EqD Writer Training Grounds short stories by Georg

Chapters

Princess Twilight Sparkle - Mistress of the Night
Into The Depths of The Big Apple
Prince Blueberry Pie
Graceful Ponies of the Night
Best Draconequus
On deCrosse and Bluebelle
The Flying Bookworm and the Weather Princess
Now Appearing All This Week - Nightmare and the Apocalypse
Apple Bucking Twilight Time
The Cutie Mark Crusaders and the Accidental Alicorn Incident
Introducing the Wonderbolts! And Some Red Pony On A Flying Machine
Racing Through Tines and Plates With Ferd and Feg Hoot
Luna's Children of the Night
Luna’s Federation - Diplomancy by Other Means
W15 - The Traveling Tutor and the Changeling Queen's Nephew
W16 - Judge Trixie and the Case of the Rummy Moose - A Feghoot Story
W17 - Princess Celestia’s Most Memorable Birthday Present - A Twilestia Story
W18 - Throwing Pies and Cakes For Gold
W 19 - Cutting the Chord, Swinging the Hammer, and Dropping the Piano

Princess Twilight Sparkle - Mistress of the Night

Week 1 - Bats!

After using a spell to restore Fluttershy back to her normal self, Twilight Sparkle finds herself unable to sleep while researching the ancient tales of vampirism. Many sleepless nights of research later, she transforms into Princess Twilight Sparkle - Mistress of the Night, and huddles inside her darkened library home in fear of what will happen when Princess Celestia arrives.
[Teen][Gothic Clothes][Angst]

(Vampire Twilight, by Alasou at Deviant Art used by permission)

Princess Twilight Sparkle - Mistress of the Night

“Spike! Are you still out there? Make sure nopony comes in here until the Princess arrives. I don’t want anypony to see her drive a stake through my heart and cut off my head. Oh, no! I should get some towels. Or a washcloth. Maybe a bucket. Spike, do you know where you put the bucket? And the garlic. She’s going to need garlic to stuff in my mouth. Oh, I hope she cuts my head off first, that stuff tastes awful!”

Spike sighed and leaned against the library front door while looking up into Ponyville’s clear sunny sky in the vain hopes of seeing Princess Celestia. He had sent her that letter an hour ago, and although she had written right back saying she was on the way, there still was no sign of her. The Ponyville Golden Oak library had been transformed over the last few days, with heavy (but tasteful) curtains over all of the windows, skull decorations (artificial) over each of the doors, and a constant blare from the television which was working on the third time through the entire ‘Twilight’ series, including each of the movies.

After having been dragged into assisting with the blizzard of post-it notes and annotations now scattered across the whole first floor, Spike had finally lost his temper. He had been able to stand it for the first few days, but it had been almost a week now, and despite Twilights plaintive begging, he had written the letter she should have written days earlier.

“Yes, Twilight. I’m still out here. In the sun. Just like I’ve been for hours. The bucket is under the sink, right where you left it. And we’re out of garlic. Would an onion work?”

“Maybe. They’re the same genus. Let me do some research.”

The faint sound of feathers in the sky was the only warning Spike got before Princess Celestia touched down gently at his side. The Royal Gaze swept over the darkened library and its new decorations before she looked down at Spike with a loving smile. “About an 8.5?”

“More like a 9.2 if you ask me,” grumbled the dragon. “She’s been awake since she zapped Fluttershy out of her vampire bat spell, which she caused by zapping a bunch of vampire fruit bats in the first place. If you’re going to zap her, I’ll be waiting over there. Way over there.”

“Don’t be silly, Spike. What Twilight is going through is perfectly normal. For Twilight, that is. It’s just probably just cranked up a notch due to her panic and lack of sleep.”

“But she really is turning into a vampony, Princess. She spent days and days researching everything she could find about them even including those movies.” He shuddered. “Those horrible, horrible movies. She started stalking around the library in a cape, complaining that her skin itched, taking experimental bites out of everything including our bowl of wax fruit, and now she wails about her unnatural thirst. She has red glaring eyes, she won’t go outside, and she even eavesdrops when you’re trying to have a private conversation.”

“I do not!” There was a rustling inside the library before Twilight continued, “much.”

Celestia shook her head and smiled at the closed door. “Oh, Twilight. You remind me so much of my first time through this. There really is nothing to be afraid of. It’s very natural.”

The wail from inside the library peaked into an intense shriek as Twilight shouted, “There’s nothing ordinary about this insatiable hunger that is consuming me with unholy desires! I’m burning up! I bit a pony yesterday in the library!”

“Caramel,” explained Spike. “And they’re just plastic fangs, although he seemed to like it. Pervert.”

“Now he’s doomed to walk Equestria as one of the living dead!” wailed Twilight. “And it’s all my fault! I goofed up Fluttershy’s spell! I turned myself into a being so evil it cannot stand the light of day!”

“She thinks she sparkles,” said Spike, looking slightly nauseous.

“Yes!” sobbed Twilight. “It explains everything! Why my cutie mark looks like a bloodstain. Why I’m named after a vampire movie and their cheap special effects! Why I even have the full collection of Twilight movies and books and collectable posters autographed by the actors! Those handsome, hunky actors. I can’t help but stare at his soft, smooth flank, glistening in the moonlight. His cutie mark, two red drops of blood, far redder than any apple. That soft smile, with those darling fangs. And those powerful muscles. Um…”

Celestia fought back a smirk as Spike pointed a claw down his throat and quietly gagged.

“Twilight, I can assure you, what you are experiencing is… Twilight?” Celestia put an ear to the door and looked at Spike. “What in heaven’s name is she doing?”

“Chewing on the furniture. She says she’s trying to keep her fangs short. So, can you help her?”

“There’s no help for me!” howled Twilight with a clatter of hooves as she ran around the library. “Just unsheath your terrible sword and cleave my head from my torso so that I might find rest from this life of tears! The bathtub! I’ll get in the bathtub so you don’t make a mess!”

“And run a cold shower!” shouted Spike, before turning to Celestia with a sniffle. “I’m really worried, Princess.”

“Don’t be, Spike.” Celestia rested a hoof on the little dragon’s shoulder and smiled. “Do you remember when you first started living with Twilight Sparkle and you asked me why she was so grouchy once a month?”

“Yeah. You said it was a natural cycle where her hormones were going a little crazy, and that all mares were like that. And that I just had to tolerate it when it happened.”

“Yes I did. And now that she’s become an alicorn, she has a few more changes than just the wings to deal with. Instead of going a little ‘crazy’ a few days every month, now it can be a year or more between her cycles.”

“Oh. That’s good?”

“And alicorn magic can make that time considerably more intense.”

“Oh. That’s bad.”

“By several orders of magnitude.”

Spike paused in thought. “Is this why you visit northern Equestria every few years, and bring back that candied lichen?”

“Among other things, yes.”

An anguished howl burst from the darkened library as the sound of splashing could be heard. “The water’s not cold enough!”

“Don’t worry, Twilight,” called Celestia. “I sent one of my young guards to get you some medicine.”

Spike scowled. “Not that creepy Flash Sentry, I hope. He’s always bumping into her and hanging around like a stalker. ‘What can I do for you, Princess?’ ‘Do you want to dance, Princess?’ He writes her these goofy little love notes and tries to slip them into her paperwork.”

Celestia giggled. “Did you know he carved ‘Twilight and Flash’ into the prize elm tree in my garden last month?”

“No!” gasped Spike. “Did you punish him?”

“Princess Celestia! Princess Celestia!” The Royal Guard in question came flapping down and landed in front of the princess with a deep bow that just happened to block Spike’s sight with an extended wing. “I got all the things you asked for, the chocolates, the flowers, and the wine. But I really don’t understand —”

“You will, Flash.” A golden magical aura surrounded the stunned guard and his basket of romantic presents. Opening the library door and giving an experimental heft of the armored stallion, Celestia smiled in anticipation.

“Twilight! I brought your medicine.” With a surprised bleat of fear, Flash Sentry found himself tossed into the library and the door slammed behind him. His girlish shriek rose out from the library, followed by a feral growl and the sound of running hooves. After a brief scrabbling at the door, now glowing a soft gold, the crashing and bellowing proceeded around the library. Princess Celestia calmly extended her spell as the sounds of armored hooves clattered towards an open window, only to seal it off at the last second. Spike watched the competition in awe, and clapped politely when the last of the tree was covered in Celestia’s golden barrier spell.

“There we go. One overworked and overimaginative alicorn properly medicated.”

Spike glanced between the golden glowing tree and Celestia. “Don’t you think that was a bit harsh?”

“Well, he asked my permission to spend a few days with her.” The crashing and running noises inside the library had died down, and Celestia added a sound muffling layer to the spell wrapped around the library, just in case.

“I think about three days should cover the damage to the elm tree.”

(Courtesy of Anonymoose)

Into The Depths of The Big Apple

Into the Depths of the Big Apple

Warning: This fic contains scenes of a Gastronomic nature. If you or any member of your family is on a diet, or may consider being on a diet in the near future, you are advised to turn off your computer now and go outside to get some exercise. This has been your only warning.

“Come on, girls! It’ll be fun!”

“I dunno, Pinkie.” Applejack was trying to enjoy the day with her friends after the debacle of the fashion show, which she was eternally grateful not to have been drafted into modeling for, but all of their exploration of the city sights and attractions was beginning to raise the hair on the back of her neck. The endless warnings of her Aunt and Uncle Orange sounded at the back of her mind. “Don’t fill your plate, Applejack.” “Small portions for small fillies, Applejack.” So far the six of them had managed to touch base at nearly every cafe and food stand in the Big Apple, and the accumulated calories were only making the little voices in her head louder. “How’s about we stop in for a movie and get some weight off our dogs for a bit instead. I ain’t never seen this picture playin’ over at the Ponyville cinemascope.”

Applejack pointed at a movie theatre which had more lights, mirrors and glass in it than Rarity’s bathroom. She normally would have shied away from such a garish building, but a movie ought to be something that would calm her down and allow a chance to catch her breath. Besides, that hunky stallion in the tuxedo looking out from the movie poster could saddle her up anytime.

“The latest Reins Bond flick!” squealed Fluttershy. “He’s such a thoughtful character. Did you see in the last movie where he dove off the road to avoid hitting those ducks?”

Rainbow Dash scoffed, “Those were explosive ducks, Fluttershy. And I suppose we could take a break for a bit.”

In a matter of a few minutes, Applejack was wedged into the theatre seating with her friends, watching the interminable previews and ads roll up the screen. Pinkie Pie had acquired the popcorn and snacks, and Applejack had just gotten good and settled into her seat when she looked down at the contents of her hoof and froze.

“Pinkie? What’s this?”

“Popcorn, silly!” Pinkie promptly gobbled a few hooves of the light and fluffy concoction, dripping with butter and seasoned salt. “It’s so gooood. Even better than Ponyville’s.”

“Well, yeah Pinks, but they make it with coconut oil here. You must have bought a giant tub of it for each of us. Do you know how many calories that is?”

“Hush, Applejack,” scolded Twilight. “The movie is about to start.”

Try as she would, Applejack just could not shake the dark gloom that dragged her down, and it wasn’t entirely the sticky floor in the theatre either. As Reins Bond swooped through the sky with his jetpack, or under the sea with enchanted flippers, fighting the forces of H.A.L.T.E.R. throughout the movie, she sat and sulked. She was a country pony, used to the hard work and long hours of country living, and Granny had always said she had a stomach made of iron, but the collection of treats, samples, and food they had been gorging on ever since they had left the hotel this morning formed a bubbling lump in her belly like molten lead. What was worse, when the lights came back on after the movie was over, she found her seat surrounded with empty popcorn buckets, candy packages, and even one slightly-chewed ticket stub.

“So that’s where all the popcorn went,” groused Twilight, turning over the last tub and poking around for spare kernels.

“It wasn’t me!” protested Applejack with a buttery burp. “At least, not all me.”

“Don’t worry, Twilight,” chirped Pinkie Pie while picking up the empty buckets. “They have free refills.”

* * *

As they walked back into the hotel that evening, Applejack yawned and veered towards the elevators while the rest of the group headed for the hotel restaurant. “You girls go on and eat dinner. Ah’m just gonna go upstairs and have me a quick lie down. Ah ain’t got no appetite after all them vittles we done put away today anyway.”

“But Applejack, darling! If you don’t want to eat with us, at least you can sit with us and talk. Besides, if your stomach is upset, I understand the chef here prepares a wonderful salade de tomatoes et mozzerella which is very low calorie and quite delectable also. Please, won’t you dine with us?”

Five sets of mournful eyes (Spike was reading the menu) tore at her willpower, and after a brief fight, Applejack gave in.

“Well, ah suppose. What harm could it be?”

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want the last piece of pizza, Applejack? You know, we don’t get Manehattan style pizza back in Ponyville very often.”

“Naa, RD. I’m good.” Applejack lifted a napkin to her lips with all the delicacy of a Manehattan native and dabbed gently at the tiny speck of salad dressing left behind. “Ah do declare, this has been the most exhilarating night I’ve had in simply ages, and I’m all in. Shall we adjourn to our rooms for the evening? I’d like to get a good night’s sleep before we head out tomorrow.”

“Sounds good, Applejack. Come on, everypony. Time to hit the hay like a certain dragon already has.” Twilight Sparkle stood up from the table, with sleeping dragon already nestled on her back while she trotted with her friends to the elevator. Within minutes, they were all busily getting ready for bed.

Except for one.

* * *

“Psst!”

Stuffed Shirt, the maître d’hôtel for the Main Fair Hotel, looked around the entranceway to the restaurant. There did not appear to be anything leaking, but the noise repeated.

“Psst! Garcon.” The source of the noise seemed to be coming from behind a potted plant, spoken by a young orange mare, wearing a disreputable western hat of considerable wear, as well as an obviously fake moustache and one of the hotel towels thrown across her shoulders. It was a quite gauche and outlandish display—

“Here.” A hefty pile of bits cascaded into his hoof.

—but obviously the young mare was simply looking for privacy, and as an employee of the hotel, it was his solemn duty to provide whatever the guests desired.

“What is it you wish, Mademoiselle?”

“Show me the buffet.”

“What? I’m sorry, Mademoiselle Applejack, but this restaurant does not have a buffet. However, we do have room service, if you would like.” He passed over a menu which rustled briefly before being used as a display

“Ah want one of those eggplant parm-izz-johnies, a champignons poleoleo thingie, two of those bulgur wheat fricassee cause they’re so darned small, a roasted butternut squash platter, and the cheesecake cart delivered up to room 315. And don’t skimp on the portions, ya’ hear?” Another cascade of bits followed, and Stuffed Shirt paused with his pencil over one last troubling entry on the order.

“Which one of our cheesecakes were you wishing to sample, Mademoiselle? We have over two dozen of the finest, including cherry, raspberry, strawberry, Prench chocololate—”

“Just send the whole durned cart.”

* * *

Five worried friends and one dragon sat in the private train car on their way back to Ponyville, looking nervously at Applejack. It had taken all of them to carry her vastly swollen bulk to the train station, with Twilight covering them all with a tarp and loudly proclaiming they were moving a piano. Now the bed was completely covered by the bloated farm mare, making grunting noises and twitching at the sound of the passing lunch cart, but unable to move. The first thing Twilight had done once Applejack had been placed on the bed was to magically create a whole set of ropes and chains that secured her tightly, and now that precaution was showing its worth as the ropes creaked under her weight.

Unearthly growling and rumbling filled the train car as the friends huddled together in fear at what had overcome the once athletic pony, now sniffing the air in the hopes of a single roasted parsnip or caramelized endive leaf thrown her way.

“Hungry,” moaned Applejack, testing her bonds as her stomach growled again, a deep reverberating thunder that shook the floor and made Fluttershy cling tightly to Rainbow Dash. “Did’ja save that last piece of pizza? Come on, RD. Just one little piece of pizza. An olive? A teeny-tiny roast truffle?”

“No,” snapped Twilight Sparkle, flipping frantically through her book, a dark and ominous tome bound in verdigrised copper bands around a suspiciously pale binding. “There’s got to be an answer in here somewhere. With a startled gasp, she stopped, reading down the page with increasing horror until she flung the book away from her with a panicked screech.

“What is it, Twilight?” gasped Rarity. “Is it something too horrible to describe?”

“Yes,” wailed Twilight. “She’s doomed. We’re all doomed! Look!” She grasped the heavy book in her magic and dragged it back across the floor, slowly, as if it were somehow contagious. With trembling magic, she parted the pages and pointed at the last entry.

Those who have tasted the fruit of the Big Apple are forever within its grasp.

Prince Blueberry Pie

Week 3 - Pinkie Apple Pie - or - Prince Blueberry Pie

When Princess Celestia calls an emergency meeting of the Royal Council, the foundations of Equestria from the highest to the lowest could be shaken by the revelations of one simple party pony and her father.

[Rocks][Royalty][Revisions]

EqD Prompt: While helping Twilight Sparkle with her genealogical research, Pinkie discovers another surprising familial connection. Pinkie heads out to investigate.

Prince Blueberry Pie

“You may be wondering why I’ve called you here together.” Pinkie Pie posed at the front of the council chambers, looking over the six Royal Advisors to Princess Celestia. It was a rather grumpy group, gathered together on short notice at Princess Celestia’s request, but they all were present. Each of the very important ponies represented an important section of the Equestrian government, from the far-traveling Minister of Foreign Affairs to the rather stodgy Minister of the Interior, who was rumored to sleep in his office and only emerge for meetings and retirement parties. They all looked back at Pinkie Pie with various degrees of chill, ranging from a cool glance from Ambassador Dill to a fairly subzero glare emanating from Prince Blueblood, who was seated while still wearing his polo outfit and with his favored polo mallet close at hoof.

“I can’t believe my auntie dragged us all into a meeting on such a wonderful afternoon,” groused Blueblood, shifting his polo mallet in a way that managed to poke both of his nearby fellow councilponies. “I could be out in the polo field, galloping around without a care in the world, but I’m stuck here with all of you.”

“Now Prince Blueblood,” cautioned Princess Twilight. “You should be grateful for your position of responsibility over your fellow ponies. It’s a difficult task at times, and has its share of dangers, but the rewards make the job well worth it. Besides, Pinkie Pie brought a tray of cupcakes.”

“Yeppers! I got a yummy blueberry and alfalfa seed cupcake for Ambassador Dill, because he likes ‘em so much, and a low-fat cream cheese iced pumpkin one for Count DeBits, ‘cause he’s watching his tummy, and—”

“Bah!” Blueblood waved a disparaging hoof. “Peasant food. Not a tart or crepe among them. Auntie!” He rose to his hooves along with the rest of the councilors as Princess Celestia and Princess Luna proceeded into the council chamber, side by side. They both ignored Blueblood’s current complaints while snagging a cupcake on their way by the tray.

“Oh, sister!” Luna floated a chocolate cupcake up to her nose and took a delicate bite. “Double-double chocolate-chocolate with pecans. Exquisite.”

“And a cloud cake cupcake with ice icing.” Celestia took a brief nibble and dabbed her lips with a napkin. “Pure perfection. There’s just one thing wrong.”

“What’s that, Princess?” asked Pinkie Pie, jumping up and down on her cushion.

“You’re in my seat.”

Once Pinkie Pie had been evicted from her spot and placed next to Princess Twilight, the two Diarchs took their seats. The rest of the council waited for them to get comfortable before sitting down on their own cushions, although one or two of them snagged an extra cupcake before the meeting started.

“You may be wondering why I’ve called you here together,” began Celestia, pausing only infinitesimally as the Minister of the Interior snorted frosting over the table. “Recently, a research project led by my student, Princess Twilight Sparkle, discovered something rather surprising in the archives. I have called her and the researcher before us to explain their findings, and for you to advise me on our reaction to them. Pinkie, if you please.”

“Right!” The pink party pony hopped up off her cushion and pulled a large display board out of somewhere. Whirls of loopy writing with circles and arrows darting all across the paper covered every single inch of surface, and with a pointer held securely in one hoof, Pinkie began her presentation.

“As you can see here, this squiggly bit connects to these two circles with a blue line, although I probably should have used a pink line but it would have clashed with these pink spirals here and over here, and you know you just can’t clash with pink. Anyway, those split into wobbly parts and travel over here and here to this triangle where we add two circles and a octiheliedon—”

“Excuse me, Miss Pie? Doctor Whizgig from the Ministry of Education, Enlightenment and Extradimensional Identification here. Those circles are marked ‘eggs.’”

“And the triangle is marked ‘milk’ while you’ve got ‘whisk’ marked on the squiggles,” added Ambassador Dill.

“Well, of course, silly. You can’t make cupcakes without eggs and milk. Well, unless you’re making cupcakes for somepony who is lactose intolerant, in which case you use—”

“Pinkie!” Twilight Sparkle picked up the pointer and rummaged around in her bags. “I told you to pack the — oh, there they are.” A set of genealogical trees floated over, was placed on top of the cupcake recipe, and the newest alicorn princess pointed to the top of the chart.

“As you can see from this family tree of the Pie genealogy, the patriarch of the present Pie family was Blueberry Pie, who originally came from Canterlot over four centuries ago. Married to Blackberry Jam, he traveled to western Equestria to establish one of the first rock farms in the whole country. Over the years, the family grew as they expanded from just rock farms to include kumquat farming and one of Equestria’s biggest pickled pepper plants.”

“Umm,” said Pinkie Pie with a glazed look. “Uncle Piccolo has the best pickled peppers ever.”

“Ah. Right.” Twilight Sparkle flipped the chart to one side and replaced it with another. “Here we have the family tree of the Blueblood family for the same time period. Please note the name at the top of the chart.”

“Antonio Sugarberry Siena Blueblood,” said Princess Celestia with a thoughtful frown. “There was something about him that always made me a little unsettled. The rest of the aristocracy always insisted on using his initials in any correspondence.”

“That’s because Antonio was Berry Pistachio Starburst Blueblood’s brother.”

“That’s preposterous!” Prince Blueblood stood up and pointed at Pinkie Pie with his polo mallet, nearly braining one of his fellow Ministers in the process. “Are you telling me that I’m related to — her?”

“Calm down, Horace.“ Blueblood turned to snap out a sharp response to the pony who had called him by his hated name, but paused rather than shout at his aunt, who was regarding him rather thoughtfully. “Horatio Regal Horace Blueblood, please control your temper and listen to the rest of her presentation. I think you will find it educational. Proceed, Twilight.”

“Thank you, Princess. Once we had identified a link between the families, Pinkie and I went into the archives to continue our research. It was very difficult, but we found the birth records of both Antonio and Berry’s birth.” She levitated a wrinkled sheet of paper out of her bags and onto the middle of the table, where it promptly caught fire and burned to ashes.

“Oops,” said Blueblood. “I only meant to pick it up.”

“That’s fine,” said Twilight, levitating out another sheet of paper onto the table. “I made a dozen copies. As you can see, Antonio was born the year after Berry, making him the younger of the two. As such, the title of Prince should have passed to Berry on the death of his sire, and traveled down the line of succession from there to the present.”

“This is outrageous, Auntie!” snapped Blueblood swinging the polo mallet around the table and making various Ministers duck for cover. “The title of Prince has remained in the Blueblood line for generations. There has been a Blueblood on the council since the first Blueblood, and there will be a Blueblood at this table for as long as there are Bluebloods!”

Celestia nodded. “There is precedent for keeping the title of Prince within the Blueblood line, as well as a good argument for placing the title with the current legal inheritor. The laws of Equestria are a bit fuzzy in that regard, allowing great leeway among the representatives and the aristocracy to assign titles in the event of a dispute. As this is a matter that touches family, it is only proper that my sister and I recuse ourselves from any such decision by this council, but we will accept its decision.”

“Auntie!” Blueblood turned to the rest of the Ministers with a whine. “Guys?”

The Minister of the Interior raised one hoof and waited for the Princesses to nod before speaking. “Who, may I ask, would be the legal inheritor in the event that we decide in their favor?”

The doors at the back of the council chamber opened with a glow of golden magic and a plain stallion walked into the room. For the occasion, he was wearing a slim black tie and decidedly hatless, although despite his lack of headwear, he seemed at ease with the rest of the council.

“Ladies and gentlecolts, may I present Igneous Rock, father to Pinkie Pie and the current legal heir to the title of Prince—”

“No!” whined Blueblood.

“As well as the estates, property and allowances thereof.”

“My house?” whimpered Blueblood. “It’s where I keep all of my stuff.”

“Don’t worry, my nephew,” purred Celestia. “Even if you are stripped of your inheritance, you’ll still have anything you’ve earned with your own labor.”

“You cannot possibly be thinking of giving my title to him, can you? Think of all I’ve done for you.”

“Well, that didn’t take long,” said Ambassador Dill. “Let me have a closer look at that paper.”

The council gathered into a circle and whispered among themselves for a relatively short amount of time before returning to their seats, each with a broad smile.

“Your Highness, we would like to welcome Prince Rock to our membership, and are looking forward to a long and harmonious relationship with him.”

“My house,” whimpered Blueblood, dropping his polo mallet behind the table. “All of my things. I’m bitless.”

“Now don’t you worry none,” said the newly minted Prince Igneous Rock, coming up behind the despondent stallion with a reassuring hoof on one shoulder. “I know what it’s like to have nothing and work your way up from the rocks, so I’d be happy to give you a little something to help you out.”

-~-~-~-~-~-~ * * * ~-~-~-~-~-~-

“Stupid rocks!” Blueblood gave a vicious kick to a lumpy rock sitting in a line with several hundred of its companions, just one of many such lines of rocks that laced over the landscape of the Pie Rock Farm. He regarded the tumbled stone with vitriol for long minutes before bending down and scooting it back in line with the rest, even turning it over so the lichen were properly aligned with the sun.

It seemed natural, for some reason, and the feeling was beginning to frighten him.

Graceful Ponies of the Night

Short description: Luna’s Hoofmaiden Laminia has never flown before. Fortunately she has a teacher. Unfortunately it’s Pumpernickel.

Evening Flight by Mechagen at DeviantArt

Graceful Ponies of the Night
A side-story to Genealogy (or the Mating Habits of Nocturnes Pegasi)

“I swear on Luna’s name that if you’re doing this just to make me look stupid, I’m going to make your life miserable until the day you die.”

“What are you going to do, marry me?” grumbled Pumpernickel while tying the last ribbon into the tail of Princess Luna’s Hoofmaiden.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Pumpernickel moved around to the front edge of the Ponyville library balcony and regarded his grouchy charge, as well as the dozen long ribbons he had just finished tying into her tail. He was one of Luna’s Night Guards, sworn to her service until death, but guarding this particular charge was making him consider that last option with a bit more enthusiasm than he liked. After all, Hoofmaiden Laminia was a Very Important Nocturne Pony in Equestrian society now, assigned to the side of his Dread Sovereign, Princess Luna, Diarch of Equestria, Princess of the Moon and Night, Keeper of the Stars and Planets, Matriarch of Dreams and Ruler of Shadows and most probably Watcher of Stupid Guards From Afar. With her title, Laminia should have been the perfect model of a Nocturne mare, filled with grace and decorum, a pony of class and politeness much like the other seamstress she had been partnered with.

