Tales of Canterlot Castle

by The Ponopticon

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Luna, Original Character, Comedy, Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 15981

A series of short, semi-connected stories from the lives of the inhabitants of Canterlot Castle. Also giant spiders.

The ups and downs of pet ownership! The trials and tribulations of semi-competent royal assistants! Giant pumpkins, and the inadvertent weaponisation thereof! The creeping horrors of Princessball! All this and more, with a healthy dose of sisterly one-up-mareship!

Expect various odds and ends from the very strange place at the heart of the very strange world of Equestria.

Aside from the occasional multi-parter, each chapter will be a separate story loosely connected to the others and very loosely connected to ongoing official canon.

If you dare to know what two ambiguously immortal god-princesses do with their spare time, read on, brave reader, read on!

[With apologies to alextooth for the cover art. Rated Teen just in case my odd sense of humour dips a bit too far into the racy.]

Published 2014-01-11 18:30:13 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-15 14:20:41 UTC

Mister Tickles' Day Out

-A Tale of Canterlot Castle-

-Mister Tickles’ Day Out-

Princess Luna was in her study again. It was something of a joke amongst the serving staff that they would have to start calling it her bedroom since she slept there so often, typically passed out over a book. This struck Luna as rather odd—surely, as the room in which her bed was found, her actual bedroom would still count as a “bed room” no matter where she slept. She could understand possibly changing the name of the study to the “sleeping room,” but even that seemed inappropriate as she still used it primarily for reading and study, so…

Luna was interrupted in her pondering by a small but sustained creak. She looked up from her copy of The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poeny, from which her mind had drifted in any case, and cast about for the source of the sound. The big Prench doors leading from her study to a pleasant little balcony were propped open to let in the light evening breeze, but they were firmly secured and so could not have been the source of the creak. The princess shifted her gaze across the room to the next most likely culprit, and indeed the interior door to the castle hallway had been left slightly ajar. Even as Luna watched, the door moved almost imperceptibly in the breeze, emitting a quiet creak.

Hmm… The door was likely left open by one of the maids, most probably to allow for the better ventilation of a through-breeze, Luna thought. She struck a triumphant pose. Mystery solved! Yet another successful case for C. Auguste Lupina!

Luna chuckled to herself. “Mayhap I have been reading too much of Poeny’s detective stories,” she admitted ruefully. “Dost thou think so, Mister Tickles?” the princess added as she turned to address her new pet.

Luna had found Mister Tickles wandering around in a dark corner of the castle earlier that week and had immediately taken the creature in. She had always been somewhat jealous of her sister’s phoenix, Philomena, so it had become something of a habit of hers to bring home whatever animals she happened across; her long association with the bats that patrolled the skies around the castle at night had started with her caring for a lost, injured bat in this way, so despite Celestia’s occasional objections Luna considered it to be a good habit on the whole.

But when Luna turned to see Mister Tickles’ reaction she found his basket empty. Her brow creased as the first hints of concern began to mar her otherwise good mood.

“Mister Tickles? Art thou there?”

Luna looked all over her study, but there was no sign of her pet anywhere. She glanced at the open balcony doors.

No, Mister Tickles knows better than to go outside without me, Luna thought. Then her eyes widened, her irises narrowing to pinpricks, as a horrible idea occurred to her.

The door to the castle was left open…and nopony knows about Mister Tickles yet, not even Celestia, and Celestia HATES…

Luna shook her head roughly to clear her negative thoughts.

“No, I must not panic!” the princess declared aloud. “I will find Mister Tickles before anything bad happens! I shall just treat this as though it were one of Poeny’s detective stories and…”

Luna was interrupted by a shriek from the hallway. Her ears perked up and she grinned.

“Aha! A clue!”

OOO

Luna found the source of the scream, a young maid, in one of the corridors near her study. The filly was visibly shaken; her eyes were still wide with fright and she had dropped the silver tea service she had been carrying. Hot water and slightly dented teacups littered the floor around her—it was for precisely these types of emergencies that most of the royal tea sets had been commissioned to be durable and preferably metallic. Luna had heard that the kitchens actually kept a silversmith on permanent retainer to pound the castle’s many teacups, saucers, and kettles back into shape.

“Which way did he go?” the princess asked the frightened filly.

The maid pointed a shaking hoof down the hall and Luna set off, her pace just short of a full gallop. She paused for only the merest moment at a T-junction before she heard another scream nearby. The alicorn raced towards it, finding another maid who was, if anything, in even worse condition than the first one.

“Which way?” Luna demanded, but was answered with nothing more than incoherent babbling and gesticulation. Fortunately the princess was spared attempting to translate as a third shriek sounded from around the nearest corner and she once again took off at a run.

Rounding the corner, Luna had to pause for a second to take in the scene fully: rather than another unfortunate maid, the only ponies in this particular section of corridor were a pair of Royal Guards, one of which was stamping his hooves in a mad little dance of sheer panic while the other looked on wryly. Before Luna could even begin to hope that the sound hadn’t come from the panicking Guard he let out another shriek, even more high-pitched and effeminate than before.

“EEEEEEeeeEEEEeEEEEK! GetitawaygetitawayGETITAWAY!”

Luna sighed. “Just tell us which way he went.”

“‘He’, your Highness?” the still-coherent Guard asked, cocking an eyebrow questioningly. When the princess simply continued staring irritably at him he cleared his throat. “Ahem, I mean, ‘he’ went that way, Highness.” The white pegasus thought for a moment before adding: “And I’d just like to say that I’ve never met this stallion before in my life, your Majesty.”

Luna groaned, but suppressed her urge to chastise the two Guards and set off once again in pursuit of her escaped pet. Behind her, she heard something that sounded suspiciously like a wing smacking the back side of a helmet and the calmer Guard’s voice saying “Come on, dude, you’re making us look bad.”

Ponies these days certainly seem rather more…high-strung than they were a thousand years ago, Luna thought with a sardonic smile as she ran. There were no further screams to guide her this time, so the princess was running more or less blindly. Mister Tickles must have finally decided to get out of sight—that’s either a good thing or very, very…

Luna’s thought process halted abruptly when she heard her sister’s voice from one of the many rooms lining the corridor. Quickly identifying the room as Celestia’s solarium, Luna halted her forward momentum just as abruptly as her thoughts, her hooves skidding to a stop on the stone floor.

Oh, that would be the absolute WORST place he could go, she thought, chewing her lower lip with worry. So with my luck, that will be exactly where he will be.

As Luna approached the partially-closed door to the solarium she could hear the duller sounds of other voices underneath the elder princess’s clear, melodious tones, and as the indigo alicorn nosed open the door she could see a small cluster of scribes and other bureaucrats surrounding her sister’s much larger form. As Celestia dismissed the last of the hangers-on she looked up and her expression brightened as her eyes settled on Luna.

“Luna! I wasn’t expecting to see you this early in the evening,” Celestia said, clearly cheered by her younger sister’s presence after a long day of dealing with the stresses and petty politicking involved in managing Equestria. “I was just going to lower the sun in a half-hour or so—would you care to join me?”

“Oh, um, yes, of course, dear sister,” Luna replied distractedly as her eyes searched the solarium for any indication of her pet’s presence. Celestia frowned slightly.

“Why Luna, is something wrong? You seem worried about something.”

“What? Me, worried? No! No, everything is perfectly…” Luna began but stopped as a mare she recognised as the castle’s head maid silently approached Celestia and whispered something in the white alicorn’s ear before leaving just as silently as she had come. The elder princess’s expression shifted to a delicate mix of exasperation, disappointment, and bemusement.

“Luna,” Celestia said flatly, “you’ve brought another of your strange ‘pets’ into the castle again, haven’t you?”

“Um, well, that is to say…”

Celestia sighed. “What is it this time? A rat? Another snake?”

“I, uhh…” Luna offered lamely, but then something caught her attention and her mouth dropped open in shock.

“I tolerate the bats because they mostly keep to themselves and I understand that you use them to carry information—although they never once deigned to speak to me even during your, ahem, absence—but some of these creatures you bring home are downright dangerous, Luna. Need I remind you of the cockatrice incident?”

But Luna was no longer listening; she was staring at a point several feet above Celestia with mute horror.

“It took almost a week to turn everypony back,” Celestia continued. “It took the guards three whole days before they realised the gardener wasn’t just another part of the statuary, and… Luna, are you even paying attention?”

Suddenly, Luna leapt forward. “Mister Tickles, NO!” she shouted.

“Who’s Mister Ti…?”

Celestia stopped as she felt something land on her back. Time seemed to slow as she turned her head, Luna still in mid-leap trying desperately to prevent the inevitable.

And then Celestia was face to face with it. It was the largest, hairiest spider she had ever seen, its body like two grapefruit stuck together, and it was sitting almost nonchalantly on her back. It chittered cheerfully and rearranged its mandibles into something approaching a grin. Celestia’s eyes widened, then glowed white.

OOO

The dull thump of the magical explosion could be heard as far away as Ponyville, and the resulting cloud of dust from the castle nearly obscured the setting sun. Miles from Canterlot, a blue unicorn wearing a purple hat and cape stared with disbelief at the large chunk of familiar white marble that had crushed the garishly coloured cart she had been pulling.

“HOW DARE YOU ASSAULT THE GRREAT AND POWERFUL TRRRRIXIE IN THIS WAY!” the unicorn screeched, remembering to roll her ‘R’s dramatically even in her indignant rage. She turned and shook a hoof menacingly in the direction of Canterlot Castle, just visible in the distance. “CURSE YOU, CELESTIA! YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS AFFRONT, SO-CALLED PRINCESS OF EQUESTRIA!”

Celestia hated spiders.

OOO

Princess Celestia’s laboured breathing was just beginning to slow down when Luna managed to pry herself out from under the rubble, Mister Tickles plastered across her face. His eight beady little eyes somehow managed to spin dizzily.

“Um, Celestia? Big sister?” Luna said hesitantly as she peeled her pet off and approached the still heaving older alicorn.

“Sp…spider…”

“Um…yes.”

“BIG spider!”

“Yes.”

“Mister Tickles is a big spider!” Celestia finally blurted, apparently capable of uttering full sentences again.

“I was going to tell thee about him, I swear! Please, do not be angry with him!” Luna pleaded. “Thou art not going to make me get rid of him, art thou?”

Celestia only stared at her younger sister, her eyes still twitching.

“Oh, please let me keep him, sister!” Luna nearly begged. She held Mister Tickles up and the immense spider again gave Celestia a winning mandibular grin. “How couldst thou say no to this cute little face?”

Celestia groaned and ran a hoof over her face.

“Fine, keep him,” she said grudgingly. “But I don’t want to see the little monster anywhere around the castle without your supervision, understand?”

“Didst thou hear that, Mister Tickles? Thou canst stay! Huzzah!” Luna cried, picking up the spider in both front hooves and swinging him around gaily before setting him down on her head and moving to embrace Celestia. “Oh, many, many, a thousand times many thanks, dear sister!”

