puissance from the Night Court, he might have almost considered her a role model.

“A telegraph, though?” Blueblood asked. “Who needs a personal telegraph?”

“Oh, there are any number of advantages, I suppose.” Fisher mused as he sat down opposite Greengrass. “None of them, however, relevant to the matter at hoof.”

Greengrass offered a shrug. There was important business to discuss, he supposed. “By now,” he said, as Blueblood took a cushion of his own, “we’ve all heard of the incident in Ponyville, yes? And the details?”

Blueblood and Fisher both nodded. “Allegedly,” Blueblood said, “that zebra minion of Corona’s placed a curse on the town.”

“I find it utterly preposterous,” Fisher put in. “Only foolish earth pony – earth pony farmer – superstitions. There is no such thing as a curse, as any unicorn would be able to tell you.”

Greengrass elected to not call out Fisher’s hardly-contained slip there concerning earth ponies. He instead only looked to Blueblood, one eyebrow raised.

Blueblood was staring at one of his own hooves, horn glowing slightly as he picked out dirt from it. He realized after a moment that Greengrass was staring at him expectantly. “Sorry?” he asked.

The Duke, through a heroic exertion of will, resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Curses. Apparently any unicorn could tell me that they’re not real.”

Blueblood offered a shrug. “Archduke Fisher’s special talent is magic,” he observed.

“Exactly!” Fisher said.

Greengrass eyed Blueblood, who had returned to paying more attention to his hoof than the conversation. Whatever – he was an idiot anyway. “It doesn’t matter much what it was,” Greengrass said. “Their claim remains the same, and the damage was extensive, to the tune of nine hundred thousand bits. They are asking the REMM for aid. But Viceroy Night Light has denied them aid.”

That got Blueblood’s attention, as he had Fisher looked between one another. “Surely the viceroy doesn’t think he can get away with that?” Fisher asked. “If it really was an attack…”

“If it really was,” Blueblood noted. “That is a rather large if. I am given to understand that Corona’s zebra crony escaped…and without her, the town has no proof. The curse – ”

“Curses aren’t real,” Fisher interrupted.

“The alleged curse,” Blueblood corrected, “supposedly caused the town to drink to the point of loss of control, but did not allow them to actually drink themselves comatose. For three days. I can scarcely imagine the damage…but the point is, there is no proof that this was an attack. It may very well be – from Night Light’s perspective – an attempt by a small town to not have to pay for their own damages from a festival that got out of control.”

“That may be,” Fisher noted, “but if Ponyville really is nearly destroyed, surely it is Night Light’s responsibility to render some form of aid.”

“Ah, but you forget,” Greengrass said, leaning forward, “that Ponyville is the home of Lulamoon – and that a few months ago, Night Light’s daughter had an…episode…there. Her whereabouts are still unknown, and Night Light, I believe, holds Lulamoon responsible.”

Blueblood and Greengrass both considered this. Trixie Lulamoon. Student of Princess Luna. Element of Magic. Representative of the Night Court to Ponyville. And a vain, egotistical, abrasive, and above all else stupid pony who had somehow managed to gain the ear of the Princess herself as well as becoming the living embodiment of one of the Elements of Harmony, the most powerful magic known to ponydom and the only weapon known to be of any use against the still-at-large Tyrant Sun.

So far, Trixie hadn’t yet tried to leverage what she had to her own benefit. But what if she did? Suppose Corona appeared in a province and attacked. Would Lulamoon not intercede unless offered something in return? If the province of a noble she did not like was attacked, would she ignore it?

The Elements could not, in all likelihood, be removed from their bearers, the six mares that now lived in Ponyville. But as long as Lulamoon was their leader, Equestria was not safe from the depredations of Corona. The Elements needed to be curbed, controlled, contained, placed under the hoof of a pony who wouldn’t abuse their power for personal gain as Lulamoon would. And for the past six months, Greengrass had been working towards the goal of being that pony. His nominal alliance with Blueblood, Fisher, and the absent Puissance, were all geared towards moving closer to that goal. Theoretically they were going to share control, but Greengrass doubted if any of them – except Blueblood – was stupid enough to think that would be the case. Still, before they could squabble over that matter, they had to gain control of the Elements first.

“So this is a revenge play by Night Light,” Fisher said at length. “Or…perhaps his own attempt to gain control of the Elements.”

Blueblood blanched, apparently not having considered that. “Oh dear,” he noted.

“Indeed,” Greengrass said. He couldn’t quite fault Blueblood for that slip – Night Light did not normally play the shadowy games of the Night Court like this, in fact was famous for being an upstanding example of nobility. Apparently exceptions were made where his own family was concerned, however. “Now, I am given to understand that later today – “ a glance at the clock in the room confirmed that it was, indeed, a matter of later today rather than tomorrow – “Lulamoon will be coming to Canterlot in order to make a personal appeal on the part of Ponyville to Night Light. If Night Light is going to make any move towards controlling the Elements, it will be then. Therefore, we must work to keep Lulamoon from Night Light. I also believe that we can use the incident in Ponyville towards our advantage. Nine hundred thousand bits is no small amount of money, but split between the three of us – ”

“Four, with Puissance,” Blueblood noted. Fisher and Greengrass both stared at him, waiting for him to catch up and realize that they were going to cut Puissance loose from their arrangement. “Ah,” he said after a moment. “Of course. Three ways, then.”

Greengrass’ eyes fluttered, and he had to shake his head to clear it from that latest bout of ineptitude from Blueblood. “Split between us,” Greengrass said, “I believe we can cover the cost of repairing Ponyville easily enough. Lulamoon will accept and return to her town as a hero, of course, her nature won’t allow her to do otherwise. And she will be firmly in our debt. As I understand things, the Elements are a set, where one goes, the other must follow – and Lulamoon is their leader.”

“A tidy scheme,” Fisher noted. “Keeping Lulamoon from Night Light may not be so easy, however.”

Greengrass offered a grin at that. “Oh,” he said, “I think we’ll manage.”

3. Arrival in Canterlot

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Though the station itself had been no better than the rest of the town, the train tracks had been clear enough that the Ponyville-Canterlot line had been able to run on time, and Trixie had caught the first train into Canterlot in the morning, at 11 AM. She’d arrive at 1 o’clock, just as the political side of the city was beginning to wake up. Hopefully, she’d be able to catch the viceroy early, before he’d managed to fully plan out his day. Her position as a Representative of the Night Court, appointed by Luna herself, would hopefully allow her some leverage into his busy schedule, not enough to see him immediately, but certainly enough to have a meeting arranged. Provided he didn’t just turn her away.

In spite of everything, Trixie couldn’t help but smile the closer she got to Canterlot. The train had to make several stops on the way to the Canterhorn itself, as well as while travelling up the Canterhorn, winding around the mountainside, offering Trixie innumerable opportunities to look out her window and just stare at the city from a multitude of angles. For some reason, she always got a little giddy when approaching Canterlot – though by far the best part was towards the end of the train trip. The train would offer one last glimpse of gleaming Canterlot in the distance before entering a spiraling tunnel – and then, two minutes later when it emerged, Canterlot would be there before the train, the colors and the shine of silver and the Galloping River suddenly painting a rich tapestry for the eyes. Trixie was certain that the train line had been designed like that, to offer you continuous tantalizing glimpses before finally revealing Canterlot in all of its glory.

Trixie’s joy at seeing the city that had served as her home for ten years, though, was almost immediately tempered by the knowledge of why she was here. The fact that she was here alone was also beginning to sting at her – in hindsight, she wished that she’d come here with at least one of her friends. Cheerilee – school was out, after all. Or Lyra, who could make her own schedule thanks to being a musician. Or Carrot Top or Ditzy Doo, for their friendly faces, something she didn’t doubt she’d be in desperate need of. Or Raindrops, to keep her honest and from making a fool of herself…

…but they had their own problems to deal with right now. Their families to be with, their homes to fix, and they were counting on Trixie to get through to the viceroy.

As the train stopped at Canterlot Central, she slipped on her wizard’s hat and cape, steeled herself, and resolved that she would not return to Ponyville without the money that her new home town needed so desperately. She trotted from the train with her head held high.

“There she is!”

There were hundreds of ponies at Canterlot Central, and yet somehow Trixie knew that whoever had called that out, they were referring to her. Her eyes widened as she looked around, and saw, closing in from all sides, dozens of ponies of every tribe and gender and hue. They moved with surprising speed through the crowd. Many of them wore bowler caps or had cameras, or notepads and quills or pencils, some of which the unicorns in the group had animated to write all by themselves. There was a recurring theme of paper and quills amongst their cutie marks, though –

“Wait – ” Trixie barely had time to say, before the sharks and vultures – known to the laity as journalists – descended upon her.

“Representative Lulamoon!” every one of them began, though they then broke off into dozens of questions, while the flashes of cameras began. “Is it true that Ponyville was – ”

“ – have anything to say regarding – ”

“ – move your hat for a better photograph – ”

“ – demanding an emergency convening of the Night Court – ”

“ – say those things about Viceroy Night Light – ”

“ – lying to the public about what was Ponyville’s own – ”

“ – claims about your relationship with – ”

“ – does a Representative actually have authority to make demands of – ”

“ – does Princess Luna know – ”

“ – please look into the – ”

Trixie tried to be calm and not panic. She failed, her horn glowing and her winking into invisibility – but the flashes of the dozen or so cameras played havoc with her illusion, wrecking it in moments. None of the journalists even seemed to notice as they continued to crowd her. She tried to shove on through, but they were forming a virtually impenetrable wall, a wall that was reinforced by innocent bystanders trying to come over and see what all the commotion was. She tried to back away into the train, but the doors behind her had closed already.

“Please,” Trixie called out. She couldn’t be heard, at first, so her horn glowed again, wrapping a noise amplification spell around her throat. “Please! Stop! One question at a time!”

The journalists all heard her, but unfortunately each of them wanted to be the first to get their question in, so all that happened was a bare moment of silence. Trixie grit her teeth, stamping her hooves on the ground and throwing up illusionary fire and smoke. That caused the journalists to back away and shut up.

“Okay!” Trixie said, as the smoke billowed overhead. “Please, can somepony – ”

“Emergency rain cloud!”

“What?” Trixie looked up just in time to see, through her illusory smoke, a pegasus wearing an official security uniform buck an emergency cloud. The cloud burst apart, collapsing into water and falling atop Trixie in a deluge that left her both sputtering and soaked. The next thing she knew, the pegasus was next to her, asking if she was alright, if she had been burned, did she need to go to the hospital…without thinking, her tension snapping, Trixie punched him in the face, turned – and found herself face-to-face with a much larger security pony, who looked very displeased at Trixie having decked her co-worker. She hoof-punched Trixie in the face in response, then tackled her to the ground. Probably. Either that or Trixie simply fell of her own accord. Either way, she collapsed with a thud.

“Wh…” Trixie breathed as she tried to work through the haze. “What…just…happened…?”

---

“What happened is you hoof-punched a member of Canterlot Central Station security in the face,” security chief Noteworthy informed Trixie an hour later, as security guard Spring Fresh, the abnormally tall and bulky unicorn who had laid Trixie out, kept one eye on Trixie and the other on guard Lightning Streak, who had a bag of ice pressed to his muzzle and was glaring daggers at Trixie. The four of them were in a small, plain room, Trixie no longer cuffed but sitting behind a table without the benefit of cushions. There was a smaller table tucked into one corner, atop of which sat a newspaper, though Trixie hadn’t been able to see it before being sat down behind the table.

Trixie had, however, been provided her own bag of ice, which she supposed was nice, though not nearly nice enough for her to forget what had just happened – especially seeing as she was still soaked. “I only did it,” she objected, “because he drenched me with a cloud!”

“Because you were on fire!” Lightning Streak cried out.

“It was fake!” Trixie countered, her horn glowing and creating fake fire on her hoof tip, which she proceeded to wave her other front leg through harmlessly. “See? Illusion! Light! That’s it!”

“Threatening ponies with illusory fire carries the same consequences as using real fire,” Noteworthy noted.

Trixie jabbed a hoof at Lightning Streak. “I wasn’t threatening him! I was threatening the journalists! And I tried to back away but they wouldn’t let me through and I tried to get them to stop but they wouldn’t listen!” She glared at Lightning Streak and Spring Fresh. “Where were you two for that, huh?”

Noteworthy stomped a hoof, getting Trixie’s attention. “Listen, Miss Lulamoon – ”

“Please just call me Trixie – ”

“Miss Lulamoon,” Noteworthy repeated. “I do not see how threatening members of the press in any way helps your case. Frankly with what you’ve been saying I’m surprised you weren’t expecting this kind of media response.”

“What I’ve been saying…?” Trixie asked, confused.

“About Viceroy Night Light.”

Trixie stared uncomprehendingly. Noteworthy, in response, turned around, grabbed the newspaper from the smaller table, and laid it down in front of Trixie. Looking back at her from the newspaper was…her, a six-month old photograph, to be precise, depicting her back when she had first earned the Element of Magic and driven off Corona. It showed her looking smug, she had to admit, and self-assured, though given what she had just accomplished at the time, she felt entirely justified.

The picture was not what grabbed her attention, however. It was the article title.

PONYVILLE SUBJECT OF RIOT AND SELF-DESTRUCTION

“What?!” Trixie shrieked, far louder than she had intended, as she stood, planting her hooves on the table as she read the article.

PONYVILLE – between being the site of the Tyrant Sun’s return, stampeding Ursas, a phoenix attack, and the location of a parasprite invasion, the small town of Ponyville in the North Everfree has been making headlines quite a lot recently. However, questions are being raised concerning the latest event. Mayor Ivory Scroll alleges that the town was attacked by Zecora, the zebra minion of Corona. It is the method of attack, however, that raises suspicions.

“It was a zebra magic ritual,” Ivory Scroll explained. “Cast over the town this past Summer Fair. It…cursed our alcohol and made us keep drinking and destroy our town!”

Trixie tried to cry out in shock, but couldn’t. The zebra magic was not intended to curse the town’s alcohol! Trixie didn’t, for that matter, know what it was supposed to do at all, only that she had disrupted it in the middle of being cast, resulting in it going awry. Mayor Ivory Scroll had stated as much to the Equestrian press, but apparently this newspaper – and most others, Trixie assumed – had elected to give only an abbreviated version of the claim, a version that made it look laughable even to Trixie’s eyes.

However, the Royal Emergency Management Ministry, headed by Night Light, Viceroy of Latigo, has issued the following statement:

“The REMM requires time to analyze the situation in Ponyville. Attacking ursas from the Everfree is one thing, but the idea that a minion of the Tyrant Sun would somehow curse a town’s liquor, after months of almost no word concerning her, raises a number of questions that must be answered before aid is rendered.”

When asked if he believes that Ponyville is attempting to scam the REMM, Viceroy Night Light said “I would hope that nopony in Equestria could possibly be that selfish, but it is something we must consider. The claim of Mayor Ivory Scroll strains credulity at best.”

“That is utterly outrageous!’ Trixie Lulamoon, Representative of the Night Court to Ponyville and Element of Magic, said according to an anonymous source when she heard the news. "Ponyville deserves compensation! This is simply Viceroy Night Light trying to revenge himself upon Ponyville for the incident here with his daughter, punishing an entire town for his bad parenting skills! I’m the student of Princess Luna, and if Night Light thinks he can get away with this, he has another thing coming!”

Trixie stared, wide-eyed. The article continued for some time, but it was solely that line which drew her attention. She was unable to read past it. “I…I didn’t say that!” Trixie exclaimed. “I didn’t say that! I didn’t say anything like that!”

“Yeah,” Noteworthy said, taking the article away. “Right.”

Trixie stared at the three ponies. “I didn’t!” she repeated, falling back onto her haunches, one hoof to her chest. Her heart was beating uncontrollably. This newspaper…Equestria Nightly. The most-read newspaper in Canterlot. Everypony had a subscription. Princess Luna had a subscription. And now everypony would think that she had made a personal attack on the viceroy…

…Princess Luna would think…

“Maybe you just don’t remember,” Spring Fresh ventured, “given how much you Ponyvillians like to party…”

Trixie stared at the unicorn. “N-no!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t…I didn’t say that…”

The other three ponies in the room looked between each other, almost as one wincing. It was obvious that this wasn’t an act – that Trixie was genuinely feeling the terror that she was portraying. Noteworthy looked to Lightning Streak. “How’s the muzzle?”

Lightning Streak winced as he touched it gingerly a few times. “I’ll be fine,” he decided after a moment.

“Alright. Miss Lulamoon, you’re free to go. But if you ever so much as litter in Canterlot central again, I will press charges. Understand?”

Trixie nodded grimly, still focusing more on the ground as she stood, allowing her to be escorted from the small room to the larger security office of Canterlot central. Through the windows set into the security office’s door, she could see a multitude of ponies – the journalists and photographers – milling about outside, waiting.

Trixie grimaced. She didn’t want to deal with this right now. Letting her horn glow, she wrapped an illusion over her cape and hat, making them appear to be the plain brown shirt and cap of a security guard uniform, and then changed her coat and mane color so that they notably edged towards green. She didn’t bother with her cutie mark as she stepped back out into the train station proper. The journalists almost descended upon her before noticing that she didn’t look like the unicorn they wanted to assault, and went back to waiting.

Trixie pushed past them, and almost dropped her illusion when she left the train station – but then she saw a newspaper stand, and her own smug grin staring back at her from every front page. She noticed a dozen ponies and more trotting along, or sitting down, or standing and waiting, while reading the paper. Granted, most of them were more focused on the weather schedule, or the sports section – but they had all, most likely, given the front page article at least a cursory glance, and would have read about the hick town that had partied too hard and was now expecting the REMM to pay up – how the head of the REMM wanted an investigation first – and how Trixie Lulamoon had called him a horrible parent on Page One of Equestria Nightly.

Trixie elected to keep her illusion up, at least for now, as she trotted from Canterlot central and made her way to Canterlot Castle. As she did, she considered what she now knew.

Firstly, somepony in Canterlot really did not like her.

Second, that pony had sway with at least one major newspaper. The article had mentioned an anonymous source. The newspapers didn’t make a habit of printing false information, however; that meant that this anonymous source had to be somepony who was generally considered to be a trusted one.

Thirdly – provided the rest of the article wasn’t a lie – Night Light was denying aid to Ponyville based on the sheer ludicrousness, on paper, of what had happened there. To an extent, Trixie could understand his line of reasoning.

And finally, the anonymous source wanted to keep Trixie from interacting with Night Light. The goal of the newspaper article hadn’t been specifically to alienate Trixie from Canterlot high society – though this would certainly happen – but rather, to specifically have inflammatory remarks that would keep Trixie from being able to even approach Night Light, let alone try and convince him to aid Ponyville.

“Oh, right,” Trixie mumbled under her breath as she trotted through Canterlot, the walls of the castle coming into view. “One more thing: Princess Luna probably doesn’t like me very much right now.” That, at least, was something she was used to and could deal with, in theory, at least. Then again, she had never been quoted in the papers before…featured, yes, but not quoted.

Trixie’s pace slowed as she approached the Castle itself, not out of apprehension, but rather to simply avoid bumping into ponies. Thanks to her little trip to the Canterlot central security station, it was now nearly 3 PM. The various ponies of the Night Court, as well as their assistants, their secretaries, their hangers-on, and others, were seeking passage through the gates of Canterlot Castle. Trixie dispelled her the illusion on her coat – gradually, so as to not startle anypony and hopefully avoid their notice altogether – and though she did drop the illusions disguising her hat and cape as well, she wove new ones immediately that turned them into simple gray rather than her signature purple. Hopefully, that would serve as an adequate disguise – never mind that she had to fish an identification badge out from her cape’s pocket and adhere it to the point of one shoulder. Most ponies wouldn’t even look at that, except the guards.

Naturally, when she reached the gate proper, her brilliant plan fell apart when she saw which particular two Night Guards were running the security checkpoint today. Technically, they looked identical at a glance: both pegasi, meaning that their armor changed their appearances to make their coats a deep gray, their eyes yellow and slit like those of a dragon, and giving them bat-like wings and pointed teeth, the goal being to make him look as intimidating as possible. However, a minor cantrip allowed Trixie to look past the glamor, and see the real pony beneath, as well as the name plates on their armor.

“ID?” Moonlight Smiles asked. The Night Guard flashed a big, toothy grin at Trixie when he recognized her, as did his companion, Frolicksome Medowlark. The last time Trixie had run into them, it had been…not a good day.

Trixie nevertheless indicated her ID badge, which Frolicksome leaned in to inspect closely, after a moment, he leaned back, nodding. “Alright,” he said. “Looks legitimate.”

“Remembered it this time, I see,” Moonlight observed.

Trixie resisted the urge to breath out a sigh of relief, and settled on just nodding. Apparently, they weren’t in the mood for obstructing her like they had last time –

“Ma’am,” Moonlight said, using his left wing and left front hoof to point off to the side. “I’ll have to ask you to step aside for a moment in order to facilitate a random full security check.”

Trixie blanched. “A what?” she asked.

“Under the Equestrian Security Act, we are required to give random detailed security checks,” Frolicksome clarified. “If you’ll just wait over there, a specialist will be along shortly.”

Trixie blinked, looking to where the pegasus was indicating. “You haven’t stopped anypony else!” she exclaimed.

“They are random,” Moonlight pointed out.

Trixie opened her mouth to object further, before remembering that she was in a line, and there were other ponies behind her – other ponies that she really didn’t want to have to deal with right now. Sighing audibly, Trixie stepped from the line, while Moonlight looked up the length of the wall and waved to one of the castle guards stationed there, who waved back in confirmation and disappeared from the parapet.

Unsurprisingly, randomness didn’t choose to strike again while Trixie waited for a minute…which turned to two…then five…she glared at the two Night Guards, who pointedly ignored her until the line to enter Canterlot Castle grounds finally thinned to nothing, ten minutes later – and the promised “specialist” still hadn’t shown up.

Frolicksome cast a glance her way. “I’m sure he’ll be along,” he assured her.

Trixie fumed. “I’m sure,” she echoed dryly.

As it turned out, the two Night Guards weren’t lying –the pony showed up less than a minute later. Even still, Trixie’s patience had just about run its course as she opened her mouth to begin listing a litany of complaints – words which died in her throat when she saw who she was facing: a tall, white unicorn with a blue mane and tail, dressed in the silver armor of the Royal Guard. He was not a member of the Night Guard, so there was no disguising glamor over him.

Trixie recognized him, even as he fixed Trixie with a tight-lipped grin. “Greetings,” he said. “My name is Shining Armor, and I’ll be overseeing your security inspection.”

Shining Armor. The Captain of the Royal Guard. The pony who had dared defy Corona when she had escaped from the Sun. The heir apparent to the House of Starlight – the son of Viceroy Night Light, and the older brother, Trixie now knew, of Twilight Sparkle.

“…okay…” Trixie intoned in a small voice.

---

Trixie technically accomplished her goal of entering Canterlot Castle, but it was only while trotting beside Shining Armor, who led her to a small, out-of-the-way room that very much resembled the one she had just left at the train station, albeit with a much sturdier door, a clock on the inside, and a water fountain with cups sitting right outside of it. Shining Armor directed Trixie to take a seat on one side of the table that dominated the center of the room, and she obeyed without question, while Shining himself took a seat on the other side, conjuring up several sheets of paper, an inkwell, and a quill from nothingness as he did so.

He did not break eye contact with Trixie as the quill dipped into the inkwell, and its point placed itself on the sheet of paper.

“Now,” Shining Armor said, and the quill recorded his words deftly. “This conversation will be recorded and kept on file. Could you please state your name and occupation clearly?”

Trixie fidgeted. “Trixie Lulamoon,” she said after a moment. “Representative of the Night Court of Luna to Ponyville.”

Trixie noted that when she spoke, the words were written down in black, while Shining Armor’s own words were written in red. The quill automatically dipped and returned to the paper of its own accord as Shining Armor kept his eyes on her. “Your purpose in Canterlot Castle?”

“I…I’m seeking an audience with your…that is, with Viceroy Night Light.”

Shining Armor frowned a little. “I see,” he said. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No. I was hoping to make one.”

Shining Armor’s frown deepened again. It…was not quite what she had been expecting, which was an angry scowl. This one seemed almost…disappointed? As though she was, herself, failing to live up to his expectations. “What did you wish to discuss with the viceroy?”

“Um,” Trixie said, fidgeting again, “the, uh…situation in Ponyville…do you know about it?”

“State it for the record.”

Trixie tapped her front hooves together. “There was an attack on Ponyville, by Zecora,” she explained. “She was trying to place some kind of curse on the town, I don’t know what. I disrupted it, but it din’t stop the spell, just changed it…our alcohol made us go wild and destroy the town before we set everything right. Nopony was seriously injured…but the damages amount to nearly nine hundred thousand bits. The town only has fifty thousand in its emergency fund. So…so I’m here to discuss the situation with the viceroy.”

Shining Armor stared at her. “I see,” he said. “Is that all? You’re not here for anything else?

“No, nothing.”

“You’re sure? Not even something like giving him parenting advice?”

Trixie recoiled. For a moment she had allowed herself to hope that Shining Armor hadn’t read the paper today – apparently, she was wrong. “No!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t say anything about that! Equestria Nightly is lying!”

Shining Armor’s eyes narrowed at that. “I see,” he said.

Trixie opened her mouth to continue, but the look on Shining Armor’s face strongly suggested that it would be a good idea not to. “It’s not true,” she said defiantly anyway as she sat down, crossing her front legs before her and looking away. “Somepony faked that newspaper article…or at least lied about that part. I haven’t spoken at all to any reporters.”

“Mmm-hmm…” Shining Armor intoned. “Mother’s name?”

Trixie blinked. “What?”

“Well, this is a full security check, Miss Lulamoon. Very thorough. Though the questions probably won’t take more than, oh, ten minutes. Verifying them, on the other hoof…” He chuckled slightly. “So…mother’s name?”

“Crescent Starshine…but she’s not the pony who raised me. My aunt did, Moonsinger. And my uncle Sky Shaper.”

Shining Armor nodded at that. “Any brothers or sisters? Or cousins?”

Trixie suppressed a sigh at the grim prospect of spending the next hour – or longer – in this room. “Cousins,” she said. “Seven of them…”

Trixie wasn’t certain if what she’d endured technically qualified as an interview or an interrogation. She’d never endured so many personal questions in her life, and was fairly certain that even Luna didn’t have as detailed a knowledge of her history as Shining Armor now did. After they finished the questions – a process which took nearly half an hour, not the ten minutes Shining Armor had promised – he had left her alone in the room while everything she’d given was sent-off to be checked.

Fortunately, Trixie was not a pony who easily got bored – or rather, she was a pony who, when she got bored, could easily keep herself entertained with illusions. She practiced creating duplicates of herself, throwing her voice, silencing her movements. The room she was in, in fact, created near-perfect echoes, allowing her to practice a particular sound effect – or rather, an anti-sound effect – that she had been working on for months now.

It wasn’t long before she rifled through all her illusions, of course, and she found that only an hour had passed while she did. Her knowledge of the remaining seven schools of magic was somewhat limited, but that only made her need to practice the ones she did know all the greater. Unfortunately, that only took half an hour. Trixie groaned, tapping one hoof on the floor in impatience. Well…there was something else she’d wanted to try, but she hadn’t had time for it over the past few weeks, and least of all over the past few days.

Well, now she did. Sighing slightly, Trixie trotted over to the door for the room, opening it and sticking her head out. She was unsurprised to see a silver-armored guard standing outside, who only shot her a second’s glance before returning to stoic silence. Trixie paid him no mind – she wasn’t under arrest, after all – as she trotted over to the water fountain, filled a cup, and then brought it back into the interview/interrogation room.

“Okay,” Trixie said, setting the cup on the table and staring at it. “Let’s see…”

Trixie cast her mind inwards. Some months ago, she’d had a flirtation with Zebra magic rituals, which operated under completely different principles from pony magic. Zebra magic was external, and ritual-driven, powered by magic words and etched circles and basically exploiting loopholes in reality, as opposed to the natural, internally-kept-externally-expressed magic of unicorns.

But no matter how alien it was, it was still magic. And Trixie’s special talent was magic. More than that, she had an instinctive understanding of magic, at least to some degree. It allowed her to learn spells by watching them be cast by other unicorns, or to modify spells she knew to fit new situations. All her various illusion tricks, in fact, were all the same spell, simply with little variations to how much power she used, or where she put the power.

So what she was about to attempt was at least theoretically possible. She gathered power into her horn and began waving her front hooves around, eyes closed. Her first flirtation with Zebra magic had been…well, disastrous. But it had led her to this spell, a potion, which she’d cast several times now, refining her knowledge of it. And more importantly, understanding how the zebra magic wound through the loopholes of reality – and figuring out ways, she hoped, of duplicating it herself.

It was a trying process. Trixie basically had to use her own magic to substitute for the effect bitterroot had in the brew – then the petals of a white rose – then the juice of a green apple picked no more than a day ago. As she worked magic over the cup of water in front of her, each step took longer than it normally would have.

If nothing else, it was a way to kill time.

At length, Trixie finished magically infusing ingredients into the water. She leaned forward now, getting right up to the cup and saying, with all the conviction she could muster, “uwongo ni baraka…Ukweli ni Mjeledi.”

Lies are a blessing – the Truth is a Scourge.

All at once, the magic she had gathered seemed to collapse into the cup of water, which roiled and bubbled as though boiling. By the time it had settled down, the water had turned opaque and green, and was considerably more viscous than water should have been.

Trixie blinked. It looked right. It even smelled right. But had she succeeded? Only one way to find out. Steeling herself, Trixie grasped the potion, then swallowed it all in one fell gulp. It tasted bitter going down her throat – and as soon as she began to exhale…

“Did it work? I think it worked okay I can’t stop talking can I lie though? I want to say my coat is green let’s try that: my coat is blue. I can’t lie! I did it! I cast a zebra spell with unicorn magic! Ha! Oh Stars right I can’t lie and can’t stop talking that might be bad I hope that – ”

Trixie’s horn glowed, and her mouth clamped shut as a small jolt of magic travelled through her body, a sort of ‘emergency break’ she’d put into the spell after an unfortunate incident with her first go at casting it. Cautiously, she looked at her foreleg. “My coat is green,” she ventured – then smiled. “Ha!” She exclaimed. She’d cast a Zebra spell using unicorn magic! She wasn’t certain, but she was pretty sure that nopony in Equestrian history had ever been able to pull off such a feat.

Trixie checked the time. Ten minutes had passed.

“…noix,” she cursed in Prench. Now what was left to do?

---

Several hours later, Shining Armor appeared again, all smiles and grins in a way that Trixie was certain he knew would grate on her after having spent so much time in one room with nothing to keep herself entertained beyond her illusion. He also chose an awful time to come in at that – she’d set up an illusionary landscape on the table, and had been in the process of re-creating the famous windmill scene from Don Rocinante. It was just about to get to the good part, too…

“Well,” he said. “I have good news for you, Miss Lulamoon: everything checks out. You are free to enter Canterlot Castle.”

Trixie nodded, keeping her mouth tightly shut and infinitely glad that she knew how to dispel Truth is a Scourge. As she dispelled her illusion, however, she looked to Shining Armor, grimacing slightly, rather than starting immediately for the door. “Captain Armor,” she said. “Are you…are you going to be seeing your father any time soon?”

Shining Armor’s eyes narrowed. “That is none of your concern,” he noted.

Trixie nodded. “I understand,” she said, fidgeting. She had no idea how to phrase what she wanted to say, so she just said it. “I’m sorry for what happened with Twilight.”

The captain of the guard didn’t react. Trixie decided that this was a good sign. “I’ve tried to apologize to your father,” she said. “Three times, I sent messages to his office here and to Latigo…he keeps returning them unopened. I just want to apologize for the part I played in making her run off. Could…could you make sure he knows, if you see him before I do? And you too. I’m sorry. If I could do that night over…I know it must be hard, not having seen her in so long – ”

“I saw her a month ago,” Shining Armor interrupted.

Trixie blinked. “Wh…you did?” she asked, stepping forward. “Was she alright? What happened?”

Shining Armor’s mouth was a thin line as he stared at Trixie. “I was on leave,” he said. “In Latigo. There’s a small town there, on the border with Xenophon and the wild north. My parents and my sister and I used to go there on holidays. I went there…and she was there.”

Trixie already had a bad feeling about where this was going. “I tried to talk to her, but she started running,” Shining Armor continued. “I trapped her in a magic shield. I’d always been able to do that before – my special talent is protection. Nothing gets through my shields…I thought. I tried to tell her to come home. She…she said she couldn’t. Not until she’d shown us all that you, Miss Lulamoon, were a fake. Then…then she used the most powerful teleporting magic I’ve ever seen. Shattered my spell, knocked me to the ground. When I got up, she was gone.”

Trixie stared. She didn’t know what to say at first, though the answer came quickly enough. “I’m sorry.”

Shining Armor only shook his head, turning around. “I’ll pass the message,” he said, trotting off.

Trixie took note of the fact that he did not say that he accepted Trixie’s apology. She gave it only even odds that he was telling the truth about passing her apology on to Night Light – but it was a start. The blue unicorn shivered as she trotted from the security station, making her way to the castle proper. “What else can go wrong?” she demanded.

“Representative Lulamoon!” A determined, slightly angry voice called.

“Why do I ask these things?” Trixie asked of the universe as she looked around for the source of the voice. She found it swiftly, in the form of a pale-yellow-coated, pink-maned pegasus mare that was trotting swiftly up to her side. The mare was wearing a fine dress and jewelry that suggested her to be a member of the nobility.

Trixie’s eyes widened at the sight. She was taller, and her colors were off, but the mare looked an awful lot like…

“…Fluttershy?” Trixie asked in confusion.

4. Running Interference

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Trixie collected her wits just as the pegasus mare reached her – this couldn’t possibly be Fluttershy, not from the way she looked, nor more importantly carried herself. “Miss Lulamoon,” she said, sounding exceptionally cross. “Do you know who I am?”

Trixie rifled through her knowledge of ponies of the Night Court. This time six months ago, she probably would have been able to name all two-hundred forty three nobles within it on sight, but after six months in Ponyville, she was getting a little rusty. “No,” she said. She had almost prefaced that with I’m sorry, but frankly at this point she was growing more than a little exasperated with this trip.

The pegasus didn’t seem to mind. “Duchess Fragrant Posey,” she said. “I am the head of the Royal Ministry of Weather Management, and I am here with a demand: leave my niece alone.”

Trixie stared, as her memory was jogged. Posey…weather magnates from Cloudsdale. Fragrant Posey was the sister to Thunderous Posey, who owned a majority of the weather factory and, in essence, controlled weather production throughout Equestria. She blinked a few times when she came up with blanks for any other ponies named Posey, however, at least ones that she knew. “Who?”

“My niece,” Fragrant clarified. “Fluttering Posey. I have twice heard you mentioned in letter wrote to me by her, and it was not in a flattering light.”

Trixie shook her head. “I don’t even know who you’re talking about – ”

“Please, Miss Lulamoon, do not lie. I know it was you who threatened to drag her from her home on the Longest Night, and she got a very good look at you when you stole one of her chickens, and then returned it a week later with the poor thing’s back plucked!” The duchess leaned in close. “I don’t know what intimidations you are trying to play with my family, but – ”

“Fluttershy?” Trixie asked suddenly as enlightenment struck.

The Duchess leaned away. “Ooh…I’ve always hated that nickname,” she seethed slightly. “That Rainbow Dash gave it to her. Fluttering likes it, I suppose, but it seems so insulting…but yes, Fluttering is my niece.”

Trixie’s eyes widened. “Fluttershy’s real name is Fluttering Posey?” Trixie demanded. First Twilight turned out to be a Starlight…now Fluttershy was a Posey? What was next? Were Flim and Flam going to show up and reveal themselves to be second cousins to Wallflower? Was Gilda going to return as the heir apparent to a restored Griffin Empire? How badly could she have possibly screwed up?

Fragrant glared at Trixie. “Indeed,” she said, looking Trixie up and down. “So please, Miss Lulamoon. Fluttering detests the Night Court and wants nothing to do with it. Leave her alone, or I am afraid I will have to take steps to protect my family.”

The higher, less vindictive side of Trixie’s mind had shut down in shock, which was probably not a good thing. “Like what?” she demanded. “Somepony’s already printed lies about me in the newspaper! My home is already literally falling apart! Night Light already wants my blood! What could you possibly do? I guess my own family hasn’t been touched yet…you going to go after them? Go after my cousins? My aunt and uncle?”

Fragrant’s own eyes grew wide. “I beg your pardon?” She demanded.

“My life has been going straight into the sun ever since I became a Representative! If it’s not Greengrass trying to screw over my friends, it’s Night Light starving Ponyvlle, and somepony has been printing lies about me in the newspaper, bet that’s Greengrass too…or was that you? Giving me a taste of what you’d do if I didn’t listen to you?” Trixie stomped up to Fragrant. “For your information, Duchess, Fluttershy and I are friends!”

Fragrant blinked a few times at that. “What?” she asked.

Trixie’s higher brain grabbed the reins again, and pulled her back. She let out an exhausted sigh. “Last month,” she said. “Me and my friend Carrot Top have this monthly spa appointment. And Carrot Top is friends with Fluttershy and recently managed to convince Fluttershy to go to the spa too. But Carrot Top isn’t exactly swimming in cash, so she arranged things for me and Fluttershy to meet there, turn it into a big spa party thing. We got to talking – well, okay, I did most of the talking – and I apologized for scaring her at the Longest Night, which I didn’t mean to do, and for stealing her chicken, which I had a really good but very private reason for.” Trixie shuffled in place. “Maybe 'friend' is too strong a word…but I don’t think she hates me. And I don’t hate her. I didn’t even know she was a Posey!”

Fragrant had one hoof to her mouth and her wings slightly flared as she weighed Trixie’s words. “I haven’t heard from her for a few months…” she mused. “Can you prove this, Miss Lulamoon?”

Trixie opened her mouth to attempt to do just that, when the two were suddenly jointed by a white earth pony mare with white hair, though despite her coat colors, she actually looked relatively young. She seemed to have almost materialized from nowhere, despite Fragrant and Trixie standing in the middle of a relatively open courtyard, where they should have easily noticed her approach. “Begging your pardon, Miss Lulamoon, Duchess Posey,” the earth pony said, offering a bow of respect to the latter. “But I was sent by Duke Greengrass. An important matter has come up concerning the weather patterns in Caneighda, and he needs to see you immediately.”

Trixie’s face soured at the name Greengrass. To her surprise, so did Fragrant’s, though only for a moment. “Miss…Notary, isn’t it?” Fragrant asked. “I will be along presently, then.”

“Thank-you, Duchess,” Notary said with another respectful bow. She kept her gaze carefully on Fragrant, not making eye contact at all with Trixie.

Fragrant, meanwhile, turned back to Trixie. “It is possible that I was in error, Miss Lulamoon,” she said. “If that is the case, then I apologize. But I demand an apology in return for your saying that I would resort to the same base tactics that I was wrongly accusing you of. When I said that I would take steps, I meant only that I would ask Princess Luna to intervene if it proved necessary.”

Trixie almost considered not giving her one out of spite, but decided that she had enough enemies in the Court already – she didn’t need another one on top of that, least of all one who had been, from the looks of things, only trying to defend her family, and who seemed eminently more reasonable than Night Light or Shining Armor on the matter. “I’m sorry, Duchess,” she said, bowing her head. Fragrant nodded in acknowledgement of it, before trotting off, Notary in tow.

Trixie let out a long sigh. She made a point of not wondering what could go wrong next.

---

“What are you doing, Duke?”

Duke Greengrass paused in the middle of his speech to Fragrant Posey. Given that it was entirely improvised, he didn’t mind the pause: though he thought he was winging it well enough, he could use it to gather his thoughts. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I thought I had explained that in the beginning. Caneighda has a relatively low pegasus population, you see, so our weather is a bit more free than is normal in Equestria. I was hoping that perhaps you could help me put together a program to incentivize pegasi moving to the – ”

Fragrant shook her head. “That is not what I mean. I’m referring to Representative Lulamoon.”

Greengrass offered a slightly confused stare. “I had heard she was in Canterlot,” he ventured, “but I’m not certain what you’re talking about.”

Fragrant stared hard at Greengrass. “I ran into her,” she said. “In the castle Courtyard. Interestingly I might not have encountered her at all, had I not just been returning from a sudden meeting with Archduke Fisher concerning magical imports to Cloudsdale, a meeting that wasn’t scheduled and which he seemed to have forgotten about, given how unprepared for it he seemed.”