Not quite.

Rarity had gone beyond simple politeness when the two Nocturne had been assigned to her, one for assistance with their little ‘sewing project’ for Princess Luna, and one for security, although he was starting to believe his real role was punching bag. After all, Laminia seemed to have equal amounts of sweetness and bile, and if she was being all sweetness and light to Rarity while they were working on their project, she needed a second pony to vent her spleen against.

Avoiding whispering “Only twenty-nine years until retirement” by the smallest margin, Pumpernickel gestured to the beautiful night that enveloped Ponyville, lit only by the twinkling stars and moon above. The library was the tallest building in town to practice this maneuver from, and Twilight Sparkle had approved the use of the building for training with only a few caveats.

No screaming, no crashing, no breaking in through the windows. We already have a pony for that.

“For training tonight, what we’re going to practice is the swooping takeoff. You’ve already mastered flapping in place and flying over reasonably short distances—” with more flapping than a pegasus towing an anvil “—so tonight we’re going to try swooping. You’ll love it.

“I hate it already.” Laminia peeked over the edge of the balcony while keeping all four shod feet firmly on the balcony floor. “That’s awfully hard ground down there. Shouldn’t we practice this over a lake or something?”

“Only if you want to drown when you’re caught in a downdraft.” What a wonderful idea. No, think about Luna. She actually likes her hoofmaiden, and she would be awfully upset to have to train another one.

Shaking his armored head, Pumpernickel returned to his lecture. “As I was saying, you’re going to love swooping. Our wings are far more suited to swooping down out of the sky than feathered pegasus wings—”

A large owl picked that opportune moment to swoop down out of the sky, darting nimbly between the two Nocturne to vanish into the library, headed to his perch after a successful hunt if the mouse in his beak was any indication.

“As I was saying,” continued Pumpernickel with a brief glare at where Owlicious had disappeared, “our membranous wings allow much more control over soaring and swooping than ordinary pegasus wings. As the only pony race who flies at night, this can be—”

“Excuse me! Pardon me! Excuse me!” A blur of yellow feathers zipped by, followed by a small brown bat with what looked like a teeny, tiny icepack on his head. The little bat looked at the two Nocturne briefly, shook his head, and then darted after Fluttershy into the library, headed downstairs where the first sounds of panicked pegasus could be heard.

“I’m sorry for bothering you this late at night, Twilight, but Flippy here has a very bad headache with pain going down his jawbone and I needed to borrow an anatomy book to see if—”

With a quiet thump, Pumpernickel closed the balcony door and paused.

“You were at ‘only pony race who flies at night,’” said Laminia, with an ill-concealed smirk.

“Right. Anyway, before we get interrupted again, I’d like to have you practice a few swoops. Just stand up there on the balcony, lean forward and drop down towards the ground—”

“Like I can drop anywhere else,” grumbled Laminia.

“—extend your wings, and swoop up into the sky.” He paused with one hoof raised in a dramatic gesture, trying to ignore the skeptical look from his charge.

“So when do I know to open my wings?”

“You’ll know it. Now go on and hop off the balcony.”

“So how do I ‘swoop’ up into the sky?”

“You’ll know it. Now go on, we’ve got other things to practice after we get done with this.”

“You first.” Laminia crossed her forelegs and scowled, a posture he was getting quite familiar with.

“Very well.” Pumpernickel stepped backwards off the balcony and vanished from sight, reappearing moments later as he swooped up into the air in a broad curve that dropped him back onto the balcony with only the lightest of clicking noises from the landing. “Easy.”

“I wasn’t watching. Let’s see it again.”

With a sigh, Pumpernickel repeated his performance, only this time Lamina stuck out a hoof as he plummeted off the balcony. It made him tumble, but a quick snap of the wings and he came rocketing back up into the air, flipping over to land on the balcony with the authoritative smack of armored hooves on tile. “Did you see it that time?”

“Yeah. I think I’m good for the evening. I’m going to go back and work on our project.” Laminia turned to the balcony doors and rattled them. “Locked. Lumpy! Give me the key.”

After a brief moment of confusion, it was the Night Guard’s turn to smirk. “Key? I don’t have a key. Guess we’ll just have to fly out of here.”

Laminia took to the air in a blur of rapidly-beating membranous wings, only to stop a few feet up as Pumpernickel placed one armored hoof firmly on the bundle of ribbons tied to her tail. She hovered in place, tugging at the obstinate weight on the end of her tail before flapping laboriously back down and landing on the balcony with a thud.

“Swoop,” said Pumpernickel.

After a brief second try of the balcony doors on the odd chance they had spontaneously unlocked, Laminia turned to the Night Guard with her customary scowl. “Not until you tell me exactly what I need to do. And don’t give me that ‘You’ll know it’ horseapples. Tell me exactly what it feels like.”

Pumpernickel hesitated, then moved forward to rest both forehooves on the balcony rail. “It’s the greatest feeling you will ever have.”

“Obviously you’ve never had sex.”

“The wind rushing past your ears—”

“Or through, in your case.”

“and the ground coming up at you like some huge hammer. For just one moment, you’re tempted to leave your wings tucked up and smash into the ground.”

“Like an egg.”

“But then the wind calls your name.”

“Lumpy?”

“And your wings open up all by themselves.”

“On impact?”

“It hurts for an instant as they creak under the strain, bending and popping like they’re going to tear off—”

“Lovely.”

“—and flutter to the ground, but you have to lean into the stroke and thrust down with all your might—”

“So you have had sex.”

“—and keep your fat rump from trying to get out in front and lead, which is why I tied those ribbons to your tail.”

“Fat?”

“Then you pull back with your head and point your nose up to a star like you’re going to fly straight into it. Any questions?”

“Just one.” Laminia moved up beside Pumpernickel and placed her forehooves on the rail. “Did you know Twilight Sparkle is sitting behind the balcony door, listening to everything we said?”

“Yes. She’s very noisy. Now I have a question.” Pumpernickel moved closer to his charge and pointed out into the night with one hoof. “Do you see that star?”

Laminia leaned forward, squinting. “I think so. But what does—”

“Swoop to it!” shouted Pumpernickel with an encouraging hoof to the back that sent Laminia pitching over the edge of the rail. She might have been able to open her wings and properly ‘swoop’ if the ribbons on her tail had not coiled around Pumpernickel’s rear ankle and dragged the Night Guard backwards off the balcony in her wake. There was a loud clang as Pumpernickel’s helmet struck the balcony rail, a rather subdued thump as the resulting pendulum effect smacked Lamimia against the library tree, and then a quite solid double-thud as both Nocturne landed in the bushes below.

The night air in Ponyville was nearly silent, with only the sounds of crickets, frogs, and a weak moaning from the library bushes to disturb its tranquility. Purple light spilled over the outside of the Ponyville Golden Oak Library as Twilight Sparkle poked her head over the edge of the library balcony and called out to the Nocturne below.

“Are the two of you all right? Was that the way the lesson was supposed to go?”

“Pay no attention to us, Twilight Sparkle,” sounded Laminia’s voice out of a thick and particularly thorny bush. “Our Royal Guard is teaching us how to swoop. By the way, do you have any bandages?”

One Year Later

The balcony of the Golden Oak Library bore few signs of its previous educational experience, other than a slightly different colored wood where the impact of Pumpernickel’s helmet against the railing had been expertly patched. The night that engulfed Ponyville was as much the same as it ever could be, given that Equestria had a Princess of the Night who liked to rearrange her beautiful stars the way some mares rearranged furniture in their homes. Standing on the edge of the balcony tonight was Princess Twilight Sparkle, her wings outstretched, and a set of ribbons tied into her tail, and beside her was a married Nocturne couple, carefully examining her preparations.

“Are you certain you want to try this?” asked Pumpernickel for the uncounted time. “I understand Rainbow Dash is your regular teacher, and—”

“Yes, I’m absolutely certain,” said Twilight, stretching her wings out and flexing them the way her teacher had trained. “I’ve studied the theory extensively, made my calculations, affixed exactly seven ribbons to my tail to balance the drag and counterbalance my horn. If I wait any longer, I’ll lose my nerve.”

“Don’t push the Princess,” said Laminia, backed up into a corner of the balcony and viewing the spectacle with amusement. “It didn’t work so well for us.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Pumpernickel with a quick smile for his radiant wife. “I think it worked out just—”

“Go!” shouted Twilight as she lurched forward, dropping off the edge of the balcony in a whirl of ribbons — which coiled around Pumpernickel’s back hoof with much the same result as last year.

Strolling casually to the edge of the balcony and avoiding the splintered section of railing where Pumpernickel’s helmet had impacted, Laminia looked down into the library bushes and tried valiantly to avoid laughing.

“Princess Twilight? Are you learning to swoop?”

There was a very long pause as purple light spilled out from the inside of the rosebush, followed by a thrashing noise and matching moans of pain.

“Shutup and get the bandages.”

Best Draconequus

In a few hours, Green Grass was about to become Prince Consort to Princess Twilight Sparkle. That is, provided he could survive Discord’s wedding present. A Traveling Tutor side story.

Week 5 - Three of a Kind -or- Best Draconequus

The day had finally arrived. The day when Green Grass would finally wed the mare of his dreams, a day that had seemed to recede into the distance every time they tried to plan for it.

There was just one little-bitty, teensie problem remaining.

[Vows][Princesses][Water]

Best Draconequus
A side-story to the (in draft form) Third Test of Princess Twilight Sparkle, which is the sequel to The Traveling Tutor and the Librarian and The Traveling Tutor and the Diplomat’s Daughter

The day was as perfect as any day could possibly be, and considering the number of Princesses who had visited the weather pegasi with exhaustive lists of instructions, it was really surprising that there were not a few pegasi with feather dusters tied to their back sweeping across the sky for loose particles of dust or lint. There had been a ‘discussion’ over the exact timing of the wedding, whether to hold it in the middle of the day as the last Royal Wedding had been, or at the stroke of Midnight as Princess Luna had rather forcefully proposed. The compromise, as hammered out by the Royal Equestrian Diplomatic Corps in the Treaty of the Broken Quills, was a touching ceremony administered by both Royal Sisters and planned to reach the exchange of vows at the exact moment of twilight. At which point, three things would happen: Lord Green Grass would become Prince Consort Green Grass the First, every unmarried male royal unicorn in Canterlot between the age of fifteen and fifty would become his mortal enemy, and Pinkie Pie would collect several thousand bits out of the ‘Twilight Wedding Colorwheel’ betting pool.

Green Grass had stayed out of their ~~argument~~ discussion as much as possible, practicing his diplomacy with every possible bit of his rapidly diminishing willpower in order to say absolutely nothing that might be taken as an indication he had taken sides in the Royal Sisters’ dispute. After the ‘discussion’ Twilight Sparkle had with her new ‘nephew’ Prince Blueblood, his instinct for staying out of the line of fire had been vigorously encouraged to the point he had actually checked the train schedule. After all, in the event of a Royal Disaster of Epic Measure, there was always the option of a quick rail trip to Las Pegasus and the All-Night Weddings-While-U-Wait chapel presided over by a rather chubby Elvis Przewalski impersonator, although the negative consequences of that could be rather drastic and possibly involve the direct bludgeoning of the groom with a heavenly object by one or both disappointed Royal Sisters.

At least the hectic schedule that had devoured all of their time over the last few weeks had developed a rather sudden empty spot now that the time to the ceremony could be measured in hours. One of the disadvantages of this many female members of the wedding bridle party was a complete packed bride’s section of the castle containing hundreds of servants, manedressers, seamstresses, cobblers, groomers, and even reportedly one highly overworked masseuse who had been proposed to a dozen times in just the last week.

On his side of the castle, the half-dozen or so groomstallions and such had spent five minutes putting on their tuxedos and running a comb through their manes. Rumor had that Shining Armor was running a quick Ogres and Oblettes game in the resulting slack time, and if not for the certainty that he would be found out and lectured repeatedly, Green Grass had seriously thought about rolling up a Unicorn Illusionist and sitting in on the game.

Instead, he contented himself with looking in the mirror at the hopelessly outclassed earth pony it reflected and contemplating the proper selection of second level illusion spells that he would have picked had the situation been different.

“I don’t think I’d change a thing,” he murmured at the mirror. “At least nothing dramatic.”

His reflection winked once, revealing a set of deep yellow eyes that seemed to be able to look inside his soul. “Really? And I thought Twilight was getting a smart pony to marry her.”

“Discord? What are you doing here?” Green Grass backed away from the mirror and tripped on the carpet, but was caught by the grinning draconequus before he could hit the ground.

“Why, you don’t think I’d crash Twilight Sparkle’s wedding, do you? I have an invitation. It’s in here somewhere.” He opened up his brilliant orange tuxedo and began to pull objects out, ranging from a live chicken to a kitchen sink, finally producing a neatly folded invitation which he opened in front of Green Grass’ nose. It certainly looked like the invitations that had gone out, complete with both Twilight and his beautiful calligraphy signatures, the best bits could buy from a professional forger who had been rehabilitated. Only he was fairly sure the original invitation did not have smooth, looping text that was dancing a gentle waltz around the paper while the signatures had taken advantage of a folded corner to cuddle up and kiss.

“Whoopsie, better save that one for the honeymoon, kids.” Discord tossed the invitation over his shoulder where it burst into butterflies and flew out of the window.

“I… Um…” Screwing up his courage, Green Grass stuck out a hoof and managed to say, “Welcome to our wedding, Discord. Is there anything I can do for you while you’re here?”

“Well, now that you ask…” The draconequus swept forward and wrapped around Green Grass in an affectionate coil that felt vaguely like a cheese sandwich for some reason. “Fluttershy and I been having the worst time finding you and Twilight Sparkle, well, you in particular, a proper wedding gift. I mean, really! I’ve never been invited to a wedding before—”

“I wonder why.”

“—but it just wouldn’t be right to attend this glorious occasion without a gift.”

“I’m sure a book—” started Green Grass before being cut off.

“No! I certainly thought about it—” Discord brought out a book as large as a pony, only with venomous fangs protruding from its cover and a low growling noise that emerged from inside the chain-wrapped binding “—but I’m sure she already has a copy.” He rolled the book up into a scroll and blew across it, sending it up in green smoke that flew out the window.

“Right.” Green Grass contemplated the sad draconequus with a healthy degree of skepticism.

“I know!” A light bulb appeared over Discord’s head with a large arrow on it labeled ‘Idea Time.’ “You were moping about your past when I showed up. How about I give you one free change in your life? Any time in your past, you could just snap your fingers and make it different. That is, if you had fingers. Although—”

“No!” yelped Green Grass, backing up to the other side of the dressing table. “Once was twice too often.” He paused, looking at Discord’s idea light as a second pink bulb appeared next to it, smooched the first, and then dozens of little bulbs began to appear around them. “But if you could show me what changes would happen first, I might consider it.”

“True, true,” said Discord, darting forward with one of the light bulbs to open up Green Grass’ mouth and peer inside. “Wouldn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, now wouldn’t we? There it is. I was wondering where I put that.” With a solid heave, the draconequus pulled out a huge wall-size picture frame from Green Grass’ mouth and hung it on the wall, leaving the groom to waggle his jaw and try not to think about the rules of physics being shattered and ground up into powder around him. “Where do you want to start? When you first met? Your first kiss? Frankly, that would be the first thing I’d edit out of your life, if you ask me.”

“No. I’ve kind of grown to appreciate all of those moments. What I was thinking of was that first picture of us that showed up in the Foal Free Press.”

“No!” gasped Discord, producing a scrapbook marked ‘My Favorite Moments’ and opening it up to the center where a dozen clipped out articles were bound in little chains and manacles. “That was my favorite part of your story. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her more embarrassed as when I tried to get her to autograph that picture. How about…”

~~*~~

Hours later, a shy yellow pegasus slipped into the room and regarded the two mismatched males, who were totally engrossed in some sort of display against the wall. With a last mumbled, “Well, that wouldn’t work,” Green Grass turned from their activity to greet her with a smile and a nod. “Hello, Fluttershy. Is the wedding still running on schedule?”

“Um. Actually, they sent me here to see if you could hurry up a little. We got a little distracted when a giant carnivorous book attacked Princess Celestia, but Twilight had it scheduled on her checklist, so we all finished up with our outfits just on time. You’re just a teensy bit late.”

“Just like Twilight Sparkle,” chortled Discord before a rather sharp glance from Fluttershy made him straighten up, and with a poof of displaced air, all the popcorn containers and other debris vanished from the room.

“Oh! I didn’t watch the clock! Go tell them I’ll be right there! Please?” Green Grass dashed around the room, slipping into his glossy black shoes and grabbing his hat with one smooth move before pausing partway out the door. “Discord?”

“What? I’m innocent as the new fallen snow.” Driven by a thousand tiny lightbulbs, a radiant light beamed down on the draconequus, highlighting a golden halo, two white feathery wings, and a broad smile that simply spelled innocence, although there were a few misspellings in the letters.

“I just wanted to say… Thank you.”

“What? I assure you, whatever it is you think I”ve done, it’s somebody else’s fault entirely. Like him.” Discord pointed at Discord across the room, who promptly pointed back, which quickly degraded into an entire room full of pointing claws and paws between multiple draconequuses, if there was such a word.

“You know better.” Green Grass waved at the picture frame on the wall, showing himself and Twilight sitting in a crowded restaurant, each totally unaware of the other. “With all the stress this wedding has put us through, I would have just tied myself in knots without a distraction, and showing me all the different ways that my life could have been different was a wonderful distraction. They each reminded me of how lucky the two of us are to have met each other, and to have friends like you.”

“Moi?” A room full of Discords each pointed to themselves.

“Yes, I only wish I could return the favor.”

“Well…” The room full of draconequuses (draconequui?) flashed and a single Discord draped himself over Green Grass’ shoulder. “Regarding the seating arrangements for Reformed Chaotic Beings, there is just this one teensy little thing.”

~~*~~

“Good Evening, Princess Celestia.” Green Grass bowed to his Diarch, surrounded on all sides by the peace and tranquility of the Private Royal Gardens for just the next few minutes until his wedding schedule had him walking down the path (37 paces) to pause at the entrance (7.8 seconds) and look at the guests in a formal and compassionate way (no scratching, nose-wrinkling, or any other funny faces), then proceed in a dignified pace (2.2 paces per second) to his place of honor at the evening ceremony (marked with a pair of small green Gs on the carpet, both G-Left and G-Right). There was only the smallest of dry coughing to break the silence as Princess Celestia, Sol Invictus, and soon to be Sister-In-Law regarded her prospective new relative with the calm serenity that only a princess could radiate. There was a subtle twitch at the corner of Celestia’s mouth and a definite sparkle in her ancient eyes as she looked over the immaculately dressed groom, from his glossy shoes to the perfect top hat that crowned his head. Finally, she met his eyes with a slow shake of her own head and a question.

“Is everything going well this afternoon, Greenie?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I wouldn’t change a thing.” The coughing increased in volume fractionally, and Green Grass could not help but smile. “Actually, there is just one thing.” He gestured at the flower in his lapel, a multicolored cross between a nasturtium and an orchid, if the tentacles and yellow eyes were any indication. The raspy coughing of a misplaced kernel of popcorn only grew louder as the ‘flower’ hacked and gasped, its petals beginning to curl up and develop brown dry spots.

“Could I trouble somepony for a teensy, tiny glass of water, please?”

On deCrosse and Bluebelle

(Short description)
Princess Bluebelle throws a fit over her upcoming wedding, and Elusive finds himself powerless against the Royal Snit. However, Prince Solaris has a little something extra in reserve to overcome his niece's tantrum. Rarity.

(Long description)
The wedding of Princess Bluebelle and Prince de Cross was to be the event of the century, even more glamorous and fantastic than Prince Cadence and Captain Shining Armour’s rather dramatic wedding. But when the Princess throws a royal hissy-fit on the day before her wedding, Prince Solaris finds it necessary to help Elusive with the wedding plans in a truly unique fashion.

After all, fashion is Rarity’s passion. Well, one of them.

[Twits][Princesses][Snits]

Week 6 - Pinkie Pride -or- On a deCrosse and Bluebelle
Based on the R63 story On a Cross and Arrow by Conner Cogwork

“Ruined! Absolutely ruined! This was to be my special day, and you have absolutely destroyed my life!” Bits and pieces of wedding dress went flying around the dressing room as Princess Bluebelle stormed and ranted at her wedding planner, who was cowering in the corner in the midst of a pile of expensive ceramic shards. Another hard-flung expensive vase came crashing at Elusive, who caught it in his blue magical field and tried to set it back on a display pillar while attempting to calm the unicorn princess yet again. He was having little luck with either.

“Princess! Please! I know you’re angry—” Elusive cut off as the enraged princess grabbed the vase in her magic and flung it again, this time scoring a hit on the wall over his head and raining tiny bits of shattered ceramic down onto his immaculate white coat and frazzled purple manestyle.

“You’re doing this intentionally! You’ve always hated me! My uncle, Lord Solaris, will have your head!” The blonde unicorn princess glared viciously around the room, seeking more breakables to fling at her cowering wedding planner.

“I know who your uncle—”

“I should have known from the first time I set eyes on you in the Gala, that you wanted me broken and shattered, a crushed mare who would cower at your hooves. Get out of my sight, you cad! Out!” The cowering Elusive darted for the open door, pausing at the doorway to call back one final question but giving a yelp of fear as he dove into the hallway, slamming the door behind as a barrage of items began to smash into it.

The two Royal Guards outside the door did not even blink at his abrupt appearance, seeming quite secure in their golden armor and their job of protecting Her Royal Highness, Princess Bluebelle the Forty-Second from any danger, rather than protecting others from her. The older of the two, a middle-aged mare with a kind smile, offered him a hoof up.

“Thank you, Wisteria.” Elusive shook his mane and cringed at the rattle of tiny fragments and plaster dust that sifted onto the immaculate hallway floor.

“Things not going well with our delicate little princess?” asked the guard, wincing only slightly as the sounds of breakables cut off and the wailing and sobbing resumed inside the room.

“I’m afraid I’m at my wit’s ends with her. No matter what I say or do, she just will not listen to reason. The wedding is tomorrow, and she’s driven away every single assistant or partner I’ve found! I‘m starting to think she’s doing this all out of spite.”

The guard clucked her tongue and dusted a few loose bits of vase off Elusive’s shoulder. “Now, there. Tartarus may have no fury like a mare scorned, but even Princess Bluebelle will have to straighten up by tomorrow morn—” The door fairly tore itself open as Princess Bluebelle flung herself down the hallway, leaving a trail of tears in her wake as she headed for her rooms. “Yeah, you’re bucked.”

The clatter of immaculately clad hooves preceded the arrival of Prince deCrosse, a tall Prench stallion with an immaculately groomed mane of midnight black, contrasting perfectly against his creamy golden coat and flashing blue eyes, which quickly locked onto Elusive with the panic of a thousand grooms.

“Ma petit Belle, she is gone? I heard her beautiful voice all the way from the other side of the castle, and I say, Prince, your bride, she is distraught and needs your presence to calm her. Which way has the flower of my life gone, so that I may speak with her?” The guard pointed wordlessly down the hallway, and the Prench stallion darted away, calling out to his beloved as he turned the corner.

Elusive sniffed, and pulled a kerchief from his suit jacket to dab his eyes. “It’s all my fault. I should have known better than to try. The wedding will be ruined, and Prance will retaliate against Equestria. There will be trade tariffs and boycotts, and our nation’s supply of conditioner will be cut off, and everypony will have their manes tangle up and look like Bubble Berry! It will be the end of civilization, and everypony will know it’s my fault!” With an anguished sob, the fashion designer slumped in a faint as a bright red couch slid under his side. “Ruined,” he called out from the couch. “Lord Solaris will never forgive me! He’ll banish me to the farthest corner of Equestria where they probably don’t even have fashion!”

“I’m certain that wherever you go, Elusive, fashion will follow.” The deep tenor of Lord Solaris’s voice cut through Elusive’s tears, and he looked up to see the compassionate face of the Prince of the Sun, Diarch of Equestria, and Uncle of the Bride looking back at him from over the back of the couch. There was not a golden or fiery red hair in his goatee out of place, and his magnificent mane and tail streamed behind in the flaming colors of the dawning sun.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness!” sobbed the fashion designer, holding one foreleg over his face to hide his shame. “It’s impossible! The only thing that could be worse is—” Elusive looked up with a sudden burst of hope. “Do you think she’s a changeling?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” said Solaris with a soft smile. “I checked them both. Twice.”

“Oh. Well, do you think you could write a quick letter to King Metamorphosis and get him to loan us one of his drones? It would only be for one day, and we could swap the real Princess back as soon as—”

“No,” he said with a quirk to the side of his mouth that turned the edges up fractionally.

“Then I’m doomed,” moaned Elusive, throwing himself back onto the couch. “There’s nopony in the world who could save this wedding.”

“Well, not in this world,” said Solaris with a growing smile.

* * *

“Bluebelle? I’ve got somepony that you want to meet.”

Princess Bluebelle glared at the open door and at her uncle, standing calmly in the doorway as if the world was not actually coming to an end and her life was not going to be reduced to ashes and dirt. Prince deCross stumbled to his hooves from where he had been kneeling at the side of her agony couch for the last several hours, bowing to Lord Solaris with a sweep of one foreleg that exposed his delightful rump with the four silver crowns to Bluebelle, raising her spirits for a moment. And in that moment, her uncle gestured another pony into the room.

She was an elegant unicorn mare, dressed in a fine silk outfit that contrasted well with her long, graceful violet mane and sweeping tail, a true measure of beauty and grace who would set the hearts of any red-blooded Equestrian stallion racing, and who’s eyes rested ever so briefly on Prince deCrosse before turning their evaluating gaze on her. The mare seemed familiar from somewhere, and as she slowly paced into the room, Bluebelle could not help but think she had seen the heartbreaker somewhere before.

What was worse, Prince deCrosse was watching her with great interest too.

“M’Lady Rarity, I would like to introduce my niece, Princess Bluebelle. Honey, this is Lady Rarity, the most exclusive fashion designer in Equestria.” Turning to the beautiful mare, Uncle Solaris bowed slightly and asked, “On this short notice, do you think you can produce a wedding gown to show the world her beauty, M’Lady?”

The unicorn mare strode closer, examining Bluebelle with the most peculiar thoughtful expression from behind her red gem-studded glasses before turning with a flick of her tail and heading for the door. “No, Lord Solaris. She is too beautiful. Anything that I would place upon her body would only look plebeian and tawdry by comparison. I shall return your commission, so I do not embarrass you in front of all the wedding guests by producing anything that would detract from her natural appeal. I’m sorry, My Lord.”

“Uncle Solly!” Bluebelle clutched a soaked kerchief to her chest and reached for the retreating fashionista, turning bloodshot eyes at Lord Solaris as the door closed behind her curled purple tail. “Go get her! Stop her! Bring her back at any cost! I need her, and only her to create my dress! I’m not going to appear at my wedding—” One spotless hoof highlit with sparkly pale blue gloss touched her lips at the horror of the thought “—naked!”

