One Horn Too Many

The explosive sound of trumpeting made him fold his ears against his head, under his bell-covered hat. Whichever mad genius had had the idea of torturing ponies with protocols received yet another string of mental curses aimed at them, courtesy of the most powerful unicorn of his time. It made the act of visiting any of the courts an unpleasant business for that fact alone.

Not that Starswirl would have otherwise enjoyed speaking to the pompous, self-important nobility of Canterlot. He could have of course blown away every unicorn that sat there, even if they had worked together -- a miracle the likes of which had not been seen since the Unification or the Defeat of Discord. No, the old mage’s problem was of the character of the ponies he wished to present his findings to. Wisdom immemorial and personal experience told him the unicorns would be the worst ponies to try and convince of the benefits of his project.

At first, Starswirl, amongst others, had protested that the separation of the courts would only lead to the same problems they had been trying to avoid with the unification. After witnessing one of the few reunions with the three courts assembled, he quickly retracted his objections.

It had been one the few backtracks witnessed in his long existence, but even he would rather not see the Windigoes’ frost return. Let most ponies coexist in the same country before trying to force the prejudices and misconceptions of the past to die.

Discord’s reign had left most ponies shaken, and all but the oldest ponies alive nowadays had been born within the Century of Madness. Or rather, the ninety-eight years and twenty-seven days of madness. The draconequus would have loved for his reign of terror to have been recalled as a timeless blur in history. Starswirl had thus resolved to count it down to the grain of his hourglasses.

The old archmage allowed himself a rare -- hidden -- smile, even in the presence of his least favorite court of important ponies. His students had done admirably, and he could not wait for them to finally take their places at the head of ponykind. The sooner the buffoons covered in gold and jewelry were off the reigns of the kingdom, the better.

“Starswirl the Bearded,” announced loud and clear Princess Adamantine. The silver-white mare spoke lightly, conversationally, addressing the nobles around her rather than him. “Rumours had it that you were lost in the wilderness.”

A hoofful of ponies chuckled politely, behind their hooves. Starswirl heeded them no more attention than rats in an open field.

“I was in the wilderness, Princess Adamantine, but I was not lost. I knew precisely what I was looking for.”

“And did you find it?” rose another snide voice.

For a moment, Starswirl fought back the annoyance surging through his body. He was three quarters of the way through a silencing curse when he managed to calm himself.

He cast a cool gaze over the off-white young stallion instead. He had some sway in this court after all. The princess’ nephew.

“As the Fates have decided, I happen to have.” Those with even a hint of talent in magic subtly backed away from the ether pulsing through the old archmage’s body. “After three weeks of travels through the South, I have stumbled upon a small community of bicorns.”

At first, the indignation swelled with the ugly sneers of tribalism. Those like Lady Traditional Values vowed no such associations with the chaos spawn, for they had the audacity of even distantly resembling unicorns. They could not tolerate that, they would not! Until, with a series of strangled gasps, all ponies cut their protests short.

He was speaking.

As ponies had learned over the long years of his life, one did not interrupt Starswirl the Bearded when he was speaking.

They fell silent as the dead.

“Not unlike the previous rumours mentioned in this court, the words on the bicorns are as false as they are ridiculous. There is nothing to fear from them. They have as much talent for chaos magic as Lady Aquamarine does for regular magic.”

This time, more than a few ponies laughed, as if to forget their fears. Said lady however, under her marine blue coat, turned crimson in outrage.

The mare stood up in a clinking of jewelry and roared, “You forget yourself, Mage!”

With but a slight turn of his head, Starswirl the Bearded surveyed the noblemare and her jewel-covered attired. He would have given nothing of his thought, if not for the twitch of his long beard. “Neigh, Lady Aquamarine. I never forget anything, least of all myself. I am the most powerful mage to have ever lived. I am the sole teacher of the alicorns. Nopony has ever understood magic as deeply as I have, and no pony will in a thousand years. Now, ponder again who has forgotten themselves in this conversation.”

Ponies gave Lady Aquamarine a wide berth, either out of repulsion for the slight hint of sweat now mixing with her powerful perfume or out of fear of the low pressure in the air, near the basis of all their horns.

When Starswirl’s hoof began to move, the mare fainted.

The old mage’s eyes twinkled behind the wrinkles of his face. “Never let it be said that I know nothing of jesting, oh horned idiots of the royal court.”

A few rogue chuckles floated above the crowd of assembled unicorns, and a great unease descended on the nervous ponies. Had they been meant to laugh? Or was this the serious part? Starswirl the Bearded had never been known for his sense of wits and jest, not that anypony would voice the thought out loud anymore.

And in the middle of the court, a mild grimace on his lips, the old stallion sighed to himself. Well, he suspected that elder Temperance would smile that infuriating knowing smile of his, seeing the frozen crowd around him. Starswirl would rather play the part of the mysterious mentor than that of the clueless pupil, and so far, only the bicorn elder had ever managed to swap roles with him. How grating.

How exciting.

“There is much to be learned from our twin-horned brethren,” he continued as if there had been no interruption. “We would be wise to put aside the old superstitions of our foremothers and truly make an effort to unite all pony tribes under a single banner… Bicorns are as pony as you and I. They have two horns, but other ponies have none and we do not hunt them like pariah. This is the exact recommendation I will make to the pegasus council and the earth pony assembly.”

How little was his surprise at the sight of Lady Traditional Value, green at the thought of coming into contact with non-unicorn and red at the lack of reaction from her fellow -- saner -- nobles.