“Wait, wait, Luna!” Celestia shouted in a panic. “Don’t hug me! Spider on your head! Spider on your…!”

OOO

The blue unicorn tore her gaze from the second, smaller cloud of dust that had puffed from the side of Canterlot Castle and turned to stare dumbly at where her hat was lodged halfway through a nearby oak tree after it had been swept from her head by another piece of marble. This piece had not been nearly as large as the first chunk was but it had been moving at a far more alarming velocity. She turned stiffly back to the castle in the distance.

“THE MEEK AND HUMBLE TRIXIE APOLOGIZES FOR HER EARLIER THREATS!” the unicorn shouted, pointedly leaving out the rolled ‘R’s this time. “LONG LIVE PRINCESS CELESTIA!”

And with that, she galloped off as fast as she could while dragging what was left of her pulverized cart. She didn’t even stop to retrieve her hat.

-FIN-

Author's Note

Well, I'm finally tired of sitting on this and re-editing it over and over again, so I shall subject you all to it.

Decided to go with the indented paragraphs instead of extra space between. Bit easier for me.

Luna Gets an Assistant

-A Tale of Canterlot Castle-

-Luna Gets an Assistant-

OR

The Assistening!

“We—pardon me—I must say, your credentials are very impressive,” Luna said as she glanced over her slim reading glasses at the young steel-grey unicorn mare sitting across from her before returning to the résumé that sat on her desk. “You graduated summa cum laude from Trottingham University’s political science department…”

“I usually prefer not to say summa cum laude, your Majesty,” the mare interjected. “Too many dirty jokes.”

“What do you mean?”

“Uh… Nothing, Majesty.” The mare stared fixedly at the surface of the desk, one of her hooves nervously toying with her dark mane.

“Hm.” Luna made a mental note to look into what a ‘dirty joke’ was and continued reading. “It says here that you interned for two years at the Equestrian embassy in the Griffon Kingdoms—how did you find the griffons?”

“I mostly just followed the shouting, your Majesty.”

“I see. Not quite what I meant, but I suppose that would work,” Luna mused before turning the page to continue. “Then you spent the last year-and-a-half as a—let me see if I’ve got this right—‘consulting graphologist’ to Lord Pennybottom in Hoofington.”

“He was having some trouble with his hornwriting, your Majesty.”

“Ah.” Luna turned back and rescanned the first page of the young mare’s résumé. “And you’ve somehow managed to stretch these three things over two whole pages,” she said under her breath. The unicorn’s pale green eyes snapped up from whatever had been so engrossing on Luna’s desk.

“I beg your pardon, your Majesty?”

Luna looked up with a questioning look on her face. “Why? Have you committed a crime?”

“Um… Nnnno,” the grey mare said hesitantly. “I mean, I don’t think so.”

“Hm. Well, in any case, I think you’re definitely the right pony for the job,” Luna announced as she straightened the résumé and pushed it aside before continuing in a low voice. “Especially since you’re the only applicant.”

“What?”

Luna coughed politely to cover her mistake. “I just need one more piece of information from you, if you wouldn’t mind,” she said, making judicious use of her royal privilege to pony-handle a conversation in any direction she felt like.

“Of course, your Majesty!” the unicorn mare gushed excitedly, finally realising that she was getting the job. “Anything you need!”

Luna looked the young mare straight in the eyes. “Now, this is of the utmost importance,” she said, her tone deathly serious. “I need you to answer me perfectly truthfully, as your employment now hinges entirely upon your answer to this one question.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” the mare said with an anxious gulp.

“What is your name? It’s not on your résumé.”

There was a moment of silence. Luna waited expectantly as the young mare turned this piece of information over in her head.

“It’s not?”

“No.”

“Not even up in the corner?”

“Not as such, no.”

“You’re sure?”

“Quite sure.”

“Hm.” The mare looked thoughtful. “That would explain why I’ve never gotten any responses to any of the other résumés I’ve sent out.”

Luna cleared her throat as a not-so-subtle reminder that she was still awaiting an answer. The young mare nearly jumped out of her seat.

“Right! Sorry!” the unicorn cried. “It’s Flora! Flora Civilia!”

Luna set her glasses down as she stood up and circled the desk until she was directly next to Flora. She drew herself up into her best ‘regal’ pose as Flora also stood, the grey mare sensing that something of import was about to be said.

“Well then, Flora Civilia,” Luna declared, not quite in the Royal Canterlot Voice but still with rather more force and projection than most ponies used when speaking. “We hereby name thee the first Royal Assistant to the Princess of the Night.”

OOO

“I’m still not entirely sure what I’m supposed to be doing, your Majesty.”

Luna sighed. Flora had been pestering her like this for the last three hours as they toured around the castle. Luna had been able to distract the unicorn by telling her various things about the many rooms and hallways they had passed through, but the long stretch of hallway leading to the royal kitchens was notoriously boring, giving Flora plenty of time to renew her assault.

Why, oh why did I neglect to ask Celestia what royal assistants were for when she suggested I get one? Luna thought.

“Oh, you know, you’ll be doing…assistant-ish things,” she said aloud. “Mostly for me, of course, as you’re my assistant. And what did I tell you about calling me ‘your Majesty’? Call me Luna, or Princess Luna if you must be formal.”

“Ah, right. So, Princess Luna, what exactly counts as ‘assistant-ish,’?” Flora persisted, her pointed emphasis on Luna’s title drawing another sigh from the princess before she answered.

“I assumed you would know,” Luna said, a sly smile breaking across her face. “After all, you are supposed to be assisting me.”

“Flawless logic, Princess.”

“Isn’t it, though?”

“Yes. Quite perfect. Almost exactly like a perfect circle, in fact.”

Luna grumbled—she was beginning to suspect that Flora was capable of nearly Celestia-level snark, and that this may very well have been exactly what Celestia had planned. In retrospect, having only a single applicant to any kind of royal position, even one for the “little” princess, was far too unlikely to not have been arranged.

Wonderful. It will be like having big sister around to irritate me all the time—thanks, ‘Tia, Luna thought irritably. Why did I let her convince me this was a good idea?

Luna was interrupted in her self-deprecating musings by Flora setting out on a new plan of attack just as they reached the door to the kitchens.

“You really have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing, do you, Princess?”

Luna stopped with her hoof on the kitchen door and turned to glare at the grey unicorn mare. Flora immediately froze up, her eyes going wide as she realised what she had just said to her ruler and new employer.

“I’m sorry! That came out wrong!” Flora backpedaled. When Luna just sighed yet again and pushed through the door Flora relaxed and followed the princess into the bustling kitchens.

“Wow! This place is massive!” Flora said as she looked around. A multitude of chefs, sous-chefs, sous-sous-chefs, sauciers, bakers, and other food-related minions rushed about preparing for breakfast, flowing around the Night Princess and her new assistant like water. There was even an honest-to-goodness sandwich artist taking a quick nap in the corner until he had to prepare for lunch. Space was limited, even in such a large room, but the kitchen staff moved around each other effortlessly like parts of a well-oiled machine.

“Yes, the royal kitchens serve the needs of the entire castle, including the many visiting nobles and diplomatic guests as well as my sister and I,” Luna explained. “As you can see, breakfast preparations start well before sunrise, even though many of the nobility staying in the castle are rarely up before ten.”

Awed, all Flora could do was nod in response, but after a few more moments spent basking in the sheer culinary industry of the royal kitchens the young unicorn mustered all her courage and once again restarted her campaign to nail down what her duties would be.

“Princess, what you said earlier about me being your ‘first Royal Assistant’—that ‘first’ isn’t just part of the title, is it? Like being ‘first flute’ in an orchestra?” Flora asked. “Have you really never had an assistant before?”

“Well, when Celestia and I first came to power Equestria was much smaller and easier to manage,” Luna replied. She cast a rueful glance at her assistant. “And then I spent a thousand years on the moon, so…”

“Ah. Yes. That. Um, about that…”

“Asking your new employer about the circumstances of her former banishment on your first day on the job might not be the best choice, my little pony,” said a new voice—warm, motherly, and with just a hint of underlying amusement.

Flora turned, only to nearly get a face full of white. She stumbled backwards and landed on her haunches, a sous-chef carrying two sizzling skillets in his forehooves gracefully pirouetting around her as she fell. As Flora’s eyes stopped spinning they settled on the set of delicately shod hooves in front of her. Her eyes followed the excessively long white legs up, and up, and up…

“Tall,” the young unicorn mumbled, nearly incoherent as her mind raced.

OhmygoshohmygoshohmygoshIt’sPrincessCelestiashe’ssotallshe’sgorgeousandshe’sgotbagsunderhereyes…wait, what?

Princess Celestia yawned delicately (WhattheheckPrincessCelestiaisyawningIdon’teven…) and turned to her younger sister.

“Good morning, Luna,” she said with a smile.

“You’re up rather early today, sister,” the Luna said, suppressing a scowl.

“Oh, well, the sun is due to rise in two hours or so, so I thought I’d get a bit of a head start on the day’s paperwork in the meantime,” Celestia said airily. “Not to mention it gives me the chance to check up on my dear little sister and her new assistant.”

“How kind of you.”

Luna’s voice positively dripped sarcasm but Celestia kept smiling as she turned to fiddle with a small contraption on one of the few unused sections of countertop in the kitchens.

“I take it it’s going well, then?” Celestia asked innocently as the small device burbled and emitted some steam. “Are you giving her the tour?”

“I don’t know how you did it, ‘Tia, but I’m going to get you for this.”

“Why, whatever do you mean, sister of mine?”

“Her!” Luna hissed, jabbing a hoof towards where Flora was still sitting stunned on the floor as the kitchen staff swirled around her with practiced ease. “She’s like a little you.”

“Are you sure you aren’t just imagining things?”

“She’s a snark factory.”

Celestia laughed melodically. “Now I know you’re imagining things, Luna,” she said. “I am not snarky.”

Luna stared at her older sister.

“Well, maybe I’m a little snarky now and then,” Celestia admitted.

Luna’s stare intensified.

“Okay, maybe I’m fairly snarky quite a lot of the time,” Celestia relented.

“You are a snark monster,” Luna stated flatly.

Celestia laughed again, then turned as the little device she had been playing with gave a last burble and spat a dark brown liquid into a small metal cup.

“Only before I’ve had this, dear sister,” the elder princess said, indicating the tiny cup as she surrounded it with her magic and brought it to her lips to take a sip.

Her curiosity piqued, Luna craned her neck to get a better look at the strange liquid.

“What is that?” she asked when simple visual inspection yielded no definite answers.

“Oh, this? It’s called espresso,” Celestia replied. “It’s a relatively recent invention—it’s a kind of coffee.”

Luna’s confused expression did not go away.