“I’m sorry, Honey.” Lord Solaris sighed and rolled his eyes. “It was all I could do to get her here on such short notice. I’m afraid I’m out of influence.”

“Don’t fear, My Princess,” said Elusive from the side of the room where he had been quietly observing. “I shall pursue the fair Rarity and plight my — I mean present your dilemma in the most convincing terms possible. With her natural talent and skills, your wedding shall be an event spoken about for centuries, never to be exceeded in mortal memory. Why, the fashion world shall simply blaze with the ideas you will incite as you stride into the Royal Throne Room in a shimmering gown of—” Elusive staggered briefly, as if perhaps a Royal Horn had prodded him gently in the side with its magic. “Oh, yes. Rarity! Please wait! I must speak with you!” The handsome fashion designer galloped out of the room, his curled purple tail vanishing behind the closed door in nearly the exact same way as the previous departing fashion designer.

“Oh, Uncle!” breathed Bluebelle while wiping away a last tear. “Do you think he can talk Lady Rarity into saving my wedding?”

Solaris smiled, and the room brightened as if the sun had emerged from behind a bank of clouds.

“I think you would be surprised.”

* * *

Elusive galloped around the corner of the corridor, only to be grabbed vigorously by the neck and swept into a passionate hug and kiss that seemed to last forever. Finally, a mutual lack of air caused the two unicorns to pause in their lip-lock to exchange a few gasped words.

“Darling!”

“Sweetheart!”

After a second kiss of slightly more organized fashion, Elusive held a hoof to his chest and declaimed, “You were magnificent, Love. She fairly begged me to chase you down and convince you to create a new wedding dress.”

Rarity giggled. “As if it would take any convincing. She’s beautiful, darling. I shall create a dress that shall fling down the pillars of fashion and break the hearts of every stallion at the wedding. Except yours.” She leaned in for another kiss and whispered, “How long do you think it should take you to ‘convince’ me?”

“A long, long time,” whispered Elusive.

The Royal Throne Room was packed with the cream of Canterlot society, all of whom sucked in a breath of amazement as Princess Bluebelle stepped onto the red carpet and began to stride. Her wedding dress was simply amazing, in folds of silk and satin that flowed like ocean waves in her wake highlighting the thin lines of pure gold and priceless jewels woven into her mane and tail.

Lord Artemis and Lord Solaris at the front of the room could not help but smile at the view of the backs of so many heads, and Artemis leaned up to whisper into his big brother’s ear. “Nice work, Solly. Six months every year of peace and quiet, with no Bluebelle. I owe you one.”

Lord Solaris blinked back a tear from his sparkling violet eyes and leaned down for a moment to whisper back at his little brother. “I have a debt of my own, bro. I just hope Elusive is up to Lady Rarity’s challenge.”

* * *

In a private balcony overlooking the ceremony from a respectable distance, the two ponies responsible for the bride’s magnificent dress and the matching glorious suit for the groom regarded their creations with only small glances cast at each other. After all, they were in public for the wedding, but afterwards, there would be time for… other things.

“Aren’t they just darling, darling?” whispered Rarity. “I was so impressed by your world the first time we visited, and I thought I would never get the opportunity to visit again.”

“As did I, dearest. I swear, I shall make it up to you once the happy couple have departed. There are so many places I want to show you in our world. Josephine’s Eclair shop, Fancy Skirt’s design studio, Galeria’s Gallery…” Elusive trailed off at the touch of Rarity’s hoof, and turned to look at a shy smile on the face of the beautiful fashionista.

“Alas, darling, once the wedding is over, I must depart to my own world. But fear not, for the currents of our two worlds circulate in much the same patterns, and where your Lord Solaris had a task for me suitable for my skills, my Princess Celestia and I have just a teensy little problem of our own which is perfectly matched for someone of your talents.”

Rarity unfolded a piece of paper and floated it over to Elusive, who regarded it with wide-eyed fascination and a overpowering grin that threatened to split his face in two.

You are cordially invited to the wedding of Prince Blueblood and Princess laCroix…

Author's Note

Note: Please check out pictures of Lord Solaris and Elusive from the talented Trotsworth on DeviantArt. There’s also a wonderful picture of Solaris on Theuselesstoe Tumblr.

The Flying Bookworm and the Weather Princess

When Rainbow Dash finds herself short on time to prepare for the Advanced Weather Certification test, Twilight Sparkle volunteers to help keep the skies together while she’s studying.

After all, how hard can it be?

[Dangerous Skies][Unprepared Princesseses Sparkle][Shipping]

EqD prompt: It's opposite day in Equestria! Write about someone swapping roles for a time.

Week 7
Simple Ways
-or-
The Flying Bookworm and the Weather Princess

A persistent knocking on the front door echoed through the Ponyville Golden Oak library, echoing around the empty first floor, up the stairs, and through the open door to Princess Twilight Sparkle’s quite occupied bedroom. The Princess pried one eye open to look at the clock, which still displayed a set of numbers much too small for proper morning activities to commence considering the amount of stargazing that she had done last night, and considering that the library was not supposed to open for — she took another look at the clock — two minutes, thirty-seven seconds.

Muttering a set of words that was supposed to be, “Just a minute. I’ll be right there,” Ponyville’s newest (and only) princess dangled one hoof out of bed, placing just enough weight on it to determine that the structural stability of the limb had been compromised by fatigue poisons enough to render such a trip impossible.

The knocking continued.

Twilight considered the amount of magic needed to soundproof her bedroom, compared it to the amount of magic needed to teleport downstairs, carried the two, and heaved herself out from under the covers.

Five minutes and thirty-two seconds of knocking later, a very frumpy Princess-Librarian fumbled the front door to the library open with her magic only to see something that woke her up faster than Princess Luna’s Coffee Treacle.

It looked like Rainbow Dash standing in the dawn sunlight. One changeling detection spell later, Twilight had narrowed the possibilities down to:

A) The universe was lying to her.
B) There was some sort of national emergency.
C) Luna was playing around with a dream again.
D) More coffee.

* * *

One pot of genuine ebon goodness later, with three sugars and a generous gloop of cream, Twilight very carefully arranged her mental notes and attempted to summarize Rainbow Dash’s last half-hour of sleepy rambling.

“So you need to borrow a library book to study for your Advanced Weather Certification test. Why didn’t you just fly in through the open window like you do all the time?”

Rainbow yawned, groping blindly for the cup of coffee Twilight had poured her. “That’s just for crashin’ into. This is official. Test is next week — good coffee by the way — so I figured I’d spend a little time in the morning this week going over the notes. I got my mornings free.” She dropped into her coffee cup, nose first, and began making a noise much like a drowning percolator.

“Ooo, this is going to be so exciting!” Twilight gulped down the rest of her coffee and darted out into the main room, her voice trickling back into the kitchen where Rainbow was licking the bottom of her coffee cup. “The weather section has always been on my to-do list, but now that I’ve got wings, I’ve been meaning to move it up on my schedule.”

“Yeah, yeah. Schedule.” Rainbow Dash plodded out into the library with one hoof wrapped around a new cup of coffee and walked over to the bookshelf that Twilight was hovering near. “Look for something called The AWC Made Simple by W. Whistler. There’s supposed to be a copy in each library in Equestria. Just gimmie it, and I’ll flip through it at home. No problem.”

“Uh, Rainbow? There may be a problem.” One thick tome over a hoof thick slid out of the shelves, followed by a second, and a third. “Do you want the sample tests too? Yes, I suppose.” A fourth heavy book slid off the shelves, and Twilight Sparkle levitated them over to a nearby table, sitting them down with a solid thump.

“Oh, ponyfeathers.” Rainbow Dash plunked down at the table and opened the first book, leafing through it with rapidly diminishing enthusiasm. “I need this certification to move up to the next step in Wonderbolt training. They don’t just do stunts; they also do the really dangerous weather like hurricane steering and disarming standing lenticular clouds. If I don’t pass this test next week, I’ll be put back a whole year!”

“Don’t worry, Rainbow. According to the index here, you should be able to work your way through the book, the study guide, and the sample tests in the week you have available.”

“That’s the problem,” moaned Rainbow. “I don’t have a whole week to just study. The weather team is down about six ponies from full, and we’ve got a whole set of spring rains scheduled all this week. The only substitute pegasus we’ve got available is Derpy, and I know she means well, but… Derpy.”

“How about bringing in some pegasi from the surrounding area to take up the slack while you’re studying?”

“No can do, Twi. Spring rains are the busiest time of the year. Every city in Equestria has got everypony with wings out—” The weather pegasus stopped and looked at Twilight with a huge and growing grin. “Almost everything with wings.”

* * *

“So, Your Highness, what would you like to work with first? You can sit over here while we move the clouds over to Sweet Apple Acres for this morning’s rain, or watch—

Twilight Sparkle regarded the weather pony who Rainbow had assigned to escort her around for the week. She hadn’t seen Thunderlane since that tornado fiasco, and although he was a handsome pegasus, he seemed to just fall to pieces around her. Finally, after listening to him ramble for a sufficient amount of time to be polite, she interrupted.

“Thank you, Thunderlane, but I’m up here to help out while Rainbow Dash is taking time to study for her AWC test, not just sit on a poofy cloud and watch other ponies work. Now what do we need to do first? Do you have a checklist? And please, call me Twilight.”

“Um. Yeah.” Thunderlane shifted positions on the cloud and pulled out a wrinkled scrap of paper with a series of scribbles on it. “It’s going to be a pretty busy day. Are you sure you’re up for it Princess Twilight? I mean Twilight?”

“Absolutely. I mean, how difficult can it be?”

* * *

The Ponyville Golden Oak library was silent except for the faint rustle of turning pages and the scratch of scribbled notes. Although Spike had offered his services in researching, a few minutes of wading through weather terminology and he quickly decided his best role was to deal with any library patrons and allow Rainbow to study on her own.

“You can do this, Rainbow Dash. It’s only weather, and you’ve been busting clouds since you could fly. True, they’re not multivortex tornadoes…”

She paused and read out loud. “Three-core multivortex tornadoes require a team of six pegasi to safely unwind using the Filbert Flyby maneuver, although as few as four can still accomplish the same task with the much longer Cloudy Cuthburt’s Countercircular Collapse. See Appendix B.8 for additional details. This is impossible!”

“Hey, Dashster. Looks like I got here just in time.” Soarin dropped in through the library skylight and landed next to Rainbow Dash in a small flurry of scribbled notes. “Just dropping by to see how everypony in your academy class is doing and I find you trapped inside on this beautiful day. Wana go flying?”

“All righ—” Rainbow Dash stopped with the books thrown halfway across the table before pulling them back over to her chair and sitting down. “Darn it, Soarin! I can’t. I’ve got this darned advanced weather test coming up—”

“And you haven’t studied a minute for it, am I right?” Soarin stood at the side of the table, tapping one hoof until the peeved polychromatic pegasus nodded with a powerful pout.

“It’s not fair! Everything I’ve dealt with so far has been all instinct and reflex. This stuff takes studying!”

“And the ability to be absolutely right every time,” agreed Soarin. “You peel off the wrong way while trying to steer a Class 5 Hurricane and we’ll be picking pieces of colorful pegasus out of the ocean for weeks.”

“Yeah.” Rainbow Dash flopped the book open again before Soarin dropped a hoof in the middle of it.

“Tell you what. How would you like it if I brought over my notes tonight from when I took the AWC test and we have a little study session. I’ve got a few days rest leave coming up, and nothing says I can’t give you a little help. Spitfire would kill me if you flunk your test while I’m lounging around in Las Pegasus, watching the fillies.”

“You’d do that? Cool!” Taking a deep breath, Rainbow Dash ran a hoof through her mane and tried to look cool. “That is… Yes.”

“Great! It’s a date.” Soarin winked broadly before zipping up into the air and out the skylight, leaving Rainbow Dash in slack-jawed amazement.

“Wait a minute. Date?”

* * *

“You’re doing better, Princess. I mean Twilight. You actually hit this one kind of square and got it to dump most of its rain on the ground, although you should probably check for anypony below next time.” Thunderlane waved weakly at the furious earth pony standing in her carrot patch, soaked to the skin. She returned the gesture with some descriptive motions and expletives he had never heard before.

“Shut up and pull me out of the cloud,” came Twilight Sparkle’s muffled voice in response. She had hit this one head-first, and nothing was sticking out in front of her cutie mark. Still, it had gone better than the thundercloud she had accidently set on fire, the hailstones in an isolated section of Sweet Apple Acres, or the waterlogged pets surrounding Fluttershy’s house and her new moat. “What’s next on the schedule?”

“Wheat!” announced Thunderlane. “Got a few hundred acres south of town that needs a good, long soak today. It seems a paperwork issue shortchanged them water over the winter, and now we’re going to need to pay special attention to keeping it watered while avoiding various rusts and blights that can be promoted by excess moisture.”

“You seem very knowledgeable about farming,” said Twilight once they began pushing clouds over to the wheat fields.

“You mean, for a pegasus, right?” Thunderlane rolled his eyes at Twilight’s abrupt protest and continued, “I like to keep up on things we’re helping with, but sometimes there’s only so many hours in the day. I’m about two weeks behind on the Weekly Hooves And Topics Book Club every since the spring rains started, but I should get caught up once summer gets into full swing.”

“You’re a member of the WHAT club too?” Twilight Sparkle flapped a little harder to push her cloud up next to Thunderlane as they began to assemble rainclouds over the vast expanse of green wheat. “Two weeks ago would put you either at the end of Contrails Over Stalliongrad by Elegant Teal, or just starting—”

“Actually I skipped Contrails after a few paragraphs and have been working on Diary of Nightmare Moon instead. Teal just can’t write a good sky scene, and her errors were just too distracting.” Thunderlane shoved a cloud into place on the assembling overcast and flew back with Twilight to get the next one. “I mean, she has cirrus clouds underneath a thunderhead, of all things. That’s such a rookie mistake for an author to make. And then…”

* * *

“And another perfect score for the perfect filly.” Soarin closed the test answer book and yawned in perfect synchronization with Rainbow Dash. “Holy cats, look at the time. I’ll get back to Cloudsdale just in time to catch a cup of coffee and start flying back here for tomorrow’s study session.”

“I thought you said it was a date, you heartbreaker,” said Dash with a second yawn. “B’sides, I’ve got a second bed for Scootaloo. You can crash at my place so we can get started early tomorrow. Can’t believe I said that.”

Soarin stood up and pushed the book to the center of the table. “What, that I can stay overnight at your place?”

“No, that I was going to get started early tomorrow. Egghead’s rubbing off on me. Come on, before we fall asleep on the table and shock Spike in the morning.”

Soarin paused as a thought occurred to him after they flew out the skylight. “Hey Dash, you don’t think Princess Twilight is sleeping over with Thunderlane, do you? I didn’t hear her come back yet, and it’s awfully late.”

“Thunderlane?” Rainbow spared her study buddy an unbelieving look. “He’s as big of an egghead as she is. The two of them are probably off discussing literary theory or something.”

* * *

“I am going to die,” mumbled Twilight Sparkle, lying spread-eagled on a cloud under the night sky with her wings buried in the soft cool cloudstuff.

“Told you not to overdo it,” said Thunderlane, lying beside her with his wings in much the same position. “Just let them soak for an hour and that should take some of the swelling out. I thought you said Dash had been training you?”

“Flying practice, yes. Shoving tons of raincloud around all day long from sunrise to dark, no. What if they fall off? I haven't had them very long. Maybe the glue will come undone or something. Wonder if they’re under warrantee.”

“You’re just tired. Tell you what, why don’t we watch the stars for a while, and then I’ll fly you home.”

“D’wanna go home. W’na keep this cloud foreeeeeeever.” Twilight wriggled around a bit, tunneling deeper into the cool surface until she could get all four legs under it, leaving nothing showing but her nose and her distracting rump.

“Stars!” said Thunderlane, turning back to look at an entirely different heavenly body. “Yes, stars. Like the constellation of Booty over… I mean Boötes over there. Yeah. Did you know the astronomer Plotlemy traced the constellation over two thousand years ago, and named it for his cow lover?” In response, he heard nothing but a snore and a faint moan of pain. Looking over, the Princess of Friendship was completely out cold with only a whistling snore and a small spot of purple nose and horn to show the cloud was occupied.

With a shake of his head to scatter any leftover cloud bits, Thunderlane grabbed their sleeping cloud and started to push. There was no way it would fit into the library, but at least cloud homes were able to be remodeled on the spur of the moment, and he had always wanted a second bedroom.

* * *

“Rainbow, you’re out of coffee.” The beatific scent of freshly cooked haycon and eggs filled Rainbow Dash’s home, dragging the pooped pegasus out of her bedroom and trudging into the small kitchenette. Soarin had both of the the frying pans she owned put to good use, as well as every plate (both) and cup (also both) ready to collect their bounty. “Also you’re out of eggs, milk, pancake batter, butter, toast, and jam now.”

“Whoa.” Rainbow Dash took a long look at the food before diving in with knife and fork. “I had no idea what kind of benefits came with studying to be a Wonderbolt.”

“You should taste my pie.” Soarin flipped the last pancake out of the pan and over to the table with one expert toss. “I don’t get to do this very often at work. The cafeteria does all the cooking, and we do all the flying. Sometimes it’s nice to be appreciated for something more than your wings, don’t you think, Rainbow?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate those bad boys too, does it?” Rainbow grinned through pancake bits as Soarin blushed. “Now come on. The library’s got coffee, and we’ve got studying to do. I just hope Twilight is out of the library and back in the air. She’s probably doing some egghead thing now.”

* * *

“Help. Guards. Your Princess needs a rescue,” moaned Twilight as she was roughly rolled over on the cloud.

“Well, you’re the one who slept all night that way. Tuck your wing up a little so I can get better leverage on those quads.” Thunderlane resumed his massage down Twilight Sparkle’s side, working his way down the knots and lumps of mistreated muscles with little squeaks and moans from his patient. His room seemed different than she had expected, with more books and fewer trophies, although Twilight's view on what a pegasus house looked like was severely warped by her exposure to Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash. One nearby book became enveloped in a magenta aura and Twilight floated it closer to read while she was being pummelled.

“The History of Roan by Titus Liverius Patavinus. Not exactly Rainbow Dash’s reading material, is it?”

“We all have our little corners of the literary world,” grunted Thunderlane as he worked a particularly difficult muscle. “Cloud Kicker reads racy romances, Blossomforth reads non-racy romances, Raindrops has her Spider-Mare comics. I read histories.”

“I lived with history for over ten years,” said Twilight with a grunt. “You should hear some of the stories Princess Celestia tells about those ‘historians’ and their idea of what Truth should have been.”

“I would love to hear them, Princess Twilight.” One purple wingtip popped him gently in the face. “I mean, Twilight, of course.”

“Shut up and rub my back a little more, handsome. We’ve got clouds to move today, and you can apologize over breakfast at Sugarcube Corner.”

~~*~~

One week later

“A perfect score! I can’t believe it. And I owe it all to you.” Rainbow Dash kissed her instructor gently and snuggled up closer in the bed. “A perfect score.”

“Well, I don’t know about perfect. I think there’s room for improvement, with practice.” He kissed her back, giggling as she licked his nose in revenge. “So, I thought you would want to fly back to the library and tell Twilight Sparkle the good news first instead of celebrating in this particular way.”

“Nope. Not there. I looked. Secret.” Rainbow Dash punctuated her words with kisses, ending in a huge I’ve-got-a-secret grin that just begged to be revealed.

“A Pinkie Promise secret?” He nuzzled up one ear and was promptly smacked by an opening wing. “Tell or I bite.”

“Nooooo… Ok. But that doesn’t mean you can’t nibble. I checked with Spike. She hasn’t been back to the library all week except once to check out a book.”

“The Egghead’s Guide to Weather?” he hazarded, with a nibble.

“Nope! An original edition of the Pony Sutra, with illustrations.”

“Oh? Oh!” Soarin looked in the direction of Thunderlane’s house. “I thought I heard thunder from over there. Did you know that alicorns are rumored to be able to have—” Soarin whispered into Rainbow’s ear, making her turn pink and giggle.

“I think I hear a challenge. Since you still have the day off, let’s see about breaking that record.”

“Yes, Princess Dash. Your wish is my desire.”

“You got that backwards,” whispered Rainbow Dash, moving in for a kiss.

Now Appearing All This Week - Nightmare and the Apocalypse

Week 8 - Filli Vanilli -or- Now Appearing All This Week — Nightmare and the Apocalypse!

Princess Luna has returned! And she’s putting the band back together.

Banished a thousand years ago for trying to cover the world in eternal darkness, Nightmare Moon has returned to shake the foundations of Equestria. No stodgy old stallion with a hearing aid is safe, no nubile young filly with a bedroom full of Caneighdian colt-band posters will be untouched as the greatest Punk Rock Band of All Times returns to Canterlot for the concert of the millenia. Give it up, fillies and gentlecolts, for the Goddess of the Electric Guitar, the Mare of Metal, our beloved Princess of Power, the one, the only…

PRINCESS LUNA!

[Rock][And][Roll]

EqD prompt: A new singing group has taken over Canterlot! Unfortunately one of their members is causing all sorts of trouble!

Week 8 - Filli Vanilli
-or-
Now Appearing All This Week — Nightmare and the Apocalypse!

Streams of rainbow light cascaded through the Elements of Harmony and their bearers, swirling together in a mighty blast of magic that surrounded Nightmare Moon. Light filled the entire ancient throne room as the blast resonated, shaking dust out of the rafters and vibrating the floor as if a giant guitar string that stretched from Equestria to the Moon had been plucked rather violently.

Then there was nothing.

The silent crumbling throne room remained, with six unconscious fillies just beginning to stir awake in the radiant beam of light that poured in through the broken windows. The banished Princess Celestia appeared in a flash of sunlight, greeted with immeasurable joy by her student, before the two of them turned to regard the unmoving blue figure where Nightmare Moon had been standing.

“Now if only another would allow the magic of friendship into their heart as well. Princess Luna!” The blue figure jolted in reaction, turning to regard her sister with bloodshot eyes. Princess Celestia continued with a soft smile, “It has been a thousand years since I have seen you like this. Time to put our differences behind us. We were meant to rule together, little sister.”

“Sister?” asked Twilight Sparkle.

“Yes, sister,” said the blue figure, rising to her hooves and spreading her wings in a long stretch. “Once we ruled all of Equestria, together. But my sister became soft, her power lessening as the years wore on. She lost what made us both great. Isn’t that right, Celestia?”

Princess Celestia stepped backwards, sweeping Twilight Sparkle behind her with one wing. “B-but, the Elements of Harmony! They cleansed you of your dark powers!”

“I need no dark powers to rule, Celestia,” bellowed Luna as she rose into the air, an aura of malevolence surrounding her and whipping the wind into a fury. “We shall return to Canterlot, and all of Equestria will see just why you banished me to the moon for a thousand years! Beware, Celestia, for Nightmare shall live again!”

The ancient throne room resounded to a deafening crack of lightning, and when the air cleared, Princess Luna was gone, leaving only the smell of scorched stone and a resounding echo to show she had ever been there. Twilight Sparkle rushed to her mentor, the one who had trained her for the last decade and who she trusted more than a mother. Celestia’s face was pale and her vibrant mane fell limply against her back as she gasped for air, her eyes looking out the window at where Canterlot stood proudly against the mountains.

“Princess Celestia, what’s wrong? What’s happening? Is Princess Luna going to destroy Equestria in eternal darkness?”

“It’s worse than that, Twilight,” gasped Celestia. “She’s getting the band back together.”

(MetalLuna by Gonzahermeg, used with permission)

The quiet shop filled with dusty items of questionable lineage resided in a peaceful neighborhood of Canterlot, at least most of the time, and it took an individual with a powerful sense of need to locate it, let alone gather the willpower to go inside. On the mismatched shelves were items that had not seen the light of day in years, mixed in with cheap imitations from Neighpon and the Philipponies. Only a true individual with a sincere need would be able to tell the difference, and when the cloaked pony pointed to the plastic object on the wall, Weigh Pon felt the glow of an exceptional commission fill his withered and almost unused heart.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s Eclipse, the legendary axe of Nightmare Moon, complete with the crack in the side from when she used it to break the stage and destroy the concert hall in Fillydelphia, just a week before she was banished. Would you be interested in me getting it down for a closer look?”

Azure magic wrapped around the shopkeeper’s neck, and Princess Luna smashed him backwards through three shelves before snarling, “No, worm! You will produce my beloved instrument now, not that piece of putrid trash adorning the walls of your very flammable shop!”

“Luna!” he squeaked. “Almost didn’t recognize you there in that cloak. We’ve got it in the vault! If I could just get you to put me down for a minute…”

Moments later, the Princess of the Night caressed the smooth obsidian of a Stratuscaster sixteen-string electric guitar, running her hooves over the nearly immaterial strings which responded to her touch with an acidic hiss. The iridescent surface of the instrument seemed almost translucent as if it had been formed from a piece of the night itself, with the glitter of little golden sparks deep within moving silently in little swirls as the princess turned it over and examined it.

“There is a nick.” One royal hoof pointed at a tiny notch in the stone neck that glinted in the store lighting. “But other than that minor issue, we believe our instrument has been well protected. Will there be a storage charge?”

Weigh Pon hesitated, weighing the probability of a profit against the rage of an angered goddess. “We do have expenses, Your Highness. After your long banishment, do you still have funds?”

Luna slung the instrument and ran her hoof up and down the fretboard, making a low howl of tortured souls fill the shop even without an amplifier. “We are half of the rulership of Equestria, and as such, control half of the funds in the government.”

“Wonderful,” beamed Weigh Pon. “We’ll take a check.”

♫ * ♫ * ♫

The bored earth pony at the desk popped her gum twice before looking up at the cloaked pony who had just entered the law office. “Welcome to Blandishment, Grogar, Paradox and Smooze, attorneys at law. How might I help you?”

“Inform Mister Grogar that his Princess of the Night hath arrived.” Luna threw back the hood of her cloak to let her star-strewn mane flow across the immaculate carpet while she looked down at the receptionist.

“I’m sorry, but Mister Grogar is currently unavailable. I can set you up with an appointment with Mister Paradox if you like.” She flipped through the appointment book and ran a hoof down the page. “How does two o’clock last Wednesday sound?”

Five minutes later…

“I’m so sorry, My Princess,” rumbled Grogar, Daemon Prince of Rams, Scourge of the Dark Secrets, and Junior Partner in the Law Firm, as he deftly poured Luna a cup of bubbling hot coffee, black, one lump of sugar, no arsenic. “Good help is so hard to find these days.” He glanced out the door where the fire department ponies were still putting out the cubicle and added, “Would you like a scone? The Missus makes them with just a pinch of brimstone, for flavoring.”

“I came here not for scones,” growled Luna, gulping down the coffee in one swallow and smashing the cup on the floor. “Nightmare shall return ere this next night, and all must be prepared! Art thou ready to resume thy rightful place?”