Greengrass pursed his lips. The benefit to keeping his office as painstakingly organized as it was, was that he knew where everything was. As soon as Notary had announced the duchess’ arrival for the weather situation in Caneighda, he had trotted right over to his desk and produced all the necessary documents and charts before the pegasus had even made herself comfortable. Notary’s language had even made it clear what the meeting was supposed to be about – it was a situation, which meant it was supposed to be negative, though not to the levels of a crisis. Situations could be interpreted from any set of data that Greengrass had on hoof. “I’m not certain I understand,” he said.

Fragrant considered Greengrass for several long moments, before her face softened, and she let out a slight sigh. “Perhaps I am being paranoid,” she said. “I consider one unexpected meeting a week to be unusual…two in one day may have set off some alarm bells.”

The duke offered a chuckle. “I can understand that,” he said, though he did not believe her put-on relaxation in the slightest. Fragrant knew about the role he had played in a relatively minor political altercation a few months back – knew, and could not be happy. Necessity required them to work together still, of course, and Fragrant was not one for petty revenge – but on some level, the duchess knew that the Duke was up to something, and simply had not yet finished putting together all the pieces in her head. She had perhaps been hoping for some kind of reaction from the Duke, but he had betrayed none.

Their conversation turned back to the weather situation in Caneighda. The duke’s home province really could stand to have more pegasi, though the situation was hardly an emergency by any means, more an inconvenience when the summers tended to last a little longer and burn a little hotter than they were supposed to. The duke had been holding off on fixing the problem until he could use it as a cover for something else, and it had, apparently, just paid off.

Notary – his personal assistant – was keeping an eye on Lulamoon at the moment. She had a talent for not being seen when she ought to be, and could make sure that Lulamoon was constantly deflected and bounced one way or another while trying to get to Night Light. Fragrant’s meeting with her had been planned out, to an extent, timed with the archduke, though apparently Fisher wasn’t nearly as good at improvisation as Greengrass was. He made up for it, though, with sheer sway in Equestria Nightly – the unicorn’s castigating of Lulamoon had perhaps been a little heavy-hooved, but there was no denying that it had gotten the job done. Blueblood, meanwhile, had little to contribute to the effort, beyond saying that he’d ‘make some calls,’ whatever that meant.

Between Fisher’s newspaper article and Notary’s deflections, Lulamoon would be kept going round and round Canterlot all night, never actually reaching Night Light. By the end of it, she would be angry, frustrated, and probably more than a little desperate – just as planned.

---

Trixie’s not thinking about how things could get worse didn’t help, of course. What should have been all of a five-minute walk somehow transformed into an epic quest of tedium. Halls were closed for repair. Tour groups were blocking her progress. Twice she ran into ponies who had heard about the situation in Ponyville and wanted to offer their condolences, that they represented special interest groups who would love to help foot the bill, and would she please just sign here? Trixie had to point out to them that, as a Representative, she didn’t have the authority to sign anything. She still made a note of them for Ivory Scroll once she returned to Ponyville.

Three times, she ran into “personal friends” of Night Light, who took it upon themselves to stop her and inform her – at great length – how terrible a pony she was. Trixie did her best to take their insults and not get involved in shouting matches with them. She even succeeded on her first try. The latter two…somewhat less so.

At great length, in spite of the universe itself, it seemed, trying to impede her, she finally managed to find the office of Night Light, steel herself, and enter. At last – the end was in sight!

She had thought.

“How does the Viceory 'being out' prevent me from making an appointment to see him?” Trixie demanded of the gray unicorn stallion that served as the viceroy’s assistant. Every member of the Night Court had their own small – or not-so-small, depending on how much pull they had – office within the greater Canterlot Castle, which was really more like a small settlement in and of itself with a dozen satellite structures clustered around the castle proper. Night Light’s office appeared to be roughly the size of a modest apartment, from what little of it Trixie could see from its foyer, where the gray unicorn was sitting behind a desk overloaded with paperwork. His mane was nearly black, while his cutie mark was obscured by the desk he sat behind.

The unicorn shrugged. “Without the viceroy being here,” he said, “I cannot know, Miss Lulamoon, when he’d want to place a meeting with you.”

“He has a schedule. I can see it,” Trixie pointed out, eyeing the planner that was, in fact, sitting open in front of the gray unicorn. “He has to have open slots in it for unexpected meetings.” Her eyes narrowed. “I can see those, too.”

The gray unicorn made no effort to conceal the planner. “Just so,” he said, “the viceroy is very particular about his spare time, Miss Lulamoon. There is nothing I can do.”

Trixie glared at the unicorn. The unicorn stared back, though not particularly maliciously. At length, Trixie let out a long, angry sigh. “Fine,” she hissed. Her horn glowed, and she telekinetically grabbed a quill from the unicorn’s desk, as well as a sheet of paper. She scribbled down a note, folded it in half, and passed it to the unicorn. “Please see to it that the viceroy gets this.”

“Of course, Miss Lulamoon.”

Trixie sighed again, stomping from the office. After she had, the gray unicorn stood up, walking to the door of the office and checking down its length. Trixie continued stomping off, and as the unicorn’s horn glowed lavender, he couldn’t detect any kind of magical ruse on her part.

The unicorn unfolded the sheet of paper, reading it.

To Viceroy Night Light –

I am here on behalf of the town of Ponyville to officially request aid from the Royal Emergency Management Ministry. I would like to meet with you at your earliest convenience, and will be stopping by tomorrow at 1 o’clock in order to arrange a meeting.

On a personal note, I swear to the Stars that I did not say the things that Equestria Nightly printed. I do not know who quoted me as saying that. I would like to once again apologize for the part I played in the Ursa Minor incident some months ago.

Please, do not let an entire town suffer for my mistakes.

– Trixie, Night Court Representative of Ponyville

“Oh, poor dear,” the gray unicorn said softly, “you’re trying so hard, aren’t you?” The unicorn then trotted over to a nearby closet, opened it, and telekinetically hefted out a unconscious unicorn that was identical to hum in every way save cutie mark – for the unconscious unicorn had an hour glass cutie mark, while the one who’s horn glowed had a cutie mark of a black envelope.

The unconscious unicorn was propped up behind the desk, made to look like he had simply fallen asleep, rather than put to sleep with a creative application of magic. “Napping on the job,” the conscious unicorn noted, patting him on the head a few times, then returning to the closet and grabbing his cloak, sliding the note inside. “Not a good way to get ahead in life.”

The gray unicorn left the office of Night Light at that and smiling as ‘he’ made sure to get all the way back to the agreed-upon meeting place before dropping ‘his’ disguise: ‘his’ coat becoming white, ‘his’ mane becoming purple, and ‘his’ proportions changing to be more in line with that of a mare than a stallion. Which was just as well: even with her disguise being only an illusion, Zizanie never felt entirely comfortable disguising herself as a stallion.

The meeting room was another one of the small side-rooms in Canterlot; this particular one had a window that overlooked the courtyard and, by extension, the city beyond. There was already a white-coated, blond-maned unicorn waiting for Zizanie as she entered. “Done,” she said simply, holding forward the note that Trixie had left behind.

Viscount Prince Blueblood smiled brightly. “Excellent!” he said, as he took the note and read it over. He winced. “This will prove an embarrassment for Lulamoon when she shows up tomorrow,” he noted.

Zizanie agreed. It was part of why she’d agreed to take this job on such short notice in the first place: a chance to get a personal stab in at Trixie. In her line of work – blackmail, mostly, though she moonlighted in extortion, spying, and occasional larceny – personal vendettas were usually seen as an unnecessary risk. Then again, whoever had come up with that rule had never had to deal with Trixie Lulamoon.

“It’s a good thing that Trixie showed up,” Zizanie noted of Blueblood. “I thought that Greengrass’ crony was running interference and would stop her. Not that I’d complain about getting a free meal, mind. Speaking of…?”

Blueblood nodded, reaching into his jacket and producing Zizanie’s fee from an inside pocket – a bar of solid platinum, worth several thousand bits. “I had…a feeling,” Blueblood noted.

Zizanie suspected that it was much more likely to be luck – good for Blueblood, bad for Trixie – rather than any real skill on Blueblood’s part. His cutie mark of a compass rose did suggest that he had some kind of special talent related to direction, so it was just inside the realm of possibility that he had, in fact, know that Trixie would be able to make her way to her destination – possible, that was, if one didn’t know anything about Blueblood.

Zizanie elected to merely slide the platinum bar into her cloak pocket – it was wonderfully weighty – and just nod at Blueblood’s assertion. Skill or luck, he had been right, and Zizanie had been paid, and that was all that mattered. “Pleasure doing business with you,” she said, turning and leaving.

---

Duke Greengrass pursed his lips, looking up from the rough draft of the nascent Caneighdian immigration incentive bill, as Notary finished explaining what had happened after several hours of running interference. Despite her best efforts – and they were, in fact, quite impressive, how Notary had managed to arrange pretty much everything but a war breaking out to keep Trixie from Night Light – Trixie had gotten to Night Light’s office. But, it turned out, it hadn’t mattered: Blueblood had hired Zizanie again and ultimately, in a manner of speaking, saved the day.

“That…is an unexpected amount of foresight on Blueblood’s part,” Greengrass noted. He thought back to his conversation earlier, with Blueblood and Fisher. Blueblood had never actually agreed with Fisher concerning magic and curses…and had seemed surprisingly well informed about the Ponyville situation, more so than Fisher, in any event. “I suspect I may have underestimated the viscount.”

Notary frowned at that. “I doubt that, sir. It’s much more likely that, knowing that Lulamoon had to be stopped, simply fell back to a familiar ally. This is not the first time he has worked with Zizanie.”

Greengrass considered carefully. “Probably,” he admitted. “But I think a somewhat more cautious approach around him may be in order. Even a stopped clock is right twice a day; perhaps this is just an example of that in action. Still, I’d hate to think that he grew some additional brain cells now, of all times.”

Notary nodded. “Yes, sir. You do still have some leverage over him thanks to the Symphony incident. Perhaps you should put it to use?”

“Hmm…” Greengrass considered, weighing out the costs verses the benefits. “After the gala, I think. I don’t want to be running too much at one time and end up tripping over myself. Isolating Lulamoon and bringing her and the Elements over to Fisher, Blueblood, and I is the priority right now.”

Notary nodded again. “Yes, sir.”

“Where is Lulamoon now?”

“Getting a hotel. Her old room is undergoing maintenance – that wasn’t me, sir, it’s part of the regular maintenance schedule. I have rented the room next to hers for Bear to keep an eye on her.”

Greengrass frowned at that. Bear was one of his bodyguards, alongside Ox. Their names were well-earned. “A little heavy, don’t you think?”

“I told him to watch her only and come and get me if she leaves. Given the nature this operation, I felt that trust was most important than not being noticeable.”

Greengrass considered that for a moment, then nodded, grateful that he had hired more than just dumb muscle to be his personal bodyguards. “Valid point. Excellent job today, Notary.”

---

Trixie felt more than a little guilty, getting a hotel room when at least a quarter of all the beds in Ponyville were unusable. But the simple fact of the matter was that Canterlot moved according to a different pace from Ponyville, which did not have the nocturnal tendencies of Canterlot. She wasn’t used to staying up all night, and it didn’t help that she’d caught the earliest train to the city, either.

Naturally, sleep would not come as her mind went over the day’s events. Between the train station, the newspaper, Shining Armor, running into Fragrant, the dozen problems she had just trying to reach Night Light, and then ultimately it all having been for nothing…she was too depressed to sleep, and her mind too active.

It was too much to be coincidence. Somepony was actually out to get her. Manipulating events to keep her from Night Light. But who? As near as Trixie could tell, there were really only two possibilities on that front. The first was Night Light himself, doing everything in his power to avoid Trixie. Such vindictiveness seemed more than possible from the viceroy, but then again, the sheer effort seemed unlikely. If Night Light didn’t want to see Trixie, he could simply not see her. He was a viceroy and she was just a representative, and not even from a major city like Manehattan or Fillydelphia.

That left only one real possibility: Duke Greengrass. The duke had been trying to gain control of the Elements for months now, first by trying to manipulate Lyra, then Carrot Top, into situations where they would owe or otherwise be at the mercy of Greengrass. All of Ponyville needing aid must have seemed like a silver platter to him, a chance to apply pressure to Trixie directly, rather than her friends.

Trixie had nothing. No friends in the Night Court, no acquaintances, nopony who owed her favors…

…all she could do was keep at it. Keep trying to see Night Light. Sheer persistence would eventually outpace anything that was thrown against her, she was sure.

She hoped, anyway…

5. Night Light

View Online

“I’m sorry, Miss Lulamoon, but I don’t actually have any record of you checking in.”

“It’s just Trixie. And I did, and now I’m checking out – ”

“I’m going to need you to pay for the room, however.”

“I did last night!”

“Not according to my records…”

---

“Officer, I blatantly have the bits, why would I break into the hotel without paying and then try to check out?”

“I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding. I’ll just need a statement from you, and your place of residence should the proprietor choose to pursue the matter further.”

“How long will that take?”

“About an hour…”

“You know what? Forget it, I’ll just pay, again – ”

“Fair enough, ma’am, but I’ll still need to take the statement regardless…”

---

“What do you mean you don’t have any doughnuts?”

“Well, we just finished our breakfast rush. I’m sorry, ma’am, if you’ll just wait a few, the next batch will be coming out.”

“How long?”

“Ten minutes…”

---

“How could the line be this long?”

“It’s the field trips. Three in one day? All arriving just as the gates open? Perfect storm of chaos.”

“All before the Gala?”

“Looks that way. I’ve already been waiting half an hour…”

---

“Security check.”

“What? No! I just did a random check yesterday!”

“Not a full check, ma’am, just a five-minute interview. With the Gala tomorrow we’re in security overdrive. We’ve been pulling every fifth pony out of line.”

“…fine. Where’s the line for the interviews?”

“Over there.”

“…that’s absurd! I’ll be an hour waiting there!”

“Sorry, ma’am, rules are rules…”

---

“…alright, ma’am, we’re done.”

Trixie let out a long sigh of relief as she was granted leave to enter Canterlot Castle. Against all odds, the interview really had been only about five minutes long (her guess about the line’s length had been spot-on, however), with a pony whom she didn’t recognize and whom did not seem to recognize her, either. She had simply been faced with bad luck here – and, admittedly, probably at Donut Joe’s, as well, as she couldn’t see any of her political rivals being so petty as to buy out the stock of where she tried to get her breakfast – and unless they were clairvoyant they couldn’t have known where she was planning to eat, anyway.

But the three field trips? Potentially just a coincidence, but the fact that all three schools were from Canterlot, and spur-of-the-moment besides, strongly argued against that. And then there was her records at the hotel ‘disappearing.’ Once was coincidence, but twice was conspiracy, as the old adage went. And now? It was past two o’clock – she had missed when her note had said that she would meet with Night Light, in effect snubbing him – and one did not snub a viceroy of the Night Court.

Two tour groups, a scheduled maintenance, and running into a Count who was another ‘old friend’ of Night Light that wanted to tell her she was a horrible pony later, Trixie at last found herself – at three-thirty – standing inside Night Light’s office, looking at an orange pegasus secretary who was ruffling her wings in concern at Trixie’s request as she examined both the schedule in front of her and occasionally rifled through filing cabinets.

“I’m sorry,” the pegasus mare said. “…but you’re not scheduled for any meeting with the viceroy, and I can’t seem to find the note you’re referring to.”

“I left it with a gray unicorn yesterday,” Trixie insisted.

The pegasus mare bit her lip as she continued searching. “I’m sorry…I’m not the viceroy’s normal secretary, Charcoal took to the day off because of a headache…but I really don’t see anything.”

Trixie fumed internally, her rage threatening to burst forth. She struggled to remind herself that this mare was not the secretary who had lost her note. “Can you please,” she said, “schedule me to meet with viceroy Night Light at his earliest convenience?”

The secretary nodded, looking down at the schedule in front of her. “How does…next week sound? The 16th? I’m afraid that, what with the Gala, that’s the only free time the viceroy has…”

Trixie closed her eyes tightly at that. “Seven days from now.”

“That is the earliest, yes.”

“Nothing today?”

“I’m afraid not. The viceroy is in meetings for the rest of the day and the night. And tomorrow’s the Gala…”

“…fine. Just…just fine.” Trixie opened her eyes, watching intently as the mare scribbled down the note in the planner. Once she was certain the note had been written down, she turned around and stomped away, trying desperately to convince herself that what she had achieved constituted ‘progress.’

---

Trixie stared at the remains of her hay shake. Naturally, it was not only not cheering her up, but the pony who’d made it for her had informed her that a) his shake shop did not have hot sauce, and b) even if it did, for her own good he would not have added it to the shake anyway, and c) given what she’d been saying in the papers, she was lucky he was even serving her in the first place. He’d repeated as much each time Trixie had bought a new shake and made the same request.

So. She sat outdoors, on a patio with tables and umbrellas set up, staring at her empty cup, her fifth, or maybe sixth. The sun was hovering just over the horizon at this point, its golden glare largely obscured by the towers of Canterlot, casting the entire town in varying shades of fading reds and yellows that would soon be fading to orange, then purple, before the silver light of the moon and stars – and the artificial light of the numerous lanterns throughout the city – took primacy.

Trixie had hoped that the sugar of the shakes would give her some inspiration, or at the very least drive her into diabetic shock, but neither was happening, the former due to depression overwhelming the sugar, and the latter due to her not being a diabetic, though she supposed that if she drank enough shakes that might change. The proprietor was looking like he might soon kick her out, however. That suited her just fine – it’d give her an excuse to find the nearest pub and switch from shakes to something decidedly stronger. Bourbon, probably, it being her favorite, though for some reason with the mood she was in, the little water, the vodka, of Stalliongrad was looking quite enticing. In all likelihood, she’d follow the old Caballerian mentality of ¿por que no los dos? – why not both? And she’d probably have whisky, too. And rum. And…

“Are you a magician?”

Trixie blinked a few times, looking around for the source of the question. She found it in the form of a blue earth pony colt, who had set down a shake in front of him and was staring expectantly at Trixie.

Trixie offered a tired smile. “Sometimes,” she said, sitting up a little straighter as she glanced around. At the window to the shake shop, Trixie saw two stallions, an earth pony and a unicorn, buying their own shakes; the unicorn was probably the colt’s father, if the coat and mane colors on him were anything to go by.

“Can you do a magic trick?”

Trixie considered. Her first instinct was the coin-from-the-ear trick, but frankly Trixie had to watch her bits – apparently she was going to be in Canterlot for awhile. A glance at her empty shake cup gave her an idea. Taking off her hat, she showed it to the colt. “Empty, right?” she asked. The colt frowned a little, reaching a hoof into the hat and wigging it around before nodding in confirmation. She pulled back, then pointed to her horn. “Now,” she said, “note that my horn is not glowing.” Trixie tossed her hat over her shake cup, wave her hooves over it a few times, then – with a quick bit of slight-of-hoof – snatched her hat off of the table, then cup having been covertly moved from beneath her hat and safely out-of-view under her cape. To the foal, it looked like it had disappeared utterly.

The foal let out a slight cry of surprise, leaping forward and grabbing Trixie’s hat. She let him have it as he stuck his hoof inside, trying to find out where the cup had gone. “Wow!” he exclaimed after a few moments, returning Trixie’s hat to her. “How’d you do that?”

Trixie smiled. It wasn’t much of a smile, but it was a genuine one. “Magic,” she answered cryptically, setting her hat back on the table. Another round of slight-of-hoof later, and her cup was back under her hat with the colt none the wiser, at least not until she took her hat off of the table again and set it back on her head.

The foal gave a few quick but enthusiastic hoof-stomps at the cup’s mysterious return. “I wish I could do magic like that…” he bemoaned. “My dads say that I can too do magic, earth pony magic, and that’s pretty cool, but I wish I could do unicorn magic too!”

Trixie tapped a hoof to her mouth, before looking left and right conspiratorially. “Well,” she said, taking her hat off again. “That wasn’t actually unicorn magic. You could do it too. Here, watch…”

Trixie did the trick again, slower this time and without taking effort to hide her motions. The colt’s fathers came over as she did, though they only watched with bemused looks on their faces, or occasionally helped explain some of the bigger words that Trixie used, as Trixie detailed the steps of the disappearing trick and the basics of slight-of-hoof and stage magic. By the time she was done, after repeating the trick several times, the colt was able to make the cup disappear himself, not as seamlessly as Trixie could, but it would certainly be more than enough to impress his schoolmates.

Eventually, he and his fathers had to leave, the colt looking well pleased with himself and his fathers thanking Trixie for keeping their son amused. The sun had set in the meantime, and Trixie let out a small sigh. It hadn’t been much, it hadn’t been for long, and it in no way helped her concerning Ponyville…but it had been nice, for just a few minutes, to forget what had happened over the past two days and just make use of her special talent of doing magic for others.

“Well,” a voice said from behind Trixie. “That was quite a show, Representative Trixie.”

Trixie blinked a few times, turning around to find the source of the voice. She found herself looking at two stallions, both of whom she recognized as members of the Night Court. The taller of the two was a unicorn, slate gray, wearing a vest, a monocle, and sporting an impressive moustache. His cutie mark was a hammer banging away at a pair of shooting stars. Trixie recognized him – Archduke Bobbing Fisher, an industrialist and very powerful pony, looking intense and determined.

She was considerably more interested, however, in the shorter, brown-coated, red-maned stallion beside him, wearing a vest of his own in addition to his fairly genuine smile. His cutie mark was a red X – Duke Greengrass.

Instantly, the slight good mood she’d managed to build disappeared. “Ah, you recognize us,” Greengrass noted. “Good, that means we can skip introductions. Do you mind if we join you?”

“Emphatically,” Trixie responded.

Neither Greengrass nor Fisher paid her objection any mind as they sat down. Fisher ran a hoof over one half of his moustache thoughtfully as he took Trixie in, while Greengrass instead looked around, taking the patio of the shake shop in thoughtfully. “I don’t believe I’ve ever come here before,” he noted absently. “Tell me, how are the shakes?”

“Not enough hot sauce,” Trixie responded. She took a small amount of joy from the look that overcame Fisher at that, though the joy was killed when Greengrass only seemed to grow more bemused at her response. She kept her gaze focused on Greengrass. “What do you want?”

“We’ve heard,” Fisher ventured, waving a hoof in the air, “that the town you represent has run into a spot of trouble. Something about a zebra, and alcohol, and a…curse…” the last word was said with a slight cough that may have concealed a chuckle. “And in any event, that the REMM had denied your town aid.”

Trixie’s eyes narrowed. “They are examining the situation,” she corrected petulantly.

Fisher offered a shrug with a meaning that could not be plainer: same difference. “It is very unfortunate,” he said. “Frankly, I am shocked that the REMM wouldn’t offer aid to Ponyville in its time of need. The town that the Elements of Harmony call home!”

Greengrass rolled his eyes slightly, and Trixie only stopped herself from doing so on seeing that he had – the last thing she wanted to was imitate him. In any event, Fisher had essentially just shown a spotlight on his and Greengrass’ reason for being here. It was not unheard of for the nobility of the Night Court to go to a small shop like this, but they by and large only did so when they had a reason to. Most considered it akin to slumming.

Trixie leaned forwards. “You’re the reason why I’ve had such a hard time trying to see Night Light,” she surmised.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fisher said.

“You’d have a very difficult time proving that,” Greengrass said at the same time, as he nonchalantly stood up and wandered over to the window. At his virtual admittance, Fisher shot him a glare, which didn’t relent as Greengrass bought a trio of shakes and carried them back over to the table, setting one down in front of Fisher, one in front of him, and a final one in front of Trixie. He took a long sip of his shake before acknowledging Fisher’s glare. “What?” he demanded. “It’s not like she’d believe us if we did lie.” He winked conspiratorially at Trixie, though as he did his eyes locked on to something behind Trixie. Glancing, she saw a white-coated unicorn getting off of a carriage and trotting over to the table.

Trixie had already been in the process of shivering at Greengrass’ wink, and nearly had a full-on shudder as Prince Blueblood trotted up to the table. “Hello, Representative, and my fellow nobles,” Blueblood said. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

From the way Greengrass, and Fisher as well, looked at Blueblood, Trixie surmised that the viscount wasn’t supposed to be here at all, and the fact that he had both found out about the meeting, and made it to it, was immensely annoying to the other two nobles. For all that she did not like Blueblood, that made her feel a little camaraderie towards him – just a little. She pushed the shake that Greengrass had gotten her over to Blueblood. “Enjoy. I’ve already had five.”

“Ah…” Blueblood said, blinking a few times and leaning away. Cautiously, his horn lit up and scooted it back over to Trixie. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Oh, no,” Trixie said, her camaraderie thus expended and instead being replaced with rage. She used her magic to stir up the shake a little, making it nice and liquid. “I insist!”

Trixie tried to hurl the contents of the cup at Blueblood. The white unicorn cried out in surprise, cantering backwards and away from the table and avoiding it, albeit just barely. She tore her gaze away from him as she looked at the other two ponies, standing with her forehooves on the table. “You three…” she hissed. “You’re the ones who printed those lies in the paper! Who arranged for Duchess Fragrant and all those other ponies to stop me yesterday and today! Who lost my reservation at the hotel – you probably did the same to the appointment I made with Night Light, didn’t you?”

“Do we really have to answer that?” Greengrass asked, sipping his shake without concern.

Trixie sat back down, glaring as Blueblood sat back down himself, though only after telekinetically cleaning his seat of thrown shake. “Did you three convince Night Light to not help Ponyville?” she asked, her voice small. Her rage was already sliding away, and her depression was making a full return now.

“Oh no,” Fisher said. “I’m afraid, Representative, that you did that fine all on your own, when you humiliated his daughter and made her into a hunted criminal.”

“Not your finest hour,” Blueblood noted. “But an entire town does not, in fact, have to suffer for your mistakes.”

Trixie didn’t respond. She knew where this was going, but she didn’t have the wherewithal to speed things along at this point.

“Now, I know you’ll probably find this surprising,” Greengrass said, leaning forwards slightly, pressing his hooves together. “But we’re not here to gloat. No – we’re actually here to help.”

“Leaving aside things like causes and responsibilities for the moment,” Fisher continued, “at the end of the day, it is a simple truth that ponies are suffering in Ponyville right now and need aid. And Duke Greengrass, Viscount Blueblood, and myself are all willing to render that aid. It would be a not inconsiderable investment, mind. We would expect a few…considerations.”

Greengrass, Blueblood, and Fisher looked between each other. Trixie noted a large degree of mistrust in the three ponies’ eyes. “Nothing major,” Blueblood said at length. “Just appearances put in here and there by you and your fellow Elements of Harmony. Showing up at certain events…support of bills we might enter into the Night Court... Really, just common courtesy and gratitude for our helping of Ponyville.”

“Essentially, an understanding,” Greengrass said smoothly, “from you and your friends, that we were there in your time of greatest need. We were there for you, so, you should be there for us. This way, you can return to Ponyville as a hero, even. Have your name in the papers as a savior rather than a villain.”

“We’ll let you know how you how you can best show gratitude,” Fisher finished. “Frankly, at this point, it seems like the best possibility for Ponyville.”

Trixie closed her eyes.

“You’ll do what we say, when we say to do it,” she mentally translated for what the three had been saying. “You’ll throw the support of the Elements of Harmony behind all three of us, at least until one of us can oust the other two. You’ll be our political puppets. And in return we’ll fix your hometown. And you will do this, because otherwise, Ponyville will never recover. We don’t even have to put special effort into that.”

The worst part was that they were right, at least concerning Ponyville. Without aid, the town would never financially recover, or at least it would take years and years to do so. Ponies would by and large probably abandon it in favor of better prospects elsewhere – which would hurt the local economy even more.

It was her duty, her responsibility, as Representative of Ponyville to ensure that it got the help it needed. No matter the cost to herself…and surely her friends would agree…

Trixie looked up at the three stallions, all staring expectantly. Each of them were already considering what to do next – how to manipulate the Elements once they were under their political control, how to oust the other two from their alliance of convenience. They represented the absolute worst of the Night Court – the ponies concerned with their own political advancement, rather than the good of Equestria, no matter what they told themselves. They had done everything in their power to stop Trixie from seeing the one pony she desperately needed to…

…everything in their power…Trixie realized suddenly, however, that she had not done everything in her power. These three had bent or broken Stars only know how many rules – while she, like an idiot, had been trying to play by the rules as written.

Trixie stood. “I’ll have to get back to you,” she said, standing and starting to trot off.

Fisher and Blueblood both were taken aback, while Greengrass stood himself, blinking rapidly. “I’m sorry?” he asked.

“I said,” Trixie informed him, “that I’ll have to get back to you. I need to go and meet with Night Light now.” She said.

Then, she mentally appended, probably go to prison. But at least I’ll have tried.

---

The office of Viceroy Night Light was surprisingly simple despite its size. He had a black wooden desk, filing cabinets, and book case full of law and philosophy, while an adjoined room featured a large meeting table. The desk and the meeting table had economical, comfortable but not extravagant sitting cushions, while the walls of the office featured pictures of landscapes or abstract images that were surprisingly cold and sterile. The only indication that an actual pony used the office, as opposed to some kind of machine, were four pictures on the desk – one of Night Light’s wife, Twilight Velvet; one of his son Shining Armor; a third of his daughter Twilight Sparkle. Each of those three had the pony featured in them looking stoic and noble. The fourth picture, however, was a family portrait, and in it each of the three ponies were smiling brightly.

It was 11:47 before Night Light entered his office, telekinetically carrying a number of papers and ledgers, with his orange-coated pegasus secretary following close behind him and telling him of what had happened when he was out. Both Night Light and the secretary were several steps in before they noticed that they weren’t alone in the office – that there was a blue unicorn mare sitting at one of the guest cushions in front of his desk, staring at him. Trixie had taken off her hat, but still wore her cape. Every other avenue of approach open, she’d done the only thing she could: she’d turned herself invisible and inaudible and had snuck into Night Light’s office, waiting for him to arrive.

The secretary stared wide-eyed. “Wh…how…?” she asked, before turning. “I’ll get the guard – ”

“No need, Miss Cirrus,” Night Light said, raising one hoof to stop the pegasus. His eyes, however, did not leave Trixie’s. “Please, wait outside. Miss Lulamoon will be leaving shortly.”

The secretary paused a few moments, before obeying the viceroy, offering a slight bow before she turned and left, closing the door to the office behind her.

Trixie took a moment to take in the viceroy. He was surprisingly average at a glance – deep blue coat with much deeper blue, nearly black hair, parted down the middle to allow for his horn. He seemed reasonably fit, but not particularly so, and the black vest he wore was simple in design. All in all, he in no way looked like he was a contender for the title of ‘most powerful pony in Equestria.’

But a contender he was, so as soon as his secretary had left, Trixie stood, and bowed deeply. “Viceroy Night Light,” she said. “My name is Trixie Lulamoon, Her Majesty’s Representative to Ponyville.”

“Yes, I know,” the viceroy said evenly, trotting past Trixie and behind his desk.

“I’m sorry for breaking into your office,” Trixie said, “but I’m here because of a matter of great importance.”

“Are you?”

Trixie bit her lip. The viceroy’s tone was very neutral as he settled down behind his desk, opening a document and beginning to read it. “Let me begin,” she said, “by saying that I did not say the things printed in Equestria Nightly – ”

“No…” Night Light observed, without looking up. “That was Archduke Fisher, I believe.”

A faint glimmer of hope sprang to life in Trixie’s heart at that. She leaned forward a little. “A-and,” she continued, “I want to apologize for what happened with Twilight – ”

“Shining Armor already passed along your apology,” Night Light interrupted, a slight scowl overcoming his features.

Trixie shifted in place. “I tried to do it face-to-face when Princess Cadenza came to Canterlot,” she said.

“Too soon,” Night Light explained, glancing up for the first time, holding Trixie’s gaze for a few moments, before returning to whatever he was reading.

Trixie decided not to mention the letters. “Viceroy, I am sorry – ”

“If you are here about the situation in Ponyville,” Night Light interrupted again, turning the page on the document he was reading, “I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time.”

Trixie bristled. “Please, viceroy, please don’t make an entire – ”

“I approved the funds just a few hours ago, you see,” Night Light continued.

“ – town suffer for what…” Trixie’s words died in her throat. She blinked a few times, wondering if she’d heard Night Light correctly.

The viceroy turned the page on the document he was reading again. “The allocation will be in three parts over the next three weeks,” he continued. “The first payment will be reaching Ponyville by tomorrow at the latest.”

Trixie stared in disbelief. For several long minutes, the only sound was of the viceroy paging through whatever document he was reading. At length, he looked up at Trixie expectantly. The mare jumped slightly after a few moments. “Thank you,” she said softly, standing. “Thank-you, viceroy.” She picked up her hat with one hoof and set it on her head, turning and trotting to the door. She felt as though, one by one, bags of sand were being lifted off of her back. “I…I thought that you were doing this just because of what happened with – and I am sorry, I am so sorry – I was worried that you were making Ponyville suffer just because I was there – ”

“Oh,” Night Light said, turning a page, “I didn’t say that I wasn’t.”

Trixie froze. Her hoof had been about to push open the door, but at the viceroy’s words, she turned around. Night Light at last finished his document, picked up a quill, and signed it. He then looked Trixie in the eye.

Trixie blinked uncomprehendingly. “But…but if you’re doing that…then why…?”

Night Light tapped his two front hooves together. “Do you really think that the Princess would let a town suffer?” He asked. “I was never going to be able to deny funds to Ponyville entirely, or even for very long. To be perfectly frank, I’m surprised that I managed to do so for as long as I did. The Princess was quite incensed when she found out how I was dragging my hooves – I have never seen her so angry, though if what I hear is correct, you have.”

Trixie stared. Night Light stood, coming out from around his desk and trotting up to Trixie. “Now, Miss Lulamoon,” Night Light said, “I have to inform you that this, these few days of worry, are the absolute worst that I will ever be able to manage. And it cost me quite a bit of Her Majesty’s respect to achieve even that, and to be frank I feel dirtied for having stooped so low, tarnished my family’s good name so much. But make no mistake,” he was very close to Trixie now, their muzzles and horns practically touching, “I do not forgive you for what you did.”

Night Light lingered close to Trixie for several long moments, before drawing away. Trixie blinked rapidly. “But…” she said softly, “but…I’m sorry, I really am – ”

“Sorry does not bring my daughter back,” Night Light noted. “For all I know she is lying dead in a ditch somewhere. Do you have any idea what that is like, Representative? Can you possibly understand what that is like for me and my wife and my son? And besides,” he sat down behind his desk, glaring at Trixie. “I am afraid that I have been playing this game for far too long, and I know your history far too well. Your apologies are meaningless to me. You only – rightly – fear the consequences for having one of the viceroys of Equestria as your political enemy in the Night Court.”

“N-no!” Trixie exclaimed, stepping forward. “I really am! I mean it! How can I prove it?”

Night Light offered a grim, thin-lipped smile. Clearly, she'd asked the question that he wanted to hear. “Resign as a Representative of the Night Court.”

Trixie backed away as though she had been slapped. “What?” she demanded.

Night Light shook his head sadly. “As I said,” he said, “I have been playing this game of politics, of cloak and dagger, for far too long. Apart from finding my daughter yourself and convincing her to return, the only way you could possibly prove that your regret is not born from fear of political consequences, would be to remove yourself from politics entirely. Resign as a Representative, and never seek a title, and I will consider the matter closed and your words sincere.”

Trixie stared, wide-eyed. She’d only ever wanted to be one thing, at least since becoming Luna’s apprentice ten years ago: A noble in the Night Court. She had never really expected much – well, except in her greatest fantasies where she was made a vicereine and given a fifth of Equestria and all the wealth and power she could want. But those were just fantasies, and she knew it. She’d fully expected to have to start small – a barony, perhaps, maybe a viscounty if she was lucky. She’d make allies and deal with enemies, collect favors and have to pay out a few of her own, attend Galas and events and be a small celebrity. She’d have a minor title, a little land, a say in how Equestria was run, and become the founding member of the House Lulamoon…

…and Night Light wanted her to give all that up.

Night Light was staring at her reaction. “Or don’t,” he said. “In which case I shall obstruct every bill you put into the Night Court. Oppose every motion. I think you will find that if a viceroy wishes to lock a newcomer out of the system, then we succeed.”

Trixie shook her head slowly. “You’re…” she intoned. “You want me to give up everything I’ve ever wanted.”

The viceroy’s eyes narrowed. “You gave very little consideration to what my daughter wanted when she came to Ponyville.”

“We argued! That’s it! She’s the one who brought in a space bear! It’s not my fault!” Night Light only glared at Trixie. Trixie shook her head again. “You’re as bad as Fisher,” she said. “You’re as bad as Blueblood…as bad as Greengrass. You’re not supposed to do this!”

Night Light shrugged. “For a pony who wanted to be a part of the Night Court, you seem to have very little idea as to how it functions.”

How it functions. All at once, it felt as though she had been bucked in the face. Trixie stumbled backwards a few steps, staring at Night Light for a few moments more, before turning and running from his office, her mind whirling as she galloped blindly.

How the Night Court functions. Trixie realized that she had been wrong to think of Greengrass and his ilk as the corruption in the Court. To think that ponies like Blueblood and Fisher and Greengrass and even Night Light were her enemies, were her problem. They weren’t her enemies. They weren’t the problem. All they were was symptoms of the true problem. Her scale had been completely off.

Using spies against each other. Blackmailing and intimidating and bribing. Hiring thugs. Making entire towns suffer to threaten a single pony. All of it on such a large scale that it was accepted as a simple fact of existence, rather than a flaw that needed correcting. It was corrupt. It was rotting from the inside out. Innocent ponies were being caught in the crossfire of what amounted to a fractious crime ring, a slow game of gang warfare.

There weren’t problems with the Night Court.

The problem was the Night Court.

Trixie wasn’t looking where she was going. It was a miracle she hadn’t hit anypony before she did, and she had no idea where she was when she finally did barrel into a pony at full speed. She went stumbling backwards, her hat flying off her head, her cape falling over her eyes.

“Trixie?”

Trixie knew that voice. She lifted her cape from her eyes, and looked up. She found herself looking at two Night Guards, an earth pony and a unicorn, the latter one picking himself up and looking ready to arrest Trixie for assault before a midnight-blue hoof was placed on his withers. The hoof, of course, belonged to Princess Luna, who was staring down at Trixie with a look of worry on her face.

“Are you alright?” Luna asked, leaning down.

Trixie stared back. The past week flashed through her mind. The destruction of Ponyville. The torture she’d gone through yesterday and today just trying to see Night Light. The malign paradigm shift that was the revelation about the Night Court, even now fresh in her mind.

Trixie shook her head as she burst into tears.

6. Trixie and Luna

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Until three centuries ago, Luna’s chambers had been inaccessible except by either teleportation or flying in through the chambers’ window, though both actions were utterly impossible without Luna herself wishing it to be otherwise. However, her last majordomo, Quick Fix, had felt that this was an unforgiveable situation: despite there being numerous systems both mundane and magical to contact Luna in her chambers if need be, Quick Fix had felt that nothing could beat a good set of stairs.

To make his point, he had disabled all the systems, and then staged a false coup while Luna slept, declaring a state of emergency. With Luna out of contact, various fail-safe systems went into effect, including the sealing off of Canterlot, orders for the emergency conscription of a million ponies, and the existing troops sent to the borders with Zaldia, Pferdreich, the Griffin Kingdoms, and – due to a clerical error – Cavallia.

When Luna had awoken and discovered what was going on, she had fired Quick Fix, recalled the troops, fired Quick Fix again, cancelled the conscription orders, contacted the ambassadors for the nations she had appeared about to invade and apologized profusely, and fired Quick Fix a third time. When he had explained that his goal had simply been to prove how none of this could have happened if Luna had simply had stairs leading to her room with which to contact her, she had noted that simply suggesting that might have been enough, fired him a fourth time, abolished the position of majordomo, and then banished Quick Fix to serve a minor clerical position in the Equestrian embassy to the Griffin Kingdoms until he retired, at which point he was still forbidden to come within a hundred miles of the capital city.

There were numerous results of the false coup – known as the “Stairs Coup” – that persisted to the modern day. The Griffin Kingdoms continued to insist on a demilitarized zone between the Equestrian north and their south; Zaldia, despite being a pony nation, remained well outside Equestria’s sphere of influence; banished to the Griffin Kingdoms was still considered the ultimate political consequence for spectacular failure; Princess Cadenza of Cavallia still told the tale as an embarrassing joke, including to Trixie a few years back; and Princess Luna had installed stairs leading up to her chambers.