“Ah, of course, coffee was introduced while you were still…” Celestia began, then paused to think. “It’s—oh, how to explain this—it’s a hot caffeinated beverage, so you could think of it as being sort of like tea, I suppose.”

“It smells awful,” Luna said.

“Nonsense! I think it smells lovely!” Celestia said. “It is rather on the bitter side, though, so I usually drink it with some milk and sugar. On that note, where are the… ah!”

Having found the milk and sugar, Celestia magically floated a little of each into the small metal cup and took another sip.

“Perfect! Well, I’m off, Luna—paperwork calls!” Celestia said gaily as she turned to make her way out of the kitchens. “I’ll see you and your new assistant around, I’m sure. Good day, Miss Civilia.”

Luna stood and stewed for a moment after Celestia left before finally breaking Flora from her star-struck trance with an unceremonious poke.

“Come on, assistant, let’s go.”

“She knows my name. Princess Celestia knows my name,” Flora breathed. She turned to Luna with a confused expression. “How does Princess Celestia know my name?”

Luna groaned and ran a hoof over her face.

“Never mind that. We’re done in the kitchens, so let’s just go,” the Night Princess said as she turned to make a beeline to the door. Flora followed after her, a beatific but still rather confused smile on her face.

Damn it, ‘Tia, how do you always manage to do that?

OOO

Flora’s stunned silence did not last long. She and Luna had only been in Luna’s study for a few minutes before the unicorn recovered and started in on her old refrain:

“You still haven’t told me what my job will be, Princess.”

Luna sighed and set aside her quill. She had almost hoped that she might actually get some work done; as relaxing as she found her work on the new tax revisions, she knew they wouldn’t be obliging enough to finish themselves. But first she would have to deal with her bothersome new assistant.

“Look, Flora, we’ve already established that I’ve never had an assistant before,” the exasperated Night Princess began. “I don’t actually know what I’ll need you to assist me with, so can’t we just define your job as we go?”

“I really would prefer to have some idea of what I’ll be doing,” Flora replied. “Isn’t there anything you can tell me? Anything specific you think you might need my help with?”

Luna thought for a moment, tapping her chin with a hoof.

“Well, being Princess of the Night has the advantage of not swamping me with meetings, so I likely won’t need you to help organise my schedule,” Luna mused aloud. “I rarely get visitors, too—I mostly just do paperwork all night.”

“I could read and summarise reports for you,” Flora suggested, but Luna shook her head.

“I’m a very fast reader, so unless I suddenly get a massive influx of work I doubt I’ll need help with that,” the princess said. “Even this much is hardly a problem for me to read through.”

Luna waved a hoof to indicate the piles of reports and other various bits of paperwork that were haphazardly strewn about her desktop. A small frown crossed her face.

“It has been getting a bit cluttered of late, though,” Luna thought aloud.

“Oh! I can help with that, then!” Flora brightened as she seized the opportunity. “I could work on a filing system for you to keep things from cluttering up your desk.”

“A filing system?” Luna said as she considered the idea. “That could be very helpful, actually. Organised alphabetically?”

“Naturally. And by year, too, to make future reference easier.”

“Wonderful!”

“It probably won’t even be that difficult,” Flora continued, pacing back and forth with excitement now that she finally had a focus to her job. “The most difficult thing will probably be incorporating your old records into the new filing system—once it’s all set up, though, it’ll be a snap!”

“And it would make my job much easier to have everything neatly organised,” Luna added, starting to get in on the excitement herself.

“Well, my job is to make your job easier, after all,” Flora said cheerily.

Luna’s expression suddenly turned pensive.

“Hmm…make my job easier…” the princess muttered. “Flora, a thought has just occurred to me.”

“Yes, Princess?”

“I like this idea of a new filing system and I wouldn’t want to take too much of your time away from it, but it’s just that I’ve never been terribly good at—oh, what’s that new word ‘Tia uses—ah yes, multitasking, so…”

“Princess Luna, I am here to assist you in any way you require of me,” Flora stated, nearly overflowing with confidence now that she was free of her dread of a completely undefined job. “If there is anything I can do to help you, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“Ah, well, it’s just that Mister Tickles can get so lonely and despondent while I’m working, so I thought that maybe you could take some time to play with him occasionally,” Luna said.

“Um… Who is Mister Tickles?”

“My pet giant spider.”

“Your pet giant…?” Flora began, but stopped when she felt something land on her back. She whipped her head around, coming muzzle to mandible with the largest spider she had ever seen, including during that one March Break she spent in Hosstralia.

Flora did the only sensible thing a pony could do in the situation: she screamed at the top of her lungs and bucked wildly as she vainly tried to dislodge the nightmarish creature clinging to her back.

Mister Tickles, for his part, also did the only sensible thing he could do in the situation: he hung on as tightly as he could while still keeping one of his front legs free to wave a tiny Stetson hat around.

“He does seem to like jumping on ponies’ backs for some reason,” Luna noted distractedly as she continued working on the tax revisions. She frowned thoughtfully. “And I’m not sure where he keeps getting those tiny hats,” said Luna, but then she brightened. “I must say, though, you’re reacting far better than Celestia did.”

“AAAUUAAUGH!! GETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOOOFFFFFF!! IT’S GONNA LAY EGGS IN MY BRAIN!!”

“Oh, don’t be silly! Mister Tickles is male.”

“HOW WOULD YOU KNOW THAT?!”

“Well, he is a ‘Mister.’ And besides,” Luna continued heedlessly, “you’re thinking of wasps. Spiders just paralyse you, wrap you in webbing, and wait until their venom liquefies your insides so they can suck them out of you.”

“THAT IS NOT HELPING!!” Flora shrieked, still bucking for her life. “I KNOW YOU’RE TRYING TO HELP, BUT IT IS NOT WORKING!!”

Luna waved a hoof dismissively, still not lifting her eyes from her paperwork.

“Well, have fun, you two. I have to get this done before I go to sleep for the day,” said the princess.

“AAAAAAUUUUUUUGGHH!!”

Mister Tickles let out a chitter that likely translated as “Yee haw!”

OOO

Luna groaned and thumped her head against the desk. It was now nearly two hours past sunrise and she had still not managed to get more than a few pages into the tax revisions.

Flora looked up from her game of checkers against Mister Tickles, an opportunity he used to rearrange several pieces in his favour.

“Is there something wrong, Princess?”

Luna sighed.

“No, there is nothing wrong, per se,” said the alicorn. “It is just that I cannot seem to focus for some reason.”

“Well,” Flora began, then paused briefly to turn and glare at Mister Tickles after one of his bolder rearrangements made an audible click of game piece against board. The spider grinned his mandibles innocently.

“Hm. Well,” Flora continued, “is there anything in particular on your mind?”

Luna sighed again and ran a hoof over her face to hide her slight blush. “It’s rather embarrassing,” she began hesitantly, “but I find myself unable to stop thinking of that ‘espresso’ of which my sister seems so fond. It intrigues me to the point I cannot seem to focus on my work, I am ashamed to say.”

“Would you like me to get you some?” Flora stood up from the checkers game, abandoning it completely; Mister Tickles kinged himself three times and ate one of Flora’s pieces.

“Oh, could you?” Luna asked, her ears perking up and her eyes bright.

“Of course, Princess,” Flora replied with a slight bow. “I would be glad to do anything that would help you work.” She gave Mister Tickles a brief sidelong glare before adding: “Besides, I think your spider is cheating.”

“Yes, I know, the little rascal,” said Luna. “It’s no wonder that Philomena refuses to play against him anymore.” The princess knitted her brows in thought. “That,” she added, “and I suspect he may be trying to eat her.”

“Well… um…” Flora eyed Mister Tickles a bit more apprehensively. Mister Tickles chittered innocently. “I’ll watch out for that when I’m playing with him,” Flora said. “In any case, how much espresso would you like me to get for you?”

Luna thought for a moment, tapping a hoof on her lower lip. “You might as well just bring the entire device,” she finally declared. “I think that one of those tiny cups Celestia used will hardly satisfy my intrigue.”

Flora saluted in response, more on a whim than anything else, and trotted out the door, hoping like crazy that she remembered the way to the kitchens. Mister Tickles ate another of her checkers pieces.

OOO

“Ladies and gentlestallions, I hereby call this meeting of the Royal Budget Review Council to order,” Princess Celestia said, casting her gaze around her solarium at the gathered nobleponies. “As this is our first meeting for this year’s budget,” she continued, satisfied that she had the nobility’s attention, “I will begin by opening the floor to any new business before carrying on with our itinerary.”

A hoof immediately raised.

“The council recognises Count Ruffle of Ploughshire.”

“Actually, it’s pronounced ‘Plusher,’” the count – a short, stocky, tawny-coated unicorn – corrected in the nasal accent affected by so many of Equestria’s nobility.

“Of course it is,” said Celestia, who had named the small county herself over six hundred years ago and knew damned well that it wasn’t. “Please continue, Count.”

The count drew himself up to his full, utterly unimpressive height. “I move for a recess until we can continue this meeting at a less ghastly hour of the morning,” he declared. There was a chorus of “Seconded!” and “Hear, hear!” from amongst the other nobleponies.

Celestia looked at the clock hanging on the wall. “It is a little past nine o’clock,” she observed, being careful to keep her voice level.

“Exactly my point, your Highness,” Count Ruffle continued. “I’m not sure what possessed you to schedule this meeting at such a beastly hour, but…”

“Might I remind you, Count,” Celestia interrupted, allowing just the slightest edge to creep into her voice, “that I have been up since before daybreak? In fact, as I’m sure you all recall, I am the very reason the sun rose at all.”

Celestia suppressed a grin as every noblepony in the room looked down and shuffled their hooves meekly, as though they had just received a scolding from their mothers. She always felt slightly guilty about treating some of her most prominent subjects like disorderly foals, but she couldn’t argue with the results of the Mom Play, as she called it.

“Well, if there’s no other new business…” Celestia paused pointedly to stare at each noblepony in turn. “Fine. Let us continue, then, with…”

Suddenly, the solarium’s large double doors burst open with a force that nearly knocked them off their hinges.

“HAIL, NOBLEMARES AND NOBLESTALLIONS OF EQUESTRIA!” Luna shouted as she marched into the room, followed closely but far more quietly by a very worried-looking Flora. “WE BID YOU GREETINGS ON THIS FINE MORNING!”

“Luna! What are you doing?” Celestia sputtered before hastily adding: “Inside voice!”

“WHATEVER DOST THOU MEAN, SISTER?” bellowed Luna, even louder than before. Several of the nobleponies slid bonelessly from their seats as they fainted from the sheer force of the Royal Canterlot Voice. Celestia noticed that Flora had stuffed her ears with cotton balls.

“The Voice, Luna! You’re doing the Voice again!” cried Celestia as her sister blithely trotted past her.

“AM NOT!” the princess of the night countered. “OOH! IS THAT A BALCONY? NEAT!”