“Do you need me to go over the contract for the concert hall, My Princess?” Grogar sipped once from his cup and added a little more venom to cut down on the acidity of the coffee. “Those lawyers think they are so clever, slipping in little damage disclaimers like the one from Fillydelphia.”

“Remind me not of their foul betrayal,” snarled Luna, her eyes burning white-hot with rage. “The roof was scarcely scorched, and ‘twas their own fault for making the flooring out of such frail materials. They should have been scourged for their impertinence, not awarded damages. Yea, I do indeed command thee to examine our contract for such trifles, but what I seek from you is not your legal expertise, but something far more valuable.”

Grogar paused, one hoary hoof holding the coffee pot over his rapidly-dissolving cup. “You don’t mean…”

“Yea, foul beast. Unchain the passion within your heart and once again release the keys of thy infernal instrument, so that Nightmare might have its keyboard player when we go forth to shake the foundations of this city.”

“Yes!” bellowed the Daemon Ram of (untranslatable word meaning keyboard in Infernal), ripping the top off his desk and flinging it out the window. The monstrous contraption that he pulled out from the ruins of the desk was red with the rusty blood of uncounted enemies, staining the ragged blades and spikes that adorned every inch of surface not occupied by the yellowing keys which ran up and down the spine like ribs. His hooves danced over the keys, drawing the moaning of unclean spirits to raise to a screaming howl before dropping into a bass rumble that shook the building. With an embarrassed glance at Luna, he said, “Sorry. I’m a little rusty.”

“Thou hast time. We play the night after next. It’s reserved tonight.”

“What! I wish to unleash hellfire and destruction tonight! Why do we delay with our epic return concert? We should sweep this imposter from the stage and stain the walls with his blood. What is the name of the wretch that defies our destiny?”

“Justin Timberwolf.”

Grogar paused and brushed a few specks of dried blood off his keyboard. “Well. I suppose I could use one more night to practice.

♫ * ♫ * ♫

The Royal Statue Garden was a beautiful place of singing birds and fluttering butterflies flitting from bountiful bush to flowerbed, a little piece of tranquility in the huge Canterlot castle. It had been gifted with the most insightful statues in the country, imported flowers from far beyond the borders of ponydom, and gentle sculpted paths that wended from statue to statue in a manner designed to allow the observer the maximum time to absorb the beauty of the place.

Which is why elementary schools from all over Equestria sent hordes of unwashed fillies and colts with inadequate supervision to run rampant through the place every day, screaming at each other and sticking gum under the benches and statue plinths.

One statue in the garden was not the product of a talented sculptor, and that statue now had an observer who used a word many of the little fillies and colts would have been happy to repeat, to their parents dismay.

“Oh, well. Discord could never hold a beat anyway. Now where am I going to find another drummer on this short notice?”

“You had only to ask.” A tall dark mare slipped out from behind Discord’s statue and smiled at Luna, two pair of drumstick sticking through the holes in her legs. “I’ve always admired your work, Princess. I’ve got all of your albums, including the bootleg of the Messaponia concert where you created two new constellations with the fireworks. I’ll do anything you ask, including putting off my inevitable conquest of all of Equestria, if you’ll just let me be in your band. And, can I get your autograph?”

♫ * ♫ * ♫

It was rumored that Vinyl Scratch was stone cold deaf, and was only able to read lips. Anypony who spent any amount of time around her would probably agree, if they also did not recognize her expert skill at being able to tease the smallest of melodic lines out of a sample and turn it into something magical, even while standing directly in front of a speaker capable of liquefying bones. Today, she was testing out her newest sound system in the bunker-like building in back of her store, with three-foot thick concrete walls and orchidium-engraved enchantments keeping the sound to a mere rumbling for the neighbors, much like a neverending low-grade earthquake.

“We have come to purchase an amplification system.” The wall of solid sound coming out of the speakers had not been disrupted, but more like it had been totally ignored by the powerful voice of the alicorn standing by her shoulder. Vinyl grinned and flipped the enormous magical breaker which powered down the bright blue wall-sized speaker and left only a wisp of smoke floating behind as the powerful arc was cut off.

“Loony, baby! You’re looking good! I told you to take a few days off before you snapped under the pressure, and it seems you took my advice to heart. That coat is just glowing.” The white unicorn pushed her glasses up on her forehead, propping them up on two small reddish horns. “You still have a good eye for the wubs. This baby is able to crank up to a petawatt of pure magical power with a dynamic range from mosquito killing to earthquake.”

“Let me guess, Scratch,” said Luna dryly. “It goes to eleven.”

“Oh, that’s so neighties, Princess.” One white hoof rested on a knob marked in neat black lines from one, all the way up to a red-barred area with an infinity symbol, which she promptly rotated the knob all the way to, and then one notch beyond. “Listen to this, babe.”

* * *

The city of Canterlot is embedded into the granite core of the mountain range with slabs of unbreakable stone underlying every building and tower, which means it has a geological stability comparable to the proverbial immobile object. The wave of concussive energy that swept through the city cracked windows, made fountains spray wildly, and caused several newly-arrived pegasi to turn tail and return to Cloudsdale for a stable place to live. There was a great deal of discussion about the unscheduled earthquake, whether it was a taste of things to come, or a fluke occurrence, but one thing they all agreed on.

It made a sound like, “Wub!”

* * *

Princess Luna emerged from a pile of powdered concrete, topped lightly with a dusting of formerly enchanted metal. It took several tries at blowing her nose and a good shaking of her mane before she could address the grinning pony to her side, who seemed to have lost her glasses somewhere in the deamonstration.

“We like it. Does it come in black?”

♫ * ♫ * ♫

There was a reason Princess Luna had saved this trip for last. The sterile halls reflected her hoofsteps back in long echoes that died out in the distance, as much as anything could ever die in this place of the damned. She passed through another door with only the smallest shudder passing her flanks at the sound of scratching ahead. The noise grew, the quiet rat-like noise of doomed spirits, chained to their tasks until the time of their punishment was over and they would be released to their just reward. She pushed aside one last door, passing into a room with only a single living being inside, although that status was a point of contention.

“May I help you, Princess?” The bull-headed creature seated behind a plain oak desk rose to his hooves and gestured to a hard chair nearby, pausing to look at the rest of the inhabitants of the room, each seated behind an identical desk. Dozens of eyeless skeletal skulls regarded Tirek the Necromancer, Auditor for the Equestrian Department of Revenue, turned to look at Princess Luna, then returned to their work, dry quills scratching down their sheets of figures as they checked numbers and bits against tax returns. One skeleton remained looking for just a moment too long as Tireck’s dry voice snapped out, “Needlepoint, your sentence still has three years to go.” The cold gaze of the necromancer turned to the Princess of the Night as he continued, “Tax evaders. She thought selling some doilies and kerchiefs without filling out form ETI-17b would save her a few bits for retirement. Foolish mortal.”

“We shall not waste your valuable time. Nightmare shall rise again the night after next. Your services are needed.”

The bull leaned against his desk with a creaking of overstressed oak. “Have you filled out the correct governmental forms for the proper dispersion of the revenue generated from ticket sales, as well as albums, t-shirts, and other such items?”

“No.”

Tirek’s eyes narrowed to mere slits. “You expect me to complete all the paperwork and free my saxaphone from Tartarus in a mere thirty-six hours?”

“Yes.”

The desk gave little popping noises as seams began to split under the weight of Tirek’s bulk as he leaned forward even further. “Do I have to work with that capering chaotic idiot on the drums?”

“No. I hired a temp.”

“Good,” he snorted, sitting back in his chair and pulling a stack of papers out from the desk. “As long as it isn’t that fanfilly, Chrysalis.”

♫ * ♫ * ♫

“Fillies and Gentlecolts, welcome to the Canterlot Amphitheatre, home of the greatest concert in your lifetime!” The cloaked mare center stage faced the thousands of screaming ponies in the audience and waited for the noise to die down, only to have the volume double as the house lights illuminated the band behind her. A low drum roll began as Luna rose from the stage, hovering over the crowd as she took a breath and—

“Stop!” Spotlights stabbed down at where the crowd was parting around six young mares, striding through the crowd dressed in white silks and satin. Twilight Sparkle was the first to vault up onto the stage, a golden electric guitar across her back and a wireless microphone sticking out just to one side of her firm jaw, but the rest of the Elements of Harmony followed with their instruments. “Princess Luna, I challenge you to a Battle of the Bands!”

The crowd went wild, screaming, “Battle! Battle!” repeatedly until Luna slowly descended back to the stage and held one hoof up for silence.

“Foolish mortal. You dare challenge your Princess? By what right do you face me?”

Twilight did not say a word, but walked over to the amplifier and plugged in her golden guitar with a deep thrum that shook the stage. Raising the instrument in her magic, she posed her hooves over the strings and began to play with such speed and skill that Luna took a step backwards despite herself. Chords and notes flew, ramping up and down the scales and around so quickly as to be almost one long burst of pure music, bringing the crowd to their feet in a stomping and whistling frenzy that lasted several minutes after she came to a halt, panting for breath and dropping a smoking guitar pick on the stage.

“Not bad,” chuckled Princess Luna once the applause had died down. “For a child. But you face no mere mortal tonight, Student of the Sun. For I am Luna, Mistress of the Moon, and Goddess of the Guitar! Behold, the power of Eclipse!” She brandished the obsidian guitar in her magic, the translucent surface seeming to suck in all the light that touched it and bending more to its direction. Raising one hoof above the strings, she paused as another voice rang out through the colosseum.

“No!” A thunderbolt of light plunged down from the night sky, exploding in a burst of brilliance that blinded the concertgoers until, blinking furiously, they could see the shining form of Princess Celestia with a wing over her student, protecting her from Princess Luna.

“Well, well. If it isn’t my dear sister,” crooned Luna, lowering Eclipse to her side. “Have you come to try and purge me of my darkness yet again.”

“Nay, sister. The Elements of Harmony have proved useless against your inner nature, so I am left with but one option.” Light began to cascade off of the solar alicorn as a thread of pure brightness lanced into the sky from her horn.

Luna was the first to fall back, pulling out a set of sunglasses as she stared at her sister. “Y-you’re really going to do it?”

“No, Princess,” called Twilight, stumbling forward only to be pulled back by her friends. “You love the Neighties! Sunny and Mare! Stevie Neigh Vaughn! Elvis Przewalski!”

The light flared into incandescence, with a tiny speck of pure brilliance forming at the top of the column of light. “Remember me as I was, Twilight,” said Celestia, the light building to a blinding crescendo as the speck far in the sky began to descend, slowly at first, but gaining speed with every second.

“Take me with you!” screamed Twilight. “I’ll change! I’ll even… put a safety pin in my ear, provided it’s sterilized properly.”

The speck of light was descending faster and faster, building to a burst of radiance that exploded across the crowd as the speck landed—

—in Celestia’s hooves.

The blazing light faded but did not vanish, as the form of Celestia had changed dramatically. Silks of the purest white covered her torso, with the glitter of thousands of diamonds reflecting the burning white object she held in a gentle embrace, almost as if she were holding a small foal.

“Zenith,” gasped Twilight. “The Axe of Justice, lost forever when Nightmare Moon attacked.” Threads of absolute light connected tuning knobs to the body, making little rainbows dance through the awestruck crowd with even the smallest motion, while a glitter of pearls and sapphires traced across every knob and plate, even tinting the crystalline whammy bar with hints of pale blue and glitters of light.

Princess Celestia turned to her stunned sister with a smile. “Shall we?”

“Truely,” said Luna, taking a step forward and embracing her bigger sister. “It has been far too long since we ruled over our ponies, and tonight shall only seem like it lasts forever.”

“And tomorrow?” asked Celestia, tucking a bit of Luna’s mane back into its spiked hairbow.

“Tomorrow we plan our world tour, dear sister.” Turning to smile out at the crowd as the Elements of Harmony took their places in the band, Luna added, “Celly, if you would do the honors?”

“Nay, dear sister,” said Celestia, stepping up besides her sister and plugging in her guitar. “We were meant to rule together. Let us introduce this concert as we have done so many years ago. Only with less burning.” Stepping forward as sisters, Celestia and Luna each extended a hoof up into the sky and bellowed

CANTERLOT! ART THOU READY TO ROCK?!

Apple Bucking Twilight Time

The Cutie Mark Crusaders have created and lost the perfect apple bucking machine at the same time Cheerilee has discovered her special somepony.

You don’t think the two could be related, do you?

[Apples][And][Education]

EqD prompt: The Cutie Mark Crusaders have learned how to mix potions, fix things, and do magic! Show how they use their new skills to contribute to pony society!

Week 9 - Twilight time
-or-
Apple Bucking Twilight Time
(I would like to give special inspirational credit to Cheerilee’s Thousand by xjuggernaughtx)

“Miss Cheerilee! Wait up! Slow down! We need to talk with you!”

Cheerilee slowed her energetic gallop to a halt and tucked the covers over her saddlebags before the Cutie Mark Crusaders came zipping up in their pegasus-propelled scooter and wagon. She had been so close. If she had just been able to get around a corner, she might have been able to escape, but there was no way she could outrun Scootaloo’s devilish machine.

It only took a moment to slip on her Teacher’s Smile, an all purpose facial expression taught in the first year of college and used to armor the respective instructor against all manners of student-driven indignities. In Cheerilee’s case that armor’s thickness could be measured in yards and with a density of tempered steel.

“Hi, girls. I was just headed home, but I can talk with you for just a minute if it’s really important.”

Please say it’s not important. Please say it’s not important. Please say it’s not important.

“Thanks, Miss Cheerilee. It’s really, really, really important,” said Apple Bloom.

Buck.

Scootaloo shoved a complicated set of diagrams under Cheerilee’s nose and said, “We were working on our science project with Miss Twilight, and she suggested that we make something practical and useful, so we decided on making an apple picking robot to help out at Sweet Apple Acres. I made the structure and all of the parts from some really complicated blueprints I found in this old book.”

“How I Did It. Interesting title, but I don’t see—”

“And ah worked up the e-licks-er vi-tee from a recipe that I got from Zecora,” said Apple Bloom. “Twilight bought the ingredients and supervised my work. We only blew up her chemistry set twice before we got enough to run all the hydraulics and stuff that Scootaloo packed into the picker. Ah still think we may have made it too big.”

“It made the parts easier to work with,” said Scootaloo. “Besides, that’s what the book said to do.”

“And I used Starswirl’s Hippomorphic Transformation to give my creation life!” shouted Sweetie Belle as thunder rumbled in the background.

“Are you done with the thundercloud?” called Ditzy Doo from above, still holding her hooves over the ominous grey cloud floating above the wagon.

“Yep! Can you please take the cloud back over to the library so we can recharge our project when we find it, Miss Doo?”

Cheerilee watched the grey pegasus fly off with the cloud before turning back to the three eager little fillies. “So you’ve misplaced an apple-picking robot. That shouldn’t be very hard to find even in Ponyville. Why don’t you start where you last saw it, and work out from there. Now, I’ve got a nice gentlecolt caller waiting for me back at my house, so I’ll just leave you three to—”

“No!” the three of them chorused.

“There may have been some unexpected interactions between the mechanisms and Apple Bloom’s elixir,” said Scootaloo.

“Or Starswirl’s spell might possibly have interacted a teensy bit more with the library that we expected,” added Sweetie Belle.

“Yeah,” added Apple Bloom. “It was just supposed to soak up the information in the books we stacked around it on apple bucking and farming to charge it’s in-ate meta-thaumato-a-logical cer-ree-brum, but the whole library glowed.”

“I may have put too much power into the spell,” said Sweetie Belle, hanging her head in shame. “At least it didn’t burn up like my cooking.”

“Wait a minute,” said Cheerilee. “You made it alive?”

“Um. Maybe a little,” said Apple Bloom, digging the toe of one hoof into the grass.

“Do we lose any points for making another abomination of nature for our science project this year, Miss Cheerilee?” asked Scootaloo. “At least this year, our project didn’t try to eat anypony.”

“I still say we should have tried the custard recipe again this year,” complained Sweetie Belle. “I mean, there’s no way we could make an expanding polymorphic ooze that would threaten Equestria again. Last time was just a fluke.”

“Oh, come on! Our Manual Apple Removing Vehicle, Improving Nature robot was the greatest idea ever,” said Apple Bloom.

“You named your robot Marvin,” said Cheerilee with only the slightest twitch of her upper lip to display her sudden urge to beat her head against a nearby building. “Is he… I mean it, that is. Is it somewhat a light shade of chocolate brown with a dark blue mane and—” Cheerilee quickly cut off her description before giving a bit more personal information than the Cutie Mark Crusaders really needed to know about her love life.

“You found it? That’s great!” cheered Apple Bloom, exchanging a high hoof with the rest of her friends. “Where is it?”

Cheerilee double-checked her saddlebags to make sure the flaps were securely fastened, much as Marvin was securely fastened back at her home, only with a few more interesting knots. “I found him wandering around town and took him somewhere… secure.”

“Great!” said Scootaloo, putting her helmet back on and hopping back on her scooter. “Let’s go get it back to the library so Twilight can be the first to check it out.”

Too late. He’s been checked out more than once already.

“Wait a minute, girls. While I was examining Marvin—” far more closely than I’ll admit to you “—I noticed a couple of things.” One in particular. “He certainly seems really smart for a robot. Sweetie Belle, when you said Starswirl’s spell gave him all the knowledge that was in the library, does that include the section under the stairs, marked ‘Restricted: Adults Only’ with the locking bar across the books?”

“Yep! Twilight said that’s the first thing she checked.”

“And Scootaloo, Marvin seemed to be awfully strong.”

“Yeah, we wanted him to be able to buck apples all day long, so I put in the extra-durable hydraulic actuators on all of the parts, even the special one that Twilight had to order from that company in Las Pegasus.”

“Um. Yes.” Cheerilee swallowed and turned to smile at Apple Bloom. “And this ‘elixir vitae’ that you used for the hydraulics, did it have any… special properties?”

“Naa, just the usual stuff. Immortality, turning base metals into gold, stuff like that. Although once we got the robot all filled up and Sweetie cast the spell, its coat and mane all sparkled for a bit and turned really real. Twilight seemed really excited and said she could hardly wait to put Marvin through a series of extensive tests this evening.

That would be the single Princess Twilight Sparkle. I guess if you can’t find a talented special somepony, make a talented special somepony.

“Well, I can’t blame her,” said Cheerilee with a broad grin. “But your science project needs to be graded before I can turn it back over to her. Why don’t you run back and tell her I’ll bring… Marvin over this evening after I get done grading his performance. I mean grading your science project.”

“Are you sure, Miss Cheerilee?” asked Scootaloo. “I mean, we wanted to make sure this project was perfect. There still are a few minor little things we need to work on, and—”

“Don’t worry, girls. As far as I can tell so far, Marvin is going to get all three of you an A+.” And a gold star from the teacher for Marvin. “Now I need to get home before the ice cream melts and the strawberries get all gooey, so you three should go to the library and give Twilight my message, and I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Well, if you say so, Miss Cheerilee.” Apple Bloom perked up. “That means we have more Twilight Time this afternoon to find our Cutie Marks. Do you have any ideas for us, Miss Cheerilee? Miss Cheerilee? Where did she go?”

“Well, I hope she gets Marvin back over to the library before it runs out of power,” said Sweetie Belle. “I don’t think it soaked up as much lightning as it really needs to get a full charge.”

“You don’t think we’ll lose any points for that, do you?” asked Scootaloo.

* * *

It was nearly closing time at Barnyard Bargains, and Sparkler was watching the minute hand creep closer and closer to the magic moment. Keeping the store open this late at night was a dumb idea in Ponyville. Once the sun went down, the streets rolled up and all of the ponies went home. Absolutely nothing interesting happened after dark in this town, not even—

The little bell over the front door of the store went ‘ding’ in that frustrating cheerful fashion that nothing should exhibit after dark, and the town schoolteacher dragged herself through the doorway. Her mane was tangled and standing on end in places while a rather disturbing look was in her eye that stated quite clearly that she had a specific purpose in mind, and that any pony who got in her way was going to be flattened. Stepping up to the cash register, Cheerilee heaved a massive bag of bits onto the table and growled an order.

“Batteries. Give me every battery you have in the store.”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders and the Accidental Alicorn Incident

Week 10 - It Ain’t Easy Being Breezies
-or-
The Cutie Mark Crusaders and the Accidental Alicorn Incident

“I understand you wished to see us on an important matter, Fluttershy.” Princess Celestia nodded at the trembling pegasus and smiled her most reassuring royal smile, which admittedly may have been better received if Luna had not yawned in the middle of it.

“I’m sorry, Tia. It’s just so late in the day.” With a bob of her head and a matching smile, Luna acknowledged Fluttershy’s presence. “Although for the Element of Kindness, we would stay awake as long as thou wisheth. After all, it was thee who consoled me when my beloved Tibbles was having such digestive issues last week, and taught me just how to rub his little tummykins like this.” Luna reached around behind the royal thrones with her magic and brought out the sleeping opossum in question, gently rubbing him on the tummy until his leg began to twitch. “Isn’t he cuuuuuute?”

“Um. Yes. But I really didn’t come here to talk about Tiberius. Unless you really want me to, that is.”

“Don’t be nervous, Fluttershy,” said Celestia, bringing out the Royal Tea Service. “Come here and sit down, and we can have some tea while talking.”

Grasped in Celestia’s golden magic, the teapot poured out four small cups of tea, one of which was opossum-sized, before they sat down and all took a sip.

Fluttershy cleared her throat and began in a quiet voice. “It started back when we all helped the Breezies find their way back home after that nasty accident they had. Seabreeze was so thankful that he gave me a gift before we came back, a book that showed the history of the Breezies all the way back to when they first found the portal to Equestria.”

“Yes, my dearest Fluttershy. I remember that time well,” said Luna, taking a dainty sip of tea at the same time Tiberius began dunking biscuits into his. “They were so frightened of the big, dangerous world that they found, but they needed our pollen in order to survive, so with the help of our little ponies, they gathered their first batch and returned home.”

“And ever since,” said Celestia, gathering her own biscuits before the last ones could be grabbed by Tiberius, “the Breezies have returned every few years to gather pollen from special locations across Equestria, helping our lands and theirs by pollinating some of our most difficult flowers and herbs.”

“No, not that visit,” said Fluttershy, pulling out a book that barely took up half of her hoof. “There was a visit before when two young Breezie sisters by the name of Sunbeam and Selene found the unstable portal and escaped through it after stealing the Breezie’s most precious possession: The Orb of Sun and Moon.”

“Interesting,” said Celestia, her teaspoon pausing in the act of adding an extra dollop of honey to her cup of tea.

“A fable, perhaps?” asked Luna, a half-eaten sugar cookie hovering by her side.

“In the book, it says the Breezies used the orb to control their own sun and moon. Fortunately they had a few spares, or their world would have been destroyed.” Fluttershy looked up from her cookie and peered through her pink mane at the Princess of the Sun, who had seemingly taken a great interest in the ceiling. “Do you remember any Breezie coming through the portal back then, Princess Celestia?”

“No,” said Princess Luna so quickly that it sounded like a chirp. “None at all. No Orb of the Sun, Moon and Stars here. Well, look at the time. I’m sorry you have to be going so soon, but we have a castle to run.”

“Why don’t you just leave that book with us, Fluttershy?” asked Celestia, floating the tiny book off Fluttershy’s hoof and over in front of her royal personage. “I can make a copy of it for Twilight and you both can review it at your leisure.”

“If you read the cover first, Princess.”

There was a note of command in the voice of the shy pegasus, and Celestia floated the book up to her eye and read out loud, “Do You Like Bananas, by Ewe Been Haad.”

“It’s written in Breezie,” said Fluttershy, lifting her wing and producing another small book. “Twilight already made a few dozen copies of the real one.”

“We can explain,” started Celestia.

“Yes, please do,” snapped Luna, raising her wings and scowling at her sister. “We are most upset at thy attempts to deceive the young Fluttershy with thy lies!” The Princess of the Moon remained in her aggressive pose, looking at Celestia’s peeved glare before whispering, “She’s looking at me, isn’t she?”

“Yes, Luna.”

“Oh.” Luna turned and sat back down, taking a sip of tea with an uncouth slurp before adding, “She made me do it.”

“I did not, Luna! You were the one who wanted to steal the orb.”

“Well, as the older sister, you were supposed to restrain my criminal urges. And look at where that got us. Besides, they had spares.”

Celestia took a deep breath and turned to Fluttershy. “You must understand. When we first arrived in Equestria, the three pony tribes were just coming out of conflict, and the Wendigo’s could have returned at any time. They needed a strong leader.”

“Leaders,” added Luna, grabbing the last biscuit off the plate.

“Leaders,” said Celestia. “We did what needed to be done, and for nearly four thousand years, we’ve guided our little ponies through countless troubles and crises.”

“Including a thousand year gap from my error, do not forget that, my sister.” Luna leaned into Celestia with a warm nuzzle, a single cookie wandering from the Sun plate to the Moon plate behind her.

“So, dear Fluttershy, don’t you think we’ve served enough restitution for our previous crimes?” said Celestia with her soft tranquil smile that had vanquished centuries of diplomats.

“Certainly we can just put all of this behind us,” said Luna, nibbling her last cookie and looking at where Tiberius was building a little biscuit fort.

From out in the corridor, came a loud and growing noise, as if tiny hooves were dashing down the hallway as fast as they could run. The noise swelled as it grew closer, until the door flung open and the source was revealed.

“We found it, Fluttershy!” shouted Scootaloo as she skidded into the room and came to an abrupt stop. “Oh. Hi, Miss Celestia and Luna.”

“It was in her sock drawer,” called out Apple Bloom, galloping into the room only to run into Scootaloo and tumble into a pile.

“Your sock drawer, sister?” Luna cast a rather critical look at Celestia, who blushed in response.

“No pony ever gets into my socks, dear sister,” replied Celestia. “But we must concentrate on the most important subject for now. The Orb of the Sun and Moon is a very powerful artifact. It must not be allowed to fall into the wrong—”

“Don’t run so fast,” shouted Sweetie Belle as she ran into the room with a milky orb held in her mouth, only to trip over her two friends and send the object flying.

“Ooof!” went Sweetie Belle.

“No!” shouted Luna and Celestia.

“Eeep!” went Fluttershy.

“*Poomf*” went the orb.

~~*~~

Morning dawned across Equestria as the sun rose slowly into the sky, perhaps with a few more wobbles than usual, but it still rose up, which was doing pretty good for her first time. Celestia regarded the blazing orb with an evaluating eye before giving a sharp nod of satisfaction.

“Very good, Princess Fluttershy,” she squeaked, running one hoof through her snow-white antenna and fluttering down to the balcony guardrail on her insectile wings. “Maybe a few wobbles, but a fine job for your first attempt, and I’m certain you will only get better with practice.”

“She had better,” grumbled Luna in a voice more suitable for chirps than rumbles as she crawled out from Fluttershy’s mane and gave a stretch of her own insectile wings. “My poor moon last night. How long did you say it would take for the orb to recharge, my dear and totally imbecilic sister?”