All this went through Trixie’s mind as she, head hanging and still choking back tears, realized that she was being carried up those stairs, to Luna’s room. The body beneath her was large and midnight blue and warm, with a heart that beat strongly enough for Trixie to hear it even over the wind of the night, the bustle of the castle, and the clip-clopping of the hooves belonging to the pony – the princess – carrying her up the stairs that spiraled along the outside of the tower, to Luna’s chambers.

Trixie stifled a slight giggle at the thought of the Stairs Coup, her mind grasping at any straw to relieve itself of the utter despair gripping her heart. It didn’t last – the despair came back as surely as the tide, only far quicker. She was only vaguely aware of the door to Luna’s chambers opening, and her being carried inside. A strong, yet soft, telekinetic field surrounded her, lifting her from Luna’s back and depositing her on the bed. Trixie wasted little time grasping at the nearest pillow and burying her face in it. She was aware of Luna sitting down next to her, laying a wing across her back and running one hoof through her mane gently.

Eventually, the tears began to subside, but it was still some time before Trixie glanced up. She’d been in Luna’s room before, of course. The greatest surprise to a pony who only knew Luna by reputation would probably have been how cluttered it was, a chaotic collection of trinkets and treasures, some mere curiosities, some unspeakably magical artifacts, some relatively new, some impossibly ancient, each of them in some way significant to the Princess. Luna couldn’t even claim that there was a method to the chaos – Trixie had herself seen her spend several minutes, or longer, trying to find something, having completely forgotten where’d she’d put it down last. The entire room was dimly lit, bright enough to see or read by, but only just barely, and the illumination was in blues and purples provided by glow-gems set into the ceiling.

Trixie slowly looked to Luna, who was looking at her with a soft smile, though the smile was obviously meant to be a reassuring put-on for Trixie’s benefit, and masked the worry she really felt. “Feeling a little better?” she asked.

Trixie nodded slightly. “Y-yeah,” she said, her voice a little ragged and a lump still in her throat. “A little…” Luna nodded, her horn glowing. A cloth appeared from thin air, and she passed it over to Trixie, who used it to rub her eyes. “Th-thanks…”

“Now,” Luna said, shifting slightly, but only to get more comfortable on her bed. Her wing squeezed Trixie tightly. “What happened?”

Trixie blinked a few times, turning the cloth that Luna had given her over in her hooves. “I…” she began, then stopped, looking to Luna. The Night Court was hers, technically. At least officially, the Night Court was nominally simply what Luna used to help facilitate running the country, all the nobles therein swearing to serve her. From a political standpoint, calling out the Night Court, calling it corrupt or base or horrible, as Trixie was beginning to realize the case, was essentially the same thing as calling Luna those things as well.

She looked away from Luna. “N…nothing,” she lied.

Luna was silent for several long moments. “Trixie,” she said softly. “You know that I don’t believe you when you say that.”

Trixie again glanced to Luna. “I…just had a bad day. A really bad day.”

“I’ve had those,” Luna noted. She considered. “Would this relate to the situation with Viceroy Night Light?”

“No.”

“…and are you lying again?”

Trixie didn’t respond, which was as good as an answer, she knew. Luna let out a sigh, looking away. “I know that you didn’t say those things in the paper,” she said. “Your strength of character has grown considerably since you first became a Representative to Ponyville. I am having an investigation conducted – ”

“It was Fisher,” Trixie blurted without meaning to. Luna looked at her curiously, and Trixie stared back. “Um…” she said. “I…I spoke with viceroy N…Night L-Light tonight, he said it was Archduke Bobbing Fisher.”

Luna frowned. “You spoke with Night Light?” she asked. Trixie nodded. Luna’s eyes glided over her face as she did, taking in every detail and factoring in the stutter that Trixie had displayed when mentioning the viceroy. “He’s the one who made you so distraught,” she surmised.

Nothing, it seemed, stayed secret from Luna for long. Before she knew it, she felt her mouth working, speaking of its own accord. “H…he…I came to Canterlot to try and convince him to send Ponyville money…o-or, I mean, the REMM – and between the newspaper and Greengrass and Blueblood and Fisher trying to stop me and Night Light’s stupid secretary losing my appointment I wasn’t able to s-see him until earlier tonight a-and I had to break into his office to do it, but he d-did see me and said that the guards weren’t necessary so I thought that was good, and I apologized to him f-for what I did to Twilight, I feel awful still, and I told him Ponyville needed the money and he said that he’d already approved it, and the first check sh-should be arriving tomorrow…”

Luna grimaced. “Yes,” she said. “Night Light was…dragging his hooves, I’m afraid. I think I’ve impressed upon him, however, that such abuses of his power – making a town suffer to just get to you – will not be tolerated.”

“B-but that’s the thing!” Trixie exclaimed hysterically. “That’s just it! He said that h-he knew he’d never get away with it, a-and yeah, he’s s-sent the money, but he’s gonna…he’s gonna dedicated everything to…to making sure I never get into the Night Court!”

Luna blinked a few times at that, before turning away and heaving a long sigh. “I see,” she said. “I had hoped that he was still salvable…”

Trixie looked away as well. “And I got to th-thinking,” she said, fresh tears coming to her eyes. “And…and I realized…all those stories? How everypony thinks that the Night Court is evil and just full of selfish ponies who only want to hurt each other? They’re right. M-me and my friends have been threatened and intimidated and we didn’t even do anything…a-and I ran into Duchess Fragrant, and she thought that I was trying to intimidate her family when I didn’t even know Fluttershy was a Posey…and I got to thinking, and I realized, I r-realized that I’ve been wrong. That the problems we’d been having weren’t Greengrass’ fault, th-that if it wasn’t him it’d just b-be somepony else…that the entire Night Court is the problem!”

Trixie flinched, expecting a rebuke from Luna. When it didn’t come, she looked back to Luna, who’s smile had dropped, and she was just looking at Trixie sadly. Trixie stared back. “W-well?” she demanded, sniffing and wiping her eyes again. “Th…this is where…Princess, you’re s…s-supposed to tell me that I’m wrong.”

Luna considered, visibly weighing her next words. “There are good ponies in the Night Court,” she said. “You mentioned Duchess Fragrant. There are others. But…the entire Night Court doesn’t need to be corrupted to create an atmosphere of fear and distrust. Not even most of it. Just enough, in the right places, cowing the rest into submission.”

Trixie blinked rapidly a few times as she took in Luna’s words. “Y…you knew…?” she asked.

Luna looked away. “Yes,” she said softly.

Trixie shot up and out from under Luna’s wing. “Wh-what?” she demanded as she stood, turning around. “How could you let this happen?”

Luna’s eyes met Trixie’s own. “Do you honestly believe that I let it?” she asked.

Trixie stared. “Well…” she said. “Then…then why aren’t you doing anything about it?”

“What makes you think that I am not?”

Trixie jabbed a hoof out Luna’s window. It happened to face in the rough direction of Ponyville. Her melancholy was being swiftly replaced by anger now. “Because of what just happened! In Ponyville! What’s been happening to my friends for the past half a year!”

Luna ruffled her wings. “This is a…period of transition, Trixie. It will be uncomfortable. Painful, even. But I promise you, Trixie, that I am trying to control the transition as much as I can, keep the fallout, the pain, to a minimum.”

Trixie stared. “What?” she demanded. “What are you talking about?”

Luna considered again. “A thousand years ago,” she said, “when the dust had finally settled from my sister’s – from Corona’s – rampage, when I had returned to Canterlot, it took me two decades to fully repair the damage to Equestria and turn it into a strong, growing nation again. When I once again convened the Night Court, it was full of noble ponies looking to put the past behind them, to move forward, to do what was right for Equestria. And they did. And so did their successors…most of them. Some of them were more concerned with their own petty gratification over the needs of the nation.” Luna looked to Trixie. “And the next generation barely remembered the time of Corona’s rampages. They had even less reason to care for the state over themselves. And so on…and so forth. Every few years the make-up of the Court grew a little worse, their morals a little more open to compromise.”

Luna shook her head. “And I tried, Trixie, to root out corruption wherever it was. And I succeeded, most of the time…but not all the time. And as more and more ponies and nobles in the Court grew complacent and decadent, I began to miss more and more, and the ponies of Equestria suffered. So, finally, four centuries after Corona – six hundred years ago - I decided that enough was enough. I instituted a series of large-scale investigations into the affairs of the nobles of the Court. I discovered that as many as half of the Court were involved in some kind of scandal or racket or otherwise abusing their position for their own gratification. Over the course of a decade, I exposed them, had them tried for the crimes, and dealt with them as appropriate for those crimes. Eventually I had purged the Night Court of all corruption, or close enough. New nobles were created or elevated and the Night Court was once again strong and true to the ideals of Equestria.”

Luna stopped, looking at Trixie expectantly. The blue unicorn stared back for several seconds. “But…” she ventured. “But it happened again.”

Luna grimaced even as she nodded. “And I tried, once more, to stop it on a case-by-case basis. And once again, some corruption would begin to slip through the cracks, and it built up – but this time, having the experience of the past to draw upon, I began the widespread investigations and purges sooner, recognizing what was happening and stepping in before the corruption spread too far. Roughly a third of the Night Court had to be purged – rather than half, as before. And the crimes committed were not as…debased…as the first time.”

Luna closed her eyes, casting her head down. “It is the nature of governments to go through this cycle of golden age, fall into decadence and corruption, purge themselves, and then rise once more. I try to make the transition as smooth as I can. But...but there will always be incidents that slip through the cracks, no matter how much I try.”

“Oh really?” Trixie demanded, the anger, the heat in her head and her throat and heart, wasn’t abating in the slightest at Luna’s explanation. “So that’s all this is to you? Just some cycle?”

Luna grimaced. “No,” she said, standing. “Trixie, this isn’t some kind of plan. I try to fight against ponies who abuse the system whenever I can. But there are limits, very strict limits, on what even I can and cannot do. Laws like right to privacy and innocent until proven guilty apply to the nobles just as much as to commoners. I need plausible evidence before I can ever intervene in any matter in a legal sense even on an individual level – let alone the evidence I require to launch an investigation of the entire Night Court.”

“But you’re the princess!” Trixie hissed, stomping closer to Luna. “You don’t need any kind of justification! That’s your Night Court! The nobility are supposed to be an extension of your will! What they’re doing reflects back on you!”

“So what you are suggesting,” Luna said, raising a hoof and pointing out her chambers’ window, “is that I should trot out there and begin rounding up ponies I suspect to be corrupt?”

“Yes!”

“And then charge them with the crimes I all but know they have committed, but for which I have no direct evidence?”

“Yes! Because you’re the princess! It’s your job to protect Ponyville from things like this, but right now you don’t seem to be doing all that much, and this…this cycle thing…!”

Luna’s grimace worsened. “Shall I pass judgment upon them too?” Luna asked, her horn glowing slightly. “After all, I am the highest authority in the land, on parchment anyway. Perhaps this should be true in reality as well? I am an alicorn, an immortal. For millennia have I looked upon the world and seen its course and learned good from evil, right from wrong. Who better to pass judgment than I?”

Trixie stared, Luna’s words cutting through Trixie slightly. “N…well, no, probably not…” she said. “I mean…just round them up, but send them to courts and give them trials…”

“Ah, but Trixie,” Luna said, beginning to pace slowly around Trixie, as her horn’s glow intensified somewhat. The color was beginning to bleed from her coat, making it increasingly darker, while her mane and tail were gradually flowing with more and more abandon, extending and curling like they had a will of their own – and was she getting taller? “Within the courts would not the nobles have a chance to fabricate evidence in their favor, to simply weasel out of any sentence and so continue to corrupt and debase my Night Court? We are speaking of the richest and most influential ponies in Equestria. No, it would be far better if I, in my immortal wisdom, were to pass judgment.”

Luna completed a circuit around Trixie, her pace quickening. By now her coat was more black than blue, and her mane and tail long and sinuous, curling around Trixie’s hooves as though wondering if they could grab her, while her regalia shifted to appear more like armor, including her crown. “Exiles and dungeons for the lot of them. But wherefore should I replace them? Wherefore should I allow the cycle to continue? I can do everything they can do, wouldst thou not agree? Wherefore should I leave it to them?”

Her second circuit complete, Luna’s eyes had changed, the irises expanding while the pupils had narrowed to dragon-like slits. “Mayhaps the Night Court be abolished altogether?” Luna asked, at last stopping her circling of Trixie. “Perhaps I should instead reign, as is my right, as no mere Princess. What sayest thee to that? Should I crown myself as Equestria’s unchallenged, uncompromised, undimmed Queen?” she punctuated the last with a stomp of her hoof, which caused her mane and tail to stutter and fully animate of their own accord, curling around the room in a great cloud that roiled with stars, and an open-mouthed grimace that showed rows of sharp, pointed teeth. She had become a dark twin to the Tyrant Sun, a black Queen of the Night.

But the look on her face was one that did not, in any way, match any that Trixie had seen Corona make – nor did it fit what Luna had just been saying. It was an expression of resigned sadness and melancholy, mixed almost with desperation. Trixie stared at Luna. “You’re not your sister,” she said.

The dark twin of Corona blinked, and all at once the illusions surrounding Luna collapsed into deep blue, starry smoke that was quickly pulled out the window and into the nighttime air. She let out a long, tired sigh. “But what you are suggesting,” Luna said, “is the path that lead Celestia to becoming Corona. And it is not merely one step on that path, but rather a headlong gallop down its length.”

Trixie blinked a few times. “But…why can’t you just fix it? Okay, I get it, there’s limits to what you can do…but even within those limits…”

“I try,” Luna said. “I really am trying, Trixie, I swear to you. Four hundred years ago, a town wronged by a noble pony would have no legal recourse beyond a direct appeal to the Crown. The elevation of all mayoral offices to Lordships and the appointment of the Representatives, by my decree, changed that. It was met with considerable resistance from the nobility, however.” She looked down. “Or, even as soon as two centuries ago, a pony who did not own land would have been a second-class citizen. That was not my doing, it was a pony named Brilliant Orange, but I made my support of the program of change publically known. Then there are the education programs to which the Crown donates hundreds of thousands of bits every year – nearly everypony in Equestria can read and write and receives a basic education as a result, something that would have been unheard of three centuries ago, something today taken for granted but which creates much more equality between the commoners and the nobility.

“I try, Trixie. I cannot claim to always get everything right…sometimes I wonder if indeed I can get anything right. But I am trying, as best I can.” Luna stared at Trixie. “You and your friends…you were caught in the crossfire, naked and nearly defenseless. For that, I can only offer my apologies, and a solemn promise that I shall take whatever steps I can to prevent it in the future.”

Trixie blinked a few times, wiping her eyes again. “It’s not right,” she said. “It’s not fair.”

“No, it is not.”

“Nopony else is playing by the rules…”

“But I must. Because I am the Princess.”

Trixie didn’t agree. Trixie was certain that there was something she could say, some argument she could make, that Luna wouldn’t be able to respond to, that would make her see that what she was doing was wrong, that the government in Equestria was wrong, that the whole thing should be swept aside and rebuilt from scratch from the ground-up. But she couldn’t summon up the will to think up that argument, and looking at Luna, all she saw was her mentor staring back, not willing to admit that Trixie was right any more than Trixie was willing to do the reverse – simply no longer wanting to fight.

Almost without realizing it, Trixie trotted forward, embracing Luna tightly, not wanting to fight either. Luna returned it eagerly, hooves and wings both holding her apprentice tightly.

“I will make sure that Night Light knows that his actions are reprehensible – that he will not be welcome in my presence if he cannot abandon this campaign of hate against you,” Luna promised Trixie. “And if…if this whole state of affairs has soured you to the thought of entering the Night Court, then whatever else you choose to make of your life, I will support that as well. It has been one of my greatest hopes that you could enter the Night Court and help me change it for the better – but over and above that, I want you to be happy. That will never change.”

Trixie smiled weakly as she withdrew from Luna, nodding. “Thanks,” she said. “I…I don’t know. I just…don’t know anything, right now…”

Luna offered a thin-lipped grin of her own at that. “Welcome to my life,” she said. She took in a breath, then exhaled a long, weary sigh. “Now, I have to go attend to my duties. And I am sorry, Trixie, but I remember what happened last time I left you in my room unsupervised.”

Trixie blushed slightly, vividly remembering her brief stint as the masked empress of the moon. She nodded as she followed Luna from her chambers, out the door and back to the stairs. Luna kept one eye on her as the two descended. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” she said.

Trixie nodded. She paused when the two reached the bottom of the stairs, however, the two of them standing in the vast Balcony Room that had a map of Equestria and its neighbors on its floor, and a ceiling that was a star chart made from precious gems.

An idea had occurred to her. It was a bad one.

“What if…” Trixie ventured anyway. “What if there was something I could do, to help this cycle thing?”

Luna blinked, giving Trixie a sidelong glance. “Trixie…” she warned.

“No, wait,” Trixie said, holding up her hooves. “Just…just hear this out…”

7. Back in Ponyville

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Making clouds the old-fashioned way was something that was still done in many smaller townships throughout Equestria, mostly the communities that didn’t center on farming. Ponyville did center on farming, however, and further was not small by any means, with the full expanse of the town and its environs taking up more than a sixth of the entire North Everfree province. Raindrops, and indeed the entire weather patrol, had been clocking a lot of overtime as a result of the need to make clouds without the benefit of Cloudsdale’s weather factory, and that was even with more a than a third of the town’s non-weather patrol pegasi volunteering to help.

It was a four-stage process being conducted at the Ponyville highland reservoir, which lay near the train tracks that connected Ponyville to the outside world. First, a team of pegasi would dive down into the reservoir, soaking themselves thoroughly before shooting hundreds of feet into the air. Their natural magic would seep from their feathers and hooves into the water droplets before they cascaded off of the pegasi. A second team waited below, flying in circles and beating their wings, sending the falling water droplets upwards whenever they tried to fall, until eventually the droplets dissolved into magic-charged vapor fog that would rise towards the sky. This vapor was collected by a third team of pegasi floating a thousand feet in the air, who used their hooves and wings to condense the fog into cumulus clouds, before passing them off to the final team of pegasi, who would cart the clouds off to the cloud silo in town, there to be stored until needed.

It was long, slow, trying job making even a single decently-sized cloud, let alone the hundreds the silo needed to be filled. The vapor-maker job was undoubtedly the worst, though, as it required constant flying, often upside-down in order to create the updrafts necessary to buoy the droplets as they fell from the diving team. It was also inefficient, as hundreds of drops of water would fall back into the reservoir anyway for every one that was successfully transformed into vapor. Raindrops – a vapor-maker along with most of the actual weather-patrol, leaving the easier jobs of diver and sculptor to the inexperienced volunteers – estimated that they were only making one cumulus cloud per hour, at best, and that was with dozens of pegasi working on diving, vapor-making, and cloud-sculpting each. Some part of Raindrops felt a sense of tribal pride stirring at doing things the old-fashioned way alongside her fellow pegasi, but for the most part she was just tired and really hoping that a goodly portion of what little emergency funds the town had would be used to acquire new clouds from Cloudsdale, the weather factory there able to churn out a half-dozen clouds in the same time with not nearly as much effort expended.

The whistle of a train coming in from Canterlot, the four-thirty, at last made a just-as-tired-looking Rainbow Dash – who had been moving between all three jobs, filling in where she was needed – call it a day for the weather patrol and volunteers. Almost as one, the pegasi let themselves fall to the ground, some – including Raindrops – going as far as to actually dive into the reservoir itself to cool off. By the time Raindrops emerged, setting down on the side of the reservoir, the train was steaming on by the reservoir. It looked surprisingly full – Ponyville hadn’t been visited very often over the past week, for the obvious reasons. This train, however, was literally crawling with ponies, several of them in uniforms standing atop an armored cart in the middle of the train, wearing official-looking uniforms and with sheathed but obvious weapons, mostly short truncheons, though there were also crossbows.

Raindrops frowned deeply at the sight – what now? What could possibly be happening to Ponyville now? Despite her aching wings, she took to the sky, along with many of the other pegasi, and followed the train from the reservoir into town, keeping a respectful distance from the armored car lest the guards with crossbows decide they might be needed. By the time the train pulled into the station, several pegasi had broken off from the team to spread the word, though as Raindrops alighted atop the train platform she found herself joined by a small crowd of other ponies that had seen the cloud of pegasi following the train into town and wanted to know what was going on.

As soon as the train came to a complete stop, the car immediately in front of the armored one opened, and Trixie – bedecked in her hat and cape, of course – trotted out. She waved to her friend, but took a few moments to say something in a low voice to the armored car’s guards before heading over to her. “I’m back,” Trixie announced, loudly so that the small crowd of ponies who had gathered at the train station, and the pegasi who were still in the air, could hear.

“You’ve brought friends,” Raindrops noted, eyeing the guards. They didn’t notice, working on undoing the locks of the armored car. “They look…unfriendly.”

Trixie’s smile widened a little. “Don’t worry, they’re just here to protect what’s in the car.”

“Why? What’s in there?”

Trixie’s smile grew several inches at that, as though Raindrops had asked just the right question, and the unicorn flourished one hoof. As if on cue – or, in all likelihood given that Trixie had been talking in hushed tones with the guards ahead of time, precisely on cue – two of the guards unclasped the door to the armored train cart and opened it, revealing several long, secure chests, each stamped with the seal of the Royal Bank of Equestria and the REMM.

Trixie’s smile grew even wider as one of the chests was brought out by ponies inside the car, who unlocked it with four different keys and opened it to reveal inside large, neat stacks of coins. “My dear Raindrops,” Trixie said, still loud enough so that everypony in the crowd could hear her, “one does not transport three hundred thousand silver bits without an escort.”

---

Once more, an impromptu town meeting was held in the farmer’s market, with Trixie and the rest of the town council on stage, and hundreds of Ponyvillians sitting before it. Unlike last time, however, there was not defeat and shock in the eyes of the assembled ponies. Instead, there was genuine hope, though it was hope that was being kept closely guarded lest it be snatched away from them.

“Now, even for the Night Court,” Trixie said to the gathered ponies, “just shy of nine hundred thousand bits is a lot of money to gather all at once. So, the REMM is giving Ponyville relief money in three parts – a shipment of three hundred thousand bits this week and next week, and then a week after that the remaining two-hundred eighty-five thousand. It’s all coming in cash and is being stored at the town hall. The Equestrian Royal Bank has insisted on keeping guards on it at all times, for the obvious reasons.”

“Cash?” Berry Punch asked, tapping her hooves together as she looked to Cheerilee. “Why cash?”

“It’ll make things easier for us,” Cheerilee pointed out. “Being able to offer real bits up front, bits straight from the bank, will probably get contractors in a bidding war for us…might make the repairs cheaper and faster.”

Berry Punch nodded at that in understanding. She stood up from where she had been sitting, raising a hoof, and received a nod from Trixie. “How’s the money going to be spent?” she asked. Cheerilee stood as well, though only to put a re-assuring hoof over her sister’s shoulder, as she too looked at Trixie.

Trixie winced, though only slightly. “That’s the…inconvenient part,” she admitted. “By law the money has to first go to ‘places vital to the governance and maintenance of Equestria.’ That means that we need to budget out how much money is going to the town hall, the courthouse, weather station, the post office and train station, all those places first. Once we have a budget hammered out – we don’t need to actually have fixed those places, just submit to the REMM how the money is going to be spent – then money can be handed out to private citizens, starting with the highest priorities and working downwards.”

Berry Punch shifted at that, and Cheerilee felt a pang of worry for her sister. Her livelihood was all but ruined, but she couldn’t honestly claim that a bar and soda shop could be considered a ‘high priority,’ not when she would be competing with apothecaries, farms, and grocery stores for relief money. Nearby, Cheerilee spotted Lyra giving Bon Bon a similar hug.

“How long will ‘working downwards’ take?” Cheerilee asked. There was a slight edge that she couldn’t keep from her voice, even though she knew for a fact that Trixie was only being a messenger here, and that this news was good news, just not as amazingly good as she wanted it to be.

Trixie’s smile returned a at the question. “I’ve spoken to the Princess,” she said. “On Monday, there’s going to be basically an army of accountants and claims experts coming to town. They’ll be conducting interviews and assessing the damages. The Princess wants this whole thing to be resolved as quickly as possible, so they’ll be working overtime and should be done by Wednesday at the latest. After that, they’ll start organizing priority and dolling out cash to private citizens by Friday, and from there it’s being left up to you how best to spend your relief money. Best guess is that by this time next week, even if everypony hasn’t received cash yet, they’ll at least have an idea of when it will arrive. And it definitely will be in your hooves no more than a day, maybe two, after the last shipment arrives.”

The crowd of ponies broke out into discussion at that, looking between each other, talking amongst themselves, wondering where their livelihoods would be placed on the ‘priority’ scale, and whether the Night Court, which had come close to abandoning them already, would be able to keep to the schedule that Trixie had promised. The conversations began to rise slightly in volume over the next minute, and Trixie’s smile dropped at the sound as her eyes darted across the crowd in worry.

“That’s great, though!” A voice called out, above the rest. Cheerilee looked, and saw Carrot Top making her way through the crowd, to the front of the stage. She looked dog-tired, had probably been working well past sunset and well before sunrise every day trying to fix her farm and start growing carrots again. As she climbed up onto the stage, however, her exhaustion was replaced by a look of determination. “This time a few days ago,” Carrot Top said once she was on stage and facing the Ponyvillians, “we didn’t think we had any money coming our way. Thanks to Trixie, we have every last bit we asked for from Canterlot coming!”

“I agree!” Cheerilee called out, as she made sure to give Berry Punch a re-assuring hug before joining Carrot Top and Trixie on the stage. “We all knew we’d have to be sticking together and helping each other out, right? We’re still doing that now – but now there’s an end in sight. A good end!”

“Why’d it take so long in the first place?” One pony, Flitter, called from the crowd. “I think that needs to be answered. Canterlot was going to abandon us! And what’s all this help gonna cost us?”

Carrot Top and Cheerilee both looked to Trixie at that, who was standing still, considering. “There are no strings attached,” she said at length, “no expectations apart from the ones I already mentioned. The money is Ponyville’s, every last jangle. But we can’t just have it in a pile for anypony to grab. It needs to be organized and hoofed out responsibly, and it’ll take a few days to figure out how to do that.”

The murmurs started up again at that, but this time everypony seemed to come into agreement that Trixie had a point. Ivory Scroll, who had been talking quietly with the rest of the town council, stood as the murmurs began dying down, and walked over to Trixie. “Representative Trixie, you’ll forgive us for being…guarded,” she said. “We’ve been to the sun and back over this past week, and I think we’re letting it show. The simple fact is, though, that two days ago, it had looked like Canterlot, the Night Court, and the Princess herself had abandoned us. Then you went to Canterlot, and have returned with everything we needed, everything we asked for. So, from the bottom of all our hearts, on behalf of all of Ponyville: thank-you, Representative.” Ivory Scroll bowed her head, even as the rest of the council stood from their table and did likewise.

Cheerilee looked back out to the crowd, who at last seemed to be taking in what Cheerilee and Carrot Top had said, that even if right now they were in the same spot, there was now a hope spot, a reason to think that Ponyville could make it through this bad time and become a flourishing town again. “You heard the mayor!” she said. “Come on, Trixie deserves at least one cheer! Hip-hip – ”

“Hooray!” About a third the ponies in the crowd called out disjointedly, not expecting the cheer. Somepony in the crowd must not have liked how empty is sounded, because a moment later there was another rallying call.

“Hip-hip – ”

“Hooray!”

“Hip-hip!”

“Hooray!”

The last was either everypony in the crowd, or so close as to be no difference. Following that came hoof-stomps, whistles, and other exultations, enough to rattle the earth and the makeshift stage that the town council and Trixie and her friends stood upon.

Cheerilee looked to Trixie, expecting to see her friend drinking in the cheers with a smug grin – that was how she usually took in applause whenever she put on a magic show, after all. Instead, however, Trixie was looking out at the crowd with something that resembled shock, her eyes wide and watery. Cheerilee and Carrot Top were both beside her in a moment, hooves on Trixie’s withers as the unicorn took off her wizard’s cap and used it to hide her face from the crowd. Despite her tears, though, she was smiling behind the hat.

“Trixie?” Cheerilee asked over the din. “Are you alright?”

Trixie nodded, closing her eyes and sniffing slightly. “I needed this,” she responded. “You have no idea…”

Trixie wiped her eyes, put her hat back on her head, and looked out at the crowd, a subtle shift coming over her features as she stepped forward and threw her hooves wide, horn glowing. From behind the stage, a series of illusory fireworks launched into the sky, exploding into a cacophony of colors and shapes and nearly deafening sounds. That only made the crowd cheer even louder. When the last firework went off, Trixie bowed deeply to Ponyville, and quietly – so quietly that even Cheerilee, who was only a few feet away, barely heard her – asked, “was there ever any doubt?” It wasn’t asked as a rhetorical, hubristic question, however – more like the mantra of a pony re-assuring herself that she was actually worth a damn.

Cheerilee trotted over to Trixie’s side, once more putting a hoof on her withers. “Never,” she assured her.

---

“You didn’t answer Flitter’s other question,” Lyra noted later, at Trixie’s home. Her living room was basically intact from the zebra-induced riot, at least structurally, with the window only having a few spiderweb cracks. More notable was the tears to all the furniture and the previously overturned bookcase, which Trixie had put all the books back into without organizing them (not that this actually changed much from the bookcase’s state before the riot). Lyra, Trixie, and their other friends were all gathered, eager to hear about what had happened in Canterlot.

Normally, Trixie would have been providing a wide assortment of beverages with various levels of alcohol in them for her friends to relax the remainder of the night with, but she was both out of said beverages, and neither Lyra nor anypony else in the room much felt like risking alcohol quite yet anyway. Instead, the gathered ponies stuck with glasses of water, not trusting the juice in Trixie’s icebox to have not been spiked at some point during the riot.

Trixie grimaced at Lyra’s point, looking down at her glass. “I know,” she said. “There were…problems.”

Lyra frowned at that, looking to everypony else first before pressing on. Carrot Top and Raindrops both looked like they were fighting the urge to just nod off, both exhausted from the work they’d had to do over the past few days. Cheerilee and Ditzy both looked frazzled, meanwhile; the former worried for her sister’s bar, and the latter worried about her own home. Money was usually tight enough for Ditzy under the best of circumstances; the gray pegasus was visibly thrilled to hear that their relief money would be coming after all. Lying on the most intact part of the nearest couch was Dinky, having arrived with her mother full of smiles and joy to see Trixie returned, but having then swiftly lost a battle with exhaustion from helping her mother clean up their home.

When Trixie didn’t elaborate other than to continue contemplating her glass, Lyra spoke up again. “Night Court problems?”

Trixie flinched at the question, looking to everypony else in the room. “Okay,” she said, “when I arrived two days ago, when I got off the train, I ran into a little welcoming committee..”

Trixie kept talking for some time after that – about how her every move through Canterlot was blocked by the manipulations and cronies of Blueblood, Greengrass, and Fisher – the last being a new name for Lyra, at least insofar as ‘Trixie’s political enemies’ were concerned – how she had finally resorted to breaking into Night Light’s office to talk to him; how he had outlined to her how he blamed her for his daughter’s disappearance and how he viewed Trixie as nothing more than another vainglorious, petty noble-in-training seeking to climb into the Night Court for her own gratification. She needed to pause a moment after relating his ultimatum for leaving her alone, and when she continued…

Lyra’s eyes grew steadily wider as she listened to Luna’s words through Trixie’s mouth, about the cycles of history that Luna saw, her knowledge of the corruption in the Night Court and her unwillingness to truly step up and change things. When Trixie had finished, she was once more visibly shaken, and Carrot Top was at her side immediately, a hoof on her withers to calm the unicorn.

“That’s…” Cheerilee said, keeping her voice down for Dinky’s sake, “that’s just irresponsible of Luna.”

“I don’t think so,” Lyra said, tapping a hoof to her mouth as she thought over her history which, as a bard, she was quite well-versed in. “I mean…well, Luna has a point with that whole history thing. Nations do go through cycles like that. Either that or some outside power strikes them down when they’re weak. Equestria’s an exception, especially considering how old it is…and maybe it’s an exception because of what the Princess does.”

“Which is the bare minimum that she can?” Raindrops countered, also struggling to keep her voice down. “There’s following the law and then there’s hiding behind it. I know there’s more she can do, can legally do. She’s the Princess! If she honestly thinks that this noble or that noble is corrupt, she could call them out in the Night Court, or something. What’s she so afraid of?”

Lyra saw Ditzy blink a few times at that, as the pegasus looked down to her sleeping daughter. “Plenty,” she said, as she draped a wing over Dinky. One of Ditzy’s eyes looked out to her friends. “I think…I think the Princess is always afraid. At least since Corona.” She gently squeezed Dinky with one wing, and the filly shifted a little, leaning closer to her mother in her sleep. “She’s got tons to be afraid of…”

Trixie nodded. “That’s the impression I got. And I guess I can understand why…but she’s taken it too far. Sometimes Luna has to get personally involved in things, actually use her power. That wouldn’t make her a tyrant.” Trixie looked to each of her friends, a look of determination overcoming her features. “And the Night Court? I think it needs a good, solid buck in the flank.”

Lyra raised one eyebrow as she looked at Trixie. “Uh-oh…” she intoned. “I know that look. That’s your 'I have a plan' look.”

Trixie nodded as she looked between her friends. “Yeah. I do. And part of it Luna knows about already, she’s approved of it and is helping me with it.” She took off her hat, placed it on the floor brim-down, and mumbled a few magic words. A moment later, she pulled her hat off the floor, and dozens – scores, even – of deep blue envelopes poured out from the hat.

The other five ponies in the room stared at the envelopes. They looked very familiar – identical, in fact, to a sextet of envelopes each of them had received a few months ago. “Are those…?” Cheerilee asked.

Trixie nodded. “Grand Galloping Gala tickets,” she confirmed, as her horn glowed and she began organizing the envelopes into neat stacks. “A hundred of them. Eight of them are for the town council. Luna wants to personally apologize to them at the Gala and work out any kind of help she can. But as for the rest…” Trixie considered for a few moments before shrugging. “I was thinking some kind of raffle, tomorrow morning.”

Lyra picked up a few envelopes herself, looking them over. “The Princess just added another hundred guests to the Gala? Just like that?”

Trixie shrugged again. “Every member of the Night Court receives an invitation and a plus-one, plus all sorts of other VIPs and their plus-ones. There’s already going to be something like seven hundred ponies; adding on two hundred or so more isn’t that hard, especially since Luna can just relax the dress code and throw as many bits as she wants to catering services in Canterlot to supply more food and drink. The only real change is the venue; it’s going to be moved to the courtyard rather than the grand hall.” Trixie offered a grin. “Luna is planning to say something about how Canterlot should have acted much faster to help Ponyville, that the ponies have all been invited as her personal guests as part of an apology to Ponyville, basically she’s going to try and make the nobles feel ashamed.”

Raindrops considered. “Okay…” she said. “Good plan, I guess. But you said that this is the part that Luna knows about already. So I’m guessing that you’ve got something else planned, too.”

Trixie grimaced at that, her grin dropping. “Yeah,” she said. “Like I said…the Night Court is rotten, and we need to expose that, expose Greengrass and Blueblood and Fisher and Night Light. So…so I’ve got another plan, too, and I’ll need your help to pull it off, and some help from some other ponies I trust…and one or two that I don’t trust at all.”

Trixie tapped her hooves together. “It’ll be illegal. But these attacks against us – trying to separate us, pull us apart, move us around, threaten our livelihoods, all this junk that’s happened to us since we became the Elements, and now using an entire town as a pressure point, letting hundreds of ponies suffer just to get at one mare…it needs to stop, and it’s only going to stop if Luna ponies up…and if the Night Court realizes that we aren’t just pieces to be moved around on a board. That we’re our own ponies. That we can strike back.

“Like I said, it’ll be illegal. Very illegal. But I think we’ll be doing something that’s, on paper, wrong, so that we can do something that we know is morally right. But I’m not going to try and sell this, or play it up, or argue for it. If even one of you is against it, then we won’t do it, and just hope for the best.”

Trixie paused for another moment, before beginning to talk again, outlining her plan. She didn’t pretty it up for them, just stated everything she intended to do, and planned to have them do, who would be involved, and what she hoped would be the result. And she was right: it was certainly illegal. Indeed, it bordered on outright treason.

But in the end, wasn’t everything the Night Court had been doing the same? Lyra thought to her own brushes with it. Greengrass had tried to use her mentor, Octavia, to manipulate her away from Ponyville, to drive a wedge between her and Trixie…and then later, he had tried to get Octavia banished far away, tried to manipulate Luna herself into doing his own dirty work. And Octavia had been attacked by thugs from another Night Court noble as well, even if there was no solid proof linking that…

There was long silence after Trixie finished talking, as everypony thought over her plan. “I’m in,” Lyra said at length, the first to speak up. “The Night Court needs to be bucked in the flank, so that it can’t hurt anypony anymore.”

“Me too,” Carrot Top said. “Ponyville can’t get caught up like this again. It’s not fair to us, to hit us while we're down the way the Night Court did.”

“That was just one pony,” Raindrops pointed out after a moment, crossing her hooves in front of her. “But…but that one pony was one of the most powerful in Equestria, and he nearly got away with it. Yeah…yeah. I’m in too.”

Cheerilee sighed. “I wish we didn’t have to,” she said. “But I’m in too…but not because of what’s already happened. That’s bad, and I know it’s bad…but even worse is that Corona is out there, somewhere. We can’t wait years and years for Luna to fix everything like she plans to…we need to kick her into gear, or else Corona’s going to come knocking at the worst time, and then everypony suffers.”

Ditzy considered, once again squeezing Dinky close. “How long until Dinky becomes a target?” she asked softly. “Somepony already tried to kidnap her once…yeah, the Night Court wasn’t really involved in that, but how long until some noble gets impatient? Gets stupid? Doesn’t care about hurting her, or any of you…” at length, Ditzy nodded. “Okay. I’ll help.”

Trixie nodded herself. “Okay,” she said. “Okay…zut. I was actually kind of hoping you’d back out.”

“What?” Lyra asked. “Why?”

Trixie grimaced. “Because now I have to go and do something I’ve been avoiding for years…”

---

It was the day of the Gala, about 1:30 PM, and a certain viscount in Canterlot had only just finished his breakfast and was getting ready to perform a few quick duties before beginning his final preparations for his attendance at the Gala, when he was interrupted by a page announcing that he had a visitor. Scowling, the viscount left his office, and found himself looking at a blue unicorn with a silver mane, wearing a star-studded, purple wizard’s cape and hat. When he entered, the unicorn took off her hat, holding it in her hooves, and swallowed, before looking him in the eye.

“Viscount Prince Blueblood,” Trixie said, “would you like to accompany me to the Grand Galloping Gala?”

8. Zizanie Again

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Prince Blueblood knew that he was not considered to be one of the brightest members of the Night Court. He knew, too – in his most private and weakest of movements – that he could sometimes be a bit of a fop and an idiot, that key details could slip under his muzzle. Indeed, even when he had all the right information in front of him, he could still make mistakes.

His special talent was direction, namely, making the correct choices about where to go, and not simply on street corners. Unfortunately, in the muddled world of the Night Court, even a pony with a special talent of making the correct choices could be stymied, as he had indeed been following his elevation from baron to viscount. Specifically, just because one knew the correct choices to make in the short-term didn’t mean that one knew the long-term consequences. Further – he had to admit to himself – he could be persuaded to make choices that he didn’t think were in his own best interest, if the immediate payoff was good enough. In short, he’d been ignoring his special talent for the past few months, and that had nearly cost him dearly – and as a result, he was biting down on the bit and paying attention to it more.

Even if he hadn’t resolved to do such, however, looking at Trixie Lulamoon, his gut instincts, his experience as a courtier, and just plain common sense, were all screaming the same thing at him: this is a trap, you fool. Send her away before you’re caught in it.