“Luna! Where are you…” Celestia began, but her sister ignored her and made a beeline for the balcony. Celestia turned to Flora, her eyes blazing.

“How much?” the princess of the sun hissed angrily.

“HUH?” yelled Flora.

Celestia frowned and yanked the cotton from Flora’s ears with her magic. “How much espresso did you let my little sister drink?”

“Um…” Flora hesitated. “What makes you think she’s been drinking espresso, your Majesty?”

“METHINKS I CAN SEE THE OCEAN FROM HERE!” Luna shouted from the balcony.

“My sister may be weird, Miss Civilia,” Celestia said curtly, “but she is never this weird without ridiculous amounts of caffeine involved!”

“I KNOW! I SHOULD BUY A BOAT!”

“How much has she had, Flora?” Celestia insisted, her teeth clenched and flames beginning to flicker at the edges of her mane and tail.

Flora hesitated again, her eyes flicking from side to side, instinctively looking for a chance to escape as her mind – unbidden – dredged up old stories she had read in history class about Celestia’s ‘Flame Empress’ days from centuries ago. Finally, she answered: “Two…”

“HELLO DOWN THERE! WHAT IS THY NAME?”

“Oh,” Celestia said, her anger instantly deflating. “Two shots? That’s actually not so bad.”

“…litres.”

Celestia was very quiet for a moment. Then she leapt forward, picked Flora up by the shoulders and shook her violently. “YOU LET LUNA DRINK TWO LITRES OF ESPRESSO?!?”

“What was I supposed to do?” Flora shouted back. “Tell a princess to stop?”

“MY NAME IS LUNA! I AM A PRINCESS!”

Celestia set Flora back down and pressed a hoof to the bridge of her nose in an attempt to slow the onset of what was sure to be a real flank-bucker of a headache. “Fine, fair enough,” Celestia admitted. “But in future, Flora, please consider it well within your purview as a royal assistant to keep your princess from doing colossally stupid things.”

“Things like drinking two litres of the most concentrated caffeinated beverage known to ponykind, your Majesty?”

“Yes, things precisely like that.”

“I CAN TASTE SOUNDS!”

“Whoops!” Celestia cried. “She’s experiencing synesthesia! Somepony catch her!”

Luna began to tilt backwards from where she had been leaning against the balcony’s railing, her legs straight and unyielding as she toppled over. One of the Royal Guards lining the walls of the solarium, who might as well have been part of the furniture beforehand, instinctively leapt into action, diving to catch the younger princess. To his credit, the guard realised how little chance he stood of actually catching a pony nearly twice his size about halfway into his dive, but by then he had no way of halting his momentum.

“WASODSNASLKDFASFGZXJAOSID!” Luna shouted from where she lay atop the slightly crushed guard before unceremoniously passing out with a beatific grin plastered on her face.

“I’m okay,” groaned the guard from underneath the now very unconscious Princess of the Night.

Silence descended upon the solarium for a few seconds. Flora fidgeted uncomfortably and stared at her hooves as Celestia’s assistant, an impeccably-groomed white unicorn, appeared seemingly out of thin air and began whispering something in the elder princess’s ear.

“Ah, yes, an excellent idea, Silver,” Celestia said as her assistant disappeared once again in a puff of pure efficiency. She turned to address one of the Royal Guards, apparently the leader despite being indistinguishable from the other guards gathered around Luna and their fallen comrade. “Lieutenant, I would like you and your stallions to escort our poor afflicted nobleponies here back to their rooms – or to the infirmary, depending on their wishes. You have my permission to make use of the emergency chalkboards should communication with some of the more deafened of them prove difficult. We shall reconvene the council once they have had some time to recover.”

As the Royal Guards began ushering the nobleponies out of the solarium, many making use of their specialised charades training, Flora worked up her nerve and approached Princess Celestia.

“Um… your Majesty?” Flora asked meekly. “What exactly just happened here?”

“Hm? Oh, well, Silver Lining suggested we allow the nobles to regain their hearing before continuing with our meeting,” Celestia replied. “Although I doubt that they will ever truly listen to me in these sorts of meetings, I agree that they should at least have the capacity to hear. It’s the principle of the thing, really.”

“No, no, I meant with Princess Luna,” Flora clarified.

“Ah, yes. That,” Celestia said. “Too much caffeine always affects her like that. She gets very strange and jittery for a bit, and then she starts hearing colours or something and passes out.” A nostalgic smile crossed Celestia’s face. “It used to happen all the time when she’d stay up reading and drinking nothing but tea all day,” she added.

“So… um… No harm done, then?” Flora said with a nervous grin.

“Nothing long-term, certainly,” Celestia agreed, but then her expression grew more serious. “However, this little escapade did interrupt a very important meeting.”

Flora gulped.

“As such, I feel I have no choice but to require you to take responsibility for this mess,” Celestia went on, “and help Luna back up to her chambers.”

“Help her…”

“Yes.”

“You mean, carry her…?”

“That is correct.”

“But she’s twice my size!” Flora protested.

“I never said it would be easy,” Celestia responded. “Being the personal assistant to a princess is a weighty responsibility, after all. But I believe that you are up to the challenge of carrying this heavy burden. Here, I’ll even help you out a bit.”

A golden light surrounded Luna as her sister’s magic lifted her lazily into the air and deposited her on Flora’s back. Flora’s legs nearly buckled as the golden light disappeared, and she gritted her teeth with the effort of keeping the Princess of the Night from once again falling to the floor.

“Have fun, Miss Civilia!” Celestia called cheerfully as Flora trudged towards the solarium’s still-open doors.

Flora bit back a nasty and potentially employment-ending response, and instead paused briefly to look at Celestia over the darker princess slung across her withers.

“Princess, if you don’t mind me asking: is it always this weird around here?”

“Oh, no, my little pony, of course not!” Celestia said soothingly. As Flora turned and continued trudging away under the weight of the Princess of the Night, Celestia added: “Sometimes it gets really odd.”

-FIN-

Author's Note

Tried a significantly less labour-intensive and rather more traditional format for this one. Please let me know in the comments below which you like best: this format, with the indented paragraphs, or the format of the previous chapter, with extra lines between paragraphs. I will stick to one or the other in future.

Oh, and what, no small caps font style, FimFiction? I am disappointed. I shall have to jigger some kind of acceptable solution.

And yes, Flora's name is a play on the fora civilia, the Roman civic forums. Don't you feel smart?

The Fun Engine

-A Tale of Canterlot Castle-

-The Fun Engine-

“So Luna,” said Princess Celestia as she sidled up next to her sister, “what’s this I’ve been hearing about you building a siege weapon on the roof?”

“I am doing nothing of the sort!” Luna replied indignantly. “Wherever didst thou hear such base and scurrilous rumours?”

“Hmm.” Celestia stroked her chin with a forehoof and allowed herself a smug grin. “Forgetting our modern speech, are we? Why, whatever is the matter? Nervous about something?”

“Neigh! I mean, no!” Luna cried. “No! Of course not! And I am totally modern… yo.”

“Mmhmm.” Point for me, Celestia thought.

A brief look of guilt flashed across the younger princess’s face. “I have been building something on the roof though. Well, more the outer wall, really, but that’s hardly…”

Luna trailed off as she met her sister’s even gaze. It was one of Celestia’s trademark “not-quite-baleful-but-still-baleful-enough-to-warrant-concern” looks, and Luna was all-too familiar with what such looks meant.

“It’s definitely not a siege weapon, though,” Luna backpedalled. “Ha ha! No. Almost completely different from one, in fact.”

Luna coughed to clear her throat, then drew herself up to her full regal height as her confidence began to return.

“I am engaged in the construction of a device of ‘fun,’” she declared, ruining her delivery slightly by making air-quotes with her forehooves. “More specifically, an improvement upon one such device I encountered on my last trip to Ponyville.”

“A device of fun?” Celestia echoed.

“Quite so.”

“Not a siege weapon?”

“Most certainly not.”

“May I see it?”

Luna hesitated. “Well, it’s not quite ready yet…”

“Luna.”

“It’s at a rather delicate stage of calibration right at the moment…”

“Luna.” Celestia’s tone was one that brooked no argument, very much the verbal equivalent of her “not-quite-baleful-etc.” looks.

Luna sighed in defeat. “Fine,” she said. “I was going to conduct a test firing today anyway, so you might as well come along to watch.”

Celestia was silent for a moment.

“Test firing?!?”

OOO

“Well, here it is,” Luna said.

“It” was a truly massive construction of wood and steel perched precariously on the western siege wall of Canterlot Castle, easily thirty feet tall, its base projecting nearly ten feet off the wall’s inner edge and having to be supported from underneath by several layers of support struts. It looked to Celestia rather like a skeletal wooden mountain had come to rest, somewhat apologetically, on the walls of her castle.

“It’s a giant catapult,” Celestia said, just a hint of an accusation in her voice, as she noticed the telltale long arm hanging down from the device’s apex and a massive stone weight suspended from the other end.

“A giant trebuchet, actually,” Luna corrected.

Celestia ran a hoof over her face. “Luna, dear, how exactly is this not a siege weapon?” she asked.

“Intent, of course,” Luna replied.

“Intent?”

“Yes. You see,” the younger princess explained, “weapons are made with the intent to do harm. This device is intended not to be an engine of destruction, but rather to be an engine of ‘fun.’” Again, Luna made the air-quotes with her hooves.

“The very fact that you’re putting the words ‘engine’ and ‘fun’ together like that does not bode well,” Celestia observed.

“Nonsense,” scoffed Luna. “I will admit that I thought much as you do when I first saw the catapults the ponies of Ponyville used to throw pumpkins at targets on Nightmare Night…”

“That’s what this monstrosity is based on?”

“… but I realised my error as soon as I saw them in operation,” Luna continued, ignoring her sister’s outburst. “What seemed at first to be miniaturised siege weapons were in fact quite clever devices of ‘fun.’” The air-quotes again. “With a simple change of target and ammunition, the intent of the device alters completely. As you can see, I’ve updated the design a little – its effective range should be increased by several orders of magnitude. Naturally, I’ve also had to upgrade the ammunition a bit.”

As if on cue, a half-dozen of Luna’s Night Guards rolled in one of the largest pumpkins Celestia had ever seen and strapped it into the sling hanging from the trebuchet’s arm. After curtly returning the salute of the Night Guard sergeant signaling that loading was complete, Luna flew up to make a few final adjustments to the massive device. Seemingly satisfied, she settled down beside Celestia and levitated a small but ornate mirror from a nearby stand.

“Preparations are complete – now to check in with our ‘mare on the scene,’ as it were,” Luna said with something approaching manic glee, and of course the required air quotes. “I’ve sent my assistant Flora out to my chosen target site. We should be able to get her report instantaneously through this magic mirror.”

Luna activated the mirror with a surge of magic, giving it an indelicate smack to clear the static from its display. She frowned when all that the mirror showed was darkness.