“A year and a day,” said Celestia. “And all of your whining will not speed it up an hour, little sister. We are just going to be stuck in our natural Breezie forms until then.” The Former Princess of the Sun extended her glittering wings and fluttered them a few times for practice. “Now Fluttershy, if you would please escort my sister off to bed, we can go down to Morning Court and introduce all of the nobles to my new look. Certainly it will go better than Night Court.”

“They laughed at me, Tia,” grumbled Luna, flattening herself out on Fluttershy’s head next to her horn and rolling herself up in a length of pink mane.

“And they shall certainly laugh at me too, dearest sister.” Celestia fluttered across the distance between the balcony rail and Equestria’s newest princess, landing on Fluttershy’s head and rubbing her antenna up against her sister. “But we must be strong. It is only for a year, and then we may resume our rightful appearance.”

“Can’t catch me!” An orange blur zipped past the balcony, followed by a white and yellow blur in hot pursuit. “Slow down, Scootaloo! We aint’ supposed to be zoomin’ all over the castle ‘til Rainbow Dash gives us all flying lessons!”

Celestia looked out over the city where three very small alicorns were playing tag among the castle towers and gave an impressive sigh for her current small size.

“That is, provided there’s anything left of Equestria in a year.”

Introducing the Wonderbolts! And Some Red Pony On A Flying Machine

Week 11 - Somepony to Watch Over Me -or- Introducing the Wonderbolts! And Some Red Pony On A Flying Machine

Applejack and Apple Bloom may have a difficulties delivering their pies, but Big Mac has even more devious obstacles between him and his final destination.

The city of Cloudsdale.

EqD prompt: Big Macintosh wishes chimeras were the only things he had to contend with on his delivery route. What he goes up against is far, far worse...

[Hot][Apple][Pies!]

Week 11 - Somepony to Watch Over Me
-or-
Introducing the Wonderbolts! And Some Red Pony On A Flying Machine

“Okay, Big Mac. You sure you got all the stuff you need for your route? You got the pacifier, right?”

“Eeyup.”

“Wonderbolts flier?”

“Eeyup.”

“Sweetie Belle’s cooking loaded in the trailer?”

“Eeyup.”

“Apple Bloom filled the oxidizer and the fuel tanks?”

“Eeyup.”

“Drank your cloud walking potion?”

“Eeyup.”

“Well, looks like you’re all set. See you back at the farm this evening.”

One loose strap was carefully hitched up over a shoulder before Big Mac began trotting down the road to Ponyville. The weekly delivery was getting to be routine, and despite the difficulties involved, he was beginning to like it. There had been no end of problems getting the pie wagon properly outfitted, but Apple Bloom had pitched in with her little friends and the results had been all he had hoped for and more. His casual trot turned into slow walk as a familiar blue streak in the sky transformed into the fastest pegasus in Equestria.

“Hiya, Big Mac. Headed out on your delivery again this week?” Rainbow Dash floated down in front of Mac’s path, making the big earth pony slow to a stop to avoid running into her.

“Eeyup.”

The pegasus moved closer until her muzzle was just inches in front of Big Mac’s nose. “And did you have any other delivery you’d like to make today?”

The breeze from Rainbow’s wings did little to evaporate the trickle of sweat that began to seep down Big Mac’s face, as he reached behind him with one rear hoof, reaching for a particular switch on the wagon. “Eenope. Just pies.”

“You know,” said Rainbow Dash, circling around the big red earth pony while flicking him with her tail and her wingtips, “I’ve always liked your dedication to the perfect pie, but you’ve been working awfully hard lately. Maybe you ought to take a break for a while. Find someplace to lie down. We could even talk about—” Rainbow Dash put her lips to Big Mac’s ear and whispered “—pie.”

“Oh, look,” rasped Big Mac, trying not to move his head as a small piece of paper blew by. “Is that a Wonderbolts ticket?”

“Where?!” Rainbow Dash darted up into the air with a rapid flap, and dashed off in pursuit of the colorful scrap of paper, which fluttered and darted in the wind created by her wings as she chased. After a few minutes of hot pursuit and an eventual ambush, Rainbow flattened the piece of paper against the ground and scowled.

“It’s just a flier! Big Mac, I thought you said — Big Mac? Where’d he go?”

* * *

“Thanks again, Pinkie,” rumbled Big Mac as he pulled various levers and twisted several props in place to convert his pie wagon into something more appropriate for a trip to his destination. Stubby wings now stuck out of both sides, as well as a small stabilization balloon on the top that read ‘Genuine Sweet Apple Acres’ in large letters. The wagon’s heavy wheels had been removed, replaced with spring-loaded skids that had been enchanted with the same cloudwalking runes as the buildings of Cloudsdale. With a satisfied grunt, Big Mac connected the trailer hitch to the back of Pinkie’s cloudcopter and made sure the bolt was securely fastened.

“You got that bolts screwed in tight?” asked Pinkie, carefully fussing over her precious flying machine with a soft cloth and some turtle wax (borrowed from Rainbow Dash for obvious reasons). “Because you know it’s always better to be screwed in tight than to be loose, although sometimes it’s kind of fun to be loose, but not for machines, because they need to be tight and lubed up really well with lots of grease, and tighter and lubed is always better, isn’t it, Big Mac?”

“Eeyup.” Big Mac paused with the sensation of something ominous and pink looming above him, breathing lightly into his mane. “Hey, Pinkie. What’s that?”

“Oh, no!” Pinkie Pie pounced on the pink pacifier laying on the grass and held it up to the light. “PC, that must be Pound Cake’s pacifier. Or Pumpkin Cake. They must have lost it when they were outside playing. Hold on, Big Mac. Pinkie will be right back, and I’ll even bring strawberries!” With a zip, Pinkie vanished into Sugar Cube Corner, only to emerge a few minutes later, calling out, “False alarm. They both already have pacifiers. I wonder who’s this is? Big Mac? Where did you go?”

* * *

With the Ponyville valley far behind, Big Mac leaned into the pedals of Pinkie’s flying machine and enjoyed the wind blowing through his mane. All of the mechanical parts of the flier and the trailer were working perfectly, properly tightened up and greased like the proverbial well-oiled machine, but he was not at the delivery point yet. The real danger lay ahead.

“Hey, Dweeb!” A griffon swept down out of the sky and shied off once she got close. “Hey, you’re not Pinkie Pie!”

“Eeynope,” said Big Mac, putting on a little more speed.

Gilda the griffon responded by lazily making a few laps around his flying machine and the trailing cart, leisurely looking them, and him, over from all angles before sliding up beside Big Mac with a sideways glance. “You know, we griffons appreciate a little pie too, just like ponies.”

“Eeyep,” said Big Mac, putting a little more effort into his peddling.

“I could use some… apple in my life about now,” she purred, swishing her feline tail behind her as she flew. “You wouldn’t know where I could get some… pie, would you?”

“Eenope.” Big Mac angled the flying machine slightly to one side and reached for a number of pull strings with his lips, identifying them by flavor.

Watermelon. Nope. Cherry. Nope. Zucchini. Yep.

“How about we put this contraption down somewhere and we — Mumgph!” The spring-loaded arm from the trailer caught Gilda right in the beak, delivering its tasty payload right into her mouth. The griffon lost altitude, chewing away as she flapped, finally swallowing and calling up, “That’s a pretty good apple muffin, you big lug, but I was looking for something a little more like—.”

“Zucchini?” called down Big Mac, lifting the nose of the flying machine and pointing towards Cloudsdale in the distance.

“Oh, yeah. I could go for some — hey! I’m losing altitude. Come back here! You haven’t heard the last of…”

Big Mac grinned as he peddled. Sweetie Belle’s Apple-Zucchini muffins had a density just this side of lead and would sit in the stomach like an anchor for most of a day, leaving Big Mac right on schedule for his delivery today.

* * *

Cloudsdale Arena spread out below him in a wide arc, filled with cheering pegasi. He could just barely make out the tiny red dot of the concession stand, and his target. There was just one thing left before the delivery could be complete.

“Hi there, Big Mac.” Soarin tucked in alongside of the flying machine, looking back at the pie-filled trailer it pulled. “You want us to pull that for a while?”

“Looks like he’s in a little distress, Soarin.” A second Wonderbolt tucked in on the other side of the flying machine with a matching grin. “Looks like we may have to catch him.”

“Sounds good, Fleetfoot,” called out Soarin with a licking of his lips. “You catch the driver and I’ll catch the pies.”

Lemon. Nope. Orange. Nope. Apple. Yeah.

“Good luck with that,” shouted Big Mac with a string in his teeth. “I hope you like your pies baked.” With a tug of the string, the rocket boosters in the back of the wagon ignited, and the flying machine rocketed forward with Big Mac peddling for all he was worth to keep in control. The arena grew rapidly ahead of him, but the sound of pursuit was growing closer, and a series of cloud rings was coming up fast. Off in the distance he could hear the announcer shouting into the public address system.

Fillies and Gentlecolts, approaching the Rings of Flaming Death from the south is the fabulous flying duo of Soarin and Fleetfoot… And some red pony on a flying machine. Oh, no! It looks like somepony is going to get burned, because there goes the ignitors!

With a sudden blast of flame while he passed through the first cloud ring, they erupted into fire with tongues of red and orange singing the bottom of the flier as he wrenched the machine to the left, then to the right. Corkscrewing through a complicated set of burning rings, he could see Soarin and Fleetfoot tucked right in to either side of the wagon, the smoke trails from their costumes combining with the rocket contrail of the wagon to make a crackling noise that could not block the Ooo’s and Ah’s from the surrounding crowd. Wrenching the flying machine inverted as he passed the last burning cloud ring, he continued the roll, bursting through a paper Wonderbolts banner as the hard-packed surface of the food court became far too close.

Kumquat. Nope. Guava. Nope. Apples. YES!

With a yank of the string, the hammering thrust of the rockets cut off abruptly and a drogue parachute exploded out the back of the wagon. He shoved the nose of the flying machine down and to the right, skidding sideways across the surface with the wagon tilting to one side, spraying little clods of compacted cloud in all directions until coming to a rest right next to the concession stand. The parachute settled slowly to the ground, flanked by both Wonderbolts as they raised their forelegs high to the cheering crowd and took a bow. Big Mac stepped out of the flying machine to the top of the collapsed parachute, rearranging it a little to make sure the Sweet Apple Acres logo was properly displayed before the announcer’s voice cut through the cheering.

Let’s hear it for the Wonderbolts, and our special guest, Big Macintosh from Sweet Apple Acres! As a reminder, Sweet Apple Acres is just one of the hosts of this afternoon’s program, and you can find their apple pies and other goodies at our refreshment stand during the break. We’ll be right back with the second half of our show in just fifteen minutes.

* * *

Big Mac sat back against the empty wagon with a tall, cold cider and watched the concession stand with a smile. The sound of bits clinking was a constant rattle, and it looked like the inventory was going to sell down to the pie tins yet again. He only twitched a little in his relaxed state as a sweaty Wonderbolt slipped up under one foreleg and helped herself to a substantial drink from his cider.

“Hey there, hot stuff. How did you like the little addition we did this week?” Fleetfoot batted her eyelashes and took another drink of cider, licking her lips afterwards.

“Pretty hot,” said Big Mac, reclaiming his mug and taking a drink. “Not half as hot as you, though. Who thought of setting the clouds on fire?”

“Spitfire said it would be a real crowd-pleaser, and it certainly seemed to drive them wild.” Reclaiming the cider, Fleetfoot drained it to the bottom and licked the rim. “Speaking of driving somepony wild, how about we sneak off and get me out of this sweaty uniform? You know I can’t get enough of you just once a week.”

Big Mac sat the empty mug down and wrapped a foreleg around his marefriend instead. “Thought you had half the show left?”

“I was only in the first half. My part’s over.” She leaned up and pressed her lips against Big Mac in a scorching hot kiss that tasted like apples. “I think you deserve a little reward for your performance.” She kissed him again, only longer.

“Don’t think it’s over,” said Big Mac with a smile. “Think it’s just starting.”

That brought a smile to the athletic Wonderbolt as she slipped her wings around his back. “Oh, if you think this week was fun, just wait until I tell you what we’ve got set up for next week.

Racing Through Tines and Plates With Ferd and Feg Hoot

Week 12 - Maud Pie -or- Racing Through Tines and Plates With Ferd and Feg Hoot

Feghoot: (a) A story pun (also known as a poetic story joke or Feghoot) is a humorous short story or vignette ending in an atrocious pun (typically a play on a well-known phrase) where the story contains sufficient context to recognize the punning humor.

(b) One of two brothers who compete against Maude Pie and her pet in the West Minister Pet Show Kitchen Obstacle Race.

EqD prompt: While it was nice to meet Pinkie and her friends, Maud Pie must now return to her regular life. She never did let Pinkie know about her other side...

[Flicka][vs.][Mai-Tai]

12 - Maud Pie

-or-
Racing Through Tines and Plates With Ferd and Feg Hoot

I was enjoying a perfectly marvelous day at the Canterlot Coliseum, watching the Wonderbolts as they finished up their morning show when I became aware of a perfectly white hoof waving to me out of the crowd. When I approached, I was positively delighted to see Princess Celestia and her protege, the young alicorn Princess Twilight Sparkle, and they both gestured me closer.

“Doctor, how good to see you here today.” Princess Celestia said with one of her characteristic smiles, gesturing to the bench by their side. “Please, come sit with us during the intermission. Twilight Sparkle, I would like to introduce you to a dear friend of mine. This is the Doctor.”

“Who?” said Twilight.

“Hooves, actually,” I said with my most polite bow for the two princesses. “It prevents confusion.”

“The Doctor is a temporal mechanic, Twilight. He’s been all over Equestria and always has the most amusing stories.”

“Really?” Twilight fairly lit up with curiosity and turned to face me with a happy smile of her own. “I just love temporal mechanics. It was one of my favorite topics in school. But don’t you mean he’s a specialist in temporal mechanics? Saying he is a temporal mechanic implies that he fixes broken parts of the time-space continuum.”

“What a silly idea, Twilight.” Both Celestia and I enjoyed a laugh while Twilight blushed.

I took the opportunity to brush off my jacket and smile along with the princesses. My most recent experience was certainly worth repeating, as Celestia always seemed to enjoy my anecdotes, and even knew how they ended before I could complete them. “What Her Highness actually means is that I fix clocks and other timepieces, and also act as timekeeper for various events in some of the most interesting parts of the country and beyond. Why, just last week I was present at a most fascinating race.”

“Do tell us, Doctor,” said Celestia with a nod and a twinkle in her eye. “I’m certain both of us will find it well worth our time.”

“As you wish, Your Highness,” I responded, settling down on the bench and accepting a glass of chilled lemonade. Taking a deep drink, I raised my eyebrow in appreciation of the additional flavoring that had been added, which was most certainly not lemon-based. An additional drink finished wetting my dry throat sufficiently for conversation, and I began my story.

“As you know, every year in the town of West Minister, pet owners from across Equestria gather for their traditional Pet Show. It is a truly huge affair with animals of all types, some of which have only been heard of in legend. Even the pet owners are diverse, representing every race in Equestria, which can cause some minor friction when some of the pet owners are confused for some of the pets, but I digress.

“Every year, there are more classes for display, obedience and such, but the most fascinating class this year was the racing pets.”

“Racing pets?” asked Twilight.

“Oh yes,” I replied. “There are even subcategories for crawling, hopping, running, flying, and a new event called the kitchen obstacle course. What caught my attention this year were a number of pets owned by the sister to your friend, Pinkie Pie. It seems there is a native species of fly in Maud’s home of Flintrock Valley that is entirely siliconious. It has glittering mica wings and a beautiful body of multicolored dense metamorphic rock and pure onyx eyes. She displayed several of them in the other classes and won hooves-down, but she was relatively reluctant to enter her prize fly Flicker into the obstacle race until I encouraged her. I have to admit, that fly was really quite striking, and a large number of wagers were quickly struck once she finally acceded to my pleas. It really only faced one competitor of any challenge at all, another favorite at the show, a skunk-owl named Mai-Tai owned by the Hoot brothers, Fern and Feg.”

“They sound familiar,” said Twilight. “Did they have apples for cutie marks?”

“Oh no, dear princess. You’re thinking of the Flim Flam brothers. These brothers run a clothing company in Haywaii where they produce colorful shirts for visiting tourists. Anyway, I was present at the final race, where your friend Maud and the Hoot brothers were competing, and the betting was absolutely furious. Maud’s fly had performed so brilliantly in the preliminary time trials that the rest of the pet owners withdrew, leaving only the Hoot brother’s skunk-owl as competition. I suspected they were cooking up some underhoofed plot, so I kept my eye on them right up until race time.

“Well, when the time of the race finally arrived, Maud had her rock-fly polished to gleaming perfection, while the Hoot brothers had apparently rolled their owl in something horrid and disgusting. All of the ponies at the starting line could hardly breathe from the stench, but we consulted the rules, and there was nothing that said a competitor had to smell attractive to fly the obstacle course.

“Once they signaled the race to begin, the Hoot brothers’ strategy became obvious. The rock-fly could hardly breathe, and quickly fell behind the skunk-owl as they came up to the first obstacle: the Fork Maze. Still, it kept right in there as Maud and the rest of the audience cheered for it, buzzing its mica wings just as fast as it could go, even though it was falling further behind every minute. As they approached the Swinging Plates, the fly misjudged the speed of one of the plates and was knocked sideways into a nearby mud puddle.

“Well, the Hoot brothers and their owl thought that was just hilarious, and the owl slowed its pace to a leisurely flapping as it flew through the Place Setting section of the course, but it really should have looked behind its tail. That fly came up out of the mud puddle all dripping with muck, and just tore out after the owl faster than I’ve ever seen anything fly in my life. Even though the owl had such an enormous lead, by the time they passed through the Toaster Tangle and reached the finish line, the winner was a true photo-finish. I, of course, knew what the outcome would be even before they consulted the camera. It was obvious.”

Twilight perked up. “So does this mean Maud Pie’s muddy fly tied with the tie-dyed guys’ foul owl Mai-Tai?”

“Dont’ be ridiculous, Twilight,” said Princess Celestia. “Everypony knows that Gneiss Flies finish last.”

Author's Note

I regret nothing! (but I will include a definition to improve your vocabulary)

gneiss (nīs)
noun
1. a metamorphic rock with a banded or foliated structure, typically coarse-grained and consisting mainly of feldspar, quartz, and mica.

Luna's Children of the Night

Week 13 - Sweetie Belle -or- Luna’s Children of the Night

After a thousand years, Princess Luna returns to the Dreamscape to once again make the night safe for her little ponies, but her world will be shaken to the very core by what she finds there.

Her children.

EqD prompt: Guiding the dreams of the realm is no easy task. Few realize, however, that Princess Luna has friends who help her do just that.

This story is inspired by the fabulous animation First Nightmare’s Night, and the FimFiction story Children of the Night by Dark0592, although it diverges rather sharply from his fanfic, and is probably closer to my Nocturne Saga.

12 - For Whom The Sweetie Belle Tolls

-or-
Luna’s Children of the Night

I can tell by her expression that my sister would rather chew off her own leg than to let me go. It is that same damnable countenance of cool compassion she wraps around her like a blanket whenever she is uncomfortable with a situation, a tranquil bliss of peace and harmony that her, that is our little ponies flock to like candy to foals. I have tried the expression myself, heavens and stars know I’ve tried, but our subjects only glance at me out of the corner of my eyes when I try, and edge as quickly out of the room as possible afterwards. She is their mother, their grandmother infinite times removed, while I am the cruel and pitiless night which conceals the monsters within. They do not love me, but they respect my power and bend the knee to me as quickly or even quicker than her when we approach. I can hear their whispers in the corridors as I pass, fearful for their lives and homes as they serve the one who was Nightmare Moon, and who might become so again. Still, they serve, despite their fear, not because of it. I was such a fool to think that giving myself to insanity would yield to me the love I so desired from them, but I am not so much a fool as to tread the same idiotic path again.

Nightmare Moon is dead. Princess Luna lives.

Before our time, the Night was a terrifying place, and our ponies could not even escape their fears in blessed slumber. While my sister forged the three pony tribes into one nation to drive the monsters away, I purged the Dreaming of creatures who fled her terrible vengeance. They can never be destroyed, but they could be driven back as long as we were united in our efforts. I have waited for far too long to return to the Dreaming, held back by infantile fears of my weakness and the constant assault of doubt. No longer shall I hesitate.

The Dreaming waits for me. I shall not fail.

I reach for the regalia of my sacred task gently, out of some forlorn hope that the intervening years would reduce it to dust at my touch. Alas, it remains just as soft and plush as the day it was created for me, patched in small and loving spots by a generous pony who took it upon herself to travel all the way to Canterlot for the humble task of mending a sleeping mask. Embroidered upon it in exquisitely precise stitches is the motto of the Dreamwalkers, Quis custodiet somniator. The broken threads and tattered corners of my ancient symbols of office have been refreshed with soft new material, and as much as I wish to complain about other hooves having touched my most precious possessions, I can not. The stuffed bear held under one cannon nestles tightly to my side as the gentle glide of cotton from my pajamas touches the sheets, my sister tucking me underneath the covers as she had done so many times before. I want to protest that I am a big princess now, and no longer need my big sister to tuck me in, but the words will not come.

I am Princess Luna. I am the Guardian of Dreams. I have a responsibility.

Even though the sleep mask is over my eyes, I can still hear the gentle clunk of a glass of water being placed on my bedside table, not full, as to spill when moved, but only filled halfway with a tissue draped over the top to keep out any curious moths. My heart wishes so much for her to sing to me before she leaves, but I cannot ask. She has not sung those words to me since centuries before I rebelled against her, not since I was very young and just learning to tread the starry expanse of the Dreamscape. I can hear her hoofsteps as she turns to leave, but she pauses, taking a moment to adjust the thick curtains on my bedroom and make a few tiny adjustments to my covers. Then the voice I have been wishing to hear for a thousand years gently raises itself in welcome song.

♫ Hush now, quiet now, it’s time to lay your sleepy head
Hush now, quiet now, it’s time to go to bed
Drifting off to sleep, exciting day behind you
Drifting off to sleep, let the joy of dream land find you ♫

I shiver in anticipation as the Dreamscape enfolds me in its warm embrace, much like stepping back into a comfortable pair of slippers that had been lost under the bed for years. I must not lower my guard. The Dreamscape has been without guidance for far too many years, and the malevolent creatures who roam the Sea of Dreams will have run wild, spreading darkness across the minds of uncounted children. Braced as I am for the destruction and chaos of unleashed fears as I enter the realm, I am shocked beyond words as it opens up in front of me like a curtain parting upon a play.

It is beautiful. The sparkling paths which the dreamers tread are pristine lines of beauty through the darkness, lit by my beautiful moon and the stars in glorious array above. I can see the dreamers, each in their own portion of this ethereal realm as they laugh and play without a single shriek of fear or agony. The only other sound I can hear is a light giggling, as if some playful foals were hiding behind clumps of dreamstuff in my vicinity, but when I approach, the young ponies tumble out in a chaotic pile at my hooves.

“Good evening, Princess Luna,” they chorus, spread out in a small group of a dozen or so little foals, their bright, shining eyes looking at me with overwhelming joy. At first, I do not recognize them. There have been so many ponies who I have met over my centuries, but at last their names become obvious in a crush of sorrow. Wind Whisper. Spirit. Magpie. Gari.

Their faces blur before me with my tears, and I can not bear to look at them any more. It is my worst nightmare brought to life, and I spread my wings to leap into the air and leave them all behind, to flee the Dreamscape forever as I feared I might need—

They all leap at once onto me before my wings can even extend to their full reach, clutching onto every limb and my neck, their faces wet with sudden tears of their own. I cannot bear to strike them and make my escape. When I first raised my banner of revolt against my sister, these were the first children I took with me into exile at the Winter Castle. Abandoned by their elders in orphanages and on the streets of Canterlot, I was going to create a new world for them where they would be loved and cared for.

Instead, I killed them, as I killed all who followed me in my insane quest for adoration as Nightmare Moon.

I fall to the ground in the Dreamscape, waiting for the restless shades of my past to tear me apart as I deserve. Celestia was right. I was not ready to face my own fears, so why did I think I could help others face theirs? The pain does not come, but instead, a warmth begins to spread as the ghosts of the little ponies hold me tight in their damp embrace.

“Don’t leave us, Princess.” Little Gari’s words fairly squeaked out in a panic. The little unicorn was always the one who was the most outspoken, overcoming her fear and challenging the world horn-first. When the Nightmare transformed our followers, she bounded around in the lead of the rest of the young ones, eager to show how her new powers could help me build our new city. Instead, I drew those powers away when I fought Celestia, slaying their innocent lives in a futile effort to save my own worthless hide.

“Away, foul spirits,” I manage to gasp. “Torture me not with my deeds, for I shall ever be in anguish over them far greater than the worst pain you could inflict.”

“We know.” One at a time, the little ponies release their tight grasp upon my body, remaining gathered around me as if they fear I will vanish like a popped bubble. I regain my hooves, but continue to watch them as they watch me in return. The faces I remember before their transformation were much less worn with care and age, with tiny indications of their activities in the centuries I was gone. Here a missing tooth, there a tip stubbed off an ear from wrestling with the fractious residents of the Dreamscape, but the joyful grins of their foalhood ever so slowly return under my anxious gaze. Seeming so real, little Gari looks up and clears her throat, clearly the most worried of the little ones.

“When the rest of your followers were destroyed by Nightmare Moon, their spirits willingly departed the world for Elysium Fields, where they could forever be with their loved ones. Only we twelve remained, for the only pony to ever show us love had been banished to the moon. We were so angry that we determined to haunt your sister’s dreams in vengeance for what she had done.

“It took weeks before she slept, and in that time, the dark creatures of the Dreaming gathered. Without you to keep them under control, they hungered for your sister’s time of vulnerability, when they would finally be able to break free and unleash their madness upon all of the dreamers who dared enter what they believed to be their exclusive domain. We gathered with them, but when she finally slept, we saw it was your loss that tortured her mind more than anything else. Her pain was our pain, and our anger turned to compassion as we thought of you. The twelve of us united to chase away the dark creatures rather than have one more pony suffer through their tortures.

“Over the years, we ranged out into the Dreaming in your name, first to keep the nightmares away from your few followers who escaped death on that terrible night, then their families, and after a long time, we found our place in keeping the Dreaming as you would, protecting all who venture into the land.

“When you returned…” Gari bows her head, as do the rest of the foals. “We saw the doubts that plagued your dreams, but did nothing. Can you forgive us, Princess?”

It takes more effort than I have ever expended to remain standing instead of sweeping them all up in my embrace and covering them with kisses. “Thou asks if thy transgressions can be forgiven? The Domain of Dreams hast been guarded by thy presence since my descent into insanity, and kept with such care that it exceeds my best efforts, and thou begs my forgiveness? Nay, children. ‘Tis I who should beg at thy hooves for forgiveness. I foolishly sought love from the rest of Equestria, blind to what I had within my grasp. I struck you down in my insanity, and you have returned blessings beyond measure for my heinous crimes.”