…but then again…

“I see,” Blueblood said. He glanced around. While the rank of viscounty was the second-lowest in the Night Court – well, technically third-lowest, but nopony counted baronets, not even the baronets themselves – he had managed to secure a rather expansive office and apartments within Canterlot Castle, nearly as large as those typically awarded to dukes. At present, he was standing in the waiting room before his office proper, and alongside Trixie there was also some of his staff whom were pointedly staring at their work and neither Trixie nor Blueblood, and certainly weren’t paying close attention…

Blueblood waved his hooves at his staff. “Leave. Come back in an hour,” he ordered. Several looked disappointed on not being able to eavesdrop on the conversation, but all of Blueblood’s staff nevertheless stood and trotted out the front door. Once they had left the room, Blueblood turned and trotted back into his office, Trixie following him. Once inside, he looked again to Trixie. “What makes you think that I would want to go to the Gala with you?” he asked.

“The fact that you’ve asked me six years in a row,” she answered without hesitation

“And suppose I already have somepony I’m going with?” Blueblood stood up straight, running a hoof on his shirt as he offered a grin. “In fact, I all but have free pick from the herd. There are dozens – hundreds – of ponies who would do anything to spend a night with me, you know, and this is quite last minute of you. What if I already have a companion?”

Trixie shivered slightly as some thought passed through her mind. Blueblood frowned at that. He was a fine example of stallion physique and had three front covers of EToday proclaiming such to prove it. Mares throughout Equestria got weak knees and hocks at the sight of his illustrious person. No small number of stallions, as well.

At length, Trixie gathered herself and met Blueblood in the eye again. “Do you have one?” she asked.

Blueblood offered a smirk. “No. Oh, I know of several ponies planning to try and vie for my affections at the Gala – ” this was in fact true, despite Trixie rolling her eyes – “but no set plans, as luck would have it. But what makes you think I would even want to go to the Gala with you now?”

“You’ve been trying for years,” Trixie pointed out. “Though let’s be honest, you were just trying to get closer to Luna through me.”

Blueblood’s eyes narrowed at that, as he decided he’d pranced around the issue long enough. “You’re not here because you’ve had a change of heart, Miss Lulamoon,” he said as he scratched an errant itch on his cutie mark. “You want something from the Night Court, and as you have no land, no money, no favors or connections, no power, you’re using the one small, sad thing you could possibly offer me as a bargaining chip.”

Trixie didn’t seem surprised that Blueblood had figured her out, nor did she react to his belittling her. “What do you know,” she asked instead, “about a unicorn named Zizanie?”

Blueblood paused a moment, feigning thinking about the name. “Nothing,” he lied. Inwardly, he felt more than a little panic. He had hired Zizanie on many occasions – was in some ways her best customer, or at least her most constant, ever since he had ascended to the viscounty. However, their working relationship had gotten off to a rocky start – thanks in no small part to Trixie, whom Zizanie had been attempting to gather blackmail material on for Blueblood. It hadn’t worked, but Trixie had never learned that Blueblood was the one who had hired Zizanie.

Or had she?

Trixie studied his features for several long moments. “Okay,” she said. “I’m going to make this as plain as possible. I’m sick and tired of the Night Court, sick and tired of my friends and my town being hurt. And at the center of all of that has been you and Greengrass and who knows how many other ponies, all because we’re the Elements of Harmony.”

Trixie put her hat back on her head. “I want Greengrass out of my mane, out of everypony’s mane, and I think that Zizanie can help,” she said. “And I think you know her, or know somepony who knows her, because that’s how the Night Court works, right? So that’s what the deal is. Get me in contact with Zizanie, today, and I’ll go to the Gala with you. And…well, I’ll owe you one.”

Blueblood’s smirk slowly returned. “I see,” he said. “I assume that this favor you’d owe me would come with the usual provisos…nothing you find offensive, and so on.”

“Yeah.”

Blueblood thought. Trixie was up to something – never a good sign. The last time she had been up to something, several thousand gallons of ice-cold water had created a second, if temporary, waterfall over the edge of the cliff that Canterlot sat upon. But, on the other hoof, there was no denying that this Trixie was…different…from the vainglorious, egotistical student of Luna that she had been six months ago. She still had those qualities, but they were tempered now…and she was eager to begin flexing her muscles in the Night Court, dip her hooves in and start her climb through its halls.

Blueblood considered that perhaps he should change his priorities: rather than trying to gain political control over Trixie Lulamoon, Element of Magic, he should instead perhaps be playing the role of patron to Trixie Lulamoon, nascent member of the Night Court. Less fame…but another ally in the Court, even one junior to himself, could never hurt.

And as to her specific plan…whatever it was, it involved ousting Greengrass. Getting rid of that slime was very high on Blueblood’s list of things-to-do. Or she might fail…but that would still leave her in Blueblood’s debt. He could see only marginal risk, and every possibility of some sort of reward, if he went in this direction.

This was his opportunity, what he had been waiting for to unseat Greengrass and make the path from viscount to full count that much easier, and he was going to seize it. Blueblood stepped forward. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll get you in contact with Zizanie, but I expect you to meet me, here, to go to the Gala for eight. And you shall owe me further. Agreed?”

Trixie nodded, holding out one hoof. Blueblood touched his own to hers, sealing the deal.

---

3:00. Cliffside Hangar. Come alone.

– Z.

Raindrops looked down at note again. “You’re kind of not alone, Trixie,” she pointed out as she, Trixie, and Carrot Top trotted through Canterlot, towards the Cliffside Hangar. What ‘cliffside’ meant was easy enough to figure out, since Canterlot was built alongside a cliff face, but neither she, nor Trixie, nor Carrot Top had ever heard of a ‘hangar’ before.

Trixie looked to Raindrops. “Zizanie’s crazy if she thinks that I’ll actually come alone.”

“And I wouldn’t let you,” Carrot Top said firmly. Ditzy, Cheerilee, and Lyra were all getting their manes styled, their coats brushed, and just generally readying themselves for the Gala. Trixie needed to meet with Zizanie, however, while Raindrops looked better with a somewhat-messy anyway, even for so formal an event, and Carrot Top was quite adept at quickly styling her mane, the money she spent on keeping it in good condition being her one true vice. “Worst comes to worst,” Carrot Top continued, “she doesn’t show up, and the plan’s cancelled.” She looked to Trixie. “Right?”

“Plan doesn’t work without her,” Trixie confirmed as the three ponies reached the edge of the cliff that Canterlot sat upon. It was guarded by a tall, sturdy wall to prevent ponies who couldn’t fly from accidentally tumbling over the side, but the wall opened up at several points to stairs that lead down along the cliff face, to a select few structures built into the side of the cliff itself. Trixie had been to several, most notably a restaurant set right behind the Canterlot waterfall. However, they were fairly far from that location – instead, the directions they had acquired to the Cliffside Hangar were taking them down the northern slope of the wall (Carrot Top hugging the cliff wall tightly and looking very grateful for the rail set into the stairs), down hundreds of feet before finally leading the trio to a set of doors labeled “Cliffside Hangar” and a guard shack. The guard shack, however, was empty, and the doors were slightly ajar.

“Creepy,” Raindrops noted, as the three made their way forward and through the doors. There was a twenty-foot corridor leading to another set of doors, and on the other side, Raindrops, Trixie, and Carrot Top encountered the offspring of a balloon and a whale.

Raindrops blinked. The three found themselves standing atop a long catwalk inside a cavernous chamber. One end of the chamber had the cavern wide-open, revealing the wide open plains of Equestria beyond, while most of the interior was hewn from rock, with crystals along its length, crystals that had been enchanted to glow brightly, illuminating the…thing that sat, or hovered, in front of them. It was more than a hundred feet from end to end, a long tube of fabric over what looked like some kind of skeleton that tapered off to a point at either end. The rear – Raindrops assumed it was the rear, anyway, as it was located at the rear of the chamber – had what looked like a ship’s rudder, except there were four of them, one on the bottom, one on the top, one let, and one right. The entire ship was silver, though towards the front it looked like somepony had begun to paint it in blues and purples, but hadn’t finished yet. Attached to the underside of the tube, meanwhile, was some kind of cabin or gondola, constructed of metal and glass, though she couldn’t see inside. At the rear of the gondola, and in a ring around the middle of the tube, were propellers. The catwalk that the three were standing on led to the gondola’s main door.

But that was not what struck Raindrops as odd. What got to her was that the thing was hovering, held in place only by tethers attached to the chamber floor and swaying to and fro slightly. Yet Raindrops could see no wings, no flame for hot air, no telltale glow for telekinetic magic (though what unicorn could possibly have the magic to lift this thing?)…it just floated, defying all reason and sanity while doing so.

“It’s called,” a voice said from somewhere in the chamber, “An airship.”

Raindrops’ wings raised in challenge at the voice, as she, Carrot Top, and Trixie looked around. Trixie’s eyes narrowed. “Zizanie,” she informed the other two, who had not yet met the professional blackmailer.

“It’s really quite amazing,” Zizanie continued, from wherever she was hiding. “The balloon is made of cotton. Inside there’s a light metal skeleton – I forget what kind of metal – and rubberized cotton gas bags filled with helium. It can lift more than fifty hot-air balloons could, and can travel faster and further. It’ll cut the cost of importing stuff up to the pegasus cloud cities by a factor of ten, at least, and let earth ponies and unicorns fly across the country without needing expensive spells.”

The door to the gondola opened, and standing inside, wearing a dark cloak with its hood down, was a white unicorn with a purple mane – Zizanie, Raindrops presumed. The unicorn trotted out from the gondola, stopping about halfway towards the three of them to turn around and look up at the ‘airship.’ “I’m going to be honest, I think I’ve fallen in love. I was hired to sabotage this thing by certain interests who don’t want the cost of surface-to-air imports to plummet, and I have, but I think after it fails to launch I’ll swoop in and rescue to the company from bankruptcy. Gotta put all those bits I’m paid to use, right? I want to see this thing fly.”

Zizanie turned back around, looking at Raindrops, then Carrot Top, then lastly Trixie. “So…you were supposed to come alone,” she pointed out.

Trixie blinked a few times, tearing her eyes from the airship and focusing on Zizanie. “I didn’t,” she said instead. “Is that a problem?”

Zizanie stared at Trixie for a few moments, then shrugged. “Not really. You can’t afford to meet my price no matter what you’ve got planned. I’m only meeting with you at all ‘cause Blueblood shelled out some bits to make me.” She smirked. “I think that was very nice of him. You’ll make a cute couple. Think you could name one of the foals Zizanie?”

Trixie sputtered at that, stepping back several paces at Zizanie’s implication. The white unicorn’s smirk grew, though at the sight of that Raindrops snorted, and she stepped forward. “Don’t,” she warned.

“You should at least hear us out,” Carrot Top interjected, before Zizanie could bait Raindrops, an action she would most likely regret.

Zizanie sat back on her haunches, horn glowing lightly. A pocket watch was lifted out from her cape, and she considered its face. “Alright, you’ve got one minute to wow me,” she said.

Trixie had recovered from the bleak thoughts Zizanie had implanted in her mind of her carrying Blueblood’s foals. She looked the white unicorn in the eye. “I want to use a truth poison on the Night Court so that I can blackmail them into leaving me and my friends alone.”

Zizanie blinked a few times, and she put away her pocket watch. “That has wowed me. With stupidity, mind, but wowed me nonetheless.” She waved her two front hooves. “Continue.”

Trixie reached into the folds of her own cloak, producing a vial of greenish liquid, which she floated over to Zizanie, who took it into her own telekinetic grip. “That’s called Truth is a Scourge,” Trixie said. “It’s a zebra truth poison. Give somepony a few drops, and they can only speak the truth…and have to speak. Even worse, they say exactly what they think, the moment they think it.” Trixie tapped her hooves together. “I’ve modified it a little so that it doesn’t go into effect immediately, it can be activated as long as it’s in the drinker’s system. And it can turn it off, too. I’ll show you how to do that.”

“Neat,” Zizanie observed, considering the vial. “And it works?”

“Drink it and find out,” Raindrops challenged.

Zizanie smiled. “I don’t think so. But I think I’ll hold onto it and test it later.” She looked to Trixie. “How do you turn it on and off?” she asked, horn glowing slightly as she got ready to observe

Trixie demonstrated how to do so – it was just sending a tiny bit of magic into the potion, not even a true spell. Zizanie was able to duplicate it in just a few minutes. “So assuming it really does work,” Zizanie continued, “how would this go down?”

Trixie tapped her hooves together. This, Raindrops knew, was the hardest part of the plan, requiring a careful balance of truth and lies told to a pony who dealt in lies as a basic part of her profession. “I said the Night Court,” Trixie said, “but really I’m just talking about a few ponies at first. Duke Greengrass, Archduke Fisher, Viceroy Night Light, and Blueblood.”

Zizanie’s eyes widened a little. “Oh my,” she said. “Betrayal already? You’re taking to the Night Court like a fish to water.”

Trixie ignored Zizanie. “I want to get more, though. I want to get everypony on the Night Court who’s done wrong…who’s likely to just step in and take the place of Greengrass once he’s been embarrassed. So that’s the first part of where you come in: I’ll need a list of ponies like that. I’m sure you can think them up.”

“And the second part?” Zizanie asked.

Trixie looked to Raindrops and Carrot Top, both of whom grimaced. “I don’t want to just spike a punch bowl,” she said. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the venue’s changed at the Gala at the last minute, and there's a bunch of Ponyvillians coming. There’s going to be a lot of innocent ponies there. So me and my friends are going to be going around, getting drops of Truth is a Scourge into the drinks of everypony we want to target. Then I’ll activate it…and from then, until I end the spell, I want you to go around to as many ponies as you can, in disguise, and just start collecting blackmail information.”

Zizanie thought, her smirk dropping at last as she considered. “First point,” she said. “Why all this? In my line of work it pays to have some information on each client I take, just in case. An insurance policy, basically. So why not try and just get that from me?”

Trixie shook her head. “Because all that information you have is useless if somepony else has it and plans on using it – blackmail only works if the victim isn’t exposed. This way, the ponies I’ll be blackmailing will know that it was because of something that they let slip at the Gala and won’t suspect you. They’ll know I'm the one who embarassed them at the Gala, I can ruin them forever, and they’ll also have an example of what I can do to them if they don’t leave us alone.”

“Ah,” Zizanie said, nodding. “You’re sending a message. Fair enough, but that leads to my second point: how are you paying me?”

Trixie shifted, as did Carrot Top and Raindrops. This was the other vulnerable point of the plan. “In cash silver,” Carrot Top answered for Trixie. “How does a hundred thousand bits sound?”

Zizanie stared, her face incredulous. “It sounds like a vicious lie,” she answered. “I don’t recall any of you Elements being made mention of as millionaires, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t think you could manage that.”

Raindrops sighed. She hated this part of the plan, but she had to try and sell the lie, which she couldn’t do if she let Trixie do all the talking. “It’s real,” she said. “The REMM is sending cash to Ponyville to pay our relief. It’d be pretty easy for us to get access to it.”

Zizanie blanched. “You’re stealing your own relief money?” she asked. Apparently even she thought that was low.

Trixie shook her head. “Borrowing it. Once we get the blackmail information, we could extort it back easily.”

“But at the moment, barring your robbery, you don’t actually have access to it.”

Trixie nodded. “If you help us,” Trixie said, “I wouldn’t expect you to give us any of the blackmail information you get until we actually paid you. That’s fair. And, you’d have your own blackmail information on us as insurance – the fact that we set everything up to begin with.”

Zizanie considered, both her hooves pressed together in front of her, weighing her options. For several long minutes, there was no sound at all within the vast chamber that held the airship, apart from Trixie shifting occasionally from hoof to hoof, Carrot Top humming slightly to keep calm, and Raindrops shifting her wings.

Eventually, Zizanie looked back to them, and held up her vial of Truth is a Scourge. “If this works when I test it,” she said, “and if you show me how to make it afterwards…then alright, Lulamoon. You’ve got a deal.”

9. At the Gala

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This being the middle of summer, or close enough in any event, the sun was still hanging in the sky as Princess Luna entered Canterlot Castle’s great, wide courtyard. It was dipping notably towards the horizon, of course, but it was still there, bathing the land in orange and red, as Luna separated herself from her Night Guards, leaving them at the courtyard’s edge. The courtyard was empty of ponies, and several statues and benches had been moved off to the side and out of the way as well to make room.

Luna fluttered her wings a few times, stretching them, as she closed her eyes and trotted towards the courtyard’s center. In the most technical of senses, she was about to cast a spell, using her horn as a focus, as a unicorn might – but this was so very far beyond what any unicorn could achieve, at least in the short time frame that she was working with. As she came to a stop in the center of the courtyard, her entire body glowed with deep blue magic, coursing along her hooves and wings, and up through her horn.

The Grand Galloping Gala was one of the most prestigious events in all of Equestria, and an ancient one, dating back to a time of gathering the three pony tribes together, encouraging mixing and coexistence. It was normally held in the Grand Hall, but with the addition of some one to two hundred guests – depending on how many of the invited Ponyvillians came, and took advantage of their plus-ones – the Grand Hall, already usually very full, would simply not suffice in this instance. The courtyard was the only location in Canterlot Castle large enough for such a gathering. Now, Luna had to make it look the part.

Luna finished gathering her magical might, exhaled, and cast her spell. A few minute later, and the courtyard was ready. She trotted away from her work, joining her Night Guard, who themselves had just finished acknowledging the arrival of her captain of the guard, Shining Armor.

“Good evening, captain,” Luna said after he had finished bowing to her. “Your final report?”

Shining Armor looked past the Princess, to the result of her spell. “Security will be…difficult, but I’m confident that my ponies can exceed expectations,” he said.

“Let’s just hope that this one lasts a bit longer,” Luna said, a trace of guilty mirth in her voice.

Shining Armor shifted slightly. “I certainly hope so, Majesty…though, on that note, I actually just saw your student, Miss Lulamoon.”

Luna’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh?” she asked.

“Yes. She had some…interesting…things to say…”

---

“Why aren’t you ready yet?” Blueblood demanded as he knocked on the door to the salon. He had waited at his office for half an hour before one of Trixie’s acquaintances – the pegasus, something Doo, or Doo something, Blueblood couldn’t remember much other than being unnerved by her walled eyes – had flown over to inform him that she was running late on preparing, and he’d have to meet her at the salon.

“Because I’m – gah ow Carrot Top careful! – not exactly used to wearing dresses!” Trixie called from the other side of the door. “And this thing – ow! Ow!”

“Oh, pipe down!” Another mare’s voice – presumably Carrot Top’s – said from the room. “It’s supposed to be tight!”

“Can’t…breathe…”

“Uh,” a third voice said from the other side. “Carrot Top, she’s turning blue.”

“She is blue.”

“Yeah, but…more blue…now a little purple…”

“Hmm…good point, hang on…”

Blueblood put a hoof to his face, sighing as he turned around. There were three other mares – the Doo something or other, another pegasus by the name of Raindrops, and an earth pony, Cheerilee. Blueblood had to admit that, even considering that they were commoners, the three looked absolutely stunning, their manes expertly styled by the salon’s staff, and their dresses each perfectly complimenting their coats, eyes, and builds, even including small touches that suggested their cutie marks. In addition to the mares, there was a small, gray unicorn filly, probably the gray pegasus’ little sister, Blueblood imagined. As she was a foal, her outfit was a very simple dress and skirt – even the most wealthy of nobles usually didn’t spend much money on clothes for foals, since they grew out of them quickly and clothing was usually reserved for special occasions only.

Most importantly, to Blueblood, anyway, the viscount noted that the three of them were having a hard time keeping their eyes off of him. His strict morning regimen and diet for the past month leading up to the gala had clearly worked out in his favor, not to mention the small army of mane stylists, horn filers, and other experts he employed to keep him looking his best at all times, and even better on important nights like tonight.

Blueblood flashed the jasmine pegasus a smile. He noted a slight twitch to her wings at it, though she looked otherwise like she was trying very hard to not let him know that she had been staring. Blueblood smirked to himself as he turned back to the door. He had no serious chance with Trixie, he knew. Perhaps her friends were not quite so standoffish, however. He had all night to find out.

“Hate corsets…” A hiss came out from behind the door. “Hate them sooo much…”

Blueblood groaned as he checked his pocket watch. It read 7:35. The salon happened to be close to the castle, so they could still make it to the opening ceremony if they left right now. “How much longer?” Blueblood demanded again.

“Just a minute!” A forth voice said from behind the door. “Honestly, Trixie, you’ve only been to five of these in the past, I don’t see how you couldn’t know how to put on a dress.”

“I didn’t wear dresses to them.”

“Please do not remind me,” Blueblood said, sighing. In response, there was a flash of blue light from behind the door – and standing before Blueblood suddenly was Trixie, bedecked in a purple and gold jacket with a frilled neckline and sleeves, a deep, deep blue, frilled undershirt, a short purple cape, and a purple top-hat. In short, she looked like a magician at some stage show in Las Pegasus, not somepony who had been personally tutored by the Princess.

Blueblood stared at the illusory Trixie – for of course that’s what it was – and sighed, covering his eyes with his hooves. “Trixie, I beg of you, please tell me you’re not wearing anything that remotely resembles that this year…”

“Well, it is purple,” Trixie said, as the illusion disappeared. After a moment, the door to the back of the salon finally opened. Inside were four mares – Lyra Heartstrings was one that Blueblood already knew, of course, though he kept that fact to himself. She wore a gown that looked like an old Roam stola and toga ensemble, white and gold with a golden wreath atop her head. Standing close to her was a cream earth pony, bedecked in her own gown of dark blue and pink, while a third, an earth pony mare with orange tresses, wore a simple yet quite fetching dress.

Blueblood’s concern, however, was for Trixie – and much to his own surprise, she did not disappoint. Her mane was largely tied up, though she kept a few locks forward over her eye in her usual style. Her hair had been decorated with a small amount of glitter, while she wore blue earrings shaped like stars. Her dress was purple, of course, the same purple of her cape, with a high collar and deeper purple undershirt, while her dress’ chain was decorated with small stars, much more subtle in appearance than her cape. Whoever had designed her dress had done an excellent job.

Trixie smiled at Blueblood, striking a slight pose that Blueblood supposed was what Trixie thought constituted ‘alluring.’ “Well?” she asked.

Blueblood considered her as her friends left the back of the salon, joining the rest of Trixie’s acquaintances. “Quite fetching. Can we please get a move on now?”

Trixie’s eyes widened. “Quite fetching? That’s all I get from you?”

Blueblood glared slightly at that. “Well, how would you rate me?” Trixie blanched at that, and Blueblood nodded. “Exactly. This is a business arrangement, Trixie, don’t think I’ll forget that simply because you’ve chosen to dress nicely.”

The blue unicorn sighed, shaking her head. “This is going to be a long night…"

---

The streets outside of Canterlot Castle bustled with ponies of every tribe – even pegasi, who joined their fellow ponies on the ground before the gates that they would soon be walking through, as it would have been uncouth in the extreme to simply fly over the walls and essentially skip the line into the castle itself when the Gala officially began.

There were nobles of every stripe – margravines and dukes, counts and baronets, viscounts and vicereines, as well as their husbands, or wives, or lovers, or even just casual acquaintances. There were the Wonderbolts, here to put on a show over the Gala, and famous musicians and playwrights and actors and authors. There were dozens others who were lucky enough to have acquired a ticket, all dressed in their finest.

And arriving by train, there were others as well – Ponyvillians, two hundred of them, everypony who had been lucky enough to win this morning’s raffle having decided to come, and every one of them having taken advantage of their plus-ones. They were dressed in their finest, too. The difference between the Ponyvillian finest and the elite of Equestrian society’s finest was immense, especially given all that Ponyville had been through over the past week, though sheer weight of numbers on the Ponyvillian side – now consisting of about a fifth of the total guests – ensured that nopony said anything.

Duke Greengrass moved easily through the crowd of ponies that waited with varying degrees of patience outside of Canterlot’s gates. He shook hooves and traded some jokes with them, scoping out the feel of this year’s Gala. The unexpected arrival of the Ponyvillians had thrown off many of the nobility, making some timid of how to act, what to do, if the usual political battlefield that was the Gala was still open or if the presence of so many of the peasantry had made this year’s Gala off-limits. Greengrass had decided that until he had a good reason to think otherwise, he was going to do what he always did: throw his lines and see what he could do, what alliances he could make, who he could embarrass, and so on. There was a particular spring to his step this year, after what had happened to Lulamoon yesterday – he’d worried that she would be making a fool of herself at the Gala this year, as she had every year, but after tearing through Canterlot in tears at whatever Night Light had said to her, he sorely doubted he’d be seeing her any time soon. To an extent, it was unfortunate – he’d hoped to attempt another power play tonight – but, c’est la vie.

Greengrass put on a plastic smile when he ran into one particular pony. “Ah, Archduke Fisher!” he exclaimed, as several pre-Gala fireworks began going off in the sky, seeming to carry their own thrum and life to them.

Fisher acknowledged Greengrass with a nod, and returned his bow when Greengrass gave it. “Duke Greengrass,” he greeted.

Greengrass looked around at the gathered guests. “Dear Fisher, what a splendid party!”

“The midpoint to a prosperous year,” Fisher agreed.

“Quite a night, I’m impressed!”

“Well one does one’s best,”

“He’s to us!” The two sang together, “the toast of all the city – ”

“But what a pity that dear Trixie won’t be here!” Greengrass finished.

The song was moving through the crowd – pegasus wings flapping, unicorn horns glowing, the fireworks and their own hooves setting the beat. As one, the thousand ponies sang together:

“At the Gala! Nearly ready to begin –
“At the Gala, past the gates there’s a night of endless wonder!
“At the Gala! Open up and let us in –
“At the Gala, food and drink to sate anypony’s hunger!”

“Flash of mauve,
“Splash of puce,
“Croup dock haunch,
“Lack of nous,
“Green and black,
“Red and white,
“What’s he wearing?
“Such a sight!”

“Faces!
“Take your turn
“Take a ride
“On the merry-go-round
“But don’t you lose your place!”

“Eye of gold,
“Point of blue,
“True is false,
“Who is who?
“Curl of lip,
“Swirl of gown,
“Break their hearts,
“Keep it down!”

“Faces!
“Drink it in,
“Drink it up,
“’Till you’ve drowned
“In the light, in the sound,
“But can you carve your place?”

The Ponyvillians weren’t singing quite as strongly as the rest of the crowd – they kept to themselves, mostly – but for everypony else singing, they understood what their words were – a declaration that the quiet game of cloak and dagger that was every year’s Gala, was still on.

“At the Gala! Grinning yellows, spinning reds –
“At the Gala, take your fill, let the spectacle astound you
“At the Gala! Burning glances, turning heads –
“At the Gala! stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you.”

The nobles’ singing dropped several octaves as they looked furtively between each other.

“At the Gala, Seething shadows breathing lies –
“At the Gala, you can fool any friend who ever knew you!”

The low voices didn’t last, of course –

“At the Gala! Leering presence, peering eyes –
“At the Gala, run and hide, but a face will still pursue you!”

“What a night!” Greengrass heard a familiar, nearby voice sing. Duchess Posey was nearby, Baron Mounty Max alongside her, and nearby the long-elusive old crone that was Vicereine Puissance, apparently having left her telegraph in order to attend the Gala.

“What a crowd!” Greengrass agreed with Posey. “Makes you glad,”

“Makes you proud!” Fisher added. “All the crème de la crème,”

“Watching us watching them,” Puissance noted.

Posey frowned. “All our fears for all to see – ”

Fisher sang over her. “A grand night!”

“Of untruth, of denial,” Posey countered.

“Oh don’t be so uncouth!” Greengrass countered. “You chose to play the game,”

“Taking notes, seeing ghosts,” Baron Mounty Max added in a low voice.

“Well here’s a health!” Puissance insisted, procuring a flask from within the folds of her dress, the most ostentatious of any in the crowd. “He’s a toast!”

“To a prosperous year,” Greengrass agreed, “to our friends who are here,”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have come,” Mounty suggested to Posey.

“Oh you’re no fun!” Greengrass insisted. “After all, it’s the Grand Gala!”

“Look at it,” Trixie said. She was with her friends at the edge of the crowd, a slight hill on the road leading up Canterlot’s front gate. The thousand or so ponies that were waiting eagerly for the Gala to begin were milling before them as Trixie trotted alongside her friends, Blueblood having been temporarily ‘lost’ so the six of them could gather together one more time. “Our secret battleground,” Trixie added. “Nowhere left to hide…just look at it.”

Carrot Top grimaced. “Maybe this isn’t the best of ideas,” she ventured. “So much could go wrong…”

“We can still back out,” Trixie said, putting a hoof to the vial, hiding in her dress, that held the Truth is a Scourge.

“And let all of this go to waste?” Raindrops asked. “We’re here now. We have to make things right.”

“Come on, what’s left to be afraid of?” Cheerilee asked, doing her best to smile for her friends.

Lyra and Ditzy both sang together.

“All that’s happened… (let’s not argue…)
“All we’ve seen… (…we can only hope…)
“Now’s when we have to act… (…that this is the only way…)”

Blueblood arrived then, looking somewhat annoyed at Trixie for having ditched him. She offered a smile, shrugging as she nuzzled each of her friends closely, for re-assurance and strength, and she separated from them and, with Blueblood, began making her way into the crowd. The music was taking care of itself for now, ponies spinning and conversing with each other in low voices. Trixie had never been here before, at the pre-show – it was one of the benefits of being Luna’s student. She looked at it now as a virtual outsider, though with her vision also colored by what she now knew of the Night Court.

She saw the glares and sneers, the whispers and derisive laughter. The nobles glided through the crowd effortlessly, keeping their eyes on each other, heads looking this way and that. Their muzzles were held high in the air as their regarded their lessers, avoiding their predators while they sought out their prey. Already some nobles were wearing smirks of triumph, or their masks were cracking and showing the tragedy that had already been inflicted upon them.

This was what Trixie had wanted. This was the Night Court at its purest. A whispered word, a subtle threat, a few misplaced papers, and the whole pulse of Equestria could change. For the barest moment, Night Light’s ultimatum seemed more like an invitation. But only for a moment – and even if she had accepted it, she knew she could never leave the Night Court without making at least some attempt at fixing it.

The thrum, the beat, the fireworks and stomp of hooves and shimmer of magic, at last reached its crescendo – just as, through the crowd, Trixie spotted several ponies she at once did and did not want to see. She pushed all thoughts and doubts from her mind, and settled into character – trying to imagine what she would have done six months ago, even as the chorus resumed.

“At the Gala! We’re all ready to begin –
“At the Gala, past the gates let us through to endless wonder!
“At the Gala! Open up and let us in –
“At the Gala, lies and danger for anypony's hunger!”

“At the Gala! Buring glances, turning heads –
“At the Gala, stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you!
“At the Gala! Grinnning yellows, Spinning reds –
“At the Gala, take your fill, let the spectacle astound you!”

For everypony else, the song ended, the night resumed as normal. But Greengrass happened to look up just then – and he saw the last pony he expected to see, standing next to the last pony he expected to see her standing with. And she did not look happy.

Trixie advanced one step at a time, leaving Blueblood behind as the crowd seeming to part around her as she bore down on Greengrass. Fisher was still nearby, in fact he was almost between Greengrass and Trixie, and seemed as surprised as the duke himself was. Posey, Mounty, and Puissance all stared themselves, wondering what they were about to witness.

Trixie’s head cocked to the side somewhat. “Why so silent, good monsieurs?” Trixie sang. “Did you think that I had left you for good?

“Did you miss me, good monsiers?
“I’m not afraid of your scare tactics.

“Here I’ve come to spite you all –
“And stand here triumphant!”

Trixie smiled a most unpleasant smile, as she reached Fisher. “Fondest greetings to you all – a few instructions just before the Gala starts.

“Fisher can’t really hold his notes,” Trixie said, poking a hoof against the point of her fellow unicorn’s shoulder. “Hearing you just now was torture to my ears.

“Oh, and Fisher? Lose some weight –
“It’s not healthy in a stallion of your age.”

Fisher bristled, opening his mouth, but Trixie had already left him, trotting over to Posey. “Duchess Posey, you look well. I trust no accusations are forthcoming this time?”

Before Posey could even get as far as Fisher had, Trixie had her eyes on Greengrass. “And as for the star, Duke Greengrass, hello…” Even as she kept her eyes locked on him, she began cantering backwards, back to Blueblood.

“No doubt you’ve done your best – it’s true, I nearly gave in you know
“Should you wish to attempt
“To come at me again,
“You’d do well to see the noble I now stand with…

Trixie seemed to realize what she was saying, as she looked to Blueblood. A scowl overcame her features.

“Now stand with…”

Trixie stomped her hooves, turning and cantering towards the gates of the Castle angrily just as they opened. “Good night to you all – I’m off to get drunk!”

---

Trixie’s angry canter slowed, and then stopped entirely, when she found herself looking in to Canterlot Castle and seeing what lay through its gates, on the Courtyard. She knew that the venue had changed, of course, but she had expected the new Gala to take place under the moon and stars, with perhaps cheap tables lined up containing the catering and a space cleared for the dance floor.

What she had not been expecting to find herself staring at was a wide, tall palace where before there had been only open courtyard, stretching into the sky and glistening in the light. The whole palace glowed with magic that kept it intact despite the warm night – for the palace was made out of ice.

Trixie remembered – a hazily, vaguely, incompletely – what had happened the last time she had been inside an ice palace. After several long moments, she looked up, at a crescent moon that was hanging in the sky.

“No matter how bad things get,” she said to the moon, “I promise, I will try very, very hard to not melt this one.”

10. Set in Motion

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The ice palace’s interior was much as Trixie remembered the first one: a large, wide-open space for dancing, with tables hewn from ice along the north side of the palace for food and drink. There was an upper level as well, a gallery that looked down on the central floor and featured tables and chairs, as well as a stage, at which several musicians – including, Trixie noted, Octavia Philharmonica – were already set up and playing as she entered. The gallery was reached by a pair of long, curving stairs, which framed a large set of double doors. The ice palace’s roof, meanwhile, was somehow semi-transparent, allowing the light of the crescent moon and stars that hung in the sky to flow on through, while also creating the illusion of an aurora across its surface, complimenting the pale blue glow of the magical ice itself. Despite being surrounded by ice, the air was warm, and the floor beneath Trixie’s hooves was firm, not slippery at all.

Trixie noted something else as she entered, however – that Blueblood was once again at her side. He was wearing a slight smile, though Trixie could tell it was fake. “If we do not enter together,” he said in a low voice, “then you’re not keeping your end of our bargain.”

“I said I’d accompany you to the Gala. I didn’t say anything about what would happen once we actually got there,” Trixie pointed out. Blueblood’s false smile dropped at that, however, replaced by a scowl. She sighed, guiding Blueblood over to the table of hors d’oeuvres. “Viscount, I don’t think you want to spend time with me any more than I really want to spend time with you, so maybe we should work out exactly how we’re going to go about the rest of the night.”

Blueblood’s false smile returned, nodding slightly as he looked over the table. His telekinesis reached out and grasped a glazed fig. He regarded Trixie. “The first and last dances, dinner, and meeting with the Princess when she arrives. Other than that, you’re right, I do have some mingling of my own I wish to partake in.”

Trixie let herself seem annoyed for several moments, before nodding. “Fine,” she acceded, as she closed her eyes and her horn glowed, casting a basic time-telling spell. “The Princess should be arriving any moment…if she isn’t already here.” She bowed slightly. “Shall we, Viscount?”

Blueblood offered a bow in return, his horn almost – but not quite – touching Trixie’s. “As you wish, Representative,” Blueblood said. As one, the two unicorns trotted off, into the crowd. Traditionally, the Gala began with a dance before the Princess arrived, for reasons lost to time and tide. Everypony who had a partner was there on the floor waiting for the music to begin. Blueblood raised one eyebrow as the two took up a spot. “You can dance, can’t you?” he asked.

Trixie put an insulted look on her face, which wasn’t difficult as she actually was mildly annoyed by the question. “Prince, I’m from Neigh Orleans. I could give the Princess lessons.”

No sooner had she said that, then the music from the gallery above began – a three-beat waltz that Trixie knew well. Trixie’s hooves were in motion in perfect time, as she cantered backwards to Blueblood’s advance, then advanced on him, the two moving in an intricate circle in time with the hundreds of other ponies on the floor with them. Trixie flourished one hoof forward just as Blueblood reached out one of his own, and the two of them spun around, trading places as their fetlocks joined, then released. Trixie spun away from Blueblood, then advanced again, even as Blueblood rejoined his companion. Then once more they were off in a swirl.

It occurred to Trixie, suddenly, that she had never actually danced at the Gala before; she’d always been shy a date, except for the first one, and she emphatically did not want to think about that particular disaster tonight. She had to give Blueblood this, though – the stallion could definitely dance, in keeping with his persona of the perfect prince charming. Of course, she had not been lying either, and she found no difficulty in keeping up with the speed and movements of the waltz. The entire ice palace was by this point alive with the sound of trotting hooves, the movements of every pony providing a percussion section to accompany the strings and winds of the band playing above.

Trixie came close to Blueblood again, then withdrew. There was a sudden motion just as she spun again, and when she’d turned back around, she found herself dancing opposite a completely different pony – a white unicorn still, but with purple hair, wearing a gown of blue and purple. To her right, she saw Blueblood had a new partner of his own, several ponies away, looking just as confused but unable to stop the dance without ruining it for everypony.

The pony offered a smirk as she came in close to Trixie. “Hi there,” she said, as the dance entered a phase where the two would be close for a minute.

Trixie recognized the voice, if not the face. “Zizanie?”

“The one and only,” Zizanie responded, leaning slightly closer as her voice dropped a few decibels. “I tested your truth poison; it works. Kind of a blunt instrument, I think; a sledgehammer, not really good for finesse. Still, sometimes you need a sledgehammer.”

“So you’ll help me?” Trixie asked as she swayed back and forth.

“Not on your terms,” Zizanie said. “First, poisoning the entire Night Court? Too much heat, too much bear baiting. Fisher, Blueblood, Greengrass, and a few others. I’ll work things out with each of your friends.”

Trixie suppressed a smile at her prediction coming true, since she needed to look annoyed at having her ‘brilliant plan’ second-guessed and reduced. “I want the entire Night Court,” she insisted.

“Too far, too fast, little mare,” Zizanie said. “Going after the entire Night Court is a good way to end up dead, no matter the rules of the game or how much you think the Princess can protect you. But get just a few movers and shakers…” she did a few movements and shakes in time with the waltz, which Trixie echoed as they withdrew from each other. After several moments, the two mares were close again.

“Fine,” Trixie whispered back. “We’ll play things your way. Make sure to include Night Light, though.”

“Waste of time,” Zizanie said. “The Starlights don’t have any skeletons in their closet, trust me, I know. They didn’t even try to cover up Twilight’s disappearance or the reasons for it. Also, I don’t think the Viceroy is even here – I didn’t see him come in and I know that he didn’t have any plans to attend.”

Trixie resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably – it would have taken her out of tune with the dance, and scheme or no scheme, she was from Neigh Orleans and that would not have been acceptable in the slightest. She also needed to keep playing the part of a pony making a mad grab for power well out of her league. “Alright, fine. Puissance or Wallflower, then. I want at least one viceroy.”

Zizanie visibly suppressed a scowl. “So does everypony. Let me tell you this: viceroys don’t owe or hoof out favors, not even when they supposedly do. Still…Puissance has always been a tough nut to crack, and I do love a challenge.” The two spun away from each other again, then rejoined. “Fair enough. Puissance it is. Any more micro-managing you’d like to conduct?”

“No,” Trixie said. “But I’m going to activate the poison at midnight, so you’re on a time limit, Zizanie.”

“I can manage, even if I have to poison them myself,” Zizanie said, as she once again spun away, somehow perfectly weaving and swirling through several other dancing couples.

“Please do,” Trixie mumbled under her breath as she kept moving to the dance and watched Zizanie. Even with her eyes on the professional blackmailer this time, she still didn’t quite understand how the unicorn managed to pull what she did off, seamlessly rejoining with her previous partner even as Blueblood was somehow maneuvered back to Trixie. The viscount was notably unnerved himself. “What was that?” he demanded as he pulled close to Trixie.

Trixie offered him a smile. “Somepony who could give me dancing lessons,” she responded, even as the music they danced to reached a crescendo. The dancers all gave a final flourish, the musicians a final stroke of their bows or blow through their horns, and the waltz concluded with a stamp of everypony’s hoof, followed by each pony bowing to his or her partner. The collected ponies then gave applause for the band, who bowed.

It was then that the great, double-doors that had been in the back of the hall opened wide. Everypony turned to look, and saw a white pony wearing a red, blue, and silver dress uniform – Shining Armor, Trixie realized immediately – walk in.

“Lords and Ladies,” Shining Armor declared as everypony in the room quieted down. “Mares and gentlecolts: Her Majesty, Princess Luna Equestris!”