“Flora? Flora, are you there?” Luna asked as imperiously as possible. “Your princess desires your response!”

A muffled voice could just be heard through the mirror, then light and lurching, disorienting movement could be seen as a grey hoof moved the other mirror. Finally, the face of Flora Civilia, Luna’s personal assistant, swung into view.

“I’m here, princess… erm, princesses,” said the image of the young unicorn, visibly perturbed by being greeted by both halves of the Equestrian diarchy at once. “Sorry – the mirror was just in my saddle bag.”

“That’s alright, Flora,” Celestia soothed, but Luna shouldered her out of the way and nearly pressed her muzzle to the glass of the mirror in her enthusiasm.

“Nevermind that!” the younger princess shouted. “Have you arrived at the target site?”

“Um… Yes, Princess Luna.” The view in the mirror swung to take in what appeared to be an abandoned farm house with a large red ‘X’ painted on its roof.

“Excellent,” Luna purred, tapping her forehooves together gleefully.

“That’s a thatched roof, princess,” Flora’s voice noted. “How did you manage to paint that?”

“With difficulty,” Luna replied. “Now, if we are finished with these superfluous observations, let’s get to the matter at hoof, shall we? Keep the target in the mirror’s view, Flora, I want to see the impact.”

“Impact?” exclaimed Flora. “Uh… Now that I think of it, your Majesty, you never actually told me what was going on.”

“FIRE!” Luna hollered as she pulled the large lever sticking out of the side of the trebuchet.

“Now might be a little too late for second thoughts, my little pony,” Celestia said into the mirror.

“Oh, horseapples.”

The Night Guard loaders leapt clear just as the massive stone weight of the trebuchet lurched downward, the inevitable slowness of its descent multiplied by the magic of leverage into a huge acceleration at the other end of the launching arm. The sling snapped taught around the giant pumpkin, effortlessly flinging the enormous vegetable in a wide arc until, at the very top of its arc, the latch holding the sling opened, letting the pumpkin free. It was out of sight almost immediately, disappearing to a tiny orange dot in the sky, flying, then falling…

There was a shriek from the mirror as its view was overtaken by a tide of orange.

“Flora! Flora, are you alright!” Celestia cried, but again she was shouldered aside by her enthusiastic younger sibling.

“Did I hit the ‘X’?” Luna shouted.

“Pulp! Pulp everywhere!” screamed Flora’s voice – the mirror’s view was still entirely obscured with orange. “Some got in my mouth!”

“The target, Flora! What about the target?” Luna demanded, shaking the mirror in frustration.

“Gone! Everything… Gone! Pulp everywhere! And seeds!” Flora screamed back. “It’s like a pulpy, seedy sea! There are waves and everything!”

“Hm. That seems a bit unreasonable,” Luna muttered, lost in thought. “The pumpkin wasn’t that big.”

“Luna!” Celestia scolded, an accusatory edge creeping back into her voice.

“I’ll never be able to eat pumpkin pie again!”

“Yes, well, your observations have been very helpful, Flora, thank you,” Luna said somewhat sheepishly into the mirror. “Um… You can make your way back to the castle whenever you like. No rush.”

“AAGLBLGLAAARGLGLBLBLRLBLGLRAARGLE!” replied Flora’s voice through the mirror before the connection cut out completely.

There was silence for a moment.

“Well,” said Luna. “’Twould seem that in my drive to create a device of ‘fun’ I have instead created an implement of devastation.”

Celestia sighed. “I’ll put it with the others,” she said.

-FIN-

The Game (part 1)

-A Tale of Canterlot Castle-

-The Game, Part 1-

The question: what do two ancient, immortal, nigh-omnipotent god-princesses do for fun?

The answer: Princessball.

OOO

“’Struth, this is the WORST! POSSIBLE! ERA!” Luna wailed before burying her face in her pillow in despondence.

Celestia stroked her sister’s newly restored starry mane affectionately, making soothing noises even as she glared daggers at the two curious Royal Guards who were trying to catch a surreptitious glimpse of the crying nocturnal princess from the hallway. Celestia snapped the door to Luna’s chambers shut with a thought and a flash of magic and made a mental note to have Captain Shining Armor put those two guards on latrine duty for the next year.

“There, there, Lulu,” the sun princess cooed. “It’s not as bad as all that—they’re just not used to you yet.”

Luna jerked her head out of the muffling confines of her pillow. “Not used to me?” she cried. “They panicked at the very sight of me!”

“You must admit, your change in appearance was quite sudden,” Celestia said, trying to be as diplomatic as possible. “I understand that you were excited to have your powers finally returning to normal and wanted to regain your old form as soon as possible, but ponies these days aren’t used to having their rulers triple in size overnight.”

“Lord Hoofsbury thought I had become Nightmare Moon again!”

“Um… Yes, he means well, but…”

“He attacked me with a candlestick!”

“Er…”

“In the dining room!”

“Well, you should be thankful that Colonel Mustard wasn’t there,” Celestia said with a wry grin, her sense of humour getting the better of her for a moment.

“Why? Is he more proficient with candlesticks as improvised weaponry?”

“Uh… No, no, that was just a reference to…” Celestia began, but then her face brightened as an idea struck her.

“You know what, Lulu?” she continued. “I think I know just the thing to cheer you up: a game!”

Luna cast her sister a wary sidelong glance. “What manner of game?”

“Oh, it’s one of your favourites, if I recall!” Celestia said. “Why, it’ll even make good use of your returned power!”

Luna narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “I fail to see how a mere game might…”

“It’s one that hasn’t been played in over a thousand years,” Celestia interrupted. She was on a roll now, and refused to be stopped before her dramatic reveal. “After all,” she said with a conspiratorial grin. “I haven’t had anypony to play it with.”

Luna’s eyes widened. “Dost thou mean…?” she began, hope plain in her voice.

“Yes,” Celestia confirmed with a nod before leaning in to say in a hoarse whisper:

“Princessball.”

Luna squealed excitedly and clapped her front hooves together like a schoolfilly.

OOO

Dexter Bend, chief artificer of the Royal Canterlot College of Heralds, sat back to admire his latest work, an ornate reworking of the Pennybottom family coat of arms. Everything about it screamed wealth and opulence, from the intricate gold filigree to the facings painstakingly made from precious stones, with the motto in the tongue of ancient Roam adding the weight of history to the whole piece. As an added bonus, although it was only a little over a square foot in size it cost more than most ponies’ houses. Dexter nodded approvingly; although Lord Pennybottom hailed from Hoofington it was clear that he shared the refined values of the Canterlot elite. With a small but self-assured smile, Dexter set the coat of arms down on the section of his workbench he reserved for finished works, adjusting its position minutely to maximise its distance from everything else on the bench. Satisfied that nothing would sully or damage it with unwarranted contact, Dexter turned from the coat of arms to look out the window of his second-storey workshop. He admired the calm sophistication of the Canterlot nobleponies as they walked the street below him…

…just as a massive ball of iron and brass, easily three pony-lengths in diameter, smashed through the stone wall beside him and crunched part-way into the floor before coming to rest.

“A wonderful play, Luna—impressive distance,” said a disembodied but familiar motherly voice from above as part of the ceiling collapsed.

“Ha! Flatter me not with such false sweetness, dear sister. ‘Twould have gone twice again this far hadst thou not flung that tower int’ the way!”

“Precisely why I had to block, my dear Luna!” replied Princess Celestia as she flew in through the gaping hole in the wall. “Oh dear. It seems we’ve done some damage to the College of Heralds. Hello, Master Bend!”

“H-hello…” Dexter quavered, not sure whether he should be more awed by the presence of his princess or by the massive amount of destruction she had apparently just caused to his place of business.

“Is that the new piece for old Pennybottom?” Celestia asked cheerfully. “Looks splendid, as always! A bit heavy on the filigree, though.”

“Um…” Dexter glanced down at the coat of arms he clutched protectively against his chest. He didn’t remember grabbing it. “He said he liked filigree,” he mumbled.

“Fair enough! It’s his bits he’s spending, after all,” Celestia said with a shrug as Luna fluttered down to join her.

“Well, sister?” the darker princess prompted. “’Tis thy play.”

“Yes, I’m thinking, Luna,” Celestia said peevishly, her brow creased in thought. “I have an idea, but I’d hate to do more damage to the College.”

“Semper ludicrum per, dear sister.”

Celestia sighed. “Yes, of course. Redintegro panton laxus. Well, then! Mister Bend, is there anypony else in the building?”

“What? Um… just my brother, but he’s in the basement right now…”

“Perfect!” Celestia declared as she took off and flew back out of the hole, Luna close behind her.

The artificer was left in silence for a moment before he heard a mighty cry of “FORE!” and one of the giant obelisks brought back to Canterlot to decorate the downtown area after Naponyon’s conquests in Neighgypt scythed past, sending the massive ball and much of the rest of the College building soaring away into the distance.

“Well struck, dear sister!” called Luna’s voice. Dexter couldn’t hear Celestia’s doubtlessly modest reply as the two princesses sped off in pursuit of the ball, leaving him still clutching Lord Pennybottom’s new coat of arms amidst the ruin of the College of Heralds. For nearly a minute there was no sound except for the occasional crash of shattered stonework falling, until frantic hoofsteps beat their way up the stairs and a stallion—Dexter’s younger brother Sinister—kicked in the previously undamaged door.

“What in the thirty-three pony hells was THAT?!” shouted Sinister.

“Semper ludicrum per... ‘Always play through’?” Dexter muttered to himself as he parsed the old Roamin. “And ‘fix everything later’? No…” He turned to his brother with a look of abject horror. “Sinister, you have to call the Royal Guard! The princesses are playing…the Game.”

“What? Surely you can’t be serious!”

“Of course I’m serious! And don’t call me Shirley!”

“Uhh… What? But I didn’t…”

“Never mind that now!” Dexter cried. “Go! Now! Sinister Bend, the very fate of Equestria now lies in your hooves!”

“Right! Right!” Sinister agreed, then galloped off back down the stairs and out onto the streets of Canterlot, making a beeline for the nearest Royal Guard station.

Finally relaxing, Dexter set the coat of arms back on his thankfully still-intact workbench. Again, he made a few minute adjustments to its position before he nodded in satisfaction and sat back to admire his handiwork, pleased that his latest masterpiece, at least, had escaped the devastation wrought upon the rest of the building.

A small piece of heavily damaged masonry detached itself from the ceiling and bounced off the coat of arms, leaving a tiny dent in the gold filigree.

Dexter Bend screamed.

OOO

Luna raced after the ball as it bounced and tumbled through the small forest at the base of Canter Mountain leaving deep furrows in the earth and splintered trees in its wake. Just as the ball bounced particularly high off of a giant boulder, Luna swung the massive old oak she had uprooted. The tree connected with the ball with a crack that humbled thunder, sending any woodland creatures brave enough to still be out and about in all the havoc scrambling for their homes and sending the ball caroming off in a new direction.