“All is not perfect in the Dreaming,” says Gari, still with head downcast. “There are still those whom we cannot reach, and dark beings who still stalk the far reaches.”

I reach down and lift her chin up so that I may look into her glimmering eyes, still damp with ghostly tears. “The darkness will always be there, my child, as will those who will not see. It is time to rest now, my children. Thou hast stayed far too long from thy journey’s end and thy proper reward. I shall guard the dreamers now, as thou hast in my absence, while you continue on to Elysium Fields.”

They do not move, but remain huddled around me without a single sound. Finally, Gari looks up, her voice a bare whisper. “No.”

The others look up also, their eyes all fixed on me with a sincerity of determination that I have never seen before. They speak of their love for me that has carried them through the ages, and their love for the ones who they shepherd through the night. They tell me tales and stories about the young and the old, small ones who fear the shadows that move in their bedrooms and the old ones who can sense their upcoming departure from the world as well as all kinds between. They speak of of griffons and minotaurs, of the surreal dreams of seaponies and flutterponies and breezies until the air seems filled with their desires.

And they speak of their love for me.

They take me through the Dreaming to the places that seem foreign to me now, where ponies once huddled in the darkness and prayed for the rising sun, or bent under the lash of dominion, begging for an end to their pain. Now the dark places are filled with moonlight as little fillies and colts chase fireflies while the dark creatures lurk far away, unwilling to expose their ugliness to my sparkling night.

When they are done, they return with me to the place of my entrance, covering me with damp kisses and hugs while extorting promises of future adventures and exploration when I return. I kiss them back, my beloved children who have been through so much. The burden of duty that pressed so heavily upon my back before seems light as a feather, spread about their smiling faces and laughter. They gather around one last time to see me depart, with tears of joy and smiles instead of the grief and pain I had feared. Little Gari is the last to speak before I leave, with her head held high and a joyous pride that fills her voice.

“Sleep well, Princess, and return soon. We shall guard thy night while you slumber.”

Traveling Through Time and Space by Alice4444dm on DeviantArt, used by permission.

Luna’s Federation - Diplomancy by Other Means

Week 14 - Luna’s Federation - Diplomancy by Other Means

A Star Trek/My Little Pony Crossover

The Federation starship Pyxis has just finished carrying out a mapping mission at a spatial anomaly that is host to a peaceful race of pre-spaceflight creatures, when it discovers that sometimes the Prime Directive is not as powerful as it may seem.

EqD prompt: Making a promise is the easy part. Keeping it, on the other hoof...

14 - Leap of Faith

-or-
Luna’s Federation - Diplomancy by Other Means

“Celly!” A thunderous hammering echoed through the Canterlot castle as Princess Luna stood outside her sister’s bedchambers, requesting entrance by their traditional means. “Thou has meddled in my beloved night sky once too often! Get thy sun-loving plot out of bed and face us! We allowed thy interference last evening, thinking thou might merely have wished to add a new star to our blessed veil of night, but now you’re moving it!”

A faint clunking of the latch from the other side of the thick oaken door later, a rather bleary Princess Celestia appeared, with sleep mask shoved up on her forehead and both eyes nearly closed. “Luna. Sweetheart. I had a very difficult day with some very difficult ponies today, so if you could explain yourself in small words, I would appreciate it.”

Luna growled, pointing a hoof up at the sky. “New. Star. Moving. Stop it!”

Stifling a yawn, Celestia gave a soft peck on the forehead to her younger sister before turning and shuffling back to bed. “It’s not mine. You deal with it. Good night, Luna. Good night, chair. Good night, bed. G’night…”

Once again, Celestia’s bedroom resounded with the sounds of the Canterlot Royal Snore, and the attending guard closed the heavy door with a quiet thud.

But Luna was not around to hear it.

* * *

“Helm, why can’t we break free of orbit now!” Captain Lee Haan clung to his chair as the starship bucked and heaved beneath him, glaring at his helms officer as if she were somehow offending his decency.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she responded, touching another set of controls that reduced the shaking to a stiff vibration. “Additional power still ineffective. We’re stuck cold.”

“Request permission to use active sensors on the planet, sir,” said Lieutenant Strella at the Tactical station. “Perhaps if we can isolate the source of the tractor beam, we can destroy it.”

Haan gave his Andorian Weapons Officer a quelling look. “Somehow I don’t think Starfleet would look very favorably on us phasering some still-functioning ancient ruin on a Class B planet unless we were seriously in danger. If nothing else, the Histories and Antiquities sections would have us both filling out paperwork until we were old and grey. Still, it would be nice to see what we’re up against. Shut down the engines, Helm. Commander Tal, if you would please start active scanning.”

“Captain, I must protest.” Tal turned in her chair to face the captain, tucking an old-fashioned stylus behind one ear. “Subspace around this anomalous region is extremely sensitive. Starfleet only permitted our exploratory flight on the condition that we restrict our use of active scanners to a bare minimum.”

“Captain’s prerogative, Commander. I’d like to find out just what stuck us here before we call for a tow. If you need me, I’ll be in my ready room.”

“Aye, Captain.” The Trill touched a single button, making Lee conceal a grin as he walked back to his office for a quick call to Starfleet Histories and Antiquities. The middle-aged Trill had been itching to run a full active scan on the strange planetary system ever since their arrival, no matter how well she thought she was hiding it. No doubt a preprogrammed extensive scan was even now gathering detailed information on the native creatures and their odd home, along with the truly weird solar primary and its matching lunar secondary which both revolved around the planet instead of the way they were supposed to behave. He threw himself in his chair and tapped the accept key on the viewer, still paused in his conversation with Admiral Holite.

“Any luck, Captain?” The admiral had a desk full of ceramic pot shards with a micromanipulator, and Lee was irked that the pot being assembled was farther along than he was with his problem. Grabbing a coffee out of the replicator he took a noisy slurp and scowled before responding.

“Yes, all bad. This place could cause a Vulcan to go into a hopeless giggle fit. I mean in addition to the sun and that really odd moon, the way these tiny planetoids stay in perfect alignment with the moon is still driving the Science section crazy. At first, I thought I wanted to stay here for a couple of weeks, but now all I want to do is go into high warp and watch it vanish behind us.” Lee turned and looked out the thick transteel window before taking another drink of coffee. Then, after a very long pause, he took another.

“Captain!” the intercom sounded with Commander Tal’s excited voice. “We had a reading on the power source that was holding us in orbit, but it’s gone now. It just vanished.”

“Tal,” he started, taking another sip of coffee. “Was this power source about the size of a small terrestrial horse, with wings and one horn on the top of its head?”

There was a fairly long pause before the Science officer responded. “It could be.”

“Somewhat of a dark indigo in color, with blue eyes?”

“That seems oddly specific, Captain. Was Starfleet able to identify the natives of the planet?”

“No, Tal. Not yet.” Captain Haan took another drink of coffee and regarded the native hovering outside his window in cold vacuum, with wings outspread and both big eyes focused on his coffee cup with an unnatural urgency. “I think we should be able to ask them ourselves rather shortly.”

The faint ‘poomf’ of the native vanishing from outside the window and reappearing in his ready room was nearly drowned out by the honking wail of an intruder alert. With the razor-edged efficiency he had grown accustomed in his Security chief, Lieutenant Strella burst through the door to the room, phaser in hand and tracking to cover the feathered intruder—

—and then he stared in disbelief at his empty hand, while the phaser pistol he had been pointing at the native hovered in front of her, glowing a dark violet as the native turned it over for a closer examination.

“What marvelous weapons your Royal Guard possesseth. And such keen attention to your security, too. We must see about an exchange program for our military once proper relations have been established. But we are getting ahead of ourselves.” The native tucked both wings back along her flank and extended a hoof while floating the phaser back to his startled security chief. “We are Princess Luna of Equestria.”

“Captain Lee Haan, of the Federation starship Pyxis,” said Lee, shaking the proffered hoof with a growing sense of disconnection. After a moment to turn off the intruder alert, he continued, “Although I don’t think any military exchange is in store in your world’s immediate future, Princess. The Federation does not interfere in the development of non-starfaring species. The Prime Directive is quite specific; until your world develops interstellar travel on your own, we cannot have any contact with you.”

“Oh, stuff and nonsense,” said the native with a dismissive wave of one hoof. “Thou art among my stars, and we are here with you, therefore we are a star-faring race. Now, let us sit down and discuss how we shall converse between our nations over a beverage and some refreshments. This mechanism is the method which you used to procure that wonderfully scented beverage which you are drinking, yes?”

The native tapped on the wall above the replicator unit and tried to peer inside, while Captain Haas experienced a premonition of just what was going to happen to him at his General Court-Martial and how many years he was going to spend in debriefing. His thoughts slowed his response enough that the native had time enough to spot the disposal chute behind the replicator and get her own idea on how it worked.

“Ah, ‘tis a speaking tube. We have such in the castle.” Clearing her throat, the princess placed her nose into the replicator chamber and bellowed, “WE HATH NEED OF A BEVERAGE SIMILAR TO THE ONE JUST DELIVERED TO THY CAPTAIN!”

Through the ringing in his ears, Lee could vaguely hear the computer respond, “Please be more specific. There are five hundred and seventy four varieties of coffee available.” This time he managed to get his hands over his ears while Princess Luna inhaled for another verbal blast, and was vaguely aware of Lieutenant Strella rolling out the door with his hand over his own sensitive antenna.

“SOMETHING NATIVE TO THE EASTERN LANDMASS OF ASIA WITH THREE SUGARS AND A SMALL AMOUNT OF NON-CLOTTED CREAM!” After the replicator finished, the native picked up the cup in her strange colorful telekinesis and took a small sip. “Delightful. Far better than our last trip to your planet. Didst we hear correctly that thy chef can make over five hundred variants of this excellent beverage?”

“Captain Haas,” said a low but urgent voice that made Lee abruptly and uncomfortably aware that he had not closed his call to Starfleet Base Delta Seven several hundred light-years away. “The Prime Directive clearly states that you are to terminate any conversation with this native lifeform and return it to the planet. You are not authorized to place yourself into a First Contact situation.”

“First contact? We beg thy pardon?” Lee got an extremely close look at the rear end of the creature as it whirled around to face the viewscreen and smacked him in the face with its tail. There seemed to be some sort of planetary body, quite probably the system’s strange moon portrayed on its muscular flank, which was probably indicative of where he was going to spend the rest of his life after Starfleet finished with the legal proceedings.

“My, stars! It is a communication device. I had no idea you humans had progressed so far. Amazing what you are capable of if left alone for a few centuries.” She leaned forward until her nose was almost touching the screen. “And a puzzle!” She giggled, dancing on the tips of her hooves in the ready room with her cup of coffee hoving at her side. “We just love puzzles.”

There was a second ‘poomf’ and the room became distinctly emptier, although Captain Lee could still see the happy native as she was looking over Admiral Holite’s shoulder at the pile of potshards. Some tiny fraction of his mind considered the compatibility of the fractious old admiral for their soon-to-be prison cell even as he watched Luna pick up the scattered potshards in front of the admiral and examine them with a careful eye.

“Now you can’t… Put those down… That’s a Yuan Dynasty excavation! It’s very fragile and—”

The admiral had a croggled look on his face that Captain Haas recognized, due to the reflection of his own face on the transteel window separating him from however many of these creatures who occupied the surface of the planet below. The indigo field that surrounded the shards spun them in a tight circle, and the resulting vase quickly formed as the pieces slipped back together. There was a faint glow from the cracks between the pieces and Luna sat it back down on the table with a satisfied smile.

“Huzzah! Although you were missing a few pieces that I had to recreate. Would it be possible…” The creature stopped, and held a hoof up to her mouth. “Oh, beg pardon. We did it again. We are Princess Luna, Diarch of Equestria.”

The admiral shook the offered hoof and blinked a few times before suavely bowing to give it a gentle kiss. “I am Admiral Holite, of Starfleet Command. As a princess of a star-faring race, it is only proper that we sit down and see what sort of arrangements may be made between our peoples…”

~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~

Several hours later, Captain Haas stood on the bridge, watching Princess Luna effortlessly heft several heavy cargo containers at her side. Included in the trade goods were a portable replicator programmed with every coffee recipe in the Starfleet memory banks, as well as a number of items the First Contact team tended to call ‘beads and jangles.’

“Farewell, Captain Lee Haas. We are well pleased with thy role in our proposed treaty, and look forward to many years of friendship between our ponies. Peoples. We promise thou shalt not regret thy decision. My sister and I shall be most pleased to return to thy vessel tomorrow night and continue our conversation.”

Lee nodded his head and smiled broadly. “Thank you, Princess Luna. We look forward to seeing you then.”

The smile stayed on his face until the Equestrian princess faded from view and Commander Tal announced, “Captain, passive sensors record Luna has returned to her home.”

“Good. Helm, execute Scalded Cat.”

Less than three seconds later, the starship Pyxis was at maximum warp.

~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~

Commander Tal took her seat at the side of the captain in the ready room with the rest of the crew gathered around the table, each with a cup of coffee. “You were right, Captain. It has been nearly an entire day, and there have been no sign of pursuit. As you surmised, it appears the beings are only able to transport themselves by means of a subspace carrier wave. I’ve entered the system as a navigational hazard with a two parsec exclusion zone around it, and that should keep the Equestrian race securely in their home system until they develop space flight on their own.”

“Very good, Commander. I really hated lying to Princess Luna that way, but keeping the Prime Directive is far more important.” Lee leaned back in his chair and looked at his command crew, all of which were looking back in his direction.

But just a little off to either side.

And a little higher.

W15 - The Traveling Tutor and the Changeling Queen's Nephew

Week 15 - The Traveling Tutor and the Changeling Queen’s Nephew

A side-story to the Traveling Tutor series, occurring after The Traveling Tutor and the Librarian and The Traveling Tutor and the Diplomat’s Daughter in the upcoming story, The Traveling Tutor and the Royal Exam

What does a Unicorn Magic Youth Educational Specialist (Grades 0-3) do when he is requested to train the nephew of Queen Chrysalis? Improvise, of course (after panic, confusion, despair, terror and hopelessness have all been exhausted)

EqD prompt: Learning happens in all sorts of weird and wonderful ways in Equestria, as this one pony finds out.

15 - Testing, Testing, 1, 2, 3
-or-
The Traveling Tutor and the Changeling Queen’s Nephew

Green Grass had met nearly every kind of student and parent in his short but meteoric career, but today was turning out to be just a little more unusual than normal. And considering yesterday, that was saying something.

“So you want me to tutor your nephew?”

Technically, he had met the Queen of the Changelings once before, but at the time she was impersonating Princess Cadence, and doing an excellent job of it too. Despite being physically near his last meeting, this morning in the Changeling Ambassadorial suite of the Canterlot castle was a completely different experience. For starters, the sleepy queen was in all of her morning glory, wearing a comfortable tattered bathrobe and sipping on a cup of coffee with a few curlers still in her mane. The ambassador to Equestria was seated somewhat uncomfortably to her side, still wearing her pony disguise of a unicorn so intensely yellow that Green Grass caught himself trying to determine if she was a Saffron, Dandelion or even a Gold. Wedding planning was definitely going to drive him crazy at this rate, and he had barely started.

“Well, you want something from me, I want a little something back. A little quid pro for your quo as it were.” Chrysalis yawned, showing entirely too many sharp teeth for Green Grass’ comfort, before taking a rather large bite out of a maple-frosted donut. “By the way, thank you, Your Highness, for breakfast.”

Princess Luna nodded back, finishing her own small bite of the frosted concoction with a sip of coffee. “You’re welcome, Your Majesty. I’ve found Donut Joe’s a delightful establishment to visit. Perhaps we can have breakfast there tomorrow and discuss the latest negotiations in a less formal atmosphere.”

“Not the donuts, Luna.” Crystalis gestured at Green Grass with the remains of the donut. “Pale green and tubby there.” The changeling queen took a deep breath, somehow managing to make it look obscene on two different levels. “Almost like Shining Armor, but without that obstinate streak of directed violence and just a little hint of…” She trailed off with an additional sniff and a smile that raised goosebumps up and down Green Grass’ mane.

“Remember our agreement, Queen Chrysalis.” Luna sipped once from her coffee, the remainders of her donut nowhere to be seen, although there was a single crumb resting rather precariously on her doublet which gave the embroidered moon an expression somewhat resembling a monster’s eye.

“Yes, Princess.” Chrysalis took one last sniff before biting rather viciously into her donut. “We don’t interfere with your precious little ponies and you don’t…” She cocked an eyebrow at Luna, obviously daring her to complete the sentence.

Feeling a little like an ant in a battle of elephants, Green Grass cleared his throat. “I really don’t see any problems with tutoring your nephew, but it seems rather obvious the problems exist, or you would have done it already without me.”

The changeling queen’s eyes flashed a rather virulent green as she turned back to him, and Green Grass got the distinct sensation he was being viewed either on a plate or with a straw stuck out of his body somewhere. Screwing up his courage, he continued while looking her in the eyes. “It certainly can’t be his skill, or you would have thrown him to one side for another more talented. I really doubt it is some physical deformity; from what I understand of changeling culture, the weak are… removed before they grow up. That leaves something about his attitude, and since I’m a tutor of very young unicorns, he must be very young also, about the age that they get their—” Green Grass stopped cold. “No.”

“Changelings do not get cutie marks,” spat Chrysalis, splattering little bits of unchewed donut across the room and one nearby pony. “We pick our special talents when we are very young. Some of us keep a mark that resembles such, and some—” there was a flash of Royal Blue in her eyes “—prefer otherwise. My nephew is proving particularly difficult. He wants to attend Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.”

Green Grass managed a faint but somewhat respectful ‘oh’ of surprise that stayed below audible levels, swallowing before trying to keep his voice level. “Like Twilight?”

“No. Worse.” Chrysalis finished her coffee, taking a bite of the cup and chewing with a certain indication of transferred anger. “I suppose you might as well see.” Raising her voice, Chrysalis called out, “Peeps! You can come in now! Mumsie has talked the nice teacher into giving you lessons.”

“Yeah!” The other door to the room fairly flew open as a white unicorn colt bounded into the room, making two trips around Green Grass before skidding to a stop and looking up at him with bright blue eyes. Although he was in disguise, there was a certain something that was familiar about his two-toned blue mane and the little blue ‘cuffs’ that covered from his pastern to his hooves. Green Grass had seen that particular color scheme and cutie mark before, although Twilight Velvet’s baby book pictures of Shining Armor lacked the bright eagerness in the eyes that bespoke of a troublemaker destined to a life of lawbreaking rather than law enforcement.

“Lord Green Grass of House Chrysanthemum, I would like to introduce my nephew, Peep Sprout of the Royal House of Me.” Chrysalis unwrapped the last curler from her mane and regarded the rather stunned tutor with a roll of her eyes. “No, he’s not your soon-to-be nephew. Pity. And we tried so hard.”

Green Grass whirled in place, his jaw dropping almost to the ground. “You mean you and Shining Armor… Ew?”

“Why the disbelief?” Chrysalis rose to her hooves and walked around Green Grass, flicking him with her tail. “The process can be rather fun, at times, with the right partner. Or I suppose you already knew that.” The form of the tall changeling queen that passed behind him changed to a rather familiar purple alicorn when she emerged back into his view, only the Twilight Sparkle disguise that she wore was rather thicker in the middle.

There was a rather direct cough from Princess Luna, and Chrysalis turned with a grin. “You’re right, Lulu. He’s just adorable when he’s flustered. Does he have an older brother?”

“Peep!” blurted out Green Grass, taking a few quick breaths before concentrating on his new student. “I mean Peep Sprout. Do you have… another disguise? That one is going to be too distracting.”

“Awww! But I like this one. It takes a lot of work to get the hooves just right.”

The ambassador frowned at the little whining changeling. “Dear, you heard your teacher.”

“But mom!”

“No buts. Change right now, or else.”

With some additional grumbling, the little changeling was engulfed in flickering green fire, emerging as a rather plain tan unicorn colt with a dark green mane. “I don’t like this one,” he complained. “It’s bore-ring.”

“Boring can be good,” said Green Grass in instinctive defense of a technique he had used for years. “As a changeling, you don’t want to stand out, and trotting around like Shining Armor’s baby brother would gather more attention than Celestia in clown shoes. As a matter of fact…” He bent down and stage-whispered in the little changeling’s ear at a volume that the adults in the room could easily hear. “I’m hiding who I am right now. Can you guess what I’m hiding?”

Peep’s eyes lit up and he looked Green Grass over from his lumpy hat to his tail before starting a series of intense questions. “The vest. You’re hiding some sort of coat disease or an appleloosian ancestor that would make you look bad to the rest of the stuffy unicorns in the castle. No? You have tail extensions. No? You’re gay? Oh, wait. Mom told me who you knocked up, so that’s not it.”

A considerable number of questions later, including several that were more than a little uncomfortable, and Peep sat down with a thoughtful frown. “It has to be your horn. Otherwise, why would you cover it up with a hat.”

“No, wrong again. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with my horn, because—” Green Grass lifted his hat to show his short-cropped mane and a somewhat round and completely hornless head “—earth ponies don’t have horns.”

“No way!” Peep ran one little hoof through Green Grass’ mane, looking for perhaps a hidden horn bump or a surgical scar. “How can you be a magical tutor if you don’t have magic? Wait a minute.” He sat back and glared suspiciously at the tutor, a subdued hint of green in his bright blue eyes. “You can’t be a magic tutor if you don’t have magic.”

“Can too.” Green Grass turned his flank and pointed to his cutie mark, a small unicorn horn with a number of weak sparks around it. “It says so right there. Now, if I’m going to teach you, the first thing we’re going to need is to find out just how advanced you are with your magic. The finest unicorn minds in Equestria have put together an evaluation process that every little unicorn goes through before school, so let’s see just where you are compared to others your own age, shall we?”

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

Four hours later, a tired tutor and a disappointed student morosely reviewed a small stack of paper, comparing little penciled dots to a grading scale that had more minus signs than any small colt of any variety should see. “Well. You have a fairly high score on the ingenuity section of the testing,” started Green Grass, poking a pencil at the test results and pausing at the next step.

“I suck.” The little changeling flared a brilliant green, putting his Shining Armor disguise back on before slumping to the floor. “I couldn’t lift the test weights, I knocked all of the pegs down on the dexterity test, and I couldn’t even get the little wheel to spin. It’s a good thing you stopped before we got to the advanced tests, or I would have set something on fire.” One little hoof prodded a box labelled ‘Fourth Level Magic Tests. Caution: Flammable’ before dropping back down to the floor. “I suck,” he repeated.

The room was remarkably empty, considering Green Grass’ habit of keeping at least one older pony in the room whenever he had a student. Luna had slipped out a few minutes after the testing began with a yawn and a quiet word with Queen Chrysalis, who had put on what he had to think of as a ‘Miss Snooty Unicorn’ disguise and followed. Peep’s mother had dropped in and out of the testing with a quill hanging in her magic and a number of inky speckles as if the paperwork of the embassy had decided to gang up on her and she was engaged in a fight for survival. The silence was punctuated by a pair of rumbles, one large, one small, as two stomachs expressed their displeasure at all of the attention that was being used for purposes other than food.

“I think we’re looking at the problem from the wrong angle.” Green Grass gathered up all of the paperwork into one neat pile and tossed it into a box. “Peep, how would you like to take a walk?”

“I don’t know.” The little changeling twisted one hoof against the polished marble floor. “Mom never lets me go outside by myself.”

Green Grass raised one eyebrow. “Dressed like that? It’s no wonder. Pick another disguise and we’ll both go grab something to eat together.” He paused. “Changelings do eat, right?”

“Well, duh!” There was another flare of green magic and the familiar tan unicorn colt was standing where the little Shining Armor had been previously. “No alfalfa or bean curd though. Yeach!”

While they walked through the hallways of the castle, Green Grass mulled the difficulties the little changeling was having with magic that unicorns had easily mastered by his age. Well, most unicorns. He certainly seemed to have enough power, but was just unable to get it focused in the way he needed in order to make the spell work exactly the way it was supposed to work.

There was probably some correlation between his problem and the happy way he chatted about Shining Armor in a hero-worship rattle of facts and personality profiles that would have Green Grass’ future brother-in-law more than a little unnerved. After all, Shining Armor and Cadence had roundly defeated Queen Chrysalis, and now ruled over the Crystal Empire while protecting it with a magical artifact powered by love. To find he had groupies among the defeated changelings would probably fluster Shiny to no end.

When Green Grass broke the news to him, he fully intended on having Featherweight and his camera present. The pictures would be priceless.

Lost in his thoughts, it came as almost a complete surprise to find himself in front of the doors to the Royal Greenhouses instead of the castle cafeteria which he had intended on visiting. True, nearly everything in the cafeteria came from here, but the addition of salad dressing and sprinkles was an important part of his life, and he normally did not eat raw fruits and vegetables except when he was out in one of the small towns, such as Ponyville. Green Grass had just begun to turn and retrace his hoofsteps to where he had made a wrong turn when he spotted something.

Peep had his eyes closed and was taking a deep breath.

Opening the door instead, Green Grass motioned the little changeling colt inside and followed, the warm humidity of the green expanse feeling like a jungle to his suddenly sweating coat. They had not taken two steps inside when a huge red earth pony rumbled into view, gaining speed as he headed in their direction.

“Greenie, mon ami! What has brought you into my little slice of heaven? And what is this?” The huge Prench pony bent down and looked Peep right in the eyes, smiling in an extravagant way that displayed more pearly white teeth than any pony had a right to keep in their mouth all at once. “You have blessed Tomato with a visitor! And such a strong, handsome lad. It is not often that we in the greenhouse are honored by guests. Come! Let us introduce you to the rest of the staff!”

There was a rolling cadence to the big Prench pony’s accent that had the two of them trotting along after him even as Peep managed to say, “Actually we were going to get something to eat for lunch.”

“But of course!” Tomato stopped and waved a hoof around the thick greenery that surrounded them. “In the greenhouse, it is always time for lunch. How do you think I got this big, anyway?” He thumped his massive barrel-like chest with one hoof, giving off a noise like a bass drum. “I have grown fat and lazy down here surrounded by so much food. Here, taste this.” A sweet pea pod was stuffed into each of their mouths as Tomato stripped several more off the nearby plant and waited for them to stop chewing.

“Is good, yes? Here, have another. Or perhaps you would like some snap beans, fresh from the plant. Over here we have a tropical cherry tomato plant, one of my specialties, but as you can see, she does not have much for fruit yet.”

Green Grass faded into the background, which was fairly easy as the background was also green, keeping an eye on the big earth pony and the little changeling while they talked. Tomato had always been an endless font of information about the greenhouse contents, and now seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself while showing Peep around.

Today’s lessons included the proper pronunciation of his name (Is Tomato, just like you expect. Toh-mah-toh.), cutie marks (Is tomato vine, just like your bean sprout. Almost make us like twins, yes?), the irrigation system (Uses only the finest water from the Canterhorn waterfalls, piped directly in here while still bubbling), and the quality of countless varieties of produce (Is good, yes?)