Everypony began to applaud – but the majority of those in attendance, the nobility and gentry who had been to innumerable Galas in the past – faltered in their applause slightly, some even audibly gasping, when Luna walked in. Every year, what the Princess was going to wear to the Gala was a subject of debate and anticipation. It was always an ornate, grand display of the wealth and taste of the Crown, often hoof-made by the Princess herself, who was both a patron of the arts and an artist herself. Last year, the Princess had worn a diamond-studded, deep blue dress with a surface that shimmered and moved like water, shoes with filigree so delicate that it was a wonder they did not snap, a cape with a high collar, and her black crown had been made taller, with the addition of a gemstone cut into the shape of a crescent moon in its center, while her mane had flowed long and thin, almost past her tail.

This year, the Princess wore almost nothing – even part of her normal regalia, her shoes and chest piece, were missing. She did wear a blue cape, but the garment had no patterns on it, no mystery, it was simple, if fine, cloth that lay across her back and withers, with sleeves for her wings. And her crown, mane, and tail were entirely unchanged – in fact, as the ponies watched, she closed her eyes for a moment, and her hair seemed to somehow turn off, ceasing its flow and and simply becoming light azure hair like any other, though it was styled into a braid with a black ribbon running through its length, matching the braid and ribbon that manifested in her tail.

She didn’t look bad by any means – what she looked was normal. As soon as the thought entered her mind, however, Trixie understood why Luna had chosen to appear like this. Luna’s eyes caught Trixie’s as the applause began to die down, and she offered Trixie a slight nod, which the mare returned.

When the applause ceased, Luna spread her wings wide. Trixie realized that, whether by chance or design, almost all the ponies of Ponyville stood off to one side of the ice palace’s floor, with the Night Court and other of the upper crust of Equestrian society occupying the rest of the space. Luna used one wing to gesture to the Night Court. “Lords and ladies,” she said, before turning somewhat to regard the Ponyvillians, gesturing with the other wing. “Mares and gentlecolts. All those in attendance tonight – I welcome you now to the Grand Galloping Gala.”

Trixie and everypony else gave applause, and though Luna indulged it for a few moments, she quickly raised a hoof, desiring silence. She received it after a few moments, and took several seconds to gaze upon the crowd before speaking. “Thirteen days ago,” she said gravely, “the town of Ponyville was attacked by a minion of the Tyrant Sun, who placed a magical, terrible curse upon the town that forced the good mares and stallions of Ponyville to destroy and lay waste to their own homes. This has been the most devastating act of Corona against Equestria since she escaped from the burning heart of the sun.

“The curse was broken, but the damage remained. Ponyville looked to Canterlot for aid…and I am ashamed to say that the agencies of Canterlot, the ministries, the precautions, and the systems that I put in place to forestall or, failing that, recover from disaster, were found wanting.”

The nobles shifted uncomfortably at that, even Blueblood. Trixie wondered how much of it was genuine, and how much of it was merely an act to fool the Princess into thinking they deserved their titles and ranks. “While the greatest failing lies at the hooves of the Royal Emergency Management Ministry,” Luna continued, “this crisis was not a secret one. It was made public immediately, the disaster and scale was known to each and every member of Canterlot’s elite. Yet nothing was done for ten days. Ten days of worry, of panic, of a betrayal of the trust and the faith that the common ponies of Equestria place within the hooves of its nobility, trust and faith that are given with certain basic expectations which were not met. Yes, it was the duty of the REMM to respond, and yes, it failed to perform that duty with the alacrity that I expect of it. But I consider it the duty of each and every noble, upon seeing the failings of the REMM, to step up, to organize a response, to do more than simply sit and watch as events unfold. That is nevertheless what happened. Worst of all, however, is the assumption that I made, that everything was working as it should have, an apparently foolish expectation that left the Crown as guilty of complacency as any in the Night Court.”

Luna turned from the Night Court and other gathered ponies, and instead focused on the bloc of Ponyvillians. As she was dressed, Luna could have easily blended in amongst them – the majority of them lacking the fineries of anypony else in the room. “Citizens of Ponyville,” Luna said, “the Night Court is ultimately an extension of me. Its faults are my faults. Its failure to bring aid to your town swiftly is my failure to do so – and all of this lies stacked atop my further failure to act when the Night Court did not. And so, for that failing, and from the bottom of my heart, I have invited as many citizens of your town here tonight as I was able, that I might beg your forgiveness.” The Princess, at that, stooped down onto her knees, and bowed her head even as she tucked her wings away and closed her eyes, awaiting Ponyville’s judgment.

She did not wait long. Ivory Scroll – dressed in a silver gown that matched her hair – detached herself from the Ponyvillians and trotted up to Luna. “Princess,” she said, “I don’t think there is anypony in Ponyville who thinks that what happened is your fault.”

Luna looked up to Ivory Scroll. Even kneeling, she was nearly as tall as the earth pony mayor. “Perhaps not,” she said, “But it is my responsibility.”

Ivory Scroll opened her mouth at that, probably to instantly forgive Luna, but then she seemed to remember that she was speaking for about two hundred ponies, and not just herself. She looked behind her, to the crowd of Ponyvillians, who were all nodding their heads with vigor. Satisfied, she turned back to Luna. “Your Majesty,” Ivory Scroll said, bowing. “We forgive you.”

Even though she couldn’t possibly have been expecting any other answer, Luna looked visibly relieved. She inclined her head. “Thank-you,” she said, as she rose, turning back to the greater whole of the Gala’s attendees. “Normally, the Gala is a night of excess and celebration. For the benefit of our Ponyvillian guests tonight, let it remain such – and, once the Gala has passed and the normal business of the Night Court resumes, let us hope that we all remember the ponies we serve, and who it is that we are held accountable to when we fail in our duties.”

Luna turned again, looking up towards the band and nodding. They were already prepared to begin playing once more, and within moments had struck up a slow, somber tune, yet one that somehow contained an undercurrent of the possibility of hope hidden somewhere within its chords.

Next to Trixie, Blueblood let out a long, slow breath, reminding Trixie that he was there. “That was unpleasant,” he noted in a low voice, as gradually the collective thrum of ponies moving and talking to each other began to drift back to normal, in time with the music picking up. The two unicorns made their way from the dance floor. “I am not certain I deserved that.”

Trixie eyed him. “Just because you’re not part of the REMM?” she asked.

Blueblood rolled his eyes. “Please, Trixie, don’t pretend to be so naïve. It is not a question of responsibility. It is a question if consequence, specifically the consequences of interfering with the affairs of another noble – nevermind one of higher rank, and especially a viceroy. Night Light made his intentions towards Ponyville very plain.”

Trixie smirked outwardly, even as inwardly she cringed. “So you were afraid,” she surmised.

Blueblood bristled at that, glaring at Trixie, who’s smile didn’t drop. Eventually, however, he let out another sigh. “Sometimes, fear is an appropriate response,” he conceded, even as he glanced around, almost as though to make sure that nopony but Trixie had overheard him. “Now shall we go and meet with the Princess that we might avoid each other until dinner?”

Trixie’s smirk became a little more honest at that, and she nodded. The Princess was, of course, constantly surrounded already by other ponies looking to earn her favor or ask her for one, looking to get her endorsement on something, or “just to chat,” but really all that meant was trying to make a good impression for some later scheme. Trixie noted, from the sound of several ponies around the Princess, that a not insignificant number of nobles were trying to exposit on how they were just about to finish plans to aid Ponyville, without actually saying as much and potentially earning Luna’s ire. The ancient alicorn took it all in relative stride, of course, though as Blueblood and Trixie came into view, her smile dropped into a look of surprise. Her wings fluttered a little, not much, but enough to signal the sycophants surrounding her to back off for the moment as Trixie and Blueblood both came up to her and bowed.

“Lord Blueblood,” Luna acknowledged with a nod, before turning to Trixie and nodding to her as well. “And Trixie…I am going to have to admit that I had never anticipated seeing the two of you standing together at the Gala.”

Blueblood offered a polite chuckle. “Nor I, your majesty. Times do change, however.”

“Very rapidly,” Luna agreed, with one eyebrow raised. She looked to his companion. “Trixie, earlier today I spoke with Captain Shining Armor.”

Trixie nodded; she had worked certain details of her plan out with the captain of the guard before meeting with Zizanie, and had known that he would bring the matter up with Luna. “Yes?” she asked.

Luna’s wings fluttered again in agitation, as her horn glowed slightly, seemingly to take an offered drink from a nearby tray, though it disguised her true spell. The opportunity outweighs the risk – barely, Luna said in Trixie’s mind, through a telepathic bond that she had just forged. If I thought that there was any other viable method, I would forbid it. As it stands…tread very, very carefully tonight, Trixie. You and your friends are not Shadowbolts, your target is very skilled, and this Gala is a more delicate affair than most already.

Even as Luna projected her thoughts into Trixie’s mind, however, she spoke aloud. “I asked him to ensure that his father put in an appearance tonight. I believe that relations between you and the House of Starlight can be repaired. Times have been…difficult, for Night Light, and difficult for Ponyville. I am hoping that, under the less stressful circumstances of the Gala, you and he can approach some level of reconciliation and understanding.”

Trixie nodded to Luna’s verbal point, even as she felt a very small wave of relief wash over her for Luna’s telepathic one. Luna endorsing the plan up to its climax, if not its dénouement, would eliminate any possibility of it being high treason, and instead turned it into what amounted to a police sting. She frowned, however, as for just a moment her plan took a side-seat to what Luna had said aloud. “I’m…not sure that’s possible.”

Luna didn’t need telepathy or words to make her thoughts on the matter plain in the moments of silence that followed. Trixie looked down, scuffing one hoof on the icy floor. “I’ll try,” she promised.

“That is all I ask,” Luna said, looking back to Blueblood. “Lord Blueblood, Trixie, if you will excuse me…”

Trixie and Blueblood both bowed, and Luna detached herself from them and proceeded to trot deeper into the Gala, even as the gaggle of sycophants returned to her side. Blueblood and Trixie both watched her go, then looked to each other. “Quarter to eleven?” Blueblood asked.

“Sure,” Trixie agreed. The two parted company at that, glad to be rid of each other. Blueblood looked like he was heading out to inspect his potential selection of ponies to keep him actual company for the night, while Trixie, on the other hoof, made a beeline for the nearest source of alcohol. The Gala had a bar set up in addition to its icy tables; she sat down at it – more than a little surprised to find that her rump did not freeze on contact with the icy floor; how powerful a caster was Luna, anyway? – and scanned her choices as the earth pony bartender came over. Bourbon was normally her poison of choice, but for some reason…

“Three measures of dry gin, one of vodka, half a measure of apéritif,” she told the bartender. “Bonus points if the vodka’s grain instead of potato. Shake ‘til it's ice cold – shouldn’t be hard here – ” she tapped a hoof on the bar itself, which was itself made of the vaguely blue-glowing ice – “then add a large thin slice of lemon.”

The bartender raised an eyebrow, even as he set about assembling what Trixie requested. “Gosh, that’s certainly a drink,” he noted.

“I try not to have more than one drink before dinner at an event like this,” she explained, glancing around the ice palace and neglecting to mention that this was a relatively new tradition for her, a result of the last time she had been inside an ice palace. “But I do like that one to be large and very strong and very cold and very well-made.” To help facilitate that, she telekinetically floated a few bits out of her dress, sliding them over to the bartender. He nodded politely in gratitude for the tip as he finished assembling her drink in silence, then presented it to her. Trixie took a measured sip. She raised an eyebrow. “No grain vodka?” she asked, recognizing the difference in taste immediately.

The bartender shrugged helplessly. Trixie shrugged as well. “Mais n’enculons pas des mouches,” she decided – it was only a minor hiccup and her spur-of-the-moment switch from straight bourbon was still excellent. She nodded, and he left to attend to another guest while Trixie took another sip, and touched a hoof to her ear or, more specifically, one of her earrings.

“Game on,” she said.

---

“Game on,” Trixie said into Raindrops’ ear via her ear clasp.

Raindrops wasn’t able to respond, however, as she was staring intently at Zizanie. “What do you mean,” she demanded, “act more feminine?”

The unicorn had appeared from nowhere, just manifesting out of the crowd next to Raindrops, as the pegasus herself had been trying how best to approach Blueblood, which so far had consisted of just trying to keep an eye on him while observing him from the upstairs gallery. To some extent, she was glad that Zizanie had appeared, as it meant that she was no longer being forced to guess how much time she had to spend with Blueblood before Zizanie would be forced to take matters into her own hooves, as per the Plan. Having said that…

Zizanie put her two front hooves together. “How best to phrase this…” she mused. “Raindrops, you’ve got the build of an earth pony lumberjack. More to the point you’ve got the gait of one too. That’s just fine for…whatever it is you do…but you’re trying to convince Blueblood to pick you out of every other mare in the room so that you can get his trust long enough to poison him.”

Raindrops bristled at that, scowling. Zizanie raised a hoof. “See?” she asked. “That. That right there. A more feminine mare wouldn’t look like she was about to pound my face in.”

“Give me a few moments and I won’t just be looking like I might,” Raindrops hissed.

Zizanie’s mouth curled into a thin-lipped smile, not threatened in the slightest as she looked Raindrops up and down, considering. “You need to relax,” she said. “Stop being so tense. Try smiling a little, that might help – ”

Raindrops raised a hoof, but only put it on Zizanie’s side and push her out of the way with considerably more gentleness than she really wanted to as she trotted past the professional blackmailer, heading down from the gallery and towards Blueblood. As she did walk, she did change her gait slightly – she moved with a little more softness, held her head just slightly higher, and gave her wings a few gentle flaps before folding up against her barrel loosely. “Remind me,” she said softly, “to kill Zizanie after this.”

“Why?” Trixie asked via their enchanted earrings – the same ones that they had worn to their excursion to Oaton a few months back, though covered in small glamors to make them fit their respective dresses better.

“She’s giving me advice on how to seduce Blueblood. And she said I looked like a lumberjack.”

Raindrops wasn’t certain, but she thought she may have heard a stifled chuckle from the other end of earring. She decided to give Trixie the benefit of the doubt at the unicorn pushed on. “No offense, Raindrops, but I do think that Cheerilee probably would have been better for this…”

Raindrops ignored a slight twitch to her wings as she trotted through the Gala. Blueblood was milling through the crowd, stopping to chat every now and then with this noble or that celebrity, even a few Ponyvillians. While talking, he seemed jovial enough, but when moving he looked more like a hungry wolf looking for a meal – a look which, oddly, did not precisely make him look half-bad. Blueblood normally looked so laid-back and oblivious; seeing him determined, trotting with purpose…even more to the point, with a purpose of finding a companion for the night…

Raindrops realized she was blushing slightly. Her first instinct was to try and calm herself, but then again her entire point tonight was to be playing the part of a fawning fan. Just like in the books she read, in the privacy of her room and which she kept otherwise hidden under her bed. She was certain that she could get close to Blueblood and play her part in the plan – and if she happened to enjoy herself a little by being close to the most eligible stallion in all of Equestria, well, what would that matter?

---

Blueblood ended his smalltalk with General Glorious Miles as quickly as he could – the pegasus’ bombastic attitude was scaring away his potential candidates, something that the general had no regard for, being married himself.

Blueblood didn’t see the point in the institution, himself, as he resumed his trot. Marriage – that would just make events such as the Gala so much less interesting. He had all night to get down to the politicking, but he often found that he wasn’t nearly so good at it without an audience, or at least a hanger-on. That was what he was looking for: a pony who was just looking for a good time tonight at the Gala, and perhaps back at his apartments in the city as well, if the night lead to that. Something to stroke his ego. His ego needed a good stroking every now and then.

His standards were fairly exacting, though, much to his own chargrin. Few of the Ponyvillians would do, their manner of dress was simply not something somepony of his caliber should be seen with, redeeming personality otherwise or not. And she certainly couldn’t be taller than him. All things being equal, too, he had to admit to a slight preference for his own tribe over earth ponies or pegasi…not that the other two tribes didn’t produce mares of exquisite quality themselves, he noted as he passed behind Captain Spitfire of the Wonderbolts and his eyes were drawn to her…finer qualities, no doubt a result of vigorous training…more vigorous than most, if the rumors about her and Commander Soarin’ were true. Blueblood chuckled at a few stray thoughts as he resumed his trot, knowing better than to try his chances with a Wonderbolt.

Here, more than anywhere else, his special talent tended to come into play. As he trotted, he felt himself almost being pulled this way or that, left or right, winding through the crowds, leading him to…well, he noticed as he stopped in the floor, looking around, leading him to an almost completely pony-less section of the Gala, a section where the ice had been sculpted by Luna’s magic to resemble a garden of roses and other flowers. He frowned a moment…until he saw two ponies, both of whom seemed to be trying to entice him.

The first was Trixie’s friend, he realized – Raindrops, wasn’t it? She was trying to make it appear as though she wasn’t looking at him, though she wasn’t succeeding – but, then again, that was no doubt her point. She had a slight blush on her face as she moved, flexing and unflexing her wings pensively, something that pegasi tended to do when they were trying to avoid letting their wings stand up straight. He had to admit that there was very little better than having a pegasus hanger-on, due to being able to drape a wing over him.

…but then, there was the other mare, a white unicorn with a purple mane, wearing a multi-layered dress and cape in varying shades of red, and bright, shining blue eyes that matched Blueblood’s own. Her stance was very different from Raindrops’ – she moved with confidence and grace. She looked and moved, in fact, like a member of the nobility, despite Blueblood not recognizing her.

“Hmm,” Blueblood wondered as he began trotting towards a spot equidistant between the two mares, for once his special talent of direction utterly failing him. To his right, the mysterious unicorn in red…to his left, Raindrops, Element of Honesty. But a friend of Trixie, which called her motives into serious question…but then, he had no clue who this unicorn on the right was, but she certainly seemed to belong here at the Gala…

There was always the possibility, he supposed, that he wouldn’t have to choose between the two of them. Equestria was fairly open-minded, after all, and he certainly was as well…

Of course, that was when he was suddenly bumped into. There was a shout of surprise – his, and a high-pitched mare’s – and the two of them went stumbling across the floor, which magic or no magic, was still fairly smooth. It was several seconds before the two could get their bearings and their hooves under them, each of the two of them using the other to steady themselves.

Blueblood blinked when he found himself only a few inches from the most amazingly pink pony he had ever seen. She was further wearing a pink dress, though the end of it trailed into a more maroon color, looking almost like a cloud of pink cotton candy raining a deluge of cholocate, while her hair was styled to include what almost looked like rainbow sprinkles.

“Oops!” The mare said once the two had their hooves under them again. “Sorry! I’m just sooo excited to be here and I wasn’t looking where I was going! You’re okay, right?”

Blueblood considered himself. “Yes, I’m – fine,” he said, measuredly. He looked up, but ponies seemed to have moved to obscure his vision of both Raindrops and the mysterious white unicorn – damn. He realized that the pink mare was staring at him, almost expectantly. “Um,” he said. “Hello.”

“Hi!” the mare said. “You must be Prince Blueblood!”

Blueblood blinked. She didn’t look like a sycophant or hanger-on, and Blueblood didn’t recognize her, but she seemed to recognize him. “Er, yes,” he said. “I am. You are…?”

“Pinkie Pie! I’m here from Ponyville. I won the raffle and I was so worried when I did because I thought that maybe Mister or Missus Cake would want to go but then Missus Cake said that they’d rather just spend some quiet time together, but they said I should go anyway, so here I am!”

Blueblood blinked. She’d said several score of words and did it in less than five seconds. She certainly seemed enthusiastic…and despite being from Ponyville, she somehow managed to make her relatively simple dress work. “Well,” he said. “Pinkie Pie…how would you like to share a drink with me?”

The mare’s gasp was great enough that it could have doubled as a vacuum. “Yes yes yes yes yes!” She exclaimed, as Blueblood started off. He realized after a moment that Pinkie Pie was literally hopping after him…suddenly, he was beginning to regret his spur-of-the-moment choice.

“Have you ever had a cherry changa?”

---

“Slight problem,” Raindrops said to Trixie.

Trixie looked down at her drink. She’d have to think of a name for it, but not right now. “What?” she asked.

“Well, I was closing in on Blueblood, but then Rarity apparently managed to get a ticket too…”

Trixie’s eyes widened. “He’s with Rarity?” she asked. That…that was less than ideal.

“Um…no. Pinkie Pie also somehow managed to get a ticket…and now she’s following Blueblood around.”

“Ha!” Trixie exclaimed suddenly, before she could stop herself by putting her hooves to her mouth. The other ponies nearby shot her strange looks. Trixie forced herself to get under control, raised her cocktail to them, and then turned to face the nearest wall as she took a celebratory drink. “Okay,” she said. “Okay…slight change of plans, then. Keep an eye on him, but I think we can pretty much rule Blueblood as safe. No way Zizanie is getting to him now, but make sure that she still tries.”

11. Objects in Motion, Pt. I

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Zizanie couldn’t stop herself from scowling as she tried, for the fifth time, to get close to Blueblood. Even beside him would have been fine – just close enough to discretely add a few drops of Truth is a Scourge to his drink. It hadn’t worked. Trying to just directly levitate some in, requiring some very fine application of telekinesis, had proved fruitless as well, due to that earth pony getting in the way every single time.

She was like a hurricane in pink, moving around Blueblood constantly as she talked to him, nonstop, barely pausing for breath. Blueblood himself seemed to be gradually growing to regret his decision to remain with her for the night, but had apparently not yet been exasperated enough to send her away or try to duck out, an impressive feat of self-control in and of itself as he had not yet had a time to actually take a single sip from his drink, so engaged was the pink pony keeping him.

That was particularly grating on Zizanie as well – that Blueblood’s patience for the pink pony seemed to far outstrip her own, and he was the one dealing with her. She could only assume that he was keeping his exasperation assuaged with thoughts of how that energy could be put to use later, after the Gala – something Zizanie couldn’t count on herself. The professional saboteur stomped a hoof at it all, daring any of the nearby ponies who saw her do it to ask why, as Raindrops rejoined her. “No luck?” she asked.

Zizanie glared at the pegasus. “This is your fault!” she noted. “If you had just been acting more feminine like I told you to…”

Raindrops grimaced, one of her hooves twitching. She visibly took several moments to calm herself before responding. “Pinkie Pie came out of nowhere,” she said in a determinedly even tone. “It’s not my fault.”

Zizanie’s eye twitched, even as she levitated out her pocket watch and checked it again. She’d been at this for half an hour – it was now nine o’clock. Trixie’s plan called for activating all the truth poisons at midnight, and she still had to make sure that the blue unicorn’s other idiot friends weren’t screwing up. Part of Zizanie’s profession was knowing when to cut one’s losses and move on to the next target. “Okay,” she said. “Forget it. Stay here, get him if you can, but I have other places to be.”

Raindrops nodded, looking relieved at the thought of Zizanie going away. The unicorn herself was glad to be going, as she was fairly certain that Raindrops wanted to pummel her face in and had since they first met. Whatever. She had a job to do.

She did, however, take a slight detour on her way towards finding the next of Trixie’s friends. Her musings about knowing when to cut one’s losses had reminded her of another maxim of sabotage and blackmail: always have an escape plan. It took only a few minutes by and behind the punch tables to set up hers.

---

Trixie got a creeping feeling up the back of her neck, the almost supernatural sense that something was watching her. Looking around, she found the source of the feeling quickly in the form of a pair of golden, annoyed looking eyes. After a moment, she realized that the eyes belonged to a blue pony with a darker blue mane that was approaching her swiftly, a unicorn dressed in a maroon jacket and black undershirt, and nothing else – surprisingly simple attire for a viceroy.

Night Light finished his trot up to Trixie, though he visibly grimaced as he closed in. His eyes darted elsewhere, and Trixie followed them. She saw Luna, who was out amidst the Gala, talking with ponies and seemingly paying no mind to what was happening over at the bar, at least until she glanced up and gave Night Light a hard glare. It was no harder, though, then the one that Trixie gave to Night Light herself as her attention turned back to him, even as she felt heat rising in her chest and at the back of her neck.

Night Light closed his eyes, breathing out a long sigh. “Representative Trixie,” he said. “My actions concerning Ponyville over the past week have been reprehensible, as was the ultimatum delivered to you. I apologize.”

Trixie’s own eyes narrowed. She had been trying for months now to apologize for her own slights against the Starlight family, and had meant it every time. Now Night Light thought that he could just trot up while Luna was watching and expect her to just take it? “You’re only apologizing because Luna is making you,” she noted. “You’re not sorry.”

Night Light considered a moment. “The Princess asked only that I offer an apology,” he noted. “She said nothing of waiting all night for you to accept it.” With that, Night Light turned around swiftly on his hooves, trotting off. Trixie snorted, turning back to her drink, considering a moment, then draining it in a single gulp. Suddenly, having only one drink before dinner wasn’t seeming like something she wanted to do, plan or no plan.

It was then that she heard a motherly voice whisper into her ear via her earring. “Trixie,” Ditzy said, “I’m only telling you this because you’re my friend: you’re an idiot.”

“Hey!” Trixie exclaimed. Fortunately, nopony noticed.

---

Ditzy’s Gala experience had, so far, proven to be somewhat lackluster compared to both what it was made out to be, and what she had been told to expect. Not that she wasn’t enjoying herself – it was just that she was doing so by talking to her friends from Ponyville and keeping an eye on Dinky, both things she could have easily done back in Ponyville itself.

Dinky was enjoying herself well enough – some of the Night Court and other guests had brought their own foals, as had a larger number of the Ponyvillians. On seeing the unexpectedly large number – about thirty in all – of especially little ponies this year, Luna had guided them, noble and common both, over to one corner of the ice palace. She then used her magic to sculpt it into a small play area, complete with slides, tunnels, swings, even a sandbox, though the sand in this case was instead snow – all of it magically kept warm via the same enchantment that kept the ice palace intact. Once finished, she pulled aside a pair of Night Guards and instructed them to keep an eye on the foals, so that their parents, if they wanted to, could still enjoy the Gala without a need for worry.

Ditzy hadn’t felt a need to engage in the Gala overmuch yet – her part in the Plan (in her mind, it warranted capitalization) wasn’t until its end. Instead, she’d simply watched as Dinky played with both her friends from Ponyville, and made new friends with the other foals who’d come. While at first the two groups of foals had kept themselves fairly split along noble-commoner lines, almost as soon as Dinky had worked up the courage to go over to the nobles – which had not taken long – the line had blurred, then disappeared entirely within minutes.

If Dinky’s special talent isn’t making friends, Ditzy mused, then I’m going to lodge a complaint with the universe. Ditzy herself had never had too much trouble getting along with other ponies, but Dinky was capable of forging actual friendships apropos of nothing.

Serendipity saw to it that Ditzy happened to glance away from the icy playground just as Viceroy Night Light walked into the Gala. He was dressed surprisingly simply for a viceroy, no better than any of the Ponyvillian stallion in attendance – almost looked like something he’d put on solely so that he could claim to be properly dressed. He spent a few moments looking around, before his eyes settled on Trixie, still sitting at the bar, where she was directing everypony else’s efforts in the Plan. He immediately made a beeline for her.

Ditzy was too far away to tell exactly what was said, of course, but simply seeing the expressions on Trixie’s and Night Light’s faces told her everything she needed to know. Night Light turned around quickly, the entire exchange taking less than thirty seconds.

Ditzy frowned, hopping over the small wall that separated the play area and trotting over to Dinky, who was hanging upside-down on the jungle gym and talking to one of her new friends as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Muffin?” Ditzy said. “I’m just going to go get a quick snack and talk to some friends, okay?”

Dinky nodded without righting herself. “Okay, momma!” she said, giving a salute. “I won’t leave the playground.”

Ditzy smiled, nuzzling Dinky, who was either not yet old enough, or else already more than wise enough, to not begrudge the open sign of affection and instead returned it wholeheartedly – though again, without righting herself on the jungle gym. With that for reassurance, Ditzy trotted out of the playground. As she did, she touched an alula to the magic earring she wore. “Trixie,” she said quietly, “I’m only telling you this because you’re my friend: you’re an idiot.”

“Hey!” Trixie exclaimed from the other end. Ditzy ignored the remainder of her retort as she trotted, looking for Night Light, though she whet her whistle with some punch from a passing maître d’ first. Though she hadn’t been able to keep an eye on Night Light, that hadn’t been an impediment for Ditzy – she was able to locate him again easily enough, catching up to the viceroy just as he was about to leave the ice palace. “Viceroy Night Light!” she called after him, before he could leave the Gala entirely.

Night Light paused in his retreat, turning to look at Ditzy. Like everypony on meeting her for the first time, he was thrown off by the sight of her walled eyes – currently, her right was basically on him, but the left was looking outwards and down, towards the floor – and whatever he was about to say was lost for the barest of moments before he recovered, realized he was staring, and immediately stopped by overcompensating by staring into right eye with a touch too much intensity.

Ditzy was more than used to the reaction by now, and so didn’t hold it against the viceroy as she bowed, spreading her wings a bit as she did. “Your excellency,” she said. “My name’s Ditzy Doo. I’m a mail mare from Ponyville, and one of Representative Trixie’s – ”

Night Light’s muzzle scrunched at that, almost imperceptibly. “Yes, I recall now,” he interrupted, his voice as even and controlled as he could make it – it was almost like he was trying to do an impression of Raindrops, Ditzy mused. “The Element of Kindness. With respect, Miss Doo, I’m afraid I have had all the Trixie that I can stomach for one night already – ”

Ditzy frowned at that, as she trotted to block the viceroy’s exit. “You don’t know what I’m here to talk about,” she noted.

“Is it Miss Trixie?”

Ditzy’s wings fluttered slightly of their own accord. “Basically,” Ditzy admitted.

Night Light nodded, unsurprised. “The matter between myself and Miss Trixie, Miss Doo, is a private one – ”

“Your excellency,” Ditzy interrupted, as she stepped a little closer, “when you denied aid to Ponyville, it stopped being private.”

Night Light glared down at Ditzy, though he didn’t seem able to think up a retort for that. Ditzy idly wondered when the last time somepony had cornered and challenged him so openly was. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem to be taking it poorly as he closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh. “Miss Doo,” he said, “my sole reason for coming to the Gala tonight was to apologize to Miss Trixie over the matter. She did not accept the apology. The matter is, therefore, something I consider to be closed.” He opened his eyes. “There can be no reconciliation between myself and Miss Trixie.”

Ditzy looked Night Light over. “You didn’t come to apologize,” she said. “Oh, you came to say the words, but you aren’t sorry.”

Night Light nodded. “You are very astute, Miss Doo,” he said. “There can be no reconciliation between myself and Trixie. You’re too young to understand why.”

In a way, what Night Light said was almost a compliment, albeit an unintentional one. Ditzy nevertheless shook her head. When she stopped, she found her eyes had shifted a little, and adjusted herself so that one of them could continue to be focused on Night Light even as the other now looked at the ceiling. “What do you mean, too young?” she asked, though she knew what he probably meant.

Night Light sighed again, even as he made to move past Ditzy. “When you have foals of your own, you’ll know,” he said, probably intending to sound very grave and wise as he did.

Ditzy reached out a hoof, blocking Night Light’s path. “I do have a foal of my own,” Ditzy said. She moved to be standing in front of Night Light again. “A little filly. She’s here tonight, actually.”

Night Light was genuinely surprised, as he did a double-take of Ditzy. “I’m – I’m sorry,” he said. “You look too – well, that is, I assumed – ” Ditzy’s own eyes widened a little at just how flabbergasted Night Light seemed to become. His posture, his tone of voice, all completely changed – more to the point, they seemed to become much more natural and familiar to him. After several long moments, he realized that he was stuttering, and took a moment to settle himself. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Ditzy smiled. “It’s alright, everypony makes that mistake,” she said, fluttering her wings slightly. She turned, pointing back to the play area. “That’s her, the unicorn filly hanging upside down. Her name’s Dinky Doo.” She looked back to Night Light. “You knew I was the Element of Kindness, but didn’t know I was a mother?”

Night Light shifted uncomfortably, gradually becoming more controlled and constrained again. “I am afraid I didn’t,” he admitted. He considered Ditzy Doo for several long moments. “Miss Doo…as a mother, you must understand where I am coming from, then. I am genuinely sorry that I involved Ponyville – involved you – in my troubles with Miss Trixie. But as I said: there can be no reconciliation between us. It is Trixie’s fault that my daughter is missing at all.”

Ditzy pursed her lips at that. “Your excellency,” Ditzy said, “with respect…one of the hardest things I’ve had to learn as a parent is that my daughter isn’t infallible, isn’t a perfect little flutter pony. She’s made mistakes, gotten into fights, started fights. She’s still young enough that her mistakes aren’t big, they don’t last…but I’ve learned that even though she’s my daughter and I should always give her the benefit of the doubt, she’s going to be in the wrong sometimes.”

Ditzy looked closely at Night Light. “I was there when Trixie and Twilight first met,” she said. “Trixie was…defensive, and ready for a fight, but that was because Twilight had called her magic fake while she was in the middle of a stage show for foals, and then came backstage just to continue calling Trixie a fraud. There’s a lot that Trixie could have done to deal with the situation better – but there’s a lot that Twilight could have done, too.”

Night Light shook his head, turning. “You don’t understand – ”

“Your excellency, I don’t think you do. I think that you’re just blindly lashing out at Trixie – ”

“Well what else can I do?” Night Light demanded, turning back to Ditzy and with his horn lighting up with a golden glow instinctively in anger, as Ditzy backed up several steps, her wings flaring in surprise. The exclamation caused everypony around to stop what they were doing, to turn and stare. Night Light looked at each of them, daring them to interfere. After several moments, the assembled ponies made a show of going back to their conversations and Gala, though careful eyes were kept on the viceroy.

Night Light’s gaze returned to Ditzy as he trotted back up to her, quelling the angry glow of his horn as he did. “What else can I do?” he demanded a second time, his voice barely above a whisper. “I am Viceroy Night Light of Latigo, and though I claim the title by marriage into the Starlight family, I have more than earned it after thirty years of service to the Crown. I have created and struck down laws. My every decision effects the lives of hundreds of thousands of ponies at a time. I have negotiated treaties and ended wars and toppled governments. I bend knee to no mortal pony and owe my fealty only to the Princess herself, and it is only her will that could have dragged me to this…this mockery of civility and celebration that the Grand Galloping Gala has become. And yet in spite…in spite of all of that…” the viceroy backed away from Ditzy, and all of a sudden his rage seemed to disappear, along with his self-righteousness, his pride, everything, as he slumped like an ancient pony staggering under the weight of too heavy a load. “In spite of all of that,” he said, “I am powerless. My daughter is lost and alone somewhere, if she is even alive…and there is nothing that I can do.”

He looked back to Ditzy. “The only thing I know,” he said, “is that my daughter blames Trixie. That it was the actions of Trixie that lead her to act how she did…that it is out of some deep and abiding concern over her. So tell me, Miss Doo…what else can I possibly do? What else would you do in my place? If your daughter was missing…and if there was a pony who could be blamed for it…”

Ditzy had a good sense of exactly what she would do. Some very bad ponies had once tried to foalnap her daughter…and she had not taken it well, at all. But there was a difference here, between her own experience and Night Light’s. “If that pony was trying to reach out to me,” she said, “if she was trying to apologize, over and over…I wouldn’t try and force that pony out of her lifelong dream. I wouldn’t threaten that pony’s home town. I know that you’ll find this hard to believe…but I’d forgive her. And I’d hope that we could work together to find my daughter again.”

Night Light looked Ditzy over for several moments, before turning around, making to leave the Gala. He only went a few steps, however, before stopping, standing still and thinking long and hard. At length, he walked back over to Ditzy, and he stared down at her for several long moments, before closing his eyes, and bowing his head. “Miss Doo,” he said, “you…you are a far, far better pony than I am.”

Ditzy offered a slight smile. “I don’t think so,” she said softly. “I’ve made mistakes too.”

“Yours didn’t nearly destroy lives.”

Ditzy’s own smile faltered at that. He was right – she hadn't nearly destroy lives, she just had. “I wish that were the case,” she said softly. Night Light looked up at that, surprised, but Ditzy only shook her head. “But that’s not what’s important right now, your excellency. Trixie knows better than to hold onto hate…if you go up to her and apologize, really apologize, she’ll accept. And she really, really wants to apologize to you...if you'll let her.”

Night Light grimaced, as he looked past Ditzy, back towards the bar. Ditzy followed his gaze with one eye. Trixie had just received a second drink, this one a bourbon. She did not look like she intended to make it last. The viceroy’s grimace worsened, as he grabbed a drink of his own from a maître d’ who stopped and offered one.

Alarm bells went off in Ditzy’s head as she remembered that she wasn’t here just to try and fix things between the Starlights and Trixie, and further noted a very faint green tinge to Night Light’s drink. She stopped Night Light before he could take a drink. “Maybe you should get a drink with Trixie instead, viceroy?” She asked, gently removing the drink from Night Light’s effervescent aura and placing it back on the serving tray – and ignoring the maître d’s scowl. “If I know Trixie, she’ll want to do this over bourbon.”

Night Light frowned slightly, before nodding, heading off and towards Trixie. Ditzy followed at a respectful distance, making sure to keep out of sight. She didn’t want Trixie to accept the apology just because she was watching, after all…it needed to be genuine.

From where she was, she couldn’t hear what was being said, only observe what happened. Trixie turned around as Night Light approached, prenaturally aware of him, or else possibly catching his reflection in her glass of bourbon. She wore the deepest scowl that Ditzy had ever seen her wear, one that easily matched the look of hate that Night Light had been wearing.

Night Light said something. Trixie said something back. It didn’t look like whatever she’d said had been kind. Night Light almost looked like he was going to give up right there – but he didn’t, instead leaning forward and saying something again.

Trixie was visibly taken aback, her sneer dropping into a look of surprise. Ditzy edged a little closer – Trixie’s attention was focused now on Night Light, and she wouldn’t noticed the gray pegasus’ approach.

“…really are sorry,” Ditzy heard Trixie say, when she was finally close enough.

“I…I am,” Night Light said. “I…I do not hate you, Representative Trixie. I don’t care about you. But my daughter…” He looked down. “I want to know where she is. I want her back. I would give anything, do anything, if I thought it would help…and that sentiment made me threaten the livelihoods of hundreds of ponies just to try and destroy everything you’ve ever wanted.” Night Light looked to Trixie. “I…should not have done that.”

Trixie opened her mouth to speak, but paused first. She looked down at her hooves. “Your excellency,” she said, “when I first met Twilight…the circumstances weren’t good. We fought, yelled at each other, called our respective beliefs stupid…and so I made her look like a tribalist in front of an entire town. I…” she let out a long sigh. “I should have been better.”

“And I as well,” Night Light conceded. “But I am sorry, Representative.”

“Me too, viceroy.”

The two stared at each other awkwardly. They weren’t friends now – they would never be friends. That was understood and accepted, and perhaps a little sad…but it didn’t mean they had to be enemies. It didn’t mean that they had to glare hatred and anger at each other every time they met, do everything in their power to ruin each others’ lives. Because the simple fact was that it wasn’t going to get them anywhere.

Trixie took her glass of bourbon, and poured half the contents into a second glass she procured from behind the counter. She offered one to Night Light, who took it. “A votre sante, Vice-roi.”

“Na zdrowie, Przedstawiciel,” he returned in Latiganski, and the two drained the contents of their glasses. After he was finished, he set the glass down on the counter, nodded once, and left. Trixie watched him go for several moments, before breathing out a long-winded, long-needed sigh of relief.

Ditzy let out one of her own as she trotted over to Trixie. “It might not feel like it,” she said, “but you’ll sleep easier tonight, trust me.”

Trixie eyed the pegasus as she got a re-fill on her bourbon, as well as a glass of bourbon for Ditzy. “I’m not an idiot.” she insisted at length.

Ditzy sighed. “No, you’re not,” she conceded. “But when Night Light came over here a few minutes ago, did you even try to accept his apology?”

Trixie looked away. “No,” she admitted. She turned back to Ditzy. “But he wasn’t really here to apologize! He was only doing it because Luna made him.”

Ditzy unfurled a wing, wrapping it around Trixie. “I know,” she said. “But if you’re not going to even try to work with that, then you’ll never get anywhere. I know it’s hard…but if you don’t do the stuff that’s hard, then the hard stuff never gets easier.” Ditzy paused, letting that sink in, before continuing. “He was angry, and scared, and he was directing it all at you, because he didn’t have anywhere else to direct it. But now it’s over and done with, and you two can move on to the important things.”