“Ha ha! Deflection! My play now!” Luna cried triumphantly as she dropped the shattered oak and flew after the ball, scanning the forest for a new implement as she went.

OOO

“Well, gentlecolts, I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumours.” Captain Shining Armor addressed the largest gathering of the Equestrian Royal Guard in living memory. He paced back and forth across the stage at the head of the briefing hall, the eyes of his troops following his every movement.

“It doesn’t matter what you’ve heard—the reality is far worse,” he continued. “Their Royal Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna are playing… the Game.”

There were gasps and whispers of “Princessball!” around the hall. Shining Armor waved a front hoof placatingly.

“Yes, Princessball. One of the oldest and closest held secrets of the Royal Guard. It hasn’t been played for a thousand years, ever since Princess Luna was banished—and we’ve all heard the legends of the single time Princess Celestia tried to play the game against the entire Royal Guard.”

A collective shudder ran through the assembled guardsponies, Shining Armor included, before he went on.

“We’ve also all heard the stories of how the last true game of Princessball started the ten-year conflict with the Griffon Kingdoms known to history as the War of Bloody Skies.” Shining Armor stopped pacing and fixed the guardsmen before him with a grim gaze. “This could give some of the more warmongering of the griffon lords just the excuse they need to threaten Equestria once again. I trust the Princesses and their game completely with the safety of the citizens of Equestria, but the griffons are another thing entirely. We cannot allow them to breach our borders!” he said, stamping a hoof for emphasis.

A young unicorn stallion in the front row tentatively raised a hoof. “But sir,” he said, “wouldn’t it be better to make sure the griffons never even find out?”

Shining Armor sighed. “Yes, Ensign, that would be better. But unfortunately for us, I suspect the griffons already know.”

OOO

“And ye’re certain a’this, laddie? Princessball?” asked Brawwing, Thane of Helmspire Aerie, southernmost of the Griffon Kingdoms.

“Aye, m’Laird,” replied the scout, a young griffon named Swiftin, from where he knelt before his master. “It could nae be else—giants of old trees and even whole buildin’s bein’ tossed aboot like they were nothin’. And a great ball a’black iron through t’all, with th’ two princesses chasin’ after it th’ whole time.”

Brawwing sat back in his throne and stroked his chin thoughtfully with a claw. “Princessball…” he muttered to himself.

“Are… are th’ tales true, Laird?” Swiftin asked hesitantly, breaking his thane’s reverie. “Ha’ they crushed whole cities wi’ their games?”

Brawwing gave a sharp laugh. “Dinnae be askin’ me that, lad—I’ve nae seen ‘em at it. If it happened t’all, ‘twas o’er a thousand years past. What d’ye take me for, a crone?”

At this Keeneye, the thane’s oldest and now most ironically-named advisor, chuckled and adjusted his thick spectacles. “Ach, e’en the eldest a’the crones were nae born when the last and longest-lived a’those who saw those days passed on, young Swiftin,” the old griffon said. “Many a gen’ration stands ‘tween us ‘n’ tha’ time.”

“Aye, but th’ tales ‘n’ traditions stay wi’ us,” Brawwing added gravely. He turned to his advisor. “Keeneye, send oot th’ word t’ th’ other kingdoms,” the thane commanded. “I’ll see t’ our preparations meself. Be off wi’ ye, Swiftin, but stay close—I’ll ha’ need a’ ye ‘ere long.”

“All th’ others, m’Laird?” Keeneye asked after the scout had left. “E’en Greystone Aerie?”

Brawwing gave another sharp burst of laughter. “Especially th’ cowards a’ Greystone! I want ‘em there t’ see us takin’ our long-delayed revenge f’r their treach’ry from the last game, back i’ th’ time a’ Bloody Skies!”

Keeneye grinned, his long-slumbering predator’s instincts beginning to reawaken. “Aye, Thane, ‘twill be done,” the old griffon said. “And vengeance will fin’lly be ours.”

Brawwing grinned himself as Keeneye shuffled away. “Vengeance, indeed,” he said to himself, and barked out another laugh that echoed in the now empty hall.

“Th’ griffons march on Equestria.”

OOO

Celestia laughed like a madmare as she ran, using her wings to keep her precariously balanced on her hind legs while her front hooves held the ball even more precariously above her head.

“Thou’rt cheating, Celestia!” Luna shouted as she galloped after her sister. “No direct contact!”

“No direct magical contact, dear sister!” Celestia called back. “This is totally legal!”

“Cheater!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Cheater!”

“Nuh-uh! And you’re just mad ‘cause you can’t caaaatch meeeee!” gloated Celestia in a sing-song tone. “I can do this all day! Do try to keep up, Luna, if that’s not too much to…”

Celestia looked over her shoulder and paused for a moment—Luna was no longer behind her.

“Um… Uh oh.”

A burst of deep indigo light exploded behind her and a dark magical contrail shot through with stars stretched out to her right before sharply angling back toward her at impossible speed.

“Whoa! Wait a second, Luna, let’s talk about…”

Celestia’s protests were cut off by Luna’s reply, which consisted of slamming into her at nearly twice the speed of sound. The ball was left suspended in mid-air for a comedic moment before gravity reasserted itself, and by the time the ball thudded heavily to the ground the princesses were already almost half a mile away, still airborne.

“Let me go!” Celestia yelled as she squirmed and struggled to break Luna’s grip—despite the younger princess being only two-thirds Celestia’s size she was remarkably strong.

Luna grinned. “As thou wishest!”

Celestia’s face fell. “Wait! No! I misspoke! I meant…” she began, but again her protests were cut off as Luna not only let her go but kicked off from the elder princess as hard as she could, sending Celestia straight down. The white alicorn was briefly aware of a blur of grass beneath her before she slammed head first into the ground; her world was consumed by dirt and the occasional bit of vegetation as her face dug a deep trench in the earth.

In stark contrast to her sister’s terrestrial journey, Luna traced a long graceful arc through the sky before settling back to the ground next to the ball. After a moment to appraise the massive chunk of iron she hefted it over her head with her front hooves, her brow furrowed and her tongue stuck out in intense concentration. Once she was satisfied that she had the ball balanced, she set off at a run on her hind legs, cackling like a maniac. In the distance, Celestia’s head popped up out of the pile of kicked-up dirt and sod where she had finally ground to a halt, rather dirtier than before but none the worse for wear.

“Hey! Get back here, you little cheater!” she shouted as she launched herself after her younger sister.

OOO

“Is it just me, or does it look like they’re having fun?” Lieutenant Sunbeam asked nopony in particular. The bright yellow unicorn Guardsmare was looking through a battered pair of binoculars at the two princesses in the distance. She was having some trouble keeping track of them—the sheer speed and manoeuvrability the two alicorns were capable of made the Wonderbolts look like flight school dropouts. Sunbeam gave a low whistle of admiration as Celestia intercepted the ball, which must have weighed several tons, and spiked it straight down into the ground with a single hoof.

“Whether or not their Royal Majesties are having fun is irrelevant, Lieutenant,” Shining Armor scolded her. “As members of the Royal Guard we have a duty to fulfill—those binoculars should be pointed to the north-eastern border to watch for any griffons on approach.”

“Aw, come on, Cap’n Shiny,” Sunbeam chided with a dramatic pout. Shining Armor groaned and ran a hoof over his face, regretting—as he did nearly every day now—the unplanned visit from his fiancée that had introduced her pet name for him to his troops.

“I hear you used to have some fun every now and then,” the lieutenant continued. “What, do you save all your fun to have with your girlfriend?”

“The personal life of your commanding officer is none of your business, Lieutenant,” Shining deadpanned. He jerked the binoculars out of Sunbeam’s magical grip with his own.

“Hey!” she protested, but he ignored her and brought the binoculars to his eyes. He panned across the distant mountains that formed the border between Equestria and the Griffon Kingdoms before something much closer caught his attention, a dark shape near the princesses’ “game.” He refocused the binoculars to get a clearer view.

“Oh, ponyfeathers,” Shining swore. Sunbeam’s ears perked up.

“What is it, boss? Griffons?”

“Worse,” replied Shining Armor. “Reporters.”

-End Part 1-

Author's Note

I hope you like reading accents! Also highly destructive princessly tomfoolery.

More serious note: this little 3-part arc takes place a bit before many of the other chapters, as Luna has only just regained her adult form. Given the only very loose continuity between the Tales, I haven't worried about placing them in chronological order. If this worries you, I recommend finding the nearest solid wall or piece of furniture and beating your head against it until the worry goes away.

Other, similarly serious note: I apologise for the horrible dog Latin. I don't actually know Latin, and if anyone out there does and knows a more correct way of saying "Always play through" and "Fix everything later," please let me know.

The Game (part 2)

-A Tale of Canterlot Castle-

-The Game, Part 2-

“I understand you’re looking for a new cart,” said Smarmy McHooves, owner and operator of Smarmy’s Quality Cart & Wagon Emporium, as he approached the oddly attired blue mare who was currently looking at his wares far too closely for his liking. He gave her a quick once-over, hoping to see signs that she might be a big spender; she was a unicorn, which was often a good sign, but her strange star-patterned purple hat and cape was confusing his money radar. Smarmy decided to soldier on and hope for the best.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place, if I do say so myself,” he continued, putting on his most winning smile. “I don’t call this a ‘Quality Cart & Wagon Emporium’ for nothing. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for, Miss…?”

The mare turned and assumed one of the most melodramatic poses Smarmy had ever seen outside of a theatre, her head held high, eyebrows arched, and a hoof held up to her chest.

“You may call me the Great and Powerful Trixie,” the mare declared haughtily. “And the Great and Powerful Trixie is not looking for a ‘cart’—Trixie requires something with class and sophistication. Trixie requires a caravan.”

“Uh huh…”

“However, due to forces beyond even her control, Trixie is also on something of a budget right now,” the Great and Powerful Trixie went on. Her superior air faltered for a moment. “Strictly temporary, of course—nothing to worry about. Barely worth mentioning, really.”

“Riiiiight,” said Smarmy. Penniless but prideful—I can work with that.

“Class and sophistication on a budget, you say? A caravan, you say?” Smarmy rambled, stalling for time as he thought quickly. “Why, my dear, you really have come to the right place! I have just what you’re looking for right over here!”

Smarmy directed Trixie to one of his cheapest carts. With a feat of legerdehoof that would have made even a seasoned performer like Trixie jealous had she actually seen it, he quickly knocked off the sign that said “cart” and added an extra zero to the end of the price tag with the marker he always kept around, just in case of marker emergencies. Hiding all this with a quick flourish, he turned back to his prospective customer.

“My dear lady, I am proud to present to you one of the finest examples of the cartwright’s craft and my flagship model, the Ambassador LE sport utility caravan!” Smarmy announced with a deep bow, raising one hoof to sweep across the cart. Trixie scrunched up her face as she stared at it.