The heat and humidity made Green Grass hang up his jacket and hat while helping tie up tomato vines with Tomato and Peep, trying to conceal a knowing smile as the little changeling lifted heavy pots and delicate vines with far more power and control that he had displayed in the testing. There were a lot of spots on his evaluation that were going to have minus signs turned into plus signs, and probably a few that would be worth multiple plusses. It was probably a little early to be making a reservation in Celestia’s school, but by the time Peep’s mother had found them and they had managed to leave the greenhouse (You bring little Peep back tomorrow and we talk some more, mon petit ami. Tomato can see big things in your future. Mellons be ripening, and we see about picking them at absolutely the perfect peak of ripeness.) Green Grass was smiling even though previously unused muscles in his back and legs were protesting.

“So, do you think you can teach my son, Lord Green Grass?” said the changeling ambassador once the greenhouse door was closed and they were alone in the castle corridor.

“Yes and no. Just a minute,” continued Green Grass with an upraised hoof as the ambassador took a sharp breath. “I think I can help teach your son. All my special talent does is to pick out a field of study that the student finds interesting. I can encourage them down that path, but other teachers will have to teach him the specifics.”

“That doesn’t sound very useful,” said the ambassador with a scowl.

“Let’s find out from the source.” Green Grass turned to Peep Sprout and nodded. “Go ahead. Tell your mother what you learned today.”

There was a blaze of green fire and the small tan colt was replaced by a green unicorn colt the exact shade and tint of Green Grass’ coat. “I learned about a new role model!” he declared proudly.

Fighting a facehoof, Green Grass prompted, “And?”

“Oh, yeah. Plants take lots of care, lots of attention, and love to grow.”

“Good,” said Green Grass with a smile.

“And we only eat them once they’re ripe.”

“Very good,” added Green Grass.

“Just like ponies,” declared Peep Sprout with his chest puffed out and mischief dancing in his eyes.

Green Grass looked back at the ambassador, who had the grace to seem embarrassed.

“Well, it’s a start.”

W16 - Judge Trixie and the Case of the Rummy Moose - A Feghoot Story

Week 16 - Judge Trixie and the Case of the Rummy Moose - A Feghoot Story

When Twilight Sparkle needs to rule on a disputed trade at the Rainbow Falls Trading Exchange, she needs somepony with a certain specialization to make a fair judgement. One set of wings later, the Great and Powerful Trixie is willing to examine the evidence and make a ruling, but will she find out that the case is really more appropriate to be settled by her arch-rival instead?

EqD Prompt: There must always be a princess at the Rainbow Falls Trader Exchange.

16 - Trade Ya!
-or-
Judge Trixie and the Case of the Rummy Moose - A Feghoot Story

“Trixie! Trixie! There you are!”

Trixie snatched up the bag of pine nuts she was trying to trade for a new wagon and stuffed them into her hat, jamming it on top of her head just as Twilight Sparkle came flapping into sight like some terrified purple chicken, complete with flapping wings.

“What?” she snapped. “The Great and Powerful Trixie was in negotiations for a new production of such power and fame that it will propel her to—”

“I need your help, Trixie!” panted Twilight Sparkle as she flopped to a graceless landing, knocking over the wagon seller’s display and causing a small gust of wind that made the decaying window fall out of the proud wagon Trixie had been in negotiations to purchase. “I’ll do anything for you, Trixie, if you’ll just help me this once.”

“Anything?” said Trixie, staring off into space. “Like anything anything, or just anything?”

“Anything anything,” gasped Twilight, still panting from her panic-driven flight.

A deep rumble sounded as Trixie prepared to answer and the stab of hunger pains made her flinch, postponing any plans for ultimate revenge in favor of something a little more practical. “How about lunch?”

Twilight froze. “Lunch? Well, I didn’t think… Well, I had hoped… I suppose a nice quiet romantic lunch at a classy restaurant with dessert and a show afterwards would be a good beginning to spending the afternoon walking along the beach, hoof in hoof while we look for a quiet place to put down a beach towel and explore each other’s most intimate—”

“Lunch!” shouted Trixie in wide-eyed panic. “Just lunch! Food! Maybe something to drink too. Or a lot of somethings to drink to wipe that image out of the Great and Powerful Trixie’s mind.”

“Drink!” The newest Equestrian princess promptly perked up and rounded on Trixie with every speck of her previous enthusiasm. “I’ve got a case in front of the Dispute Court that I can’t resolve by myself, and I need you to sit in on it for me.”

Trixie drew back and arranged her hat, which had begun to slip due to the weight of pine nuts inside. “Only a princess can sit on the Dispute Court, Twilight Sparkle. And since fate decided to give you wings instead of—”

“Wings! That’s it! Hold still.” There was a blinding violet flash as the world seemed to wrap around Trixie in a kaleidoscope of color and sensation, crushing her in a violent embrace as the purple pony princess managed to get her revenge on the Great and Powerful first. She struggled in vain against the power of an alicorn, eventually getting her nose into a weak spot in her cocoon of magic and managing to break free.

“That’s it, Sparkle,” growled Trixie while lighting her horn and rising up into the air on her new wings. “I’m going to… going to… Why am I up here and you’re down there?”

Looking back over her shoulder, Trixie was astonished to see two beautiful butterfly wings spread wide and flapping slowly, reflecting the brilliant sunlight in a cascade of rainbows that glittered and flashed among the appreciative crowd.

“Great! Let’s go!” Twilight rose into the air and darted back in the direction she had come from, followed by a rather dazed temporary princess.

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

The cushion that Trixie had been seated on was not really worthy of royalty, and the scepter she had been given looked suspiciously like a curtain rod, but there were a great number of… well, a few dozen ponies out in the audience gazing at Her Temporary Highness with love and admiration… well, curiosity and admiration for Trixie’s Great and Powerful wings. Still, it was a paying job, and nopony was throwing vegetables yet, so it beat Tartarus out of pine nuts for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She thumped the rear end of the curtain rod against the stage and nodded to Spike, who was standing by her side in the cutest little page outfit.

“Oy ye, oy ye, let all who have business before the court of the Great and Powerful Princess for a Day Trixie, come forth and present your prepositions.”

“Spike!” Twilight Sparkle poked her nose out from the side of the stage and hissed at her assistant, who had moved in front of Trixie with a long checklist and a quill. “That’s propositions, not prepositions.”

“Aren’t you at least going to wait until after the date, Twilight?” asked Spike with a discreet cough.

“Just… introduce the parties to the case.”

“Well, okay. In the Red corner, weighing in at—”

“Spike!” Twilight poked her nose out of the curtain again and scowled at her assistant. “Follow your script.”

“Sheesh! Allow a guy some leeway.” The little dragon adjusted the list and continued. “The first party in the trading dispute is Monsieur Roué Moose and his wife, Eclair. They came to the Trading Exchange to trade a bottle of their rare Mosalian Rum for some other vintages.”

“Bonjour belles demoiselles.” The tall moose swept into a deep bow at Trixie and doffed his bowler hat while his wife just nodded in agreement.

“Bonjour indeed,” replied Trixie. “Are you perhaps a Prench-Caneighdian?”

The moose recoiled. “Nay, beautiful princess. I am a proud native of Equestria, as is my wife, a proud buffalo of the Stampeding Pathways tribe. In our native tongue, my name is Sprints Lightly Over Forest Scrub and my squaw is Deep Waters.”

“Squaw?” asked Trixie with an inquisitive tilt to her head.

“Ugg,” replied Eclair.

“Although I speak over fourteen languages, I’m afraid my squaw does not speak Equestrian, Princess. Our native tongue is not the focus of our dispute, though. Please proceed.”

“Right!” said Spike. “In the blue corner—”

“Spike!”

“Okay, okay. The other party to the dispute is the Hoot brothers, Fern and Feg, and their wives.” Two male unicorns stepped forward with a pair of female buffalo at their sides, each with a bottle carried under one crooked foreleg.

“Good afternoon, Princess Trixie,” said Fern. “What beautiful wings you have today.”

“They really bring out the color in your cheeks,” said Feg. “Perhaps after the trial is over, we can all get together and share a few drinks. Our wives make the most delicious rum in all of Equestria. Far better than that swill that the moose’s wife makes.”

Both female buffalo grunted once and looked at Trixie.

“I object, Your Highness!” shouted Roué. “My wife’s rum is exactly twice as good as the inferior product these two hucksters traded for, fair and square, and now they want to back out of the deal after drinking half of the bottle. I will never be able to trade just a half bottle of my excellent rum, particularly after they drank out of it.”

Both Fern and Feg promptly clutched a hoof to their chest and protested, “Your Highness! We would never drink directly out of a bottle. Our mother would never allow it. And to prove it, we brought our mother to the trial. Say hello, mother.”

A rather shaggy stallion wearing a blue dress and a bonnet staggered out onto the stage wearing high-heeled shoes. “These are my sons, and they are honest and above reproach,” he announced in a loud and off-key voice. “Now where’s my twenty bits.”

“Ah-HA!” shouted Twilight, bursting out of the side of the stage to point an accusing hoof at the moose. “Obviously you are lying about these fine upstanding Equestrian citizens, or you would have brought your mother as a character witness too! Trixie, you should cancel the trade.”

“Actually,” said Fern, holding up one hoof. “We’re native Equestrians too. That’s why we married buffalo. Plus they make excellent rum.”

Trixie shook her head and took the announcement sheet from Spike before turning to the two parties in the dispute. “It says here that Mister Moose there put up one bottle of his wife’s best rum in trade, is that correct?”

The female buffalo by the moose grunted in a generally affirmative way.

“And that you two gentlecolts,” continued Trixie, “had each of your wives put up a bottle of their rum in trade too, correct?”

The two buffalo grunted, also sounding vaguely affirmative.

“And now you want me to cancel the trade because the Hoot brothers claim the single bottle of rum they received was an inferior product, correct?”

Both Fern and Feg grunted once, then rapidly nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Well, I see only one way to solve this problem,” declared Trixie. “I’m going to need to see the trading materials in question, and a glass.”

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

Five minutes later, Trixie sat before a table with three bottles and a single glass. With exceeding care, she poured a small sample of the first bottle and drank it down. After writing her comments on a small tablet, she then proceeded to the second bottle and repeated the process.

And then the third.

And then back to the first.

And then a few times back and forth between the second and the third.

Then a long, solid examination of the first bottle again.

And then…

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

“The Great and Powerful Princess Trixie has come to a conclusion.” Trixie paused with one hoof in the air, contemplating the way the light from her wings reflected off it in little gold and red sparkles.

“Um. Trixie? They’re waiting.” Spike tapped Trixie on the upraised hoof until the judge shook herself out of her contemplative state and looked back out into the audience. “A conclusion,” she repeated.

“Yes,” cried Twilight Sparkle, bouncing up and down at the side of the stage. “I knew you would find in favor of those nice stallions and their mother.”

“Don’t be silly, Twilight.” Trixie shook her head and sighed. “As a librarian, you should know that you can’t judge a crook by his mother.”

“Oh,” said Twilight. “You’re right. Well, what about the case? Which of two had the best rum?”

“It’s not merely which of the buffalo mares makes the best rum, Twilight,” started Trixie. “Mister Moose’s wife has to make rum twice as good as the Hoot brother’s wives in order for the trade to be all right and correct. It’s a simple mathematical equation that should be right down your alley.”

Standing up in a slow and somewhat unsteady fashion, Trixie faced the crowd and announced, “It is the judgement of me, the Great and Powerful Princess Trixie, that the trade conducted between Roué the Moose and the Hoot brothers is fair and right, due to the rum adhering to the Ponyhagorean Theorem.”

“I understand now,” said Twilight Sparkle. “In this right trade angle, the rum of the squaw of the hyperglot moose is equal to the rums of the squaws of the other two guys.”

W17 - Princess Celestia’s Most Memorable Birthday Present - A Twilestia Story

Week 17 - Princess Celestia’s Most Memorable Birthday Present - A Twilestia Story

After the Inspiration Manifestation spell had been cleaned from Ponyville, Twilight Sparkle finally has time to shop for Princess Celestia’s birthday present, but in the end, she discovers that her affection for Celestia is best expressed by creation. On a large scale.

EqD Prompt:
Another pony is somehow imbued with the Inspiration Manifestation spell.

17 - Inspiration Manifestation
-or-
Princess Celestia’s Most Memorable Birthday Present - A Twilestia Story

Equestria’s newest princess was pissed.

There was a scale to Twilight’s moods, and over the last dozen or so years of his life, Spike had observed enough of them to have developed a full wall-sized chart complete with color coded warnings and appropriate flags to fly to provide an evacuation warning to the neighborhood. It was by no means a linear scale, with happy at the bottom and angry at the top, oh no. This was Twilight Sparkle, after all. There would have been a series of n-space fractal tesseracts on this theoretical scale labelled ‘Stay out of the basement at all costs if you value your present shape and genus’ for when she was in an experimental mood, and ‘Don’t ask, just go buy more ice cream’ for when she returned from a particularly bad date, and even ‘Agree with everything Twilight says and don’t pop her happy bubble’ for when she returned from a meeting with Princess Celestia.

Then there was ‘Pissed’ on the chart. Not pissed on, or pissed off, but just plain ‘Apologize even if it wasn’t your fault for whatever got her this way’ pissed where it was best not to read comic books or express joy in any fraction of life for fear of elevating that mood to hither before unknown heights of pissedness.

“Spike, I can’t believe you ate that book just to keep it away from Rarity! I know she was possessed by Dark Magic—” and somehow Twilight managed to pronounce the words capitalized “—but there had to be another way. Hold still.”

He had lost track of just how many times Twilight had cast the Dark Magic purging spell on him that evening, but this time there was just barely a little flicker of green, a far cry from the first time she had used the spell on him and filled the entire room with green smoke.

“Princess Celestia’s birthday is tomorrow, and I still don’t have a present for her, Spike! Even though we spent all day together cleaning up the town, side-by-side as a proper princess and her grown-up student should, it was still a horrible imposition on her schedule, and she probably is going to spend all day tomorrow catching up instead of enjoying herself and it’s all my fault. Well, except for the part where you gave the evil book of Dark Magic to my friend!”

“I said I’m sorry, Twilight. Did you want me to help you pick out a present for her?”

“NO! I mean no, Spike. There are a few stores still open this evening, so you just go to bed and I’ll find something.”

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

“I can’t find anything!” moaned Twilight. “And I’ve searched every store in Ponyville, even the ones I had to ask the owners to come unlock them so I could see for myself.” She sat down in a damp patch of grass and regarded the night sky, or at least would have regarded it if the entire sky had not been taken up by a huge stack of clouds awaiting assembly for a good morning soak. There was something about the clouds that called to her, something green and insidious that vaguely resembled the vast quantity of Dark Magic that she had spent most of the day cleaning out from Ponyville. Then inspiration struck with a peal of far-off thunder and a green glow that filled her eyes and her magic with power.

“If I can’t find the perfect birthday present for Princess Celestia, I’ll make the perfect birthday present!”

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

“Good morn to you, Princess Sleepyhead.” Princess Luna was feeling in a chipper mood as she whisked the covers off Celestia’s bed and teleported them to the laundry for good measure. “Rise and shine. The castle staff is preparing a cake for your ‘surprise’ birthday party. Shall I alert the Canterlot fire patrol to be standing by?”

There was a noise much the same as the mud in the untouched depths of a swamp would make when an unwary hoof was pulled out of it, a somewhat gummy and moist noise that linguists would despair at attempting to match to any known Equestrian dialect. A delicate Yixing teacup nearly as old as the drinker levitated down to in front of Princess Celestia’s lips, and the noise repeated, somewhat more muted and with the distinctive slurp of morning coffee vanishing to fuel the day⁽¹⁾.

(1) Had a certain coffee supplier in the Canterlot market known the identity of one of his regular customers, he certainly would have used that phrase in his advertisements.

“G’morning Luna.” The contents of the cup gone, the cup was levitated back up to be refilled as the Sun rose, slowly and with considerable popping of joints and subliminal creaks, until Celestia put both forehooves on the floor of the bedroom and began blindly looking for her slippers.

“Here you go, my delightful and incredibly older sib.” A pair of comfortable fuzzy slippers slipped (because that’s what they did) under her forehooves, and with great effort, Celestia managed to open one eye through the crusts of a good night’s sleep cut off far too soon.

“How can you be so chipper in the mornings, Luna?” After a disparaging look at her teacup, Celestia gulped down the contents and held it out to be refilled again. “And you’re using my good tea things for coffee again.”

Luna yawned before nuzzling her sister, staying away from the Royal Morning Breath that lingered with the intensity of the blazing sun. “It’s all that I can do to keep my eyes open this morning, dear sister. With all of the work we did yesterday, I’m pooped.”

Celestia raised one Royal Eyebrow. “You floated around Ponyville with your earbuds plugged into your music and pointed at spots we missed.”

“A vital portion of any clean-up effort. ‘Twould be a shame if any Dark Magic remained. Now, come. My beautiful moon needs her rest as I do.”

Celestia followed her sister to the balcony in the morning gloom with her eyes nearly shut. She had walked this path for so many years that at times she thought about going through her entire daily ritual with her eyes closed, if it would not have been so troublesome to explain her experiment to so many curious servants. As she could feel the easing of the moon below the horizon, Celestia focused her will on the sun, feeling a joyous happiness of life flood through her veins that made coffee seem like jasmine tea. She luxuriated in the morning rays with a deep breath, feeling the morning flow through her mane in rippling strands behind her even as the discordant crash of Luna’s coffeepot splashed hot coffee across her hooves. She opened her eyes with a jolt and was just on the verge of asking her sister what was wrong when she saw it too.

A moment later, the fragile cup that had endured Nightmare Moon, Discord, and Twilight Sparkle’s years of training fell to the floor alongside the remains of the coffeepot, crashing into thousands of antique pieces of clay.

Silence reigned over the balcony, and after a considerable time regarding what she could see in the sky, Celestia thought that it seemed to be reigning over the entire city of Canterlot too. Perhaps she could get it a throne.

Luna was the first to make a noise, a somewhat strangled snort of merriment that ended with a, “My.”

After another timeless moment, Celestia contributed, “Oh, me.”

Waiting for further enlightenment seemed futile, and Luna added, “Twilight, I presume?”

Celestia turned her head sideways and squinted at one particularly detailed cloud in the distance. After a lengthy consideration of the scientific accuracy of the cloud sculpture in comparison to her lack of progress on the Royal Diet, Celestia nodded.

The towering banks of clouds over Ponyville and much of the surrounding area had been lifted to great heights overnight and spread out across the sky with Twilight’s acute attention to detail and order. There she had applied her hitherto unknown skill in sculpture along with her new pegasus magic to create a set of cloud-sculptures that boggled the mind in size, scope, and content.

Particularly content.

In particular, content involving the affectionate relationship between Equestria’s oldest and youngest princess.

Very detailed content.

In some circles, it could be considered educational.

In other circles, there were other words that could be used for it.

“I am most impressed with Twilight’s use of colors in your birthday present, Tia,” said Luna. “I believe our subjects are unable to get that particular shade of purple and gold in the evening sunsets.”

“Luna,” started Celestia, and then paused at a lack of any other appropriate words.

“And creating cloud sculptures that tall? Certes, portions of it might be visible from Cloudsdale, in particular—” Luna paused, seeming conflicted in her selection “—that one with the… interesting saddle.”

“Luna…”

“I had no idea you payed that much attention to your student’s education in such matters, sister.”

“Is that sculpture… nursing?” asked Celestia, her attention distracted from her sister’s snarky comments by a particularly good representation of early foal nutrition, only with somewhat older subjects than most educational material might feature.

“It’s so pleasant that Twilight Sparkle is willing to share her talents with you on your birthday, dear sister. In fact, we might consider sending several of these remarkable works on an Equestrian tour so that all of our subjects might marvel in their raw beauty.”

“Our subjects?” Then after a moment for the thought to soak in. “Our SUBJECTS! Luna, we need to get this cleaned up before our subjects…”

In the distance across Canterlot, the clatter of hooves could be heard. It was thin, being as many of the Canterlot nobles had never seen the sun rise in their life, but the applause grew in volume as the two princesses listened, one in horror and the other in humor.

After taking a moment to recover from her subdued snickering, Luna kissed her sister gently on the cheek and trotted for the door. “Sorry about missing a spot yesterday, Tia. Enjoy your birthday, dear sister, and when you travel to Ponyville to straighten this last little bit out, do give Twilight Sparkle a kiss for me.”

W18 - Throwing Pies and Cakes For Gold

Week 18 - Throwing Pies and Cakes For Gold

The Equestrian Games has started a new event this year, and the combined team of Cup Cake and Carrot Cake have volunteered to represent Ponyville. Everything is going fine until they discover the Pear Throwing For Distance event is actually the Pairs Throwing For Distance event, and Mrs. Cake is somewhat… less than aerodynamic.

Inspired by Skywriter’s Martial Bliss

EqD Prompt:
Describe another pony's Equestria Games experience. It can be any pony not shown competing in one of the events in the episode, and can include both the event they competed in and what happened before and after during their visit to the Crystal Empire.

18 - Equestrian Games
-or-
Throwing Pies and Cakes For Gold

There was something exhilarating about the sound of thousands of excited ponies all screaming in joy at the same time, and Carrot Cake paused at the team waiting area doorway to soak it all in. He had really expected to be enjoying the Equestria Games as a spectator instead of a participant except for a last-minute panicked begging by Pinkie Pie when Cranky Donkey and Mulinda had to drop out of their event due to a sudden attack of lumbago. It had sounded easy enough. After all, he still had a good shoulder on him from pitching at the Ponyville softball games, and a pear was not all that different in size or weight from a softball.

The whole trip to the Crystal Empire had been one long blur of motion with excited twins providing ten times the energy of their normal frantic state. Pumpkin Cake had actually chewed through her foal leash while Pound Cake had simply snapped his like a piece of twine during the trip. If it had not been for Spike taking care of the baggage and Pinkie Pie flinging herself into foalsitting, he and Cup would have been a pair of nervous wrecks. As it was, they had not even been able to get a look at the suits that Rarity had stitched together for “Team Cake” before having to run for the train and find their seats. And as he looked down at the glittery skin-tight outfit that he had just wedged his lanky form into, he was starting to regret that lapse.

“Mornin’ neighbor.” The compact form of Pinkie Pie’s father plodded to his side, a sleek grey unitard covering everything but his cutie mark and his head. Carrot nodded at the stallion, taking in the competitor number on his side and the relatively unique absence of Limestone Pie’s hat while the rock farmer did much the same while looking over Carrot’s much more colorful outfit. Clyde ‘Limestone’ Pie was a regular visitor to Ponyville, if you were to define ‘regular’ as ‘once a year to drop off Pinkie Pie’s birthday present (a rock)’ and Carrot had gotten used to (as much as anypony) some of his idiosyncrasies, such as calling everypony in Equestria ‘neighbor’ or a preference for a pinch of mud added to his coffee.

“It’s a good day, Clyde. Not too hot. Not too cold. How are the rocks getting along?”

“Fine, just fine. Still, wish Pinkamina would have stayed at home instead of heading off to the big city, but a rock’s gotta roll downhill, I always say. How’s your little pebbles?”

“Growing fast. Pinkie’s got them up in the stands to help cheer for us both. I hope—” Carrot Cake cut off as a female pegasus glided by outside, ascending up and across the sky in a long parabola that vanished from his sight with a solid thud. “What in heck was that?”

“Pegasus,” said Clyde.

“No, I mean—” A loud voice from the public address system pronounced that the most recent team had just set an Equestrian Games record, and Carrot edged up on his toes to try to see over the crowd. “She wasn’t even flapping.”

“They ain’t allowed to flap none,” said Clyde. “It’d spoil the whole purpose of the event. It’s all in the orientation packet.” The middle-aged stallion hoofed over a folder of papers which Carrot read with increasing horror.

“You mean it’s a Pairs Throwing For Distance event instead of a Pear Throwing event? Who in their right mind would make an event out of throwing your spouse?

0 -0- 0
0 0

Less than an hour later as he stood with the rest of the earth pony teams in the starting area, the whole event was making even less sense. The unicorns had been the most dramatic, several of which had made a specific point (pardon the pun) of landing horn-first in the snowbanks that had been spread across the landing zone to prevent serious injury to the falling ponies.

Many of the earth-pony towns in Equestria had sent their finest athletic couples, and once the unicorns had quit falling from the sky, a barrage of muscular earth pony mares soon followed. In rather swift order, Carrot found himself at the launching line with Cup looking at him in a most curious fashion. To be honest, he had never actually picked up his wife since they were married, or before it either. The traditional carry-the-bride-across-the-threshold moment had been more of a trip and a cascade of two giggling young ponies and a pile of luggage, and even though it had been over a decade since that embarrassing moment, he still had not quite gotten over it.

“Coming to the starting line, we have the team from Ponyville. Number 68, Cup Cake and Carrot Cake of the Sugarcube Corner bakery.”

The skin-tight unitard that Rarity had made for Cup left very little to the imagination and owed a great deal of its present intact status to the strength of modern fabrics. Due to the ‘few pounds’ that Cup had yet to shed after the birth of the twins and a certain amount of old measurements in Rarity’s dressmaking files, the taunt unitard fairly hummed with restrained pressure, making his wife of many years waddle just slightly as she took her place to his side with a wan smile.

“Hurry up, Honeybunch,” she whispered. “This thing is killing me. I can hardly breathe.”

“Don’t worry, Dumpling,” he whispered back while bending over to get a grip on his wife for the throw. “It’s only best of three distances and we’re done.”

The taunt unitard was slick in addition to being undersized, and his hooves tended to slide over it as he hefted her up in his grasp. Well, hefted. There was very little ‘up’ in what he was trying to do, and after a few abortive attempts, he managed to get his head under her barrel and lift. With one convulsive spasm, Cup flew into the air, landing less than a body-length away with a splat into the wet snow.

“And it looks like we have a record, folks. A record failure, that is. That puts Ponyville firmly at the very tail end of the leaderboard, with only two more attempts remaining.”

0 -0- 0
0 0

“And here comes the team from Ponyville again. Let’s see if they can beat their last distance.”

Carrot bent his back and strained to lift, making only a little squeak of protest as Cup shifted in his grasp. Spots swam in front of his eyes as he staggered, first to one side, then another, finally bunching every muscle he had into one cataclysmic heave that left him panting on the ground as Cup soared away. Well, for a given value of ‘soar.’ Also in a slightly different direction than he had planned.

“Ooh, that’s gotta hurt. The Ponyville team has managed to flatten the line judges and knock over the scoring table. We’re going to take a brief break while they put everything back together and do the measurements, but I think this is our first negative distance in the entire history of the event.”

0 -0- 0
0 0

With nerves tingling in his back, Carrot Cake approached the line for a third time, fully aware of the hush that had settled over the thousands of spectators. Or at least he pretended it was a hush instead of the low giggling that he could actually hear. His wife held steady as Carrot tried to grab for a hoofhold, his trembling hooves trying several grips before the skinny stallion sat down with a thud.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I just can’t.”