Trixie considered for several moments, glancing up at the second tier of the ice palace. Above, the band was stopping for a fifteen-minute break. Trixie, in particular, had her eyes on Octavia. “Why don’t I just throw you at all my problems?” she asked, smiling slightly.

Ditzy shook her head. “Night Light wouldn’t have listened to anything I said at all if you hadn’t been trying so hard over the past few months,” she assured Trixie, leaning in and giving Trixie a friendly nuzzle, which the unicorn returned. Her voice dropped lower, though. “What do you need to do with Octavia?” she asked. She didn’t recall the earth pony musician being mentioned anywhere in the Plan.

“Just double-checking my soundproofing spell,” Trixie said, pulling away from Ditzy and standing. “Probably not necessary, but I’ll feel better knowing that it works. Keep an eye open for Shining Armor while I’m gone? He should be here any minute.”

“Sure,” Ditzy agreed. “Just be careful…if I recall correctly, Octavia doesn’t like you. At all.”

Trixie shrugged as she trotted off. “Worst comes to worst, I’ll come and get you,” she said.

---

Pinkie stopped to breathe. Blueblood saw his chance, and tried to suggest that perhaps –

“Which do you think sounds better?” The pink earth pony asked before Blueblood could even take in a breath to speak. “Cherrychanga or chimicherry? Or what if I combine them? Chimicherrychanga! What sounds the funniest? I like funny words! One of my favorite funny words is ‘kumquat!’ I didn’t make that one up…”

---

When she had been just a little filly, many decades ago now, the parents of the future Vicereine Puissance, had told her that she would never want for anything, and for the vast majority of her life, this had been fundamentally true.

Right now, however, she found herself wanting for something; namely, for Luna to put some damn clothes on.

What does she think she’s doing? Puissance wondered as she eyed the monarch of Equestria from across the Gala. Of course Puissance understood the reasoning behind Luna choosing to appear in such a simple state, with naught more than a cape and crown. Puissance wasn’t an idiot, she knew that Luna wanted to reach out to the common ponies that she had invited, and she could even understand the reasoning behind it.

That did not change, however, that Luna was making Puissance look bad. The Vicereine had literally been preparing for this Gala since the last one; she did the same for every Gala. Oh, she took care of her duties, of course – at the end of the day, the Gala was just one more social event and hardly compared to making sure that her fiefdom was prosperous and wealthy and that Equestria’s governance proceeded in a way that she was satisfied with. But she had an entire team of ponies on her payroll who analyzed designer trends and made sure that whatever she was wearing to the Gala was the height of taste and splendor. The particular black, diamond-studded dress she wore tonight had cost her precisely five million, six hundred twelve thousand thirty-two bits, and four jangles. This did not include the price of the earrings she wore, not the bangles, her diamond-tipped shoes, or the necklace around her throat. It did not help that her various hangers-on – nearly as many as the princess engendered – were equally overdressed, but not nearly so unaware as to the effect that this could have on their image.

Luna’s entire ensemble, by contrast had probably cost less than a hundred bits – even the crown, which, being forged from pure magic, had cost Luna nothing.

It was extraordinarily trying, was the point, and Puissance had been avoiding Luna all night in a probably vain attempt to not make herself look like a fool standing next to the Princess, even going so far as to spend nearly a half-hour near the buffet and have some of the punch. Not that she cared in particular what anypony attending the Gala itself thought, but there were photographers here to be considered. The last thing she needed was an article in Equestria Nightly commenting on her total disconnect from the common pony as evidenced by her dress compared to those of the Ponyvillians, never mind that she hadn’t been aware that Ponyvillians would be in attendance tonight at all.

All in all, it was making her Gala experience quite unpleasant, yet she couldn’t do something as untoward as leaving early. What she needed more than anything right now was a buffer, something she could do that could only be seen in a positive light and which would deflect attention away from the fact that she was tremendously overdressed. Fortuitously, Her Majesty, consciously or not, had seen fit to provide Puissance with just such a buffer, in the form of the playground she had crafted.

“Ah, foals,” Puissance said to her assembled sycophants as she slid up to the low wall that surrounded the play area. She used a wing to gesture to the play area. “I find it delightful that so many are in attendance of the Gala this year.”

“Oh yes,” one of the sycophants – a baronet who’s name Puissance couldn’t be bothered to recall – said. “Yes, your excellency. In fact, just the other day I was remarking to my wife that my baronetcy – a fine little village in Coronetto called…”

Puissance tuned him out even as she smiled down at him, pretending to acknowledge him and give him a sense of importance. She simply bided time with her own thoughts until he was finished speaking. “I think,” Puissance said, “that the Night Court should, in its next meeting, concern itself with the affairs of the education system. In Palomino, we have begun to enforce province-wide standards and a final provincial test that must be passed to graduate from secondary education schools. Perhaps this could be implemented across the nations?”

Her sycophants agreed without question, of course – that was why they were sycophants – but Puissance heard a voice speak up from nearby. “I’m sorry, but what standards?”

Puissance turned around at the voice, smiling politely. She was not surprised to find herself staring at a Ponyvillian, a magenta earth pony bedecked in a purple and red dress that looked like she was more prepared for a comparatively garden party rather than the Gala. What was surprising was that Puissance recognized the mare – Blackcherry Lee Punch, one of the Elements of Harmony.

“Ah,” Puissance said, smiling down at the earth pony, feigning ignorance. “I do not believe we have been introduced. You are…?”

“Cheerilee,” the pony said. “I’m a teacher from Ponyville.”

Cheerilee’s humility – not mentioning her status as an Element, and using an informal pseudonym – bemused Puissance. The pegasus’ smile grew slightly as she spread her wings wide. “And I am Puissance Noctilucent Optiebeurs-Golo, Vicereine of Palomino and Califurlong.”

Usually, this was when most ponies – the ones who hadn’t recognized her on sight and known to steer well clear of her – would look suitably impressed, perhaps even a little mortified. Cheerilee, however, only titled her head to the side somewhat. “You’re not on the committee of national education,” she noted. “Can you even propose any kind of educational reforms?”

Puissance’s smile didn’t leave her face. Cheerilee thought she was being brave, most likely, the little mare from the little town standing up to the designs of the Big Bad Vicereine – it was quite adorable, in a way. “Indeed not,” Puissance said, looking over her shoulder as she tucked away one wing, while she used the other to gesture to one of her sycophants, a squirrely little stallion. He came forward at her obvious command. “But Lord Lucent, here – ah, my apologies, Viscount Lucent Scrawl of Konikticut – is indeed the head of the committee on national educational standards within the Night Court, while Palomino has some of the highest educational standards and best schools in all of Equestria, with Califurlong not far behind. I’m certain that, working together, we could vastly improve Equestria’s educational system.”

Cheerilee looked to the viscount, who took on a look of nobility and determination, nodding. The teacher’s head tilted just a little further to the side as she looked back to Puissance. “But that’s not actually true,” she said.

Puissance’s smile didn’t waver, though she did blink. “I beg your pardon?”

“Well,” Cheerilee said, “first, it was discovered last year that Palomino’s standards were being kept artificially high. It was only using its top one-hundred best secondary schools to calculate them, rather than an aggregate of every school in the province. There probably should have been some kind of scandal, but it just…disappeared.”

Puissance offered a sigh that in no way was really a sigh of relief over the fact that she had, in fact, been able to make that problem disappear. “Yes, I recall,” she said. “Still, the most recent studies still place Palomino as one of the most educated provinces in Equestria. It is largely thanks to our test, which ensures that educators are teaching students what they need to know to succeed in the world today.”

“But the test has been getting progressively easier over the past ten years, making schools look like they are doing much better than they are,” Cheerilee noted. “And then there’s the idea of ‘standards’ in the first place. The Palomino test forces teachers to teach only about what is on the test in order to prepare her students, but as a result the teachers have to skip over other areas which might be considered important, such as ancient Equestrian history, celestial mechanics, literature, or many liberal arts, in favor of increasingly abstract math and science with limited practical application.”

The Viscount Lucent looked somewhat intrigued at that point. “The Equestrian educational system has always valued history and literature,” he said noted. “And…”

Puissance glared at him. He wisely wilted away from the conversation, stepping back in line with her other sycophants, who were staring at the spectacle before them. Puissance needed to recover. “Miss Cheerilee,” Puissance said, “I can understand your concerns. But I assure you, that the future of the foals are the only thing driving my actions.”

Puissance stepped up closer to the low wall that separated the play area from the rest of the Gala. “I have had seven foals,” she remarked, “and many grandfoals, and indeed recently I was even blessed with a great-grandcolt, who is here tonight. I have, being a vicereine, made sure that they have all received the best of educations. What I wish, Miss Cheerilee, is to ensure that the same standards of education that I held the tutors of my foals and grandfoals and great-grandfoal.”

“But those tutors were allowed to teach at their own pace,” Cheerilee pointed out, “and adapt what they were teaching to their individual students, weren’t they? A standardized test would prevent that.”

“Perhaps, but you have to think of the foals, Miss Cheerilee,” Puissance insisted. She looked into the play area, and put on her best smile when she saw a familiar face, a pegasus colt hanging upside-down on a jungle gym next to a gray unicorn filly who’s pegasus mother had just nuzzled her before heading off into the Gala. “Scepter! Would you come over here for a moment?”

Scepter’s eyes widened at the familiar voice, and when he looked, he saw Puissance – his great-grandmother, by way of her first daughter’s eldest son. Almost instantly, he was on the ground, as was his playmate, though he hesitated for a moment before trotting forward, the gray unicorn accompanying him. “H-hello, grandma Puissance,” he said.

“Hi, Miss Cheerilee!” the unicorn filly said, with much more enthusiasm, as she waved at Cheerilee. The earth pony teacher returned the wave, even as she finished a low conversation with a maître d’ that had appeared from nowhere and disappeared just as fast. Puissance barely paid maître d’s mind in the first place, and only acknowledged this one by proxy, and she had little interest in whatever it was that Cheerilee had discussed with her.

There was a very slight nagging feeling at Puissance’s mind, but she paid it no heed as she focused on Cheerilee. “Scepter, my sweet little colt,” Puissance said, leaning down to him. “I believe that Ink Blot is your tutor right now, correct?”

Scepter shifted uncomfortably. He was younger than his new unicorn friend, though that hadn’t seemed to matter to the young filly. His bearing didn’t seem to match his regal-sounding name at all, and certainly didn’t make him appear like the colt who would one day inherit the title of viceroy and head of the House Optiebeurs-Golo. He would grow into it, Puissance was sure – that was why she had insisted he be named such, damn what her grandson had wanted (it had been something inane, like “Flicker”). “Come now, Scepter,” Puissance pressed. “What’s the matter?”

Scepter looked nervously up at his great-grandmother. “Daddy says I’m not s’posed to tell you.”

All at once, the magical enchantment keeping the ice palace warm seemed to fail, at least for Puissance. She couldn’t stop herself from glancing back at Cheerilee. “I beg your pardon?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“Daddy said that I’m not s’posed to talk to you neither,” Scepter said, “’cause he says that you’re real mean and that you wouldn’t like it if I said that Ink Blot isn’t tutoring me ‘cause she’s real mean too, so that’s why I’ve been going to public school even though I’m a noble, ‘cause it’s important for me to make real friends.”

Puissance drew back from Scepter, eyes narrow. “N-now Scepter,” Puissance said, her wings flexing pensively, “you really shouldn’t be lying to your great-grandmother, it’s not good for her heart.”

“But the doctors say you’ve got a heart like an ox!” Scepter objected. “And daddy says that’s too bad too.”

Puissance’s face contorted in rage when she heard that. The – the insolence! How dare Banner? No doubt this was his idea of revenge just for the fact that she had arranged for his mother – Puissance’s eldest daughter, Regalia – to be locked out of the Night Court, and in fact been sent to be the ambassador to Tapira. Puissance had been entirely justified, though, as Regalia had been trying to convince Puissance to leave the Court! Take Puissance’s power for her own! But Puissance wouldn’t abandon her vicereineity, not while there was even an ounce of blood flowing through her veins, not while she had a single breath left to breathe, not while –

Flash.

Puissance blinked, and glanced over to one side. She saw a pony with a camera, and a flashing bulb cutie mark. Instantly her brain did some quick mental math and perspective adjustments, and realized that that at the moment the photograph was taken, due to the angles, she would have appeared to have been glaring hate down at a little foal – specifically, the gray unicorn accompanying Scepter, who was in the way of Scepter himself. More importantly, the teacher Cheerilee would be in-shot, probably looking nervous or concerned.

“Vicereine Puissance Hates Ponyville Foals,” the headline would read.

Puissance came to three conclusions. First, her grandson needed to be taught a lesson in power, and would likely learn it when he joined his mother in Tapira, or else received his own ambassadorship in the Griffin Kingdoms, if Puissance could arrange it. Second, the freelance photographers of Canterlot were entirely too adept at finding the precisely the right moment to take precisely the wrong photograph, and the freedom of press probably needed to be curtailed for public events such as the Gala.

Third, she needed that camera. Now.

Unfortunately, the photographer seemed to realize exactly what it was that he had, and quickly turned on his hooves and fled – not so fast as to draw attention to himself, but far quicker than Puissance was entirely happy with. “Wait! Stop!” She demanded, taking off after him…

Cheerilee watched her go, trailed by her sycophants, who were perhaps about to become spectators to an embarrassing event that they didn’t want to miss. She looked down to Scepter and Dinky, a smile on her face. “How’s your night?” she asked.

“Great, Miss Cheerilee!” Dinky said, then pointed to Scepter. “This is one of my new friends. His name is Scepter, but he likes being called Flicker instead. He’s the hair to the viceroyalty of Palomino and Califurlong!”

“Heir,” Cheerilee corrected automatically, “the H is silent. Oh, but I’m not your teacher tonight, am I? You should run off with your new friend and have fun.” She looked to Scepter who, in the absence of his great-grandmother, looked much more at ease. “It was a pleasure meeting you, your excellency,” she told him, giving a very formal bow.

Scepter giggled at it. “I’m not a viceroy yet…” he said. “But I am Baronet of Cavesson! But my daddy holds it in trust ‘til I grow up. So I’m just Flicker. It’s what my daddy calls me.”

“Well, whatever else you are,” Cheerilee said, “you seem like a fine young pony, Flicker. You should go have fun with Dinky.”

“We will!” Dinky said with a nod, and the two foals galloped off towards the nearest swing set, Scepter’s wings flickering in short bursts to give him extra speed – his nickname seemed to fit him much better than his given one. Cheerilee laughed a little at the eager display before turning around, following after Puissance. This was too good to miss, and she needed to stay on Puissance anyway. She tapped one hoof to her earring. “I’ve got Puissance occupied,” she told Trixie. “Kept Zizanie away, made her think I’d already poisoned her.”

“Great,” Trixie said. “I’m up on the balcony, I think I can see…what’s Puissance doing?”

“Hopefully? An intermission show,” Cheerilee said with a slight giggle. “Let’s just say that the pony she’s chasing took a photograph at a really bad time.”

“Aw…I’m going to miss it…”

“I’ll see about getting more photographs,” Cheerilee assured Trixie.

---

Whether by chance or design, Luna’s ice palace had included a small room set off by itself on the second floor, away from the rest of the Gala – little more than a glorified alcove, with a window covered with paper-thin ice and only a single door inside. It was the perfect place for Octavia Philharmonica to take her fifteen-minute break from the Gala. She didn’t really need the break; for all that the Gala was the most prestigious event in all of Equestria, it was hardly trying on her skills, as all she and her fellow musicians were expected to do was provide what amounted to background music.

The room kept the hustle and bustle of ponies outside to a minimum, providing a welcome respite from the sound of her music and ponies in general and giving her ears a break from noise. Half of music, after all, came from silence rather than sound, the space between the notes that would give the whole form. It was good to just sit in the quiet for a little bit, eyes closed, and listen to her own breathing and…

Octavia’s ear twitched. She opened her eyes, expecting to find a pony in the room with her…but instead, she found herself still alone in the room, the door to it still closed. She was about to put the sound she’d thought she’d heard down to her imagination – even she wasn’t immune to the occasional false sensation – when she looked down at her hooves, and found herself staring at a small glass, full of punch.

Octavia backed away from the glass, eyes wide as she glanced around the room again, checking behind her. She had not come in here with any drink – which meant that somepony had brought it in. Somepony she couldn’t see.

Her sight, however, was not her best sense. She, slowly but carefully, trotted herself into a corner of the room, ears swiveling around on her head as she tried to listen for breathing that would have been out of place, or the telltale shimmering of a unicorn’s magic, even as she held her own breath. After several moments, however, she continued to hear nothing.

Octavia frowned at that. The vibrations of the multitude of Gala ponies outside the room would make this next particular trick of hers work less well than it might have, but she nevertheless closed her eyes, beginning to hum a short, simple tune. She listened to the sound of it, and more importantly, the way it refracted off of the icy walls, floor, and ceiling of the room she was in. Octavia was familiar enough with acoustics that she could tell, if she focused, the difference in sound between a room that had only one occupant, and a room with more than one.

Nothing.

Octavia opened her eyes, glancing around. Apart from herself and the mysterious glass of punch, there didn’t appear to be anypony in the room. The musician blinked a few times. It was…she supposed it was possible that somepony had simply teleported the drink into the room…but she didn’t know any unicorns that could do that, least of all without line-of-sight.

Octavia shook her head as she went for the door, pointedly ignoring the glass of punch. Something was going on here, and she didn’t like it, and she was not going to engage whoever had procured the punch for her in their little game as she placed her hoof against the door –

“Wait, hang on.”

Octavia nearly leapt from her coat at the sudden sound in the room as she whirled around. She still found herself staring at an otherwise empty room – or at least it was empty, until, at the other end, a cloud of blue smoke appeared from nowhere. It dissolved quickly, flowing off of the pony beneath it like steam…

…and the next thing Octavia knew, she was advancing on Trixie Lulamoon with the firm intent to buck the unicorn squarely in the jaw. Lulamoon realized her intention, raising her hooves. “Wait, wait, wait! I’m sorry, I just needed to test out my new silence spell, and I brought punch, and cake, so you can’t be mad!”

Indeed, clutched in Lulamoon’s telekinetic aura was a plate, and she swiftly grabbed the punch from the floor as well, holding both forward as a mixture of peace offering and shield. It was enough to make Octavia draw up short, glaring down at Lulamoon’s innocently-smiling face. “Only because I would most likely get cake on my dress,” Octavia said, jabbing a hoof at Trixie.

Lulamoon’s smile became ever more innocent. “I just needed to test out my new-and-improved silence spell, that’s all,” she repeated, making sure to keep the cake between herself and Octavia. “I thought it’d work better if you didn’t know I was coming, though…”

One of Octavia’s eyes twitched. She had a deep and abiding dislike of Lulamoon, and could not for the life of her see what her protégé, Lyra, saw in her that would make the two friends. “I am not your guinea pig,” she insisted.

“I know, and it was wrong of me. Cake?”

“No.”

“Okay. Did it work?”

Octavia’s eye twitched again. She turned around, making to leave – before a nagging question at the back of her mind stopped her. Letting out a long, suffering sigh at her own curiosity, she turned around, glaring at Trixie. “Yes.” She said, sitting down. “And I have to ask…how? You can’t be simply negating the sound, I would notice the effect on the room’s acoustics.”

Lulamoon’s smile switched from innocent to smug, though she kept the cake between her and Octavia. “Well, I got to thinking,” she said. “There’s more than one way to turn invisible, right? You can just put an illusion up in front of you of whatever’s behind you, but then moving around becomes a pain, and you have to keep one eye behind you to make sure you’re copying things right. Or, you can bend light around you. That’s easier, but it creates this kind of blob, like this…” she telekinetically grasped the glass of punch, and wove an invisibility enchantment over it. Octavia could see what she meant – as it moved around under her telekinetic grip, light would visibly bend around it, creating an indistinct, but notable, blur. “That’s good for low-light or if nopony’s really looking, it doesn’t really take anything out of you, right? But then what do you do when it’s bright or you know somepony’s looking for you?”

Lulamoon finally set down her cake, but only to wave her hooves over herself, cloaking herself in an invisibly spell, though she did nothing to hide her sound as she trotted along the wall and towards the door, then back. While Octavia could follow Lulamoon by ear, she couldn’t see her, nor any of the tell-tale shift in light that her previous spell had used. Once she was back, Lulamoon made herself visible again. “That spell,” she said, “works by making light just kind of phase through you. It doesn’t interact with you at all, so it goes right on through. Perfect invisibility. Used to be kind of hard on the horn, but I’ve gotten real good at it.”

Octavia stared with eyes half-lidded. “That does not answer my question,” she said.

Trixie’s smile grew. “You’ll like this,” she insisted. “Basically, I thought to myself, sound has to work the same way, right? I create a sort of ghost-sound shield of what you’re supposed to be hearing, but somepony like you would notice the difference. I can bend sound around me, but that still leaves that humming trick you have. So – and I’ve been working on this for weeks now…” her horn glowed again, and she encased her body in a visible blue glow, before beginning to prance in place. However, no sound came from her, and to Octavia – who hummed out a quick tune, for her own benefit if not Lulamoon’s –noted that, indeed, the acoustics of the room had notably changed, making it seem as though there was only a single occupant inside, rather than two. It was, in short, impossible to locate Lulamoon by sound.

Lulamoon settled down from her display, smiling at Octavia as she cancelled her spell. “What do you think?”

Octavia stared at Lulamoon. “It works,” she grunted, standing up again and leaving, nothing stopping her now.

Trixie watched her go, before sighing a little and tucking into the cake she’d brought up, as well as the punch, which basically served as a light snack in between her bouts of cocktails. “Attente tourmente,” she mourned. On the other hoof, her spell worked. If it could beat Octavia’s hearing, then it would be more than a match for Zizanie’s, she was sure…

12. Objects in Motion, Pt. II

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Carrot Top shuffled about on her hooves uncomfortably as she trotted, trying to keep out of sight of Archduke Fisher even as she tried to keep him in her own sights. She ducked down a few times to get out of his line of sight, tried to keep a few ponies between her, moved furtively, and basically did all those things that those crime novels that Trixie liked to read and occasionally loaned to her told her to do to shadow somepony.

“You could be a little more obvious,” a maître d’ said, “but I’m not exactly sure how.”

Carrot Top jumped, though she settled down after she realized that it was only Zizanie – and then immediately, if unconsciously, took up a defensive posture on noticing that it was Zizanie. Before Carrot Top’s eyes, the unicorn just seemed to change, and she was suddenly wearing a dress that looked much more appropriate for the Gala than Carrot Top’s own. “Don’t scare me!” she whispered.

“Nopony is listening to you,” Zizanie responded in a normal speaking voice. “You can talk normally. Nopony’s going to think that a little country mare like you is a scheming noble.” Carrot Top glared at her at that, her cheeks puffing up slightly, but Zizanie only chuckled, holding up a hoof. “Relax, little mare. Most ponies would take that as a compliment.”

“Did you mean it as a compliment?” Carrot Top inquired.

“Not really,” Zizanie observed, as she looked past Carrot Top, back to Archduke Fisher. “Planning on hitting him up?”

Carrot Top remembered what Trixie told her: “Ponies like Zizanie are hired by one noble to get revenge on another as often as anything,” Trixie had said, “so, Carrot Top, shadow Archduke Fisher. Make Zizanie think that you’re going to poison him, but don’t let Fisher see you. And when she asks why, tell her that it’s because I want to get revenge on him for the stuff in the paper. That’ll help her buy everything, and she’ll end up wasting more time trying to poison the archduke.”

The earth pony farmer nodded in response to Zizanie’s question. “Yes, I’m going to, because Trixie wants – ”

“Forget it, too difficult,” Zizanie said. “See that monocle he wears? It detects magic. I don’t know if it would necessarily detect the Truth is a Scourge, but I don’t think we should risk it, right?”

Carrot Top blinked. That wasn’t what Trixie had predicted Zizanie would say. “N-no?” she guessed.

“Not a good noble to try blackmail on, anyway,” Zizanie said. Carrot Top noted that Zizanie did speak a little quieter when talking opening of blackmail, and leaned into Carrot Top as well – apparently her nonchalant attitude stretched only so far. “He’s sort of a scorched earth kind of enemy to have. Trust me. Ah – but there we go!”

Carrot Top followed where Zizanie’s gaze had shifted, and found herself looking at two ponies – a slate-gray earth pony stallion dressed in northern fineries, and his apparent date, a pale yellow pegasus mare with sharp pink hair, wearing a loose and airy ensemble that was common amongst cloud-city pegasi who decided to dress up. “These two are the kind we’re looking for,” Zizanie said, as she guided Carrot Top towards them, her dress once more shifting, without flash or any apparent magic, to be that of a maître d’. “Baron Mounty Max. He’s new to the Court, which means he’s ended up accidentally committing all kinds of blunders that he’s just learning to sweep under the rug. And the other is Duchess Fragrant Posey. She’s not new, but she used to be, you know? She's made some mistakes that she’d love to keep buried forever.”

Carrot Top blinked. “Posey?” She asked.

“Yes. Fluttering Posey’s aunt,” Zizanie said with a smile. “Or is it Fluttershy?”

Carrot Top jumped slightly at that, and she looked to Zizanie with more than a little trepidation. “What do you know about Fluttershy?” she demanded. The timid pegasus, back in Ponyville, didn’t exactly advertise that she was related to one of the most powerful family of ponies in Equestria.

Zizanie’s smile grew. “Oh, I know all sorts of things, Miss Top,” she said, placing a hoof on Carrot Top’s withers, as she leaned in next to Carrot Top’s ear, whispering. “It’s my job. Now, so far three of you Elements have been completely inept at either getting somepony poisoned, or letting me do the job myself. Please try to be better.” She shoved Carrot Top forward – not hard, but enough that Carrot Top found herself standing in front of the Baron and Duchess quite suddenly.

Noble pony stared at commoner for several seconds. Carrot Top’s mind whirled. She’d had an entire act planned out in her head for dealing with Archduke Fisher, how she’d lure him into talking about the Farmer’s Union of Ponyville and somehow that would relate to his industrial work, and they’d get on friendly terms and Carrot Top would spend the rest of the night keeping him safe from Zizanie and the truth poison – but now that was apparently out the window.

Or was it? Had Zizanie tossed her over here to get her away from Fisher? Was she even now poisoning the archduke, while Carrot Top stood here staring stupidly at the duchess and baron and –

“Excuse me?” Baron Mounty said, scuffing one hoof on the floor. “Might we help you, miss?”

Carrot Top snapped back to the here and now. “O-oh!” she said. “Um…no, I’m – oh, I’m sorry, I need to…” Carrot Top stooped down, bowing before the two nobleponies. “I’m sorry, your Lordship, your Grace, I forgot to bow – ”

“It’s alright,” Duchess Fragrant said, wings fluttering a little and using a hoof to indicate that Carrot Top should rise. As Carrot Top did, the duchess continued. “Noblepony and gentry and commoner and everything in between are mingling freely enough tonight that I don’t think it makes much sense for anypony to bow. Everypony but the Princess would spend the entire night on their knees.”

Baron Mounty laughed heartily at that, while Carrot Top just offered a smile. The duchess sounded much like her niece, though with more of an edge to her voice – nothing threatening, she was simply not a pony afraid to speak to others, unlike Fluttershy. “Thank-you, your Grace,” Carrot Top said. “If you’ll excuse – ”

“You look familiar,” Posey interrupted, tapping a hoof to her mouth. “Are you…Carrot Top, by any chance?” At Carrot Top’s nod, Fragrant’s smile grew warmer. “Then you would be my niece Fluttering’s new friend.”

Carrot Top wasn’t certain if she’d ever get used to nobility recognizing her – but as long as Fragrant did, she appreciated that the duchess was focusing her as her niece’s friend, and not as the Element of Generosity. “Yes, your Grace. Though I know her as Fluttershy.”

Fragrant’s expression changed at that, to one that was surprisingly familiar to Carrot Top – her cheeks puffing a little as she frowned. It was basically the same look that Carrot Top herself got whenever she grew annoyed with something, though the duchess wasn’t directing the pout at Carrot Top in particular. “Ooh…” she seethed. “Rainbow Dash gave her that nickname. Fluttering likes it, but I’ve always thought it was belittling…”

“I like it,” Baron Mounty said. He waved a hoof in the air, as though tracking the gentle flight of a butterfly. “Fluttershy…it sounds very sweet and demure. From what you’ve told me of her, it sounds like it fits very well, and as long as she likes…are you alright, duchess?”

Duchess Fragrant had turned to the baron, directing her glare at him. The baron failed to burst into flames, or even understand that he was being glared at. Is that what I look like? Carrot Top wondered. “I think she uses it because she doesn’t want to let everypony know she’s a Posey,” she said aloud. “Not that she’s ashamed! But she wants to lead a quiet, simple life. And she does seem to like the nickname, your Grace.”

The duchess let out a long sigh at that. “As long as she is happy,” she said. “I’m afraid that both my brother and I put a touch too many expectations on her when she was a foal…Thunderous wanted her to inherit the weather factory. I have…had difficulties having foals of my own, meanwhile, and so named Fluttering as my heir apparent.” Fragrant shook her head. “We were both less sensitive to Fluttering’s own needs than we should have been, and we have spent years trying to make things up to her.”

Carrot Top blinked. Suddenly she felt like she had a missing piece to a puzzle at long last. “So that’s why Thunderous was so adamant about Rainbow Dash moving to Ponyville…” she realized. “It wasn’t just to look out for Fluttershy, he wanted to make things up to her.”

Fragrant nodded, though a touch of her scowl returned at the thought, again, of Rainbow Dash (Carrot Top got the sense that the duchess thought of the blue pegasus as a negative influence on her niece), even as a maître d’ approached the trio with a tray of three drinks – Zizanie, Carrot Top could tell from her eyes, even though her coat had changed color. The unicorn-in-disguise glanced between Carrot Top and one of the offered drinks repeatedly – the intention was fairly plain, that the drink she was glancing at was safe, and the other two were poisoned. “Apéritif, Lords and Ladies?” Zizanie asked.

Carrot Top’s eyes widened. She had a second to think about what she was doing, decide that this felt decidedly familiar, and finally reach out and grasp one drink in each hoof – the two poisoned ones. “To Fluttershy!” she declared, downing both wines quickly. They were fairly dry, but Carrot Top didn’t know if that was a property of the wine itself, or the truth poison contained therein.

Baron Mounty, Duchess Fragrant, and Zizanie-in-disguise all stared at Carrot Top with eyes wide as she drank both glasses of wine, as did several other nearby Gala attendees – talking about blackmail almost openly was apparently not worth paying attention to, but a mare trying to get sloshed was.

“I like her,” Baron Mounty declared.

If nothing else, drinking two glasses of wine simultaneously gave Carrot Top time to think up an excuse for why she had. When she finished, she shook her head, setting the empty glasses back onto the serving tray “Um,” she said, blinking a few times and shaking her head. She was going to regret doing that in about ten minutes or so, she just knew it. “Uh, sorry, just…I’m still new to bumping shoulders with nobility, and…and I don’t normally drink like that, I swear!”

“That’s a shame and a relief at the same time,” Mounty said. “Honestly, pony like you, with your obligations to Equestria while trying to still lead a normal life…I do not know how you do it. I certainly could not.” He looked to Fragrant. “Isn’t that right, your Grace?”

Fragrant blinked a few times more. Carrot Top knew what she was probably thinking: this is my Fluttering’s newest friend? She held up her hooves. “I’m sorry, your Grace,” she apologized. “I was just, um…very thirsty, and very worried, Ponyville’s had so many problems recently…and my farm! My farm’s irrigation system had to be torn up and worked on, and…oh, I’m sorry. I’ll go.” Carrot Top bowed before the two nobles. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Baron Mounty, Duchess Fragrant,” she said, before turning and stepping away. A glance over her shoulder saw the baron shrugging and talking to Fragrant, who still looked visibly shocked at the rapid change in character that Carrot Top had just displayed before her. Of Zizanie, however, there was no sign.

Carrot Top grimaced, tapping a hoof to an earring she wore. “Trixie,” she said softly, “there might be a little problem…I’m sorry…”

“Did Zizanie get to Fisher?” Trixie asked over their magical link.

“No,” Carrot Top said. “She said that he’s got a monocle that would let him see the truth poison…so instead she wanted me to help her with Baron Mounty and Duchess Fragrant.”

“That’s less than ideal…”

“It, um…gets worse. See, the only way I could think of to stop them from drinking the poison that Zizanie tried to give them was to, um…drink it myself.”

There was a long pause at that. “That seems familiar,” Trixie said.

“I know.”

“The funny thing is that poison joke’s even an ingredient – ”

“About that,” Carrot Top said. “What are the ingredients? If I leave the Gala and get to the nearest apothecary I might be able to mix up a cure for myself…and either way it might be better if I’m not around at midnight…”

Trixie paused again at that. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Try to come back, though…don’t know what Zizanie might do when everything heads to the sun.”

---

“…But I was so sure that it was one of the other bitter bakers that destroyed the ‘MMMM!’” Pinkie explained as she followed Blueblood. “That way, their delicious dessert would reign supreme. I mean, you should have seen Joe’s Donutopia. It was a spectacular city of donutty delight, topped temptingly in sprinklicious sprinkles. And Gustave's éclairs looked so incredibly edible, with glistening glaziness. But then there was Mulia Mild’s Mousse Moose!” Pinkie licked her lips, Blueblood opened his mouth, but was once again too slow. “Hoh, that mouth-wateringly marvelous mousse moose tempted the taste buds with its silky, smooth, yummy-nummy, chocolateyness! So I had to figure out which criminal devoured the Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness while leaving the trio of tasty treats untouched!”

Pinkie was silent for a full second. Blueblood stared in disbelief at that, and finally opened his mouth to speak. Unfortunately, there was only one question he could ask, one thing he could say after listening to her talk non-stop for two hours about…Blueblood couldn’t even remember what about.

“Are you real?”

“Hmm…” Pinkie said, tapping a hoof to her mouth. “Good question! It reminds me of this one time that I painted my room, and it had been orange but then it was pink! I mean, for awhile there I just couldn’t wrap my head around it – how very, very easy it is to change the identity of a thing, simply by changing its color…”

Really, Blueblood thought to himself as he sighed, I deserve this round of nonsense. I brought it on myself. He reached the catering table and was about to have some punch, when he saw the bowl was empty but for one last cup – and before he could say or do anything, Pinkie had it in her hooves, drank it, and threw away the disposable cup before Blueblood could even think of having any, all without breaking stride, or even realizing what she was doing.

Blueblood sighed again. He briefly considered trying to leave her behind – but he doubted he could slip away from her. He considered telling her in exacting terms to shut up already, but there was no doubt that this would cause a scene, and Viscount Prince Blueblood did not make mares cry in public, not intentionally, anyway. It would make him look bad. So, there was really only one thing he could do at this point.

Try and listen to her.

Blueblood strongly suspected that he was not nearly drunk enough for such an endeavor, and set off to rectify that forthwith.

---

Duke Greengrass had gotten to where he was in the Night Court through a combination of skill, guile, and ruthlessness. His special talent was nominally weeding, but the earth pony had learned some time ago how to apply that to more than just the garden. He could see weaknesses in others, and exploit them. It made him no few enemies, but he could always see his enemies’ weaknesses, how to keep them down and out of his way. Those he decided to remove, to see that they would never rise in the Night Court, were not supposed to recover.

Which was why he found himself, on what he’d otherwise hoped would be a fun, basically relaxing night off at the Gala where he did a little sniping and politicking but mostly just enjoyed the ambiance, he instead found himself on the second level of the ice palace, staring down at the first-floor bar and, more specifically, Trixie Lulamoon.

No, she hadn’t left the bar at all for the past three hours, except for a brief visit with Octavia. He did not know what she had done with the musician, but the earth pony was once against playing with her bandmates, and would not take another recess until well after dinner. Whatever it was, it probably wasn’t anything that Greengrass had to worry about.

Why, then was he worried?

The duke trotted along the balcony’s edge, continuing to stare down at Lulamoon. She was just drinking, albeit in measured sips – apparently her proclamation of intending to get drunk was merely bluster. She overall did not look like how she was supposed to. She’d met with Night Light, but that was only for a few minutes, and it seemed more like an apology than anything. Shining Armor, too, had come by, and Lulamoon had walked off with him for a few moments, out of Greengrass’ sight, but she’d returned within moments.

She was patching things up with the Starlight family, it seemed. And that? That made no sense.

Lulamoon was an arrogant, bombastic mare. She was a compulsive liar. She was lazy, a braggart, a showoff. She was impulsive and seemed to have no idea how to think or plan ahead. She was entitled, convinced that she deserved the best simply because she was Lulamoon. Greengrass had learned at least some of the details regarding what had sent Lulamoon running through Canterlot crying yesterday – Night Light had challenged her belief in her own supremacy and essentially forced her to choose between the town she was supposed to represent and her goals and ambitions. She should have been an emotional wreck right now, scurried off to Ponyville to hide under the covers and childishly accuse Night Light of being a monster and construct a little fantasy world where she was perfect and everypony else was out to get her.

But she wasn’t. She was here, flying in the face of all logic and reason and all her weaknesses.

Greengrass grimaced, turning and trotting away from the balcony. He needed to not look at Lulamoon right now – he needed to think. The punch bowl had been refilled by now; he got a drink and stewed as he tried to eliminate what he suspected and focused purely on the information in front of him.

Lulamoon had come to the Gala with Blueblood. Did that mean that Lulamoon and Blueblood had cut some kind of deal? Why? She had no reason to favor him over Greengrass or Fisher. Indeed, Greengrass had anticipated his main rival for control of Lulamoon and the Elements would be Fisher, not Blueblood. Blueblood was showing an awful lot of initiative and acumen, far more than he had in the past. That was a separate matter and one that Greengrass would have to deal with as soon as the Gala was done.

The point was, Lulamoon and Blueblood had split from each other almost Lulamoon upon entering the Gala. Blueblood was now with some pink pony from Ponyville, Trixie was at the bar, and…nothing beyond that.

What was the plan? The point? The purpose? With Lulamoon’s ego being roughly the size of the ice palace that Greengrass was in, surely the only reason she had to come to the Gala tonight was as some kind of petty revenge. But surely she had more in mind than to simply belittle Greengrass outside of the Gala in verse and then go off and get drunk!

What was her plan?

“So…you’re Duke Greengrass, right?”

Greengrass blinked, his reverie interrupted as he looked for the source of the question. He found himself looking at a mint green unicorn mare – Lyra Heartstrings, the Element of Loyalty. Standing with her was a cream earth pony mare with curled, pink-and-navy hair; that must have been her long-time marefriend, Bon Bon.

Given whom he was facing, Greengrass had expected a look of contempt, or anger, or even just annoyance. Instead, Heartstrings looked curious more than anything. This, too, made little sense to Greengrass – wasn’t this the same mare that he had tried to convince, via her mentor Octavia, to move away from Ponyville and her friends to work for him? Hadn’t he arranged matters to try and destroy the career of Octavia later for betraying and failing him? She should be filled with indignation right now – that was how these things normally went.

“It’s just that, I don’t think we’ve ever met face-to-face,” Lyra said, as she sat down on her haunches. “Sure, there was the whole Symphony thing, but I don’t think we’ve actually introduced ourselves.”

Greengrass sighed. He finished his drink, setting the empty cup back on the table before looking at the unicorn. “Miss Heartstrings,” he said, “I am not really in the mood right now to discuss the past. So could we just pretend that you’ve said your piece, implied threats, and move on?”

Lyra blinked, as Greengrass turned and walked back to the balcony, checking to make sure that Lulamoon was still where he had last seen her – and she was. Drinking at a measured pace, passing the time, occasionally glancing around, but doing nothing else.

It was maddening! It was reaching a point where he’d have to go down there and find out himself what was going on, but he’d be flying blind if he did. He wanted more to work off of than vague suppositions. Something. Anything!

“See,” Heartstrings said, trotting up to Greengrass, “it’s actually mostly because you’ve spent most of the last three hours staring at my friend that we’re here; me and Bon Bon would really prefer to be dancing and having fun, but we can’t really just let that slide.”

“Trixie has had a horrible past few days,” Bon Bon continued. “Just…just once, just for tonight, could you leave her alone?”

Greengrass raised an eyebrow at the earth pony mare, looking her over before doing likewise to Lyra. “And what makes you think that I had anything to do with that?” he asked.

Heartstrings’ and Bon Bon’s faces both lost expression. “She told us,” the unicorn deadpanned. “About your meeting with her. About everything to did to keep her running around and not getting aid for Ponyville.”