“It looks no different from the others to Trixie,” she said in a hesitant tone that kicked Smarmy’s salespony instincts into overdrive, and he pounced like a lion on a sickly, near-sighted gazelle with only three legs.

“Don’t let looks deceive you, my dear Trixie…” Smarmy began.

“Great and Powerful Trixie.”

“My dear Great and Powerful Trixie,” the salespony corrected without skipping a beat. “It’s all the extra features that make the Ambassador LE truly world-class. Little differences that some ponies might not notice but which I’m sure will make it more than worthwhile for a knowledgeable and sophisticated mare such as yourself.”

“Well, yes, naturally,” Trixie agreed, some of her earlier haughtiness returning. “And Trixie cannot complain about the price.”

“Uh… Really?” Smarmy asked, his grin faltering for the merest instant. Maybe I should’ve added another zero…

“Oh yes, quite reasonable,” Trixie replied. “Does it come in yellow and red?”

“We can certainly do that for you, Miss Great and Powerful Trixie, as long as you don’t mind giving some time to let the paint dry,” Smarmy recovered with a smile. If this customer was willing to pay ten times what the cart was worth, he was more than willing to slap some paint on it to seal the deal.

“Excellent. Trixie will take it,” Trixie declared. “Just one more question—has Equestria changed its currency so that there are now a thousand pennies to the bit?”

“Um… no…” Smarmy turned to look at the price tag. The extra zero he had added was still fresh, the ink only beginning to dry—right after the other two zeroes in the cents columns.

Aw, dangit.

Only a few minutes of painting and grumbling later, and the Great and Powerful Trixie was on her way with her brand new caravan. She turned to wave at the salespony, who was having some difficulty maintaining his smile now.

There was a flash of black and brass in Trixie’s peripheral vision as a massive sphere fell out of the sky and bounced off the dirt road, just barely clipping the caravan on the rebound. Her eyes widened as the cart tilted ominously. It balanced on two wheels for a sickening moment before settling back down. Trixie breathed a sigh of relief…

…just as two large alicorns—one just on the pink side of white and the other a deep night blue—barrelled through, smashing the caravan to splinters before bouncing off haphazardly, cursing and squabbling the whole time.

As the Great and Powerful Trixie stood next to her ruined caravan, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open in shock, Smarmy McHooves sidled up next to her.

“So, miss, I understand you may be in the market for a new caravan,” he said.

OOO

“Oh, wow. Wow. This is… this is gold,” Jimmy breathed as he snapped photo after photo of the two regal rulers of Equestria walloping each other in a desperate bid to get to the ball first. “Front page news, here I come! I just need to get a little closeraaaAAAAAUUGH!”

Jimmy screamed and recoiled from his camera as his viewfinder filled first with a flash of purplish-pink magic and then a very large and very angry blue eye. The young photographer stumbled and landed on his rump; adding insult to injury, his camera swung down on its strap and smacked him hard in the chest, momentarily knocking the wind out of him.

“Well, if it isn’t my little pal Jimmy Coltsen,” Shining Armor said as he loomed over the fallen colt. Jimmy looked up at the Guard captain with a sheepish grin.

“Uh, hey, Captain Armor. Good to see you!” the photographer said as he rubbed his bruised sternum, silently cursing both his luck and his clunky old camera. “I was just, uh, out for a bit of a walk. Yeah! A walk. With my camera. Walking’s good for your health, you know, so…”

“Do you actually expect me to buy that load of horseapples?” Shining interjected.

“No, but it was worth a shot,” Jimmy admitted. He brushed a lock of his ginger mane out of his eyes and tried a grin again, but Shining Armor simply glowered at him, unmoved.

“Jimmy, for your own safety I’m going to have to ask you to…”

“Oh, no you don’t, Shining Armor!” shouted a mare’s voice in a slight Manehattan accent.

“Oh, crud,” Shining and Jimmy muttered in unison as a pale purple mare with a dark mane walked right up to the captain and jabbed a hoof into his chestplate.

“You can’t just show up and start bossing Jimmy around!” the mare said. “That’s my job!”

“Memory Lane, always a pleasure,” said Shining Armor dryly. “Has Perry Winkle finally let you handle something other than fluff nostalgia stories?”

Memory Lane waved a hoof in Shining’s face dismissively and turned to Jimmy.

“Jimmy, have you got pictures?” she asked.

“Yes, Miss Lane.”

“Of the princesses?”

“Yes, Miss Lane.”

“Good pictures?”

“I’ve got some great wide action shots, Miss Lane, but for close-ups I’ll need to get, well, closer,” Jimmy said.

“Well, then what are you still doing here?” Memory Lane demanded with a withering glare. “Get over there and get me some pictures!”

“Um…”

“Actually, Miss Lane, I can’t allow him to do that,” Shining Armor interrupted.

“Oh? And why not, Shiny?”

Shining frowned. “Is there anypony who hasn’t heard about that?” he mused.

“There won’t be when I’m done with this story!” Memory crowed.

Shining Armor sighed and ran a hoof over his face. “Look, Miss Lane, as I was just saying to Jimmy when you arrived, for your own safety I’m going to have to ask both of you to leave,” he said.

“You can’t censor me! I’m a representative of the free press!” Memory shouted. “This is a story that the citizens of Equestria deserve to have me win a Ponylitzer for! I mean, to know about!”

“I’m not going to stop you writing your article, Miss Lane. I doubt I could even if I tried,” Shining explained. “But although the princesses haven’t injured anypony so far, I’d rather play it safe than risk having the casualty count be anything other than zero. You can still observe, but you’ll have to pull back to a safe distance.”

“HA! So you admit you have no authority here!” Memory gloated, once again jabbing a hoof into Shining Armor’s chestplate. “You can’t do anything to make us leave, so I’m going to…”

With a shrill whistle, a fir tree streaked towards them like a giant arrow and embedded itself point-first in the ground with a “thud-ud-ud-ud” sound that might have been hilarious had it not been caused by several dozen feet of conifer burying itself halfway into the dirt not ten feet away.

“…I’m going to move to a safe distance right now, and you can’t stop me!” Memory Lane finished.

“Oh, heavens forbid,” Shining said amiably.

“Safe distance sounds good to me, Miss Lane,” Jimmy added.

“Shut up, Jimmy!” Memory snapped, grabbing the colt by his camera strap and dragging him away. Shining Armor waved.

“Always a pleasure, Miss Lane!” he called after them before turning at the sound of galloping hooves to see Lieutenant Sunbeam finally catch up.

The unicorn mare tottered to a halt and collapsed in a heap at Shining’s hooves. Her orange mane was matted with sweat under her helmet and a froth had built up around her chestplate.

“Don’t… don’t like… running…” Sunbeam gasped between breaths. “Gotta… learn to… teleport… like you…”

“Come along, Lieutenant,” Shining said as he trotted away. “We should get back to safety ourselves.”

“What? But I just got here!”

Before Lieutenant Sunbeam could protest any further, inspiration struck her. Or rather, it struck the ground about fifty feet away, and instead of inspiration it was really more like one of the old abandoned stone farmhouses that were a common sight in the fields around Canter Mountain. If a building made of seventy-pound stone blocks could splash, this one did so, sending said seventy-pound stone blocks splattering all over the countryside.

“Right! Safety! Yes! Good idea! Wait for me, Cap!” Sunbeam called as she found her second wind and galloped after her commanding officer.

OOO

Luna trotted up next to her sister, who was staring straight ahead with her lips pursed and a hoof tapping her cheek pensively. Luna followed Celestia’s eyes.

“Hmm… Mud pit,” the night princess said as she appraised the large and apparently quite deep patch of brown muck that currently occupied Celestia’s attention.

“Eeyup,” the elder princess concurred laconically.

Luna frowned. The ball was stuck right in the middle of the mud and was sinking rapidly.

“Um… Should I perhaps…?” she began.

“Nope. My play,” Celestia interrupted.

“But the ball is sinking.”

“Eeyup.”

“Into the mud.”

“It sure is.”

“But shouldn’t thou be… Ah!” Luna cried out as the ball was finally sucked below the surface of the mud with an audible “gloop.”

Celestia grinned. “Perfect,” she said, then closed her eyes. Her horn glowed as she reached out with her magic.

“What art thou…?” Luna started asking, but stopped in shock as a huge mass of water rushed up out of the mud, leaving the surface of the pit cracked and dry as a bone before exploding outward and drenching everything nearby—except Celestia, naturally.

“Aagh! Cold!” Luna shrieked, but Celestia was so deep in concentration she could not even hear her sister’s complaints. Her ethereal mane began to roil, changing colour from its usual calming dawn tones to the bright reds and oranges of a vibrant sunrise. Finally, the sun princess’s eyes snapped open, glowing pure white, and her mane burst into a rippling sheet of flame. The intense blast of heat nearly knocked Luna over, drying her instantly, but then stopped as suddenly as it started. Celestia’s mane returned to normal, but her eyes still glowed white as she swung her horn to point straight up at the sky. Following her motion, the parched surface of the mud pit lurched upward a few feet with a rumble before the whole thing pulled loose from the earth. As the solidified mud drifted up out of its erstwhile home, the dry, cracked outer layer sloughed off, leaving only an immense and semi-transparent vitreous mass, the iron ball clearly visible deep inside.

Beginning to tremble from the effort of lifting several tons of fused silicate, Celestia gritted her teeth. “Magic… not… touching… the ball… directly…” she managed to grunt through the strain.

Luna’s mouth gaped open. “Aww! No fair!”

OOO

Radu Goldwing, Voivode of Greystone, tapped a claw impatiently as he surveyed his clan’s preparations from the side of a cliff high above the rest of the fortress-like aerie. Weapons and supplies of all kinds passed below him, carried by his griffon warriors, but Radu knew that they alone would not sway the invasion of Equestria in Greystone’s favour. His warriors were brave and he was proud of each and every one of them, but Radu knew that in order to outdo the slinking cowards of Helmspire in honourable battle and erase the millennium-old stain upon Greystone’s honour they would need an edge—an edge that had been sealed away in the deepest vaults of his ancestors. Until now.

Radu turned, letting his long cape swirl behind him as he stalked back into his Great Hall, where a trio of crones, attended to by a young apprentice witch, chanted as they circled the stone vessel that now lay in the middle of the hall.

“Vitch!” Radu shouted, causing the apprentice to start and scurry towards him. “Vhy is eet takink zo lohng?”

“Forgiff me, Voivode,” the young witch said, cowering before the massive old warlord. “De zeremony, eet cannot be rushed, or else de spells dat seal de vessel vill stay locked foreffer. Hyu must be patient.”

“Do not presume to tell me vhat to do!” roared Radu, looming over the griffon witch. “Hy vill tear out hyou’re…!”

Radu was interrupted by a small pouch of aromatic herbs that sailed through the air and bounced unceremoniously off his head. The warlord turned to glare at the crone who threw it.