“Aww, that’s okay, Sweetie.” Cup patted Carrot compassionately on the back. “You’re just not as strong as you were back when we were kids.”

“It’s not that, dear. You put on quite a few pounds with the twins, and—”

“WHAT!”

Dead silence filled the arena, allowing every pony to hear the long scream of panic as Carrot Cake soared into the air, traveling far down the field until he crashed into the second tier of bleacher seats.

“And it looks like the team from Ponyville has set a new record! The measurement crew is on the way to the field right now, and we’ll have the results for you shortly, but I’m betting I see gold in their future.”

W 19 - Cutting the Chord, Swinging the Hammer, and Dropping the Piano

Week 19 - Cutting the Chord, Swinging the Hammer, and Dropping the Piano

After Tirek’s rampage, Princess Twilight Sparkle had lost her home and all of the things that her friends and family had contributed to it over the years she had been in Ponyville. Fortunately for her, Twilight Velvet had managed to find and restore one precious memory for her favorite daughter to take into her new home, forever.

Unfortunately, it was a piano. The same piano Twilight Sparkle and her friends had ‘accidentally’ pushed off a tower balcony during her move to Ponyville. Even after the remains had been stuffed into a locked chest and disposed of forever in the depths of Tartarus, her mother had brought it home, restored it to perfect condition, and returned it.

After all, Twilight Velvet loves her daughter, and knows how much the piano means to her.

EqD Prompt: Tirek wasn't the only creature to escape from Tartarus when Cerberus left his post...

Inspired by the fantastic 100 percent move, 50 percent fire by Estee Read all of them and enjoy.

19 - Twilight’s Kingdom
-or-
Cutting the Chord, Swinging the Hammer, and Dropping the Piano

A piano was the last thing on Princess Twilight Sparkle’s mind as she trotted through the Crystal Castle of Friendship with Spike at her heels. The new castle felt just like a brand new book to her, all filled with unexplored secrets and little niches that needed to be explored, categorized, and enjoyed. While most buildings in Ponyville seemed larger on the inside than outside, the Castle of Friendship seemed larger whenever her friends were there with her. There were even a few of the Day and Night Guards poking around with them, because the argument ‘It’s just a Tree, not a Castle, so it doesn’t need Royal Guards’ just didn’t hold any water now.

Much in the way that the sheep appreciated the dog keeping the timber wolves away, Princess Twilight Sparkle appreciated the guard’s role in keeping the Canterlot press corps at hoof’s reach, or farther. It was almost magical to watch a photographer weasel and twist into the best spot to take a picture of Her Royal Elusive Highness of Books doing something that could be misinterpreted. They would set up their camera, lick their lips — and a nice young pair of muscular guards would sweep in and take the intruder away before they could push the shutter. They never seemed to appear again, and Twilight was a little hesitant about asking their fate; she preferred to think of them as simply being severely discouraged and set free some distance away, in some humane catch-and-release program like Fluttershy did for inquisitive skunks.

The new castle was certainly large enough to hold them all and then some; it bulked over the small sprawling town of Ponyville much like a mother hen over her chicks. In an emergency — and she tried not to think of what that could be — it could most probably hold the entire population of the town comfortably enough for weeks, or until close proximity to Pinkie’s perpetual parties or Rainbow Dash’s tendency to go stir-crazy in small spaces would drive them all out into the disaster again.

Spike had been helping her map the place with a collection of small-square graph paper (ten hooves to the square) as they conducted an evaluation of the rooms, leaving a trail of wadded up drawings as they progressed through the various meeting rooms, the kitchens, the library, the solarium, the astronomy tower, recital room, the library, the herbarium, the library, and of course, the library. There was a certain fractal quality to the castle that was fascinating, hinting at rooms that could only be found if one were to progress around the castle in a particular order, and she was just starting to scribble some notes on her theory when one of the Day Guards came trotting into the room with a look of relief.

“There you are, Your Highness! There is word from the train station that a package has been delivered for you.”

“My books!” she squealed with a happy flap of her wings and one quick circle around the empty library shelves. “Princess Celestia sent the books I ordered from the Archives!”

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

“These are not books,” said Twilight, looking at the huge crate that took up much of the freight dock at the Ponyville railroad terminal.

“Didn’t say it was,” said the stationmaster, producing a clipboard. “Sign here, please.”

“Well, what is it then?” she snapped while writing and looking around for a second, perhaps concealed box of books, resulting in a signature that indicated a certain talent for medical school.

“Yours,” said the stationmaster, checking the signature and nodding to the new princess. “Some crazy mare was bossing around something like twenty earth ponies to get that thing off the flatcar. Barely got it over here before the train was scheduled to continue on to Canterlot. She left you a note, though.”

Twilight unrolled the note and began to read, feeling her stomach sink to her hooves.

To my beloved daughter, Princess Twilight Sparkle

I was so upset when I heard about the little accident that happened to your library house. It is always a loss to your heart when things that mean so much to you and your family are damaged. Just remember that it is just a tree, and if the roots are still strong, it can be regrown into a new tree.

With that in mind, I have rushed my birthday surprise to you. I’m sorry for not having the time to get it moved up to your new ~~house~~ castle, but I’m sure you can get some of the strong, handsome stallions from around town to help carry it to an appropriate location for the presentation later.

Your father and I shall be back next week to help celebrate your birthday.

Please take better care of it this time.

With love, your mother
Twilight Velvet

P.S. No need to thank me.

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

To Spike’s credit, it was less than an hour later when the rest of her five friends showed up at the train station freight dock to see Princess Twilight Sparkle sitting on her rump and looking over the huge monolithic box like it was some sort of ancient monument to immobility. The top had been removed from the crate and was sitting to one side, so Rainbow Dash’s somewhat parabolic approach gained a slight detour as she peeked over the edge and let out a low whistle.

“Wow, Twilight. Somepony sent you a piano.”

“I know.” Twilight did not move.

Fluttershy flew up beside Rainbow and took a look for herself. “It looks familiar.”

“Yes. Yes, it does.” Twilight did move this time, but only enough to float the note over to Spike, who read it out loud for the rest of her friends.

“Seems a mite creepy for your mom to buy another piano for you there, Twi,” said Applejack while inspecting the crate. “Shipped it all the way from Fillydelphia too. Mezhinsky LLC Restoration.”

“Twilight, dear,” said Rarity with just the slightest twinge of nervousness, “Why would your mother be sending you a piano from a restoration facility? I mean, Mezhinsky does do excellent museum-quality work, but wouldn’t she be better off buying a new—”

“It’s that piano.”

A number of nearby small crates glowed blue as Rarity formed an impromptu staircase out of them, trotting up to the top of the giant crate to look down at the contents. After a lengthy inspection, she turned to Twilight and swallowed. “They… got the scratch out too.”

“I don’t get it,” said Pinkie Pie, hopping up the stack of crates to stand beside Rarity and get her own look. “You’re acting like this is some sort of monster that has come back from the grave to stalk through Ponyville committing senseless act of violins. It’s just a piano. They’re fun!”

“Pinkie Pie,” began Rarity in a soft voice, “do you remember the piano that we moved from Twilight’s old apartment in Canterlot?”

“Oh, do I ever! That thing was a monster, as big as this one, and just the same shade of black, only that one kind of slipped off the edge of the balcony when we were moving it and smashed to pieces on the ground below, only pieces is a little misleading because some of them were itty bitty and some were biggie wiggie, and both you and Twilight swept up all of the evidence, I mean pieces, and put them all in this really big box except for the really big chunk that Rainbow had to kick a couple times to make it fit on the back of a wagon and then you sealed it up with a bunch of spells and Twilight said she was taking it away to a super secret place where it wouldn’t be bothered for ever and ever and ever and — Oh, look! There’s a note.” Pinkie Pie dove into the crate and emerged with several pages of paper, which Rarity took from her and began to read through.

“It’s a receipt from the restoration company, Twilight.” Rarity coughed as she reached the last page. “Quite a substantial amount, I might add. They certainly did a thorough job.”

“I know.” The magenta glow of Twilight’s magic surrounded the crate before seeming just to slip to one side and compress to a small glow, which winked out with a faint pop. “They even updated the security spell.”

The group considered Twilight’s immobility for a while until Rarity asked the question they all were thinking. “Didn’t you say the remains of the piano were going to a place that not even your mother could find, Twilight?”

“I thought they were,” said Twilight Sparkle with a groan. “I put the wagon in the top level of Tartarus, chained to a post. Mom must have accidently let Cerebus loose when she dragged it back out. She was always letting the dog out the back door by accident at home. I knew I should have checked the pieces for a tracking spell first.”

“Hay, no problem,” said Rainbow Dash. “After this one meets an untimely accident, you do it again, only better. All we need to do is push it out on the railroad tracks and…”

The concept of ‘inertia’ was just a theoretical bother to Rainbow, but even she could estimate the rough mass of the sizable crate and consider just what would happen to a populated train when the two objects met at any reasonable speed.

“I mean we can drop it off…” One thing that defined Ponyville fairly well was the word ‘flat’ and in order to drop a piano down, one first had to lift it up. There was always Mare Do Well Cliff, but a substantial padded structure had been constructed across it since the last seventeen near-disasters.

“No,” said Twilight, getting to her hooves and glaring at the huge crate as if it were attempting to take over the world. “I’m a Princess of Equestria now. This piano is my responsibility. I’ll move it to the castle by myself.” Twilight Sparkle trotted around the back side of the crate while five uncomfortable ponies and one dragon exchanged glances. The noise of a small straining alicorn could be heard, along with some panting and possibly one small curse, but the crate remained without a single twitch of movement.

“Rarity, you distract her,” whispered Rainbow Dash, “while I get Snowflake and the rest of the weather team. If she’s really determined to keep the stupid piano, we can have it airlifted to the castle in a few minutes. If not—” Rainbow shrugged “—we’ll make a detour by Ghastly Gorge.”

“Almost got it,” grunted Twilight from behind the oversized crate. “Just a little more.”

“While I’m certain Twilight would appreciate the help, Rainbow Dash, I’m afraid that’s not an option.” Rarity held up the invoice from the refurbishing company and pointed to a line.

“Included security enchantments. An anti-pegasi lifting charm?”

Spike tapped the crate with one claw. “Looks a little flammable. Oh, you can’t be serious,” he added when Rarity floated the invoice over to him and flipped the page. “Fireproof too?”

“This is easier than I thought,” called out Twilight from behind the immobile crate. “Tell me when I’m getting close to the castle.”

“Maybe we could have the guards move the piano,” whispered Fluttershy.

Rarity shook her head. “I’m sorry, darling, but the Royal Guard, guards. They’re not a moving service.”

“I know! I know!” shouted Pinkie Pie in a series of high hops. “We can get Big Mac and Caramel and all of the town’s hunky stallions to lift it up and carry it up to the castle in a big parade! And we can have tubas and drums and—”

“Pinkie!” shouted Twilight, still concealed by the huge crate. “This is my responsibility. I’m Princess Twilight Sparkle, and I’ve faced Nightmare Moon, and Discord, and King Sombra, and even bucking Tirek, and I will not be defeated by a piano!” Leaves from nearby trees swirled in the roar of her voice, the ground shook, and Twilight flung herself against the crate with all of her strength.

It might possibly have moved, if somepony had been holding a micrometer to the crate and measuring very carefully at that moment.

“Maybe if we dropped something on it,” said Rainbow Dash in the resulting silence, hovering up in the air while holding her hooves in front of her as if she were measuring the crate. “It would have to be really big, like…” She trailed off at the looks she was getting from the rest of the group and quickly landed. “Right.”

“Hey look,” said Pinkie. “There’s a pin sticking out of the crate here. What happens if you pull—” There was an explosive bang, and all four walls of the crate fell flat, causing all of the ponies to run for cover and a brief tugging afterwards to extract one slightly-flatter dragon. Revealed in the morning light was the piano in question, still festooned in bubble wrap and protective paper bumpers, but most definitely the same Early Depression Recovery piano they had all last seen at Twilight’s apartment in Canterlot, although at that point it had suffered considerable structural damage from a rather dramatic drop of several stories and an abrupt stop at the bottom. One of the griffon-clawed feet had actually managed to fly almost a hundred trots on impact and the discrete little nameplate that had proclaimed the name of Steingraeber & Söhne as if it were some magic talisman against the ages had almost been twisted into a circle.

Now the nameplate winked in the sunlight, glossed to a perfect shine along with the rest of the Black Ironwood body from the pristine clawed feet to the mirror-like lid in the kind of perfect condition you could only get in a musical instrument by giving slightly more bits than the Equestrian Gross Domestic Product to small elderly ponies with Germane accents who wore enormously thick glasses. There was even a discretely thick lesson book plastic-wrapped to the music stand with another note sticking out of it.

“I think it’s watching us,” whispered Fluttershy while trying to hide behind Rainbow Dash.

“You don’t think it could be… angry due to our previous mistreatment?” asked Rarity.

Applejack scoffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s just a durned piano.” She moved to pick up the note and hesitated, stepping back outside the theoretical reach of a predator. “Dash, can you get that?”

“Me?” Rainbow Dash polished one hoof against her chest before zipping the short distance to the lesson book, grabbing the note in her mouth and retreating to the safety of the herd in one swift motion. “Nothing to it.” After a quick glance at the immobile piano, she hoofed the note over to Rarity and called out, “Twilight, it came with a card.”

“Ooo, it’s a birthday card!” shouted Pinkie as she bounced around the piano, picking up Twilight Sparkle from behind the crate and bringing her over to the rest of her friends. “Open it! Open it! Oh, wait!” She came to a skidding halt and held her hooves over Twilight’s eyes. “We already opened it! Your birthday surprise is all ruined! Well, it was ruined until the piano repair company put all the pieces back together, but now it’s ruined because I opened your present before we could even get the cake and the punch and the pinata—”

Rainbow Dash mused, “I suppose if we were to fill it with candy and winch it up into a tree…”

“Pinkie!” The pink party pony stopped talking, although it was mostly from the magenta zipper that had appeared over her muzzle. “It’s fine,” said Twilight. “I’m not angry at you. I’m not angry at the piano. It’s mom.”

Pinkie gasped once the gag was removed. “Your mother is in the piano? Hang on, Missus Velvet! We’ll get you out of there. Let me go get my axe.”

“No!” Twilight applied her right forehoof to her forehead. “The piano is a symbol.”

“I don’t know, Twilight,” said Pinkie, looking at the dark piano with a critical pout. “I know my musical instruments, and a cymbal is a big metal disk that you smash into another big metal—”

“NO! I mean… Just give me the card.” Twilight took the card from Rarity and read it out loud.

Happy Birthday, Princess Twilight Sparkle
From your loving parents, Twilight Velvet and Night Light

May this symbol of our love be cherished in your heart as a memory of all of your family throughout your rule. And someday when you have a foal of your own, you can pass it down to her, as I received it from my mother, and her from your great-grandmother, and so on.

P.S. I included an introductory learner’s manual for the times when you are not busy with princess things and wish to improve your skills. There is also a nice young stallion named Noteworthy in town who said he would be honored to provide lessons at your convenience.

“That was… interesting,” said Rarity once Twilight had finished reading the note. “I do hope your mother realizes Noteworthy is married.”

“Is he a symbol too?” asked Pinkie Pie. “Because I always pictured him as more of a tuba instead of a piano.”

“No, Pinkie. Look.” Twilight pulled a chalkboard over in front of the piano and began to draw. “This is my mother—”

There was a muffled noise that could possible have been the question “So your mother is a chalkboard now?” if not for the presence of several hooves in Pinkie Pie’s mouth.

“—and this is me, and this is the piano. My mother loves me very much, but sometimes she finds it difficult to express, so she tends to show her love by driving our family nuts! I mean showing her love by way of physical things, such as Shining Armor’s flugelhorn lessons, or my father’s vast collection of ties, or in my case, a piano. I’ve tried to tell her that her love is just fine without having to be filtered through a noun of any kind, but she is the most stubborn pony in the world, and won’t listen to me!”

“Hang on there, sugarcube.” Applejack tapped the chalkboard under the drawing of Twilight Velvet. “Ah met your mother during the wedding, and she was the sweetest thing ever.”

“You didn’t have to deal with her outfit,” said Rarity with a toss of her mane. “She insisted on wearing that dreadful thing to the wedding, and I was completely unable to convince her otherwise.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” said Rainbow Dash. “I mean I’m pretty awesome that way too. How bad could she be?”

Rarity sniffed. “Just look in the mirror, and multiply by ten.”

“Hey, unfair! No math!”

“Anyway,” said Twilight, tapping the chalkboard with a pointer, “when the piano was destroyed, I had hoped that she would become more open to expressing her feelings without some object to focus them through. I was afraid for a while she might decide to focus on grandfoals, but that’s always been her goal after I finished mastering the piano.”

“So yer afraid if we destroy the piano again, she’ll start trying to set you up with a stallion?” asked Applejack. “Seems a bit far-fetched.”

“No.” Twilight drew a heart around the piano on the chalkboard. “I felt so guilty after hiding the broken piano in Tartarus. At first I thought it was just because of the air in that place, but after a while I realized how much that piano means to her. When grandmother died, all of her sisters were a little resentful that mom wound up with the piano, and everytime one of my aunts visited us at home, they would always ask how I was getting along with my lessons and remark about how lucky I was to have the opportunity that their children didn’t. The thing is, all of my little cousins don’t want the piano either, so I can’t give it to one of them without hurting my mother and another relative.”

Rarity cleared her throat. “I must admit, I did mention the possibility of piano lessons to my dear sister once. It seems to be the only cutie mark opportunity that has caused her to flee in terror.”

Twilight nodded while drawing idle circles around the piano figure. “My mother has sacrificed so much for me, and she only wants me to be happy, so why does it drive me so crazy sometimes? It’s like everything she’s ever done for me is a piano key, and all she wants is for me to play them back for her. Would that be so hard?”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” said Fluttershy. “You could avoid conflict by—”

“But that’s always how it starts with her,” huffed Twilight, smacking the chalkboard with her pointer. “We’ve been through this countless times before. She’ll just keep going, like she did when I was home from school for two weeks around Hearth’s Warming one year. ‘Just one lesson’ turned into ‘You did so well yesterday’ and ‘I thought since you were on a roll, we could just bring Mrs. Keys back for the rest of this week.’ By the time break was over, I had learned the practice piece well enough it was scaring me. I probably can even still play it.”

Twilight moved over to the piano, lurking dark in the afternoon sunlight, and tugged the bench around before laying down. With two hooves under the keyboard to manipulate the octave shifts and two above, she took a deep, shuddering breath and began to play. It was simple student practice music, something by Baahms or Bleathoven, but the air around the train loading dock seemed to shimmer with the notes right up until a series of flat thuds ended the piece.

“What the hay?” Applejack lifted the lid and — after a moment of hesitation and double-checking to ensure it was well propped up — stuck her head inside the piano for a better look. “Ain’t even had it out of the box for a couple minutes, and it’s already broke. Rares, come help me with this. Something’s stuck in here.” With Rarity’s help, the two of them soon extracted a thick piece of cardstock and gave it to Twilight to read.

To my daughter, Twilight Sparkle.
I just wanted you to know I had nothing to do with this.
All my love,
Your father
Night Light

“Can’t yer father talk some sense into her,” said Applejack. “Seems like a right practical feller.”

“Sensible enough not to to poke mom’s buttons,” said Twilight, using her magic to unfold the card and float it back over to Applejack. “Mom had a few hundred of those printed up when she first got the piano. Dad uses them for scratch paper and notes.”

Applejack read out loud, “You are cordially invited to a piano recital by our daughter, Twilight Sparkle, featuring the works of Reinbits. Heck, Twi. She can’t possibly think after all these years you’re gonna put on a recital with this thing?”

Rainbow Dash flew over to read over Applejack’s shoulder. “Yeah, she’d need to print new cards with your title.”

“Not helpin’, RD.”

“Sorry. But she’d be Equestria’s only piano-playing Princess. Wouldn't that be cool?”

“Still not helpin’, RD.”

Twilight scowled and sat down. “It makes me wish I had brought the piano back from Canterlot and put it in the library in the first place. It’s what my mother wanted me to do, and if I had, it would have been destroyed along with the rest of my stuff. I would have finally been rid of it.”

“Shucks, Sugarcube. You make it sound like that old dusty library was something you wanted destroyed.”

“I wanted to keep the library. I never wanted the piano back.” Twilight sniffed and touched the dark wood of the instrument with one hoof. “It’s always been a source of conflict in our family ever since my grandmother died. That’s probably why my mother had it moved to my apartment in the Archives when I was Celestia’s student, because otherwise one of my aunts would have been asking about it.”

A shudder traveled up and down Twilight’s back. “It was like one of those horror movies where you think the killer is dead, and the young college student goes back to her safe and secure home only to find him lurking in the shadows. I thought Mom had given up on Reinbits, and was willing to accept me as her magic-studying daughter instead of a piano-playing daughter.

“I don’t know how the thing became a symbol between the two of us. I love magic, and I love my mother, but sometimes I think she’s trying to live out her childhood again in me.”

Twilight made a face. “Reinbits. It always comes down to Reinbits.”

Rainbow Dash blew a raspberry. “Yeah, whenever I go home my mom keeps dragging out these frilly outfits and makes me try them on. Says I should dress in style, well, no thanks!”

“My mother wanted me to go into politics,” whispered Fluttershy.

“Well, my ma always wanted me to stick with the farm,” snorted Applejack, “and I don’t see no problems with that. Yer a Princess of Equestria, Twilight. You ought to be able to say ‘I don’t want this piano’ to your mother and have it stick. Ah mean she musta thought you might not want it, putin’ it out here on the freight dock and all instead of taking it straight to the castle.”

“Oh, no, no, no!” said Rarity. “Why, Twilight is a princess now. You simply do not just move things directly into a princess’ house, particularly gifts. Twilight, do tell dear Applejack how Princess Celestia recieves gifts.”

Shaking herself out of her depression, Twilight said, “It depends on the importance of the pony or the diplomat. When she is presented with a valuable gift in an official ceremony, she voices her appreciation of the gift and places it where everypony else can look at it and appreciate it. Then over a number of years as everypony forgets about it, the display gets farther and farther into the background until it is cataloged for the Archives, where it is stored. We used to catalog dozens of the rarest and most precious volumes a week when I worked there, and that was just books. She has received jewelry, statues and all kinds of things all the way back to the founding of Equestria.”

“And it’s all stored in the Archives?” asked Spike with a gleam in his eyes. “Do you think Princess Celestia would let me make my den there when I grow up, Twilight?”

Despite herself, Twilight giggled along with the rest of her friends. “You’ll have to ask her yourself, Spike. That’s something that I can’t answer on my own.”

“Wait a minute,” said Spike. “Maybe Princess Celestia can help you with this, Twilight. What does she say whenever you have problems?”

“She say to identify the problem, come up with as many options to solve the problem as possible, decide on one of them, and take decisive action.” Twilight Sparkle stood up and faced her friends while Rainbow Dash fluttered down and took a seat with a clash of discordant notes.

“I think we have the problem figured out, Twi. It’s this huge hunk of wood.” She pressed a couple of keys with one hoof and ran down the scales in one quick motion. “And our options are either move it or destroy it.”

“Rainbow Dash!” Rarity scurried over and picked up the pegasus in her magic, sitting her down firmly on the piano bench before brushing off the spot where she had been sitting. “Twilight’s mother has put a great deal of work into making sure this priceless piece of… well, this horribly expensive piece of history…” She stopped and took a delicate, lady-like breath. “It may be ugly, but it’s historical. I for one do not think it should be destroyed. Unless we have to. Again.”

“That leaves moving it somewhere,” said Pinkie Pie. “Ooo, I know. How about Sugarcube Corner!” Six friends considered the possibility of Pinkie Pie with a piano and six heads shook. There was probably some law in the Equestrian Defense Budget against it anyway.

“Any other volunteers?” asked Rainbow. “I’d volunteer my house, but getting it up there and keeping it up there might be a problem. Besides, I think Twilight’s mother would still track it down.”

“Ah think she’s gonna find that durned thing no matter where we put it, Rainbow,” said Applejack. “It’s got too much family history to destroy again and ain’t no place in Equestria we can hide it, so that don’t leave many options.”

“No place in Equestria. That’s it,” said Twilight, perking up and grabbing her friends for a huge hug. “That’s perfect! I should have known to ask my friends before I got all twisted up over this. I’m not just a princess of myself, we’re the Elements of Harmony together, the best friends, ever!”

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

Dear Mom,
I just wanted to tell you that we found a place for the piano where everypony will be able to admire it. It took a little work, but I’m very happy with its placement, and I don’t think you will need to worry about it being damaged or stolen any more. It just goes to show that with the help of your friends, anything is possible.

When you and dad come to Ponyville for my birthday, I want to sit down and have a nice mother-princess talk. I think there’s been something between us for a long while, and now that it’s out of the way, I believe we can finally connect.

Your loving daughter
Princess Twilight Sparkle

P.S. Thank you.

P.P.S. Noteworthy is married.

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

The nightly ritual of dusk and dawn had taken on an informal air as the Royal Sisters had become reacquainted with each other after having spent such a long time apart. Sometimes Celestia would bring cake, or doughnuts still sizzling fresh from Pony Joe’s shop, along with a steaming hot cup of coffee and the evening newspaper to greet her groggy and affectionate sibling, while Luna delighted in sweeping in through her sister’s open window with tales of her nighttime exploits and a quick morning snuggle before the sun would replace her tired moon.

This evening, Celestia had opted for a simple cup of black coffee with several sugar cubes lurking beneath the obsidian surface for her sister, along with two pastries from the kitchen. It had been a very long day, filled with endless meetings to calm the roiled nerves that Tirek had left behind, and she was looking forward to as many dreamless hours of sleep as possible before the dawn. After rooting her drowsy sister out of bed and preventing three separate ‘just five more minutes’ attempts, the two sisters took a moment out on the balcony to carry out their Royal Duty. The sun sank below the horizon without a single complaint, but the rising of the moon brought a new problem to Celestia’s mind, one which would require a great amount of thought that she just did not want to deal with at this time.

The two princesses regarded the night sky in silent contemplation for several minutes before Princess Celestia gave Luna a kiss on the cheek and turned for bed. “Good night, Luna.”

Luna huffed in response, and pointed with a hoof. “Dearest sister, she is thy student.”

“Not any more,” said Celestia, not stopping her graceful stride for the door and the destination of her own warm bed. “She is a true Princess of Equestria, and as such, is fully responsible for her own actions. Plus, this is your domain.”

“But… She’s touching my stuff, Celly!” Getting no response from her sister other than an exaggerated yawn, Luna stepped to the edge of the balcony and spread her wings. It was a beautiful night for flying, and she had a very specific question that needed answered in Ponyville.

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

The quiet night breeze blowing through Twilight Sparkle’s bedroom window brought a visitor she had begun to expect as Princess Luna wafted into the bedroom and fixed the young princess with a firm but determined gaze.

“Princess Twilight Sparkle, why hath thou banished a piano onto my moon?”

Image Credit to Park Background by mandydax plus a few Inkscape tweaks.