“Ah,” Greengrass objected, raising a hoof, “I think you will find that I had nothing at all to do with that point. The REMM is run by viceroy Night Light, and I am not part of its decision-making committee, nor any organ attached to it. I had nothing to do with Ponyville being denied aid for as long as it was, and if Miss Lulamoon had reached Night Light sooner, there would have been no change at all.”

“That’s splitting hairs and you know it,” Heartstrings said. “It almost makes it worse. You didn’t have anything to gain.”

“I disagree,” Greengrass objected, stepping past the two ponies, “but that is neither here nor there, Miss Heartstrings. I have things I must attend to. Good night.”

“It’s not going to happen,” Heartstrings called after Greengrass. The duke paused, sighed, and turned around, looking back to the unicorn. Lyra was eyeing him. “We’re not going to ever ‘side’ with you, or any member of the Night Court. Not me, not Trixie, none of us Elements. We just want to live our lives. And if we have to protect Equestria, we will. But we’re never going to be pawns in any of your schemes.”

Greengrass stared a moment, before chuckling, walking back up to Heartstrings and leaning in close. “That’s what they all say, Miss Heartstrings,” he said in a low voice. “But I’ve been playing the Game for some time now. And I have learned that inside each and every one of us there’s a little niggling weed of blackness just waiting to boil up to the surface. For more than a few of us,” he looked past Heartstrings, and down at Lulamoon again, “it’s already sprouted.” He stepped away from the unicorn. “Lulamoon is vainglorious and arrogant. She has had the smallest taste of real power from the Princess before Corona returned, and she let it go to her head as easily as she lets her bourbon do so. She is a joke in the Night Court for her exploits, for her inelegant attempts at political maneuvering. An almost comforting joke, as it shows that the Princess can make mistakes just like the rest of us.

“But now that Lulamoon is the Element of Magic? Oh, she hasn’t done anything yet, but she will. It’s her nature. Her weakness. She can’t help but play the Game – and she won’t help but be inept at it, either. And when she has brought herself and everypony around her to ruin, what then?”

“This isn’t a game,” Bon Bon objected.

Greengrass smiled. “Maybe not. But I intend to win it, anyway. Good night, Miss Bon Bon, Miss Heartstrings.”

Greengrass turned and left, heedless of any attempt on the couple’s part to stop him. He needed to talk face-to-face with Lulamoon, to see her up close, to figure out what she thought she was up to. Was Blueblood giving her direction now, perhaps? The viscount had shown flashes of insight in the past. Yes, that had to be it – Lulamoon was now Blueblood’s pawn, and –

Greengrass stopped when he saw a certain blue-coated alicorn approach him. Luna, despite being dressed like a commoner but for her simple black crown, still managed to convey a sense of royalty and dignity about her as she trotted towards the duke, her wings fluttering to signal that the trail of ponies following her should leave her be for the moment.

Greengrass had already spoken to the Princess at the start of the Gala, of course, as was proper. They had exchanged light pleasantries, but nothing more. Even now, her face held a basically serene look on it as she approached, and he bowed.

“Greengrass,” she said, “I wonder if I might have a word with you in private?”

It wasn’t really a request – Princesses didn’t really make requests, even if their words were phrased as such. The duke bowed again in obeisance, hoping that whatever it was that Luna wanted, it would be quick so that Greengrass could get back to this Lulamoon mystery. “Of course, your Majesty.”

---

Zizanie was not a happy pony.

This did not describe her life in general. In fact, in general she was quite a happy pony. She made ludicrous amounts of money from her various clients for a job that, while by no means easy, did not require her to work long hours, nor strenuously, unless something went wrong. In effect she had most of the year ‘off,’ as it were. But right now? She was not a happy pony at all as she stomped up to Trixie Lulamoon, glaring at her. Trixie seemed to sense Zizanie’s approach and looked behind her, one eyebrow raising at the look on her fellow unicorn’s face.

“Your friends are idiots, Trixie,” Zizanie said as she sat next to Trixie on one side of the bar. The other side was empty. “Idiots or soft, I don’t know. Both. This isn’t working.”

Trixie blinked a few times as she took a measured sip from her bourbon, apparently having abandoned whatever cocktail she had been drinking at the start of the night. She tugged at one ear, head tilting to the side a little. “My friends are what? What are you talking about?” she asked.

---

Luna and Greengrass walked together out the rear doors of the ice palace, into the Courtyard beyond. They put about a hundred feet between themselves and the Gala before Luna stopped her trot, looking upwards at the stars and moon that shone brightly in the sky, though the courtyard was still dark. This was rectified promptly, however, as Luna created a ball of blue light, and suspended it in the air over the two of them.

“Greengrass,” she said at length, before turning around. She looked tired, and disappointed. “I have heard disconcerting things about you as of late.”

The duke blinked, then bowed his head, looking Luna over. “I don’t know what you mean, Majesty,” he said.

“Indeed?” Luna asked.

Greengrass offered a smile. “Excepting if you’re referring to my attempts to gain political sway over the Elements of Harmony, of course,” he said. Luna’s lips pressed tightly together at that. Greengrass bowed. “Forgive me, Majesty,” he said. “I can understand how you might see such a thing as an inherently reprehensible act.”

Luna stared down at Greengrass, as she ruffled her wings, looking him over. “I am having a difficult time understanding how it could be anything other, Greengrass,” she said. “Perhaps you should explain.”

---

Zizanie glared at Trixie. “Okay, first?” she said. “First, that pegasus lumberjack, Raindrops, she scared away Blueblood. So no dice there. Then Night Light showed up and I was all set to use the Truth is a Scourge on him, but that wall-eyed bubble-flanked friend of your knocked it over. So fine, I think to myself. Just her eyes, probably an accident, she can't help herself. Then Cheerilee, she says she’s used the stuff already on Puissance. I don’t know if I believe her, though…because that farmer, Carrot Top? She went and drank the glass I’d poisoned for Mounty and Fragrant!”

Trixie opened her mouth, raising a hoof, before pausing. “They’ve never really done anything like this before,” she said, setting her drink on the bar. “I guess I can see how everypony involved might be squeamish. They’re not part of the Night Court’s infrastructure like you or me.”

“They agreed to this plan, Trixie,” Zizanie said. “So did I, though stars know why. But if they don’t have the guts to follow through then all I’m doing is wasting my time.”

Trixie grimaced. “Look, I never thought this would be easy – ”

“It is easy!” Zizanie exclaimed. “All this stupid plan is, is just dropping a few doses of truth poison into some drinks. How hard is that? I managed to get Fisher and Greengrass!”

---

“…Actually, maybe that isn’t right,” Pinkie said. “If I had stripped the old orange paint, rather than just paint over it, then that old paint might’ve been the blood of the room, and then the metaphor would’ve worked.” Without thinking about it, Pinkie took the glass of punch from Blueblood and drank it down. She wasn’t being malicious in doing so, though, Blueblood realized. She was actually quite friendly. Though that may have been the quarter-bottle of straight vodka talking.

He hadn’t wanted straight vodka, but Pinkie kept drinking his punch that he’d been intending to mix with it.

“The way I see it,” Blueblood said, “the way I see it…since the paint on your hooves was new paint, it’s…it’s more like you’d given Orange Room new blood.”

“New blood?” Pinkie asked.

“New.” Blueblood said. Some distant part of his mind registered that he apparently could not hold his vodka, though he might have been doing better had he eaten more before coming to the Gala.

Pinkie brightened. “Rather than shedding his old blood!” she exclaimed. “So instead of having murdered the room, it was like I had given him too much life, and it had overwhelmed him with its unbearable liveliness!”

Blueblood sympathized.

---

“…And, of course, leaving all that aside,” Greengrass finished, “the fact is that Equestria is currently protected from the Tyrant Sun, your Majesty, by six mares from a town on the edge of our nation with no political standing whatsoever.” Greengrass bowed his head. “I…I am sorry if I come across as aggressive, Majesty. But with the fate of Equestria hanging in the balance, how can I not be?”

Luna still looked disappointed. “You should have more faith in them, Greengrass,” she said. “And in my apprentice.”

Greengrass put on his best sympathetic smile at that. “With respect, Majesty,” he said, “I feel you…you may have erred in taking on Lulamoon. She has done very little other than embarrass herself and, by extension, you. The last ice palace, for example, or that business with Baron Flouting.”

Luna looked to Greengrass. “She means well, Greengrass.”

“As do we all, Majesty,” Greengrass said, bowing. “And I have no doubt that she is still trying her hardest. But I do not believe there is a pony in the entire Night Court who is entirely comfortable with the knowledge that Trixie Lulamoon is the Element of Magic. Indeed we don’t even know what being the Element of Magic actually means for Trixie. It is the ambiguity that frightens us.

“So, yes, Majesty. I will admit that I have been trying to gain political sway over the Elements. But not for my own desires – for the good of Equestria.”

---

“Could you repeat that?” Trixie asked.

Zizanie shook her head. “I got Fisher and Greengrass myself. Point of fact at this point I think you should use that fancy little earring of yours – don’t think I don’t know about it – to tell your friends to back off and just let me work. Then maybe we can get something done in time for midnight.”

Trixie blinked. “You want to poison the Night Court yourself,” she said.

“To be frank I probably have. I spiked the punch – all of it, I think. But can’t be sure unless I see them drink it. So, yes, Trixie, I want to poison the Night Court myself.”

Trixie stared for a long moment – then smiled as she stepped back from the bar and spread her front hooves wide. Her horn glowed bright blue, and then there was a slight blue flash as a cloud of blue smoke appeared from nowhere. The smoke roiled off whatever it was covering immediately, dissipating into nothingness within seconds, the invisibility spell – for that was what it was – dispelled by Trixie.

And Zizanie found herself face-to-face with a white-coated, blue maned stallion who looked suspiciously like Shining Armor, Captain of the Canterlot Royal Guard.

---

“If the ambiguity of the Elements’ position worries you, Greengrass,” Luna said, “then you won’t have to worry much longer. I intend to rectify the situation tonight at dinner. As for the rest…I do believe that you are genuinely acting with the best interests of Equestria as your primary goal.”

“My only goal, Princess, I promise you that.”

---

“Maybe that’s what life was all about, in the end,” Pinkie said. Blueblood had drank another shot of the vodka, and Pinkie had tried some, and now she was at last beginning to slow down in what she said – though not much. She was a philosophical drunk, it seemed. “Accepting loss and change and finding a way to work around it and move on.”

“Maybe,” Blueblood concurred. He’d find Pinkie’s tirade very deep and profound if he had thought that he’d remember it come morning. Given the speed at which the vodka was disappearing, that seemed unlikely.

---

“What?” Zizanie exclaimed. She didn’t even try to keep her voice down as she backed away from Shining Armor – right into a pair of Night Guards. Her horn glowed, but Shining Armor reacted just a fraction faster. Her horn was suddenly encased in a pink field of energy, and no magic would penetrate it.

All around, various ponies were looking on in interest.

Trixie rose from her bow – she had actually bowed. “I said I wanted to take down the Night Court, Z,” she said, a wide grin on her face. “But I’m not going to do that by bribing or blackmail. That’s what got it into the state it’s in in the first place.” She pointed a hoof at Zizanie. “You’re not part of the solution. You’re part of the problem.”

“This is entrapment!” Zizanie exclaimed.

“Actually,” Shining Armor put in, as he stood, “it’s a sting. Entrapment is coercing you to do something you wouldn’t otherwise, but we both know that’s not the case.” Shining Armor looked around at the ponies who were staring in. “Move along, folks, nothing to see here…”

Trixie’s grin grew wide indeed. “Pony like you, Zizanie…how many members of the Night Court have you worked for? How much dirt is under your hooves? That’s what I was after. That was my plan.” Trixie held up her two front hooves. “I’m sorry, it was the only way. Except I’m not really all that sorry.”

---

“Nevertheless,” Luna continued, “I want you to stay away from Trixie and the other Elements. I want you to show some trust in my choice of apprentice. Trixie is stronger than you know.”

Greengrass hid a scowl. No she wasn’t. Greengrass had seen a dozen ponies like Trixie. Arrogant, abrasive, vainglorious…the Night Court was full of them, and Trixie had an ego to match any three of them combined. They had no understanding of the stakes of the Game, no appreciation for its nuances. Even Luna seemed content to merely drift through the centuries as nothing more than an observer, a nearly useless, ineffectual leader.

The Night Court is a game, and I intend to win, he thought.

---

Zizanie sneered at Trixie. “You forgot something,” she hissed. “I spiked the punch bowl. I wonder how many ponies here have had a drink tonight?”

Shining Armor’s horn glowed, encasing Zizanie’s entire body in a second pink globe, even as the first one around her horn remained in place. “Your horn is out of commission,” he observed.

Zizanie closed her eyes, grinning wickedly. She took in a deep breath, put a hoof to Shining Armor’s bubble…then simply pushed forward and through it with no apparent effort. Once free, she shook her head, and the globe around her horn was thrown off like it was nothing more than a child’s hoof ball. Her entire body was glowing with jagged, chaotic magic.

Zizanie opened her eyes. Both had become tiger-slitted and red as she looked at a stunned Trixie and Shining Armor. “I don’t need my horn to do magic,” she said. Then she whinneyed, rising up, and stomped on the ground.

There was a burst of magic.

---

“Do I have your word on this, Greengrass?” Luna asked.

Greengrass bowed. “Of course, your Majesty – ”

There was a burst of magic.

“You useless cow.”

13. The Castigation of the Night Court

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“The ‘flapjack,’” Pinkie said indignantly. She was a little red in the face at this point, though not from her indignation, but rather the vodka that she seemed to have taken a liking to. “What is a flapjack? It’s a pancake! Flapjack was just, just some jerk waiter who got an idea to try and steal the thunder from this delicious breakfast classic!”

“Quite right,” Blueblood agreed. Pinkie did nothing halfway. He was tipsy, she was moving into full drunk territory already – although only her balance seemed affected, not her lucidity. She was half-leaning on Blueblood – or was he half-leaning on her? – but her mouth still moved at a mile a minute.

“Is there anything that would differentiate a flapjack from a pancake? Let's think, what do you put on flapjacks, topping wise…syrup, the same exact syrup that you put on pancakes! That’s why it’s called pancake syrup! Never once have I – ” Blueblood’s horn tingled as he felt a surge of magic, though he didn’t know from where, “ – heard someone refer to it as ‘flapjack sauce’ seriously it’s a pancake it’s in a pan it’s essentially a basic cake-ish recipe pancake I understand…”

She continued ranting as Blueblood and she trotted towards the door, intent on ignoring the ruckus going on around himself and his new best pony in favor of going back to his apartments in the castle and seeing where the night went from there. Probably, with him passed out before it could get truly interesting.

“…a flapjack has some kind of tie into the great North Equestrian past time of lumberjacking so I will make an exception that if you are one of the remaining lumberjacks on the continent fine in your logging camp only you may refer to them as flapjacks…”

That was, at least, until a monster came from nowhere and landed in front of him. A monster that, nevertheless, seemed to be very familiar.

“Zizanie?” he asked.

“…but don’t show up on my local pancake pub and start throwing out your lumberjacking slang…”

---

There was a moment of silence after Greengrass’ words, as Luna stared at him with wide, puzzled eyes, and he stared back with an expression a thousand times more shocked than that. His outburst had actually banished thought from his mind for the briefest instant of panic – but of course, it did not last.

“Oooooh Stars did I really just say that I was only thinking it I didn’t mean to say it what am I doing I’m saying everything out loud in front of the Princess everything I’m thinking everything I’m thinking oh no Luna I really do think you’re a useless cow but I don’t want you to know that – ”

The words poured from his mouth of their own accord, and there was nothing he could do to stop them. Even as he put his hooves to his mouth to try and stop himself, his mouth kept working. Finally, he did the only thing he could – he turned and ran. He didn’t get far, however, as he found himself wrapped in a midnight-blue aura, lifted up, and floated back to the Princess, who turned him around.

“ – put me down you worthless figurehead oh Stars I just called Luna a worthless figurehead why can’t I stop talking and telling the truth try to lie try to lie I can’t lie why can’t I lie – ”

“You appear to be under the effects of a truth poison, Duke Greengrass,” Luna said, setting the duke down and making her horn glow brighter.

“ – I can see that you idiot and I need you to let go of me before I tell you about how I want to reduce your power to nothing and run Equestria and make it perfect oooh no I didn’t want to say that – ”

Greengrass turned around, trying to run again. Luna turned him back around, however. “If you run, Greengrass, I won’t be able to find a way to counter it,” she said. Her voice and expression betrayed no emotion, but her wings were spread wide and fluttering in annoyance – and her ears were perked and pointed forward – she was listening to every word he said. All this made him do was panic, and think of the things that he did not want to say, did not want Luna to know – and as he thought of them, his mouth translated them into sound, and Luna learned everything. Every plot. Every plan. Every thought he had on her rulership.

Everything.

“ – this is a truth poison you can’t use this in any kind of court or trial it’s illegal and not admissible as evidence – ”

“I am aware,” Luna said, as her magic washed over him. “It’s a very stubborn truth poison, too…but I believe that I have found a counter – ”

Luna was interrupted by the sound of a roar and great crash from within the ice palace, and sounds of ponies shouting, and flashes of light. She turned to look at the ice palace, regarding it for several moments, before starting forward. “Come along, your Grace,” she said, heading towards the Gala and telekinetically bringing the Duke with her – despite his repeated, loud objections.

---

At first, as Zizanie’s spell washed over the Gala, there was nothing. The nothing lasted for only a fraction of a second. Then ponies started talking – whether they wanted to or not.

“ – stars above, you’re fat – ”

“ – that’s because it was me who framed you – ”

“ – really she should have known better banishment was what she deserved – ”

“ – if you don’t give me what I want you’ll regret – ”

“ – wish I was anywhere else but with you – ”

“ – featherbrains and mudponies the lot of you – ”

“Oh no I had punch too – ” Trixie began as the whole of the Gala descended into chaos. It took only a few seconds as ponies realized they were saying things they didn’t want to, panicked, and all tried to run away from whomever they had been talking to – which resulted in them running into other ponies, spouting off more words, and panicking even more. Within seconds the two Night Guards that had been closing in on Zizanie were overrun by panicked ponies, shoved aside as the lithe pony ducked into the chaos, moving effortlessly out of Trixie’s sight.

Trixie’s horn flashed, as she performed the counter-spell, shutting off the Truth is a Scourge. There was wave of blue magic, and everypony fell silent – but it didn’t last more than a moment as a flash of purple, from somewhere in the chaos, set it off again.

Trixie grimaced. She couldn’t stop the chaos – not as long as Zizanie could just turn the truth poison back on. She instead turned her magic inwards, switching off her own truth poison as she looked to Shining Armor. He had one hoof to his mouth, speaking into a gemstone – a communications node of his own, like Trixie’s enchanted ear clasp. He finished and looked to Trixie, evidently having not had any truth poison that night, either. “I’ve closed the exits and got Night Guards on them,” he shouted to her over the din. “But I can’t keep them closed for long, there’s too many ponies in a panic! Somepony could get hurt!”

Trixie grimaced. “Give me three minutes!” Trixie responded. She also had to shout right into Shining Armor’s ear to be heard. “If we can’t find her by then, then she’s gone! And I’m sorry, I didn’t expect this to happen – ”

“No plan survives contact with the enemy,” Shining Armor assured her. “Just don’t let Zizanie get away!”

She flashed him a smile before shooting off into the crowd, looking around. She touched a hoof to her hear. “Okay!” she called in. “Raindrops! Ditzy! Fly and try to find me!”

The numerous pegasi of in the Gala were already in the air in panic, of course, but it was much easier to spot two pegasi in the air amongst other pegasi, then it was to spot them on the ground amidst ponies of all tribes. Trixie saw the two waving at her, each of their mouths moving at a mile a minute and their eyes wide with panic even as they closed in on Trixie. She sent a burst of magic to each of them, and their mouths stopped moving.

“What’s happening?” Raindrops demanded, as she and Ditzy flew near to Trixie. They couldn’t land, not amidst the crush of ponies moving all around Trixie.

“Zizanie spiked the punch with truth poison!” Trixie declared. “She’s…she’s somewhere in here, but I don’t know where! We’ve got maybe two and a half minutes to find her before Shining Armor has to let everypony leave!”

Ditzy’s eyes had somehow become wider at Trixie’s explanation, and she looked away, over towards the play-area full of foals. Several of the foals had their mouths moving rapidly and looked panicked – Dinky wasn’t one of them, she saw, but her daughter was moving amongst them, trying to keep them calm while trying to also hide her own panic, as was one of the Night Guards Luna had stationed there. The other was nowhere in sight, presumably having run off to close an exit.

“Okay!” Ditzy said. “What do we do?”

Trixie’s mind was whirling. “Ditzy, take me up!” She said, as she touched a hoof to her ear. “Cheerilee, Lyra, look around for Zizanie, I’m going to try and spot her magically! Carrot Top, I don’t know how that mixing is going but if you can hear me, get back to the Gala! We need help!” Trixie looked at Raindrops. “The second I find Zizanie – ”

“Oh, don’t worry, I figured out my part,” Raindrops interrupted, cracking her fetlocks as Ditzy grabbed Trixie about her barrel, taking her into the air and trying to avoid all the pegasi already flying around in a panic. Trixie closed her eyes for a few moments as her horn glowed, then opened them again. They were now glowing bright blue as she regarded all the ponies around and beneath her.

One of the first spells that Trixie had learned, her ability to see magic was almost as good as Luna’s. She could look at not just the stored, raw magic of unicorns, the way any unicorn who knew the detect magic cantrip could – she could also see the flowing, ingrained magic of pegasi and earth ponies, and other races as well. Even better, everypony had a sort of magical signature tied into their very being – Trixie could use her ability to see magic to find Zizanie, she suspected. She didn’t think it would be easy.

It was.

For amidst the stored, glowing pink of the unicorns, the subdued yet powerful green magic of the earth ponies, and the wavy, flowing blue magic of the pegasi currently in the air, there was a trail of jagged, broken, red magic the likes of which Trixie had never seen before. The magic curled and twisted around on itself, getting caught in knots that would then dissolve into nothingness. It reached out ahead of itself and behind itself, twitching, pulsing, shifting without form or reason – but in the center of it all…

Trixie blinked, cancelling her magic sight, and found herself looking at a green unicorn in a mint dress – but the unicorn’s mouth wasn’t moving, her eyes were an unnatrual red and tiger-slit, and she didn’t look panicked, like everypony else – like Trixie herself – but instead she appeared determined, looking for a chance not to simply get out, but to escape. She looked around and up, at Trixie, her eyes flashed with recognition –

“There!” Trixie cried out, pointing. Raindrops was off in a moment. She was not a fast flier by any means, but even she could cover less than a hundred feet faster than a pony could gallop.

Not quite fast enough, however, for a pony to not be able to respond. Zizanie ducked Raindrops’ blow, her disguise falling off of her in a cloud of magic as she did, distracting Raindrops. She lashed out with a hind hoof as Raindrops passed overhead, her blow connecting solidly with the pegasus – but Raindrops took the blow easily, grabbing Zizanie’s hoof and lifting her into the air upside-down. The unicorn cried out, horn glowing, but Trixie sent a telekinetic burst at it, nulling its magic for a moment as she and Ditzy closed in.

That was when it happened again – jagged, chaotic magic lept from Zizanie’s entire form, and she shifted – Trixie wasn’t sure how, but somehow Zizanie was now being held by one of her front hooves instead of one of her hind ones. Raindrops almost dropped her in shock, and when Zizanie lashed out with her tiger’s paw –

“What?” Trixie demanded, as Raindrops tumbled away in the air, bright red, though shallow, scratches across her cheek, having dropped what Trixie was beginning to suspect was not a unicorn at all. Zizanie landed on three hooves, while her right foreleg was now like that of a tiger.

The not-unicorn looked at her own paw in almost horror, before glaring at Trixie and turning around, running, her movement lopsided thanks to her odd appendage. Ditzy was after her in a moment, as was Raindrops again, with Trixie along for the ride. Trixie’s horn glowed, conjuring an image of Shining Armor right in front of Zizanie, his horn glowing as he charged her. Zizanie bought the illusion, crying out and turning, right as Ditzy let Trixie fall a few feet to the ground and closed in on Zizanie, hooves outstretched and colliding with the not-unicorn’s face. She rolled with the blow, however, letting herself fall before striking once more with chaotic magic that wrapped around and suffused Ditzy. The gray pegasus cried out as she tumbled from the air, wings having vanished, disappearing into a swarm of moths that shot up and into the air.

Trixie’s eyes widened at the sight – she had forgotten that Zizanie could do that – but they no sooner had when Ditzy’s wings reappeared, whole and healthy. However powerful this chaos magic was, it apparently was not very stable or long-lasting. They had that going for them, at least.

Zizanie had gotten up to run again, but stumbled – her other front hoof had changed appearance, becoming long and furred, ending with a hand, like that of some kind of monkey. “Gah!” The not-unicorn cried out, stopping her run. She turned her eyes on Trixie, chaotic magic swirling around her once more even as a single gossamer wing, like that of a moth, sprouted from her back. “Look at what you’re making me do…!”

Trixie dodged the burst of chaos magic that lashed out from Zizanie’s horn. It collided with a Gala-guest behind her, and the earth pony glowed, shivered, and shrank, suddenly finding himself to be a foal no more than a year or two old.

Trixie stared in disbelief even as the age spell wore off and the pony found himself full-sized again, before looking back at Zizanie. The not-unicorn shouted at her as her single moth wing spread wide, while her tail transformed into one that was short, scaled, and heavy, ending with a club like that of some prehistoric beast. Her horn had been joined by an antenna, and her right hind leg, though still basically pony-shaped, was now black and made of chitin, with several holes in it.

“What are you?” Trixie asked.

“Draconequus she’s a draconequus I thought they were just legends – ” A voice from beside Trixie came. She looked, and saw Lyra and Cheerilee, their mouths moving under the effects of the truth poison – she sent a magical burst at Lyra, stopping the effects of the truth poison on her. Lyra offered her a nod of thanks, even as the barest sense of order came to the Gala – in that ponies were backing away from Zizanie. “She’s a draconequus,” Lyra said, horn glowing as she summoned her lyre to her sie. “A kind of chimera, basically, but their body parts could be anything…”

The former unicorn glared hatred at Lyra’s words. “I’m not,” she said, though she almost sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “I’m a pony. There may be a little spark of chaos in me, but I am a pony!”

As she shouted this, she threw her monkey paw forward, fingers on it spread wide. A gout of flame lashed out at Lyra. Cheerilee reacted first, jumping and pushing Lyra out of the way and ducking beneath the fire herself. When she came up, her mane and tail were a little singed, but that was all. “Okay,” Trixie said. She had used Zizanie’s momentary distraction to turn herself invisible, even as she created a half-dozen illusory copies of herself. “So how do we get her?”

Cheerilee smiled a little as she scuffed the ice palace’s floor with one hoof. “A good solid buck to the face, I think,” she said, charging. Ditzy and Raindrops followed, while Lyra and Trixie hung back – even as Trixie sent her illusions forward – horns glowing and ready to try and counter any spells Zizanie cast.

Zizanie’s moth wing flared at the rush – but, rather than stand and take it, she turned and ran. Her moth wing battered aside Ditzy when the gray pegasus tried to tackle her from the sky, while she lept and spun in place at Raindrops’ own charge, avoiding an incoming hoof-stomp and responding with a solid push from her monkey paw that knocked Raindrops from the air, though she was up in moments and closed in with a series of quick hoof stomps that put Zizanie on the retreat even as Cheerilee vaulted over her – unfortunately, forgetting her club tail. The tail swung and struck Cheerilee on her barrel; she rolled with it, but still went tumbling away into the crowd of ponies that had by now left panic far behind and had entered a state concern that had yet to be given a word in the Equestrian tongue.

Trixie’s illusory copies were on Zizanie then, but the not-pony didn’t buy them for a moment, bringing her forelegs around in a wide arc and dispelling all of them before jagged chaos magic again struck out at Lyra. Trixie pushed her out of the way, and found herself subject to the chaos magic’s effects.

It was wrong, plain and simple – sharp and invasive, seeming to take a special dislike to her entire being and how ordered it was. It rendered Trixie partially visible again – partially, in that one could see her muscles and bones and veins for a few brief, horrifying seconds as Trixie wondered if she’d been flayed alive. But the chaos magic was also short – even as Trixie wondered how her blood was staying in her body, her skin and coat and Gala dress re-appeared, having been rendered selectively invisible, not removed.

Lyra had picked herself up. She dragged her hooves across her lyre in a series of short, quick notes aimed at Zizanie, finishing with a chord that sent reverberations across the Gala and shattered the nearby glass. It struck Zizanie square on, and she stumbled away. Even as she did, however, chaos magic seized Lyra’s lyre, and she suddenly found herself gripping a living swordfish as big as she was. Lyra fell under its weight and its confused gyrations before her lyre returned to normal. She was up again in a moment, as Trixie recovered from the shock of seeing her own insides, and charged forward.

Zizanie avoided Raindrops’ and Cheerilee’s blows both before sweeping both out with her tail. She turned around, saw that only Ditzy and a pair of Night Guards were between her and the nearest door, and again struck out with chaos magic. The Night Guards were turned into fluttering, confused fruit bats, while Ditzy suddenly grew forty feet tall – more than large enough for Zizanie to charge beneath her legs, reach the door –

The door flew open, inwards, having been bucked open by an orange earth pony in a rush to get into the Gala – Carrot Top, panting heavily, for though she was more than used to hard work, she wasn’t used to galloping halfway across a city to get somewhere in a rush. The door collided with Zizanie’s face, sending the not-unicorn spinning away and landing in a crouch, eyes spinning. Carrot Top took one look at her, drew her own conclusions, and lept at the not-unicorn, bucking Zizanie in her chest and sending her sprawling on the floor.

Zizanie shook her head from the blow, got up, and saw Trixie bearing down on her. Zizanie roared, chaos magic lashing out again – and passing harmlessly through the illusion. Her eyes had just enough time to grow wide as the real Trixie, invisible and right beside her, bucked her solidly in the side of her head, and her world went dark.

---

Luna entered the ice palace – dragging a ranting Greengrass behind her – and found a scene of utter panic and chaos. Everypony was shouting and screaming at the top of their lungs, pegasi flitted through the air in a panic, Shining Armor was coordinating Night Guards to protect the entrances to the ice palace to keep somepony from escaping, and, on the far side of the room, near the main entrance, Luna saw her apprentice Trixie become visible after having just bucked what looked suspiciously like a draconequus square in her face, though the being’s non-equine parts seemed to slough off of her and disappear as she fell into unconsciousness, leaving behind a white unicorn mare with a purple mane.

The Princess of the Night frowned as she beat her wings, taking into the air and landing on the second floor of the Gala, horn glowing brightly. This truth poison had been a tough nut to crack, but after a few minutes of examining Greengrass, she’d been able to find a counter-spell, and it took only a few moments to modify the counter in her mind to apply to a mass of ponies. Her horn flashed, and she sent a wave of silvery, selenic magic out from her being. The light washed over and purged each and every pony of the truth poison – save one. Even as the rest of the Gala fell silent faster than Luna had ever seen ponies quiet down before, Greengrass’ mouth still worked.

“ – finally you’re dispelling it wait I’m still talking why am I still talking you useless cow what are you doing every one of these worthless ponies can hear me what are you going to do let me keep talking ‘til I say how I want to see each and every one of these sycophants locked away in dungeons and forgotten about while I take over the country and run it because you’re useless – ”

Luna let Greengrass continue for a few more seconds in the silence, before looking at him. “Ah,” she said. “My apologies, Duke Greengrass, I appear to have missed you.” Her horn glowed, and with a light touch of magic, the truth poison was purged from his body, too.

Greengrass’ mouth clamped shut as he stared at Luna, with wide eyes. “You – but – I – ” he stuttered.

“Not to worry, Duke Greengrass,” Luna said, offering a beatific smile. “As you said, nothing said while under truth poison is admissible in a court of law.”

Greengrass’ eyes somehow grew wider. “This – that’s…that’s not right! That’s not – ” He backed away from Luna. “That’s…but I was going to…to win the Game…just wanted to enjoy…this isn’t…this isn’t fun anymore!”

Greengrass turned and ran, barreling past ponies as he charged for the nearest door. Several Night Guards moved to block him, but an outstretched hoof from Luna saw to it that he was allowed to pass without incident through the door, out into Canterlot.

Luna watched him go impassively, before looking back to the Gala and, specifically, her apprentice, who was with Shining Armor even as the Night Guards procured an anti-magic ring and slipped it around Zizanie’s horn. Luna was honestly not sure, however, if that would have any effect on the Discordian’s – for that was surely what she was, to have reverted to looking like a normal pony once out cold – chaos magic.

“Captain Shining Armor and my Night Guards,” Luna said, looking around. “See to the needs of the ponies here, make sure nopony is hurt. Look after the foals first – ”

“We’re okay!” One foal called out – Scepter, if Luna was correct, Vicereine Puissance’s great-grandcolt, who was a combination of too young and too hopped up on adrenaline to care about interrupting the Princess, even as the foals were quickly joined by their parents, most of whom looked far worse for wear then their children. “A little scared, but okay!”

Luna breathed out a visible sigh of relief at that, though she didn’t otherwise respond to the foal other than to nod. “Needless to say, the rest of the Gala will be cancelled,” Luna told the participants in the event, as she took flight, flying over to Trixie and her friends. “I must ask for everypony here to remain while the Night Guard ascertains what happened and if anypony needs immediate help, then you may leave. I ask for patience for just a little bit.”

Luna landed in front of Trixie. Once everypony else in the Gala had turned around, checking on each other and making sure that everything was alright – while more than a few looked thoroughly embarrassed and mortified at what they had said during the chaos of the truth poison, Archduke Fisher in particular being given a wide berth by all the earth ponies and pegasi in the room.

Satisfied that the panic was over, Luna looked to Trixie. “Tread very, very carefully, I believe I said,” she said in a low voice. “This Gala was more delicate than most. I have a distinct memory of this, Trixie.”

Trixie wilted a little under Luna’s gaze. “I…I tried, Princess – ”

“She did,” Raindrops said, stepping forward, as did all of Trixie’s friends. “We didn’t know that Zizanie was a…what was it?”

“A draconequus,” Lyra said. “I thought they were myth…”

“But we didn’t know,” Carrot Top said. “Please, don’t blame Trixie, your Majesty. It’s Zizanie’s fault…and everything worked out in the end! Right?”

Luna looked between Trixie’s friends, before letting out a tired sigh, shaking her head. “You are right, of course,” she said. “Goodness knows that I have had plans blow up in my face in the past…” Luna looked to Lyra. “She is not a draconequus, I assure you. She is a Discordian. There is a seed of chaos within her, and a potent one, but apart from that seed, she is a normal pony.”

“She’s coming to!” One of the Night Guards at Zizanie’s side warned.

The Night Guards both took up ready postures as Zizanie’s eyes fluttered open, as did Trixie and her friends. Zizanie opened her eyes, tried to stand, but found herself being held down by several Night Guards. She looked around, her eyes settled on Luna, and she froze. “Oh no,” she whispered.

Luna frowned as she stepped forward. “Zizanie, isn’t it?” she asked. Her frown deepened. “Poisoning the Night Court…that is high treason. One of the very few crimes in Equestria that still is still punishable by death if the crime is heinous enough. Certainly you can expect to go to jail for the rest of your natural life.”

Zizanie’s eyes widened at that for a moment, before narrowing. She moved into a sitting position, something the Night Guard only let her do with a nod from Luna. “I don’t think so,” she said. “Oh, I’m going to go to jail, but I think you’ll go easy on me.”

Luna blinked at that. “Oh?” she asked.

Zizanie waved a hoof at Luna, beckoning her closer. Luna considered a moment, before leaning in, listening as Zizanie whispered six words into Luna’s ear.

The Discordian unicorn jumped when Luna laughed. Well, not laughed, but chuckled, as she stepped back from Zizanie. “I am afraid,” she said, “that your information is a little out of date. Princess Cadenza knows that she is my daughter. She has for some months now.”

“Wait, what?” Zizanie exclaimed, eyes wide. Her sentiment was echoed by Trixie and her friends – save Ditzy, of course – and, despite themselves, by the Night Guards that flanked Zizanie.

Luna nodded. The surest way to defeat blackmail was to expose the information on one’s own terms. “Cadance and I have been trying to think of a way to break it to the general public,” she said. “Our current thinking is for me to do it at her thousandth birthday next year. But I know that Cadance would not want me to let somepony use that information to try and control my actions.” She looked down at Zizanie, though she was addressing everypony who had heard her. “Although, having said that, I am equally certain that she would not want the surprise to be ruined unless it had to be. Cadance and I can long outlive any scandal, but that does not mean we wish to.”

Zizanie stared at Luna a moment more, before looking down at her hooves, eyes wide. She had probably thought that her six words – “I know Cadenza is your daughter” – would save her from prison or worse. She had been mistaken, and now her smug attitude had been replaced by despair.

Luna thought of all that she had heard due the truth poison’s effects, however, from Greengrass – and the snippets she had heard upon entering the Gala as well. And no matter the crime, she did not wish to leave a pony at the mercy of the hangpony’s noose, not when there was some way for them to at least begin to make up for their crimes. The entire point of capturing Zizanie had, after all, been to find a way to learn the full extent of the crimes of the Night Court…

The Princess reached out a hoof, tilting Zizanie’s chin up so that the pony was looking her in the eyes. “However,” Luna said, her horn glowing. Her eyes glowed white, as did Zizanie’s –

---

Zizanie opened her eyes. She wasn’t in the Gala anymore. She wasn’t anywhere anymore. As she looked around, she saw nothing but blackness in all directions – blackness, and herself.

She wasn’t alone for long. Just as Zizanie stood, Luna was there, right in front of her, looking down at the pony with a look of disappointment and concern.

Zizanie stared back. “Where are we?” she asked.

“Your mind,” Luna said. “My mind…both, in a sense. This is but a dream. Normally there would be some sort of dreamscape, but I feel we could do without the distractions.”

Zizanie recoiled at Luna’s words. “Get out of my head!” she screamed, backing away from Luna.

Luna held up one hoof. “I’m not really in your head,” she said. “We are conversing only. Even your surface thoughts are unknown to me. I would never invade a pony’s privacy so, not even yours – though entering this dream-state does allow us to speak in private. The only way I will learn something from you, is if you choose to give me that information.”

Luna started trotting in a long, slow circle around Zizanie. “More importantly,” she said, “hours in here are but moments outside.”

Zizanie stared at Luna. “So what?” she asked. “Are you going to, what, trap me in here? Make me get stuck in some kind of dream limbo?”

The Princess frowned. “No,” she said.

“Then what?”

Luna considered. “The Night Court,” Luna said. “I want you to tell me everything you know about what goes on behind my back – about your trade in secrets and lies, and who it is you are trading those secrets and lies with.”

Zizanie glared at Luna. “You want me to sell out.”

“Yes.”

“No. No! No way! I do that and my reputation is ruined – ”

“Do you honestly believe you have a career as a saboteur after what has happened tonight? Is your clients’ secrecy truly worth life imprisonment and dying for?”

Zizanie blanched at that. The alicorn of the Moon had a point – she was caught. She had no chance. And she owed nopony anything, really, certainly not enough to risk being hanged over. She looked at Luna. “I want to be sent to a medium security prison,” she said. “I want to – ”

Luna’s frown deepened, and held up a hoof. “I am afraid you have the wrong impression, Zizanie,” she said. “This is not a negotiation. You will tell me what I want to know, and then I will help you in whatever way I see fit. Certainly I will see to it that you do not face capital punishment, but I make no further promises. Or, you will not tell me what I want to know, and so I will not help you, and the court that you are set before will judge you as they see fit. Those are your choices.”

Zizanie began to rail at that, at how unfair that was, about what Luna could do with her ultimatum and where she should stick it. Even as she did, however, a change overcame Luna. It was nothing grand or overt – but her expression became a little harder, her muscles a little more tense, her eyes just slightly narrower, her wings raised just slightly…

It occurred to Zizanie that Luna was already being incredibly merciful when she did not have to be. That she had just poisoned the entire Night Court – never mind as part of a sting to try and capture her, as the choice had still fundamentally been hers, and she had made it. What was it that Luna had said earlier in the night? That the Night Court was fundamentally an extension of Luna herself? Meaning an attack on the Night Court was an attack on Luna – on a being more ancient, more powerful, more unfathomable than any other still free, save only Corona.