“Bah!” the crone said with a scowl. “Dun’t go scarink de new gorl, leetle Radu.”

“Auntie! Hyu promised hyu vouldn’t call me dat!” the immense griffon lord complained, his anger completely drained away. “Hy haff an image to keep up!”

“Bah!” the crone said again, and beckoned the apprentice witch towards her. “Dun’t vorry about heem, schveethott, hee’s a puzzycat vhen hyu get to know heem.”

“But only in de back!” the other two crones piped up in unison before collapsing into fits of snorting, wheezing laughter.

“Uhm… vhat about de zeremony?” asked the young witch.

“Yes! Vhat about de zeremony?” echoed Radu, glad for the change in subject.

“Vhat, dat?” the first crone replied with a dismissive wave of a claw. “All de important schtuff vas done an hour ago. Ve just had to vait for de spells to unravel.”

“But… but de chanting! And de dancing in de circle!”

“Hoh, dat vasn’t de zeremony—dat vas just to keep ourselves hoccupied.” The other two crones nodded. “In fact, de vessel should be openink up any second now.”

A crack and the hiss of ancient air escaping confirmed the crone’s words, and the lid of the stone container visibly loosened.

“Hoh! Zee! Vhat did hy tell hyu?” the crone said, but Radu had already approached the vessel and was wrenching off the heavy lid. The deep violet glow that emanated from the opened vessel underlit his beaked face eerily as he gazed upon the relics of his ancestors that lay within.

“Dese are dem?” he asked, his voice hushed in awe. “Dese are… de Claws of Primacy?”

“Indeed dey are, Voivode,” the first crone said, seriousness returning to her voice as the other crones gathered behind her. “Arm hyou’re varriors vith dese hancient relics and hyu vill be unstoppable.”

Radu Goldwing felt a grin tug at the edges of his beak. “Dey’re perfect,” he whispered. “Neither de ponies nor de fools of Helmspire vill know vhat hit dem.”

The Voivode began to laugh, the crones joining him with a throaty cackle. The apprentice witch joined as well, but rather more self-consciously.

OOO

“I tell ya, Deadpan, this bleepin’ sucks.”

Two Royal Guards, both wearing the dull steel armour that denoted the lowest possible rank of Guardspony, stood flanking a small, unremarkable wooden door in the depths of Canterlot Castle. The grey unicorn referred to as Deadpan rolled his eyes but said nothing in reply to his dark blue bat pony compatriot, Bluestreak.

“This bleepin’ sucks big bleepin’ Diamond Dog bleeps,” the bat pony continued, heedless of his partner’s disinterest. “‘Join the Royal Guard,’ they said. ‘Princess Luna’s back, so the Night Guard needs bat ponies to fill the ranks,’ they said. ‘Do the bat ponies proud with glorious service,’ they said,” Bluestreak spat. “But all that bleepin’ action out there, and what do we get stuck guarding?” He waved a hoof at the door behind them. “The bleeper bleepin’ staff privy. It’s bleepin’ humiliating!”

Deadpan groaned and finally gave in. “Bluestreak, you do realise it’s your fault we have to be here, right?” the unicorn said. “You put snakes in the Sergeant’s bunk. Again.”

“Only a few!”

“I counted thirty-five,” Deadpan retorted. “And those were just the ones that didn’t slither away into the water pipes when Corporal Scrappy tried to flush them.”

“Oh, come on! Most of them weren’t even bleepin’ poisonous!”

“The only mystery to me is how you managed to sneak three dozen snakes into the barracks in the first place,” Deadpan went on. “That, and the reason why I always have to join you in these punishment details.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Bluestreak said. “I name you as my co-conspirator whenever Sarge questions me.”

Deadpan smacked a hoof to his face. “You… you… ugh.”

“What? You don’t want me down here by my bleepin’ self, do you?” Bluestreak protested. “I’d get lonely.”

“If it’s loneliness you’re worried about, I think your sophisticated charm is more to blame for that,” Deadpan stated flatly. “Speaking of which, I see you’ve still got that curse the Princess put on you.”

“Bleepin’ right I do!” the bat pony confirmed. “I can’t bleepin’ swear at all! I can’t even say bleep!”

“Actually, you say bleep all the time,” Deadpan said with a grin.

“But I’m not trying to say bleep, I’m trying to say bleep! And bleep, and bleep, and bleep!”

“Well, I think the Censor Curse is an improvement,” the unicorn said. “Not to mention the fact that—as usual—you only have yourself to blame for it. You said the Q-word, right in front of Celestia.”

“Well, sure, but she still bleepin’ overreacted!”

“In the middle of court.”

“Yeah, but…”

“While the Prench ambassador was giving a speech.”

Bluestreak chuckled. “Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. The look on that old bleep’s face was priceless!”

Deadpan gave a long-suffering sigh. “How in Celestia’s name did somepony like you manage to get into the Royal Guard?” he asked the world in general.

“Because I’m real bleepin’ good at what I do, that’s how!” Bluestreak replied, assuming his best action pose, hooves splayed, body lowered, and leathery wings spread. “I am a genuine, honest-to-bleepness bad-bleep! A trained, professional bleepbleeper! Which brings me back to what I was saying earlier: babysitting bleepin’ toilets is a waste of my bleepin’ talent. I should be out there, kicking bleep and bleepin’ bleep up!”

“Uh huh.”

“I am wasting away down here, bro!” Bluestreak continued, grabbing Deadpan by the shoulders and staring into his eyes from uncomfortably close. “Bleepin’ wasting away! I need the action!” A yearning expression crossed the bat pony’s face. “By Celestia’s perfect bleepies, what I wouldn’t give to be in on that sweet, sweet action.”

OOO

“I repeat: the Princesses have breached the western perimeter! All units fall back to pattern delta-nine!” Shining Armor shouted into the old magic-powered trottie-talkie as flaming debris rained down around him. “They’ve hit the abandoned gravel quarry! Evacuate all civilians within ten miles!”

“HA HA HA! THY FEEBLE FLAME ELEMENTALS CANNOT STAND AGAINST MY MIGHTY STONE GOLEMS, SISTER!” Luna’s voice bellowed in the distance. “THE BALL SHALL BE MINE, AND VICTORY SOON THEREAFTER!”

“Can anypony hear me?” Shining screamed into the trottie-talkie, but his entreaties were met only with static.

Lieutenant Sunbeam cowered on the ground beside her captain with her front hooves clasped tightly over her head. “Wanna go home, the rocks aren’t on fire at home,” she mumbled as a particularly large chunk of flaming and partially melted stone landed nearby with a deafening crash.

What I wouldn’t give to be out of here, Shining thought.

OOO

“Oh, bleep yeah. Sweet, sweet action for me,” Bluestreak said wistfully. “I’d be all like, ‘take that,’ and the griffons or whoever would be all, ‘oh bleep, it’s Bluestreak,’ and I’d be like, ‘aww yeah, suck it, ya bleepers!’”

He had finally released his grip on Deadpan’s shoulders, and the unicorn had retreated to a safe distance to brush off his uniform. Deadpan groaned and rolled his eyes as Bluestreak swung his hooves wildly at imaginary opponents.

“That’s right! I know bat fu, bleeperbleepers! I will bleep you up! Whachaaa!”

OOO

The two princesses lay on their backs in a puddle of cooling magma, staring up at the sky.

“Perhaps,” Celestia began, “the flame elementals were not a terribly good idea.”

Luna nodded. “And methinks my golems were not amongst my better ideas, either.”

“Do you think we should institute a new rule against the use of armies of magically animated minions?”

“Mayhap it would be wise.”

Celestia sat up and wrung some molten rock out of her mane. She stared thoughtfully at the piles of gravel that surrounded them, some of which were still on fire.

“Is gravel supposed to burn like that?” she asked.

Luna shrugged. “Thou’rt the fire expert, sister, not I,” she replied.

“Hmm.” Celestia rested her head on a forehoof. “Do you remember whose play it is, Luna?”

“Neigh, Celestia,” the dark princess answered. “’Twould seem we lost all semblance of ordered play amidst the roil of battle.”

Celestia and Luna looked at each other for a moment, then their eyes widened.

“SCRAMBLE!” they shouted simultaneously before they both began a mad dash for the ball, which sat nearby ticking and hissing as it cooled.

Celestia was the first to get to her hooves, aided in no small part by the shove she gave her sister, but before she could pull too far ahead Luna tackled her from behind, pinning the elder princess’s hind legs. The larger alicorn tottered briefly before collapsing, but even then continued to pull herself forward with her front legs as Luna dragged behind her.

“Almost… there…” Celestia reached out a trembling hoof, stretching the last few inches to give the ball a delicate tap. “Ha!” she cried in triumph. “My play now!”

“Curses,” grumbled Luna.

OOO

“Griffons inbound, sir,” intoned Lieutenant Sunbeam. Although he could not see her face around her binoculars the tightness in her voice – not to mention his usually lighthearted subordinate’s use of precise military terms – was all Shining Armor needed to tell him how tense she was. He put a hoof lightly on her shoulder to calm her.

“Force disposition?”

“I count somewhere around seven or eight hundred spread across six separate cohorts,” Sunbeam answered. “I recognise the heraldry of Greystone, Helmspire, Clawsreach, and Whitecrest aeries, and what looks like a small group from Blackbeak’s raiders, but…” Her professionalism faltered. “Well, you should probably see this, sir.”

Shining Armor narrowed his eyes as he took the binoculars from his lieutenant and peered through them. The advancing flights of griffons immediately loomed large in his vision, all decked out in deep purples and bright pinks… Wait, what? Shining Armor thought as he rubbed his eyes and took a second look through the binoculars.

“Yeah, the colours are all wrong, aren’t they?” Sunbeam said.

“Have some of them painted themselves pink?”

“And purple, sir, yes.”

“And those ones on the left – are they wearing…?”

“Giant fake-fur hats? It certainly appears so, Captain.”

“Are you sniggering, Lieutenant?”

“A little bit, sir.”

Shining Armor lowered the binoculars and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a forehoof, heaving the long-suffering sigh of a dedicated professional whose childhood dream job has turned out to entail dealing with ridiculousness on a daily basis.

“So, are we still thinking this is an armed invasion, sir?” Sunbeam chirped, all traces of professionalism long gone, drawing another long sigh from her captain.

“I’m not sure what to think about this anymore, Lieutenant, but I’ll be damned if I don’t get to the bottom of this,” Shining Armor replied, laying down the binoculars and setting off at a brisk trot towards the griffons with a determined expression on his face.

-End Part 2-

Author's Note

Part 2, and yet another Trixie cameo!

Sorry, Great and Powerful Trixie cameo.

Unrelated note: the accent of the griffons from Helmspire is loosely based on that of Terry Pratchett's Nac Mac Feegle (the Pictsies), while the Greystone griffons' accent is based on that of the Jaegermonsters from the Girl Genius webcomic. Apologies to Sir Pratchett and the good professors Foglio.