“Why would you believe anything I say?” Zizanie asked. She didn’t intend to lie. She only wanted to know how Luna could keep to her vow of not invading her mind, if she didn’t intend to verify everything she said. “How would you know if I’m lying?”

Luna’s expression grew colder somehow. “I wouldn’t, if I were you,” she said in a low voice.

Zizanie did not want to test the limits of Luna’s patience, and so considered the options in front of her. She didn’t want to sell out – she really, really didn’t want to, as in her business, reputation was everything. But what did she really gain by staying silent? Nothing. She would never go free from prison if she didn’t work with Luna, work with the courts, and that was assuming that she wasn’t hanged for what she had done. And when she was gone, what would her reputation mean? The only ponies who respected it would simply see her as a resource lost, and nothing more.

Luna was giving her a choice…but really, there was no choice at all. She hung her head in defeat.

“What do you want to know?”

---

To the outside world, the entire conversation – hours of it – took only a second. Zizanie stumbled slightly when the connection was broken, blinking at the sudden glare of the ice palace’s light. Her expression had changed to one of resignation. “Th…there’s more…” she mumbled absently.

Luna’s expression had shifted as well – becoming a look of cold, unforgiving anger. She stood up straight as she looked past Zizanie, and out at the Gala – the members of the Night Court in particular – with utter contempt, before looking to her Night Guards. “Wait one hour,” she said, “then I want the Night Court before the Selenic Cathedra.” The Night Guards bowed in obeisance, and Luna nodded, looking back to Zizanie. “I know there is more, Zizanie. And you will tell me all of it. And then…then I will decide what to do. I am…satisfied with our progress so far.”

Luna cantered off, Zizanie following, a faint blue glow around her – Luna keeping a telekinetic grip around the professional blackmailer, though Zizanie looked in no mood to run.

Trixie watched Luna trot away, before looking back to her friends. Ditzy had left as soon as Zizanie had been knocked out, of course, retrieving her daughter, but she was back now. “I think…I think it worked,” Trixie said. “I’ve seen Luna do that before…she can have hours-long conversations with somepony mentally in just a few seconds.”

“She looked pissed,” Raindrops noted.

Ditzy covered Dinky’s ears. “Raindrops!” she cried out. Raindrops looked suitably mollified at that, bowing her head a little in embarrassment. After a moment, Ditzy took her hooves from Dinky’s ears, and looked her straight on.

“I’m not to use that word, I know,” Dinky assured her mother. Her head tilted to the side. “What worked, though?”

“It’s…complicated,” Cheerilee told the foal. “The short version is that we were trying to get Princess Luna to act more, in order to make the Night Court a better place.”

“Hopefully we didn’t go overboard,” Carrot Top said.

---

The nobles of Equestria – the dukes and margravines, the vicereines and barons, and all the ranks in between – filed into the throne room in the small hours of the night. It was rare for Luna to call them all together like this, and none of them knew quite what to expect – especially not after the chaos that they had just been through at the Gala, the truth poison and the mad scramble to capture Zizanie before she could escape. The nobles knew that Luna had seen to Zizanie herself, and all had been about to leave the Gala finally, muttering and complaining about a ruined night, when they had received this extraordinary summons.

It quickly became known that only one pony was missing – Duke Greengrass of Caneighda. All others were in attendance, even viceroy Night Light, found in his office and brought to the throne room, and Viscount Blueblood, who was more than a little tipsy and looked like he’d be nursing quite the hangover the following morning.

The throne room was light in blue and purple lights, magically enhanced moonlight and starlight from the night sky outside. Though more than bright enough to see by, it made the shadows of the room long as the ponies arranged themselves into their familiar positions, filling the available space before the steps that lead up to the Selenic Cathedra, the throne of Equestria, carved from obsidian, cushioned with silk, and inlaid with silver and platinum, a throne that glistened in bright, silvery light. With almost every member of the Night Court in attendance, it was standing-room only as the nobility filed in.

The process was drawn out, however, as every single one of the nobles who entered the throne room paused at what they saw at the throne itself: Luna, standing rather than sitting, once more in her royal regalia with her mane and tail animate, flanked by several Night Guards – and, in front of her, her back to the Night Court but her form unmistakable to those whom had so recently been her victims, Zizanie, a ring around her horn to negate magic and manacles around her hooves to restrict movement. Further, both Luna’s and Zizanie’s eyes glowed a bright, brilliant white, the two of them staring into each other.

As the last of the nobility entered, Luna’s eyes lost their glow, as did Zizanie’s. The unicorn stumbled slightly, an expression on her face of fear, and worry – not imminent, overriding fear, however, more like she had a sense of impending doom. Luna’s own gaze hardened slightly as she regarded the unicorn, before saying something to her. Those in the Night Court who could read lips – of which there were more than a few – knew that Luna said “thank-you for your cooperation. It will be taken under consideration at your trial, as promised. You have my word that you will not face the noose.”

The expressions of those in the room who knew that Zizanie held secrets they did not want exposed – of which there were more than a few – suddenly changed to that of impending doom to match that of Zizanie as the two Night Guards on Luna’s sides directed the unicorn forward. She trotted with her head low, not looking any of the nobles in the eyes. Once she had left the throne room, the Night Guards closed the door behind them, and Luna was left alone with her Night Court.

Most amongst the nobility were doing their best to hide knowing smiles or pained looks of sympathy, as befitted their feelings on what they thought was about to happen – the public humiliation of two or three of their number from whatever Zizanie had told Luna. They expected her to open with some speech about the expectations of the Night Court, before calling out the ponies and talking them down.

They were disappointed. Luna was still – absolutely still – for several long moments, before standing. She did not speak as she descended from the Selenic Cathedra, trotting slowly yet determinedly up to the nearest noble – Vicereine Wallflower – and looking her in the eye.

More than a few ponies in the Night Court felt slight elation. A vicereine! A vicereine was going to be exposed for some crime! It meant the entire hierarchy would move and shift! The sheer change, the opportunities, would be immense!

Luna did not stop at Wallflower, however, even as the earth pony began to wilt slightly under Luna’s gaze. Luna instead trotted past each of the Night Court that had assembled to the left of the throne, looking each noble in his or her eye. Her face, previously a look of impassivity, gradually came to be one of almost stunned shock and disbelief.

Slowly – very slowly – Luna reached the end of the ponies gathered to her left. She still did not speak. She turned, trotting past them – still gazing at them – and then moved to the ponies assembled on her throne’s right. She repeated her process – slow step, looking the noble in the eye, then moving on – the whole endeavor taking five minutes, five minutes where not a pony spoke. Gradually – slowly, and with mounting horror – it began to dawn upon the nobles of the Night Court exactly what Luna had learned from Zizanie – how many of them had been betrayed by the professional blackmailer.

Luna completed her walk, and returned to near the Selenic Cathedra. She stopped in front of Archduke Fisher, looking him over in his entirety. It was as though she was comparing a photograph in her mind to the pony she saw before her – what she knew verses what she saw.

“Archduke Bobbing Fisher,” Luna said, breaking her silence at last. Her voice was calm, neutral – almost consoling, despite what she asked next. “Did you really burn down one of your own factories?”

Fisher seemed taken aback. He blinked. “Majesty, you can’t trust – ”

“Answer the question,” Luna interrupted softly. Neither her volume nor her tone shifted.

Fisher blinked. “Majesty, I…” he began. Luna stared at him – saying nothing more, doing nothing other than breathing and blinking. Almost against his will, Fisher looked away from her, no longer capable of looking her in the eyes. “Yes, Majesty.”

Luna blinked once. She leaned in slightly, opened her mouth as though about to say something – then leaned back again. She began trotting again, moving until another pony caught her eye, this one closer to her throne than any other. “Vicereine Puissance,” she said, her voice still soft and calm. “Your youngest son, Lance. Did you falsify the evidence at his trial?”

Puissance was nearly as tall as Luna, and unlike Fisher, she did not wilt. “I did not!” she objected, loudly – far louder than Luna had spoken. “And – and begging your pardon, your Majesty, but I resent the implication!”

Luna stared, unmoving. Puissance was breathing heavily, sweating all of a sudden, wings extending and retracting pensively. “I…I must insist on an apology, Majesty!” Puissance said.

The Princess stared a moment more, then trotted on. Gritting her teeth, Puissance stepped from where she was. “Majesty!” she objected. “You cannot honestly believe the lies that – ”

Luna turned around, looking to Puissance. She said nothing, she did nothing, other than gaze at Puissance with a carefully neutral expression. There was no magic, no words, nothing more than a glance, but Puissance rocked back on her hooves regardless. She bit her lip, staring a moment more, before bowing her head to the Princess, resuming her place amongst the nobility.

Luna resumed her trek. She stopped at ponies randomly, asked them a question. Sometimes vague – sometimes specific. Often they were questions of their own corruption; sometimes, they were inquiries about the crimes of others, whether they knew, whether they did anything about it. Sometimes the pony tried to deny it, even keeping to their denials after a harsh look from Luna. Others would not answer, looking away in shame. All the questions were on generally the same subject – questions about blackmail, or extortion, or bribes, or even simply looking the other way when the pony asked knew of a wrongdoing.

Duchess Posey’s reaction was the only remarkable one, for being the only one that actually elicited a reaction from Luna. She came up to the pegasus, who had already been sweating and wilting as she observed the castigation of the rest of her peers, and wondered if her turn was coming. She looked Posey in the eye, and said only two words – “a bribe?”

Posey lasted only a second, before losing her balance and falling to her knees and hocks in tears. “I…I’m sorry!” she exclaimed. “It was years ago! I…I was young and Cloudsdale needed the bill to pass and it was only once – ”

“Only once?” Luna asked, the ghost of a smile on her face, a slight trace of incredibly inappropriate mirth in her voice. “Only once? That is a great relief, Duchess Posey, that you are pony of such integrity.”

The sarcasm was thick and cut into Posey like a knife. She buried her head in her hooves. Luna lingered for only a moment – there was the barest trace of regret, of mercy – but it disappeared quickly as Luna stepped away from her nobles, as though trying to put as much distance between herself and them as she could, before finally turning around to regard them all.

“IS THERE A SINGLE HONEST PONY AMONGST YOU?”

To call the shout deafening would have implied that it used sound – it did not seem to, as the gathered ponies all felt Luna’s shout far more than heard it. They instinctively brayed and whinnied in fear as Luna’s head whipped back and forth, glaring at each of them in turn. Gone was the quiet, patient pony of a moment ago. Her head was low, her lips curled back in an animalistic snarl, her wings spread wide. She stamped a hoof to the ground.

“Liars! Imposters! Cruel, worthless, vain, selfish, undeserving MAGGOTS, every single one of you!” Though the volume was reduced from her initial outburst, Luna’s rage was no less palpable for it as she cantered forward and amongst them, glaring left and right, her mane and tail raging and roiling as the stars within glowed angrily. “You are supposed to be the high-born, the great leaders of Equestria, born and bred and trained for your positions. But you are all corrupt! THE WORMS OF THE EARTH HAVE MORE TO OFFER EQUESTRIA THAN YOU DO!”

“Majesty!” one noble – Margrave Club Special – exclaimed. It was a mistake, as Luna’s head whipped around, her eyes locked on his, and she stalked forwards and towards him. The other nobles scurried away from Luna, and the marquess himself backed away before realizing that the effort was futile. “M-majesty,” he begged. “You can’t…you can’t honestly believe what a career criminal is saying?”

“Should I not?” Luna asked, stomping one hoof. The impact made the floor shake, and the marquess nearly lost his balance. “Then it appears that I would do well to ignore every word from your mouth from this day forward. How much do you make per year off of Zaldian bribes? ANSWER ME, MARGRAVE.”

“Majesty – ”

“Look me in the eye, Margrave Club Special. LOOK AT ME. And tell me that Zizanie lied about you. ABOUT ANY OF YOU!”

The marquess looked to his Princess, mouth opening, ready to speak – but he could hold his gaze with Luna’s turquoise eyes for only a moment, before turning away, hiding behind the nearest convenient baronet. Luna followed his retreat with a sneer, before turning around, making her way from the nobility and ascending the steps to the Selenic Cathedra. “I have a mind to purge every last one of you! Throw you all in jail, dissolve the Night Court entirely and try something new for Equestria!”

A viscount with more knowledge of the nuances of law then common sense raised his voice at that. “But – but the laws of Equestria, Majesty! Laws you yourself are beholden to – they say that only the nobility or gentry of Equestria can – ”

“Then it is fortunate indeed, viscount,” Luna said as she reached the throne, turned around, and sat at it with her wings still spread wide, “that every mayoral office in Equestria was bequeathed a Lordship hundreds of years ago!”

Silence. Slowly – very slowly – it began to occur to the gathered nobility that this was not a knee-jerk reaction of Luna’s to learning the extent of their crimes. The idea that this was no accident, no random happenstance, but an actual plan on Luna’s part, began to seep into their minds – and at the same time, it began to occur to them that all the time that they had been lying, and cheating, and breaking the law, and looking the other way, and accepting bribes and arranging blackmail and banishments – that the entire time, even as they patted themselves on the back for being so clever, for working beneath Luna’s notice…that they had not evaded her. That she had known. That all Zizanie had done was provide her an excuse to remove them from power, remove their families from power, and do away with the nobility entirely, and legally at that.

It was not true, of course. But Luna did not see a valid reason for them to ever know that.

The Princess’ scowl had not dropped as she regarded them all. A measure of calmness at last returned to her voice, though it was precariously balanced on the edge of a knife. “This ends,” she said. “The corruption. The degradation. The ruination of so many ponies’ lives. The bribes and blackmail and gossip campaigns, the thefts and threats, the spies and saboteurs and all other acts of petty gain. They are finished and done and I will brook no argument on the matter.

“You may consider yourselves to be on probation. You will act in accordance with the letter and the spirit of the laws of Equestria. You will work honestly and openly and fairly. If you have issue with your fellow members of the Court then you will bring those issues to me, and I shall arbitrate and my decisions will be final. You will do this, because if it begins again, if the slightest whisper of corruption from any of you reaches my ears, then I will dissolve this Night Court, strip all of you of your ranks and titles, and create a new body of ponies who are willing to work for the good of Equestria and are capable of doing so without defiling the very ideals that this nation was founded upon! Do I make myself clear?”

Stunned silence greeted Luna. Her eyes narrowed, and she stood from her throne. “Do not make me ask again,” she hissed.

The response from that was immediate, if discordant – a mixture of yeses, and absolutlies, and of courses. The precise wording did not matter to Luna – she heard agreement and consensus, and for now, that would be enough. She sat back down on the Selenic Cathedra, folding her wings up as her horn glowed, opening the doors to the throne room. “Leave. Now.”

Most of the nobles did so – a few, like Viscount Blueblood, running as though for their lives, most leaving at a somewhat more measured pace. Many ponies, including Archduke Fisher, had their heads cast down in shame. Some – Vicereine Puissance amongst them – still walked with their heads held high, and looked as though they felt undeserving of what had just occurred. No doubt, Luna thought, that they were even now scheming for a way to continue with their lifestyles as though nothing had changed – that they were planning on trying the extent of Luna’s patience, the limits of her ultimatum.

If they actually did…then they would be in for a very, very rude surprise.

Some lingered, rushing to the foot of the Selenic Cathedra. Duchess Fragrant was amongst them, as they bowed and begged forgiveness and pleaded to know what it would take to make Luna stop glaring at them so. That this last group even existed – even though it consisted of less than a dozen ponies – was a bittersweet consolation to Luna, but she was in no mood for mercy now as she pointed to the doors of her throne room. “Go and earn your forgiveness,” she ordered.

Those ponies left, as quickly as they could. Luna watched them go, remaining stoic, tall, regal, as a Princess should…until they were all gone. Then she rocked back on her haunches, nearly falling over. She sat on her barrel upon the Selenic Cathedra, laying her head on one of its arms - for all her power, she suddenly found she lacked the strength to even sit up straight.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to split herself up into hundreds of bodies and chase after the nobles, whip them into shape and make sure that they took her words to heart. She felt…she felt tired. Spent. Exhausted.

But the night was not quite done. As the Night Guard once more entered into the throne room, she looked to one in particular, Sassaflash. “Please,” she said, “go and find my apprentice. Bring Trixie to me…and the largest flagon of wine you can find.”

The Night Guard nodded. “I will bring Trixie,” she said, trotting off, “and a flagon of water, your Majesty.”

Luna blinked, staring after her retreating form. Did she – was she – had she really – now, of all times, was she really going to enforce…?

As Sassaflash left the throne room, the Night Guard thought she heard exhausted, yet relieved laughter coming from the Selenic Cathedra. But if asked, she would have said it was only the wind.

14. Arise, Knights of the Realm

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Trixie had been before the Selenic Cathedra before, of course, but for all her friends, it was a new experience. They really should have had the time to admire the scale, the architecture, the presentation of the grand throne room that lead up to the throne of Equestria, the literal seat of power from which the fate of the nation, and countless others, was orchestrated. Bon Bon and Dinky should have been allowed to come in as well, but only Trixie had been summoned, and Luna had only allowed her five closest friends entrance alongside her, no more. As such, the remaining two members of their little party had been required to wait in the antechamber outside.

The throne room was built to be able to house nearly two hundred and fifty standing ponies. With only the six of them, it was a long, echoing walk through the shadowed hall, towards the Selenic Cathedra, giving them ample opportunity to study the look on Luna’s face – and for Luna to study them.

She did not look happy, but that was understandable – the throne room may have been soundproofed, but the nobility upon leaving it had been anything but quiet, and the Gala attendees had heard more than enough snippets of conversation to know that something major had happened before the Selenic Cathedra, something that had scared the Night Court enough to send them scurrying off to their homes and apartments within Canterlot as soon as they could do so without actually looking scared.

More than anything, though, the Princess looked hurt. Luna regarded them for some time before speaking. “I have only one question,” she said as she stood, descending the steps before the throne, voice echoing through the nearly empty hall “It is apparent to me, now, that your true intention was not to capture Zizanie, but to get me to act the way you thought I should. You knew that I would wish to speak with Zizanie – knew that there would be consequences on the Night Court because of that. You manipulated me and used me towards your own ends.”

Luna stopped at the base of the throne, looking down at the six ponies in turn. “Why?” she asked, in hardly more than a whisper.

The six ponies looked between themselves, each wondering who would speak first. It was Cheerilee. “We didn’t…use you, your Majesty,” she said. “We just…your Majesty, the Night Court had to be dealt with now. Not a year from now, not ten years…not after Stars know how many more attempts to manipulate us or anypony else, not when Corona comes back to Canterlot…now. We just wanted you to act, your Majesty.”

“Oh, well, you have succeeded, then,” Luna said in a droning voice, stepping before Cheerilee. “I acted. I loosed a rage upon the Night Court such as it has not seen in centuries. Though the ponies of it live a hundred years they will not forget what…what I did. What I said.” She looked away, silent for several moments as she scuffed a hoof on the ground beneath her. “They will not forget their fear.”

“Good,” Lyra said. She spoke somewhat louder than she had probably intended, and her word echoed sharply through the chamber. Luna looked at her, and Lyra wilted before continuing. “I…I’m not really the pony to say this, ‘cause I’m a musician, I make my own hours, I’m my own boss…but good. Being a member of the Court is basically their job, so the Night Court should be afraid of you, afraid that if they mess up, you’ll fire them.”

“Nopony should have to live in fear,” Luna objected.

“They wouldn’t have to if they weren’t acting the way they were,” Raindrops said. “Lyra’s got the right idea. That buck-all attitude is half the problem with the weather captain we’ve got back in Ponyville. She’s got connections in Cloudsdale, she knows she won’t ever be fired…so it means she can goof off and be lazy whenever she wants. She’s getting better…but only because I’ve been riding her flank about it.”

“Which you wish me to do,” Luna said, her expression finally changing, taking on a look of slight anger. “To never trust them again. To involve myself so totally that I practically run everything myself – to transcend mere monarchy and become a tyrant.”

“No,” Carrot Top said, tapping her hooves together and looking up at Luna nervously. “No, we get it…that one pony shouldn’t run the whole Court. I’m…I’m sorry if this comes across as blunt, your Majesty, but there are degrees between monarch and tyrant. Nopony expects you to run everything…and I know that you do occasionally act, when there’s a full trial for some noble who can’t get away with something they did…but all it meant was the members of the Night Court would just try not to get caught. It wasn’t preventing anything. They could do whatever they wanted, take whatever they wanted.”

“But now, they will be paralyzed,” Luna countered, wings ruffling. “And I have delivered my ultimatum…a single misstep, and I come down hard upon all of them. That is no way to run a nation.”

“Maybe not,” Ditzy said, raising a hoof. “but…but look at what it was like. Look at Night Light. He wasn’t afraid of you. He knew how far he could go with threatening Ponyville, and he went there, because he knew that you wouldn’t do anything about it except warn him off.”

Luna regarded each of the ponies who spoke, before finally looking to Trixie, her expression becoming hurt again. Trixie thought a moment, head bowed, casting her mind back to all the politics, all the sociology, all the lessons that Luna had tried to teach her over the years. Some of it had even stuck. “What’s better to rule by?” She asked. “Love, or fear?”

“Both,” Luna responded. “Failing that, whichever one suits the leader and the times better…” she shook her head sadly. “You believe that now is a time when it is better that the Night Court fears me.”

“No,” Trixie said, shaking her head. “Because neither are as important as avoiding contempt and hate. But…but that’s what had happened, Princess. The Night Court – your Night Court – held you in contempt. They knew your limits, knew what they could get away with, and how. Because they didn’t love you and didn’t fear you…didn’t respect you. You were just one more obstacle to work around.” Trixie spread her hooves. “Okay, right now they’re all scared out of their minds. But things will settle down…and like Lyra said, they should be afraid of you, or at least afraid of the Crown, and what happens when you hold the Crown in contempt.”

“But that is not for you to decide!” Luna exclaimed, spreading her wings as she glared down at Trixie. “There was a plan in place, Trixie – all of you! A system for dealing with this. Yes, it would be slower, but it would not make ponies fear the Crown, wondering if I might fall upon them at any moment – wondering if I might grow fickle and depose them all – wondering if I might become another Tyrant Sun!”

Luna whickered and stamped her hoof at that again, sending an echo throughout the chambers. She seemed surprised when none of the six ponies before her moved, more so when Trixie stepped forward. “So you’d rather be afraid instead,” she said.

The Princess blinked. “What are you talking about?” she demanded.

“I can see it now,” Trixie said. “You’re not scared of being seen as a tyrant, you’re scared of becoming one, even though you never would. You’re so afraid – ”

“Trixie…” Luna warned. Trixie ignored her.

“ – that you’d rather just let Equestria go through these cycles then risk taking any real action, using any of your power.” Trixie bit her lip. “You’re afraid. All the time, you’re afraid. You’ve become used to it. You’re scared of yourself.”

“As well I should be,” Luna said. She leaned in. “You don’t – you don’t understand. None of you understand! You say I could never be a tyrant, but you don’t know. It would be easy.” She leaned back, looking up at the Selenic Cathedra. “Grogar is banished into Shadow, the Smooze was destroyed, Tirek and Discord are imprisoned, the dragons are subdued, the griffins are weak…” She looked back to the six mares. “There are no monsters left. No threats except Corona…and me.”

Luna shook her head. “I…I nearly became one in the past. Before Corona, I nearly did. I stopped only because of ponies reaching out to me and helping me. I’m not like Celestia was. She was the strong one, the sure one. But she fell. She became a monster, and if Celestia can…I can.” She looked to Trixie. “I can become a tyrant in a moment. I’m not…I’m not strong enough.”

“Yes you are,” Trixie objected. “You’re the strongest mare I know. Not just with magic…your heart.” She considered a moment, before stepping forward, touching a hoof to Luna. “And even if you’re right and you’re not strong…you’re not alone, either. You said yourself that ponies reached out and helped you before. It’ll happen again, too, if it has to.” She looked Luna in the eye. “You’re not your sister.”

Luna stared down at her student, blinking a few times. “I…” she began, glancing at the other Elements. She let out a long breath, and touched a hoof to Trixie’s own, closing her eyes. She seemed to draw on a reserve of inner strength as she did. “Perhaps…perhaps you are correct. I don’t know that you are, but…but perhaps there is a measure of truth to what you said. We’ll find out in the coming weeks.”

Trixie nodded. “And…I’m sorry. I’m sorry we manipulated and used you. Maybe it doesn’t make us any different from the Night Court. But there didn’t really seem to be any other way…”

Luna nodded in understanding, if not agreement. She released Trixie, stepping back and ascending the steps to the throne. When she reached it and sat back down, she somehow seemed to look small in it. “Just…do not ever do something like this again,” she requested. “You are the Elements of Harmony…you must set an example for Equestria, as I must. Can you promise me this?”

The mares looked between each other, before nodding almost as one. “We’ll try.”

“That is all I can expect,” Luna said softly, as she set her horn glowing. The doors to the throne room opened – but she beckoned Bon Bon and Dinky in, rather than requesting the mares inside leave. Bon Bon looked worried, hurrying over to Lyra, while Dinky took a moment to marvel at the architecture and scale of the throne room, apparently certain that her mother was fine. Luna gave the two additions a moment to go to their loved ones and speak, before raising a hoof for their attention.

“I had intended to do this at dinner tonight,” she said, summoning a small, blue box and opening it, revealing the foci for the Elements of Harmony to be inside. “To correct an oversight on my part. This is something I should have done from the moment you earned the Elements of Harmony – I should have defined your positions, and your roles, within Equestria in general, within the hierarchy of the Night Court.” Luna looked to Dinky and Bon Bon. “Miss Bon Bon, Miss Dinky Doo, you two will serve as witnesses.”

“Witnesses?” Dinky asked. “For what?”

The ghost of a smile appeared on Luna’s face at the filly’s question, as she indicated that they should stand aside. She looked back to the six mares once they had, as she floated the six foci for the Elements of Harmony of the ponies’ heads. “Kneel,” she instructed them. There was the slightest pause, before Trixie’s face lit up immensely, and she was on her knees and hocks a moment later. The other five followed suit thereafter, smiles on their faces as well when they realized what was happening.

Luna looked to Bon Bon and Dinky, spreading her wings wide. “With you now as my witnesses,” she said, “I declare this: that whomsoever wears one of the Elements of Harmony – if that pony be worthy of it, if they swear to defend Equestria from enemies both domestic and foreign, if they act for the good of Equestria without compromising the ideals upon which this nation was founded, if they display a care for the fate of others, be it the whole of the nation, a city, a town, or even a single pony…then let those ponies hereafter be known throughout Equestria,” she looked back to the six mares who kneeled, “as Knights of the Realm. Let them be awarded all the rights and honors that station guarantees them, and let them further be awarded the Right of Approach – ”

Luna stopped there, as Trixie lost her balance and fell to the floor after making a high-pitched sound that strained even Luna’s hearing. She picked herself back up in a moment, looked grateful that the only ponies seeing her faceplant during her own knighting ceremony were her close friends, and resumed her kneel.

Luna chuckled a moment, before continuing, “Let them be awarded the Right of Approach. May they forever stand in the good graces of the eyes of the ponies of Equestria.”

Luna fastened each of necklace Elements around their owner’s necks, and finished with placing the tourmaline diadem atop Trixie’s head. “Dame Raindrops, Dame Ditzy, Dame Carrot Top, Dame Lyra, Dame Cheerilee, and Dame Trixie – Rise now as Knights of the Realm.”

The six of them did. Carrot Top and Raindrops stared at their Elements as though seeing them for the first time, while Lyra was swiftly joined by Bon Bon, and Ditzy by Dinky, both of whom gushed congratulations.

Cheerilee was frowning a little as she thought. “The Right of Approach…” she said. “That’s…that’s something that only the viceroys have, isn’t it?”

Trixie nodded, beaming up at the diadem that sat upon her head, spinning around in place a little and not caring at all for how heavy it was at the moment. “It means that if we want to speak to the Princess, only the Princess can turn us away. Her secretaries, her staff, her Night Guards, they have to let us see her.” She tapped her hooves together. “We have a direct line with the Princess…it’s…it’s power. Not much power, but it’s real, official power!”

“I am sure I do not have to warn you not to abuse it,” Luna said. She raised one hoof, getting the ponies’ attentions. “Technically, you have not been truly knighted. Much as how the title of Lord Mayor is attached to the office and not the pony, the titles shall apply to whomsoever is chosen by the Elements of Harmony – at the moment, you six. However…your place in the Night Court is now officially defined. You have been made Knights of the Realm – essentially, a branch of the Night Guard, working directly for the Crown.”

Luna inclined her head. “Nothing has changed for you, apart from minor privileges granted by being created as knights. You may still live the lives you always have, do what you always have. Your only responsibility is the defense of Equestria from extraordinary threats – threats such as the Tyrant Sun – ”

Luna stopped when Trixie came barreling up the steps to the Selenic Cathedra, throwing herself at Luna and wrapping her hooves around Luna’s neck, nuzzling her mentor closely. “Thank you thank you thank you! It’s a hoof in the door! A step toward the Night Court! Thank you!”

Luna was initially startled by the embrace, but after a moment she returned it, smiling. It occurred to the monarch of Equestria that not too long ago, Trixie had been wondering if she’d be forced to give up her ambitions in the Night Court for the sake of her friends – but now, Luna had opened the door for her, reinforced Trixie’s goals. “You still have some ways to go,” she told Trixie. “But remember Trixie – Dame Trixie – ” Trixie squealed slightly at being addressed as such, “I want you to be happy, first and foremost. And…” she leaned away from Trixie. “And thank-you. I do not know that what you did at the Gala was right…but I know that it was for me.” She smiled. “The Night Court will only benefit if – when – you fully ascend into it.”

Trixie smiled at that, wiping her eyes as they began tearing up, before leaning in and nuzzling Luna again. “Thank-you, Princess.”

---

Long after the chaos of the Gala had died down, long after the first train had finally come in and the ponies of Ponyville had boarded it, eager to go home and rest and get to work on fixing Ponyville again, a white unicorn stallion in his apartments in Canterlot, thinking over what had happened as he rubbed a glass of something both very cold and very nearly poisonous to his forehead. Viscount Prince Blueblood was weighing certain pros and cons of certain information he possessed, when there was a knock on his front door.

Blueblood counted himself as particularly clever for making sure to remain just slightly tipsy and therefore prevent a hangover that would have turned the knocking into a cacophonous assault of sound. He opened the door telekinetically, without standing, though he did when Trixie, the Element of Magic perched upon her head for some reason, trotted in, smiling brightly and levitating a variety of drinks and mixes after her.

Blueblood regarded her with one raised eyebrow as she started mixing everything together. “Now, I made the barpony make this earlier tonight,” she said as she mixed, “and it’s very good, and I have to think of a name for it.”

Blueblood raised an eyebrow as Trixie finished mixing and poured her concoction into two glasses, levitating one over to Blueblood before draining the contents of her own. At length, Blueblood took an experimental sip of the cocktail. It was actually quite good – Trixie apparently had a hidden talent. “What do you want, Trixie?” he asked.

“Dame Trixie!” Trixie corrected, smiling brightly as she mixed another cocktail for herself and drank it down. “Luna knighted me and my friends. And even gave us the Right of Approach!”

Blueblood blinked at giving mere dames one of the hallmark powers of a viceroy, but decided that it made sense – and really, at least in Trixie’s case, all it really did was formally recognize her already close relationship with Luna. Ultimately it was only a small modicum of power in the grand scheme of things. “Congratulations then, Dame Trixie,” he said. “Now what do you want?”

“I think it’s more about what you want,” Trixie said, as she set aside all her cocktail mixes and settled on just straight vodka. “Or…what you plan on doing.”

Blueblood regarded Trixie as he took another sip of the cocktail. “You used me,” he said, “to get to Zizanie. For some bizarre reason, I agreed. Then the next thing I know, Zizanie is at the Gala, having become some kind of monster, and this all happened while the entire Night Court was running off their mouths and exposing their darkest secrets. Everypony but me, thanks to my choice of companions in the night.”

Trixie nodded. “Even you can see the connections,” she said, taking another shot of vodka.

Blueblood scowled. “Yes,” he said. “I can. And now I must decide what to do with that information. Because right now, all anypony knows is that you helped to capture Zizanie. Nopony knows anything about how you put her up to poisoning the Night Court in the first place. If that were to change, the consequences…to you, to your friends, to Ponyville…could be very great indeed.”

Trixie nodded. “That’s right,” she said. “But you’re not going to do anything about it. You’re going to stay silent.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Because it’s the right thing to do.” Blueblood scoffed at that, drinking the cocktail again. “Because Princess Luna wants all this to end…all the extortion and blackmail. It doesn’t get anypony anywhere.”

That actually gave Blueblood pause. The castigation of the Night Court that had happened earlier in the night was still fresh in his mind, and would be for some time. He had never seen Luna so angry before - mere anger didn’t seem to encapsulate it. And her ultimatum...even if it had been delivered in the heat of the moment, even if it was unlikely, impossible, even, that Luna would carry through with dissolving the Night Court if even one of them stepped out of line...Luna was clearly in a mood to come down exceptionally hard on anypony who dared step out of line in the near future - and for an immortal alicorn, the "near future" could be quite a long time indeed.

But all that meant was Blueblood had to wait things out. Sooner or later, things would calm down, and then...well, who knew where the six Elements of Harmony would be then, how much personal ability and prestige they might have amassed thanks to their positions - and how much might they be willing to trade that in exchange for Blueblood’s simple silence?

Trixie had noticed Blueblood’s momentary hesitation followed by his return to form. She didn’t seem troubled be it; indeed, she was smiling. Trixie smiled. “And you’re going to stop,” she said, as Blueblood finished his cocktail, “because I have poisoned your drink.”

Blueblood froze. He looked down at the empty cocktail glass in horror, before looking back at Trixie. “But…but you made it in front of me. You drank it too!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, but I have the antidote, and it’s not a normal poison anyway,” the newly-created dame said. She held her front hooves up. “It’s the truth poison Zizanie let loose on the Gala tonight. It’s a two-parter. The first part – which was in the drink I made – is utterly harmless on its own. Once into your stomach and intestines, settles in, and it can remain dormant for years, waiting. If the second part – a little magical spark – is introduced…” Trixie smiled. “Well. You saw what happened at the Gala. Imagine that, but just you, for however long it took the truth poison to wear off. Hours? Days? What would you say that you can’t take back?”

Blueblood stared at the cocktail glass again, before hurling it away from himself, as though it were coated in a far more deadly poison than what Trixie was implying. He glared at the blue unicorn, nostrils flaring and having to restrain himself from physically charging her down and making her give him the antidote. She wouldn’t, he knew. She was far, far better at this game then he had realized, and now he was paying the price. “What do you want?” he demanded once more.

Trixie spread her forehooves. “Not much,” she said. “Just don’t mention that I set up Zizanie. Really, it’s in your interests to – you set me up with her, after all. I don’t think anypony you told would be very happy about that. And Luna…well, I wasn’t there, but I hear there was some kind of ultimatum…”

Blueblood’s lip curled. “And?”

Trixie shrugged. “And nothing. That’s it.” She locked eyes with Blueblood. ”The rules have changed, Viscount. Or rather, they’re being enforced now. I don’t need to trade favors and vices with you. I’ll get into the Night Court the way a pony is supposed to. I’ll earn it, and all the other power I gain there, I’ll earn as well. I won’t have to trample on other ponies to do it.” Her eyes narrowed. “But if you want, then we can play the game the old way instead. And the first pony I trample on will be you.”

Trixie used the bottle of vodka to salute Blueblood as she stood, then trotted over to the door. “To your health, Viscount Prince Blueblood,” she said.

Outside, her friends were all waiting for her. None of them looked particularly pleased at what they had heard. “That’s what you wanted us to miss the first train for?” Raindrops demanded. “How is that better than anything the Night Court ever did?”

“Didn’t Luna just finish telling us not to do this kind of thing anymore?” Cheerilee asked.

Trixie smiled, leading her friends away before leaning into them conspiratorially. “He’s not really poisoned,” she said in a low voice.

The other Elements stared at Trixie. “Huh?” Carrot Top asked.

“If I really poisoned him, there’s, like, a dozen anti-venom spells he could use to get rid of it. And Truth is a Scourge doesn’t last that long anyway, it’d flush out of his system in less than a day. But he can’t use the anti-venom spells without identifying it first…and to do that, he needs to find it. As long as he doesn’t, he’ll have to assume either it’s not there – or he missed it or can’t detect it.” Trixie smiled. “It won’t last forever. But it’ll last long enough for everypony to calm down. It’ll keep Blueblood from doing something stupid. It’s not really using him, it’s more like…like giving him something to do to distract him. By the time he figures everything out, if he even does, the Night Court should be a long way towards reform.”

“I still don’t like it, though,” Cheerilee said.

Trixie paused a moment, before nodding and sighing. “I don’t either. But I know Blueblood. He’ll try to come back and haunt us with what he knows someday unless we keep him busy right now, demonstrate to him that we can play his game and play it better. He was a loose end to tie up.”

The other five jumped slightly at that, and Trixie held up her hooves. “I don’t mean it like that - ”

“Good,” Ditzy interrupted. She could have sounded angry when she did, but she didn’t. She sounded disappointed. “And I want you to promise me something, Trixie. That this is it. We’re not going to get involved in these political games anymore - and you’re not going to, either.”

Trixie didn’t hesitate, putting a hoof over her heart. “I promise,” she said, and looked to each of her friends. “Because you’d never forgive me if I did turn into another Blueblood, another Greengrass...another Night Light.” She shook her head. “It wouldn’t be worth it. I’ll mix up another batch of truth poison to prove it, if you want.”

The other five ponies looked between each other. Raindrops acted first, trotting up to Trixie and putting a hoof on her shoulder. “You don’t need to do that,” she said. “Just...promise that the next Gala will just be a Gala.”

Trixie nodded, and began to promise, but Blueblood’s door chose that moment to open. The six looked, and saw a pink-maned, pink-coated, pink-tailed pony bounce out backwards from Blueblood’s apartment. “Buh-bye!” she called, waving in. “I have to get back to Poynville to help with opening the bakery and ordering new stuff for the Cakes! Ooh, but I’ll come by this weekend! And I’ll bring syrup!”

Pinkie Pie turned, and saw the six from Ponyville. “Oh, hi girls!” She said, bouncing on past them. “Sorry, can’t talk, gotta catch the train!”

The six ponies watched her go, before looking back at the door to Blueblood’s apartment, where the unicorn was looking out, at first glaring at Trixie, though his expression changed to one of confusion at the sight of the newly created dame. She had frozen in place, mouth hanging open and shivering slightly, as the color drained from her coat as the full implications of Pinkie leaving Blueblood’s apartments hit her. “S…” she stuttered, “s…s-syrup…?”

Blueblood blinked, then smiled wickedly. looking past her and at Pinkie Pie. “And blueberries!” he called.

“Okie-doky-loki!” Pinkie called back.

Trixie eeped and shot off at full speed, realized she was charging towards Pinkie Pie, and turned, bolting in the opposite direction. Blueblood watched her go, considering for a few moments. Political revenge? That was off the table, but Blueblood saw no reason why he couldn’t still find some way to get back at Trixie, even if the means had to be more...benign. “I suppose…” he said, “…yes. I suppose I’ll consider that a start.” With that, he closed his door.

Author's Notes:

Update - 03/06/2015
If the Lunaverse is best served by having me be firmly in charge of it, then firmly in charge of it I shall be. Part of that means that THIS SCENE is back.

It might not be the best thing for Trixie.

It might not be the best thing for the moral foundation of the Lunaverse.

But it's what I want, damnit, and damn the consequences, too. Trixie is a trickster hero. She uses guile and manipulation to save the day. And her blackmailing somepony to get them to stop blackmailing others even as she says that blackmailing is wrong, is no different from Batman hurting Joker to get Joker to stop hurting others even as Batman says that hurting others is wrong.

Having said that, the scene has been edited and expanded somewhat.

And that is all I have to say about that.

At the Grand Galloping Gala

by RainbowDoubleDash

1. Look at Ponyville

2. The Duke

3. Arrival in Canterlot

4. Running Interference

5. Night Light

6. Trixie and Luna

7. Back in Ponyville

8. Zizanie Again

9. At the Gala

10. Set in Motion

11. Objects in Motion, Pt. I

12. Objects in Motion, Pt. II

13. The Castigation of the Night Court

14. Arise, Knights of the Realm

Epilogue - Look at Ponyville