Princess Adamantine studied him intently, one of the few to wish to see through his intent. He could acknowledge the effort, but his ways were his alone. Only Celestia and Luna might one day become privy to these secrets.

“I have spoken,” he said, and turned his back on them all.

--

Back on Earth, where things weren’t such a mess, Edward had had a grandfather clock. Not a particularly valuable one, but it produced an oddly calming ticking noise for the long hours he was away in his study to read up for his next day at work.

He chose to believe it a lucky coincidence that one such clock had been placed in their equestrian living room, right next to the couch, placed against the wall. The ticking, coupled with the gentle push of the wind in the leaves outside, could have lulled him into an early sleep, had he so been inclined.

Or, rather, the evening would have unfolded in peaceful, blissful silence, if one young stallion did not seem physically compelled to fill it with his blathering.

“So, I’m thinking I could carry an apology letter to them on your behalf.” Attention Span nodded to himself, a bit quickly, rubbing his front legs together. He did not seem to notice that both his charges were trying to focus on their readings, and that Edward’s ears twitched with alarming regularity. “Yup, a good apology letter. Because I know you didn’t mean to make them cry, but their feelings were still hurt. So, if you would just give me a message to pass to them, I’d have no problem dropping by their places, and hay, maybe bring back some donuts from the bakery Pinkie lives in.”

“Attention Span,” growled Edward, and it was a sound so mangled one could barely recognize the name uttered underneath all that hatred.

“Yes?” The private blinked innocently, standing at attention.

“Have you ever wondered what your spleen looks like?”

“Edward...” Pierre growled.

Attention Span tilted his head to the side, his armor clinking, before his smile widened. “Oh, no worries. They told us all about it during training. Plus, I’ve got my accreditation as a field medic!”

Edward proceeded to stand up, toss his book on the couch, and trotted to the nearest wall. There, his face took great care to befriend said wall with all the force of a sledgehammer.

The hit vibrated into the walls, and was felt by the other two stallions with simultaneous winces.

“Whoa, huh, Edward, what are you doing?”

As the Brit’s eyes remained slightly unfocused, Pierre took it upon himself to take over talking duty and went to pat the private on the shoulder. “Eh, don’t worry, Span. We’ve got hard heads, he’s fine. And if he’s not, he brought it on himself.”

The two very distinctly heard the venomous, growled, “I will end you all.” that Edward uttered against the wall.

“Good luck with that,” grumbled Bronze Chainmail as he climbed up the stairs of the basement. “The thestrals have turned in for the time being. And they’re notoriously ungracious when you wake them before their time.”

Edward rolled his eyes as he extricated his head from the sunken in wall. “Is anyone gracious when they’re rudely woken up?” And before Attention Span could even think of raising a hoof up, Edward glared hard enough to get the private to shrink back. “Whoever you’re thinking of doesn’t count.”

The young guard’s near constant smile slipped a few inches.

“Still a delight to be around, I see,” Bronze Chainmail grumbled, rolling his eyes at the bicorns.

“You look ecstatic to be here,” Pierre deadpanned. “Are you truly that tired of keeping watch outside the door?”

“The rotation system has begun. It’s only me and Private Span, right now. Sergeant Steel and Corporate Belfry have gone to sleep so they could be alert for their night shift.” The bronze stallion tapped his hoof against the carpeted floor. “This means I’m staying inside with Private Span to watch over you two.”

“Joy,” grumbled Edward as he trotted to the kitchen. He needed some tea for this.

--

She might have been getting some sleep at the time. Okay, who was she getting? It was sunset, most ponies were returning to their own humble abodes and all that. On hooves. So little air traffic. Of course Rainbow Dash had been taking a nap when the commotion below made her take off with a startled yelp.

Blushing, hoping nopony had seen or heard, the epic daredevil that she was looked down just in time to see a streak of pale yellow circle around a bunch of ponies on a corner, then shoot straight toward the end of the road.

“Fluttershy?!”

What was she even doing, running through Ponyville like that? Her friend slalomed between passing ponies, so fast even Rainbow Dash had trouble following her progress. The last time she’d seen such speed from Fluttershy, she’d heard of a dragon flying within sight of town.

It could only mean bad things. With one mighty flap of her wings, Rainbow Dash dove straight down and swooped just next to her fleeing friend.

“What’s going on, Fluttershy?!” she yelled over the whipping wind. “Is there an attack or something?!”

Rainbow’s eyes were darting around. She searched for a sign, any sign at all. Smoke. Flames. Screams. Panicking ponies. Something! Everything seemed as peaceful from down there as it had looked from the clouds. She would have allowed herself to relax, had it not been for the trails of tears running down her friend’s cheeks.

“No!” Fluttershy shouted with much greater strength than she usually showed. “It’s not anypony else! It’s me!”

Rainbow Dash knew that, had she been running, she would have faceplanted. The words had made her jerk in surprise, and her flight had fluctuated in height for a second there. “What? What are you talking about, Fluttershy?”

It couldn’t have been her! She knew Fluttershy. Had known her for a long time.

But Fluttershy’s face grew red with a flush, and she shook her head, pink strands of her mane billowing in the wind. “I’m a monster!”

Dash suddenly couldn’t hear past the ringing in her ears. Her mind felt blank, and the words were there, laced with tears. The tears of her friend.

She landed in the path before her friend, glared daring the shy caretaker to keep going. And Fluttershy struggled to skid to a halt before a collision. Struggled, but succeeded, with her heartbeat out of control, and the pair of eyes still accusing her.

“Or, rather, lower than pets.” Animals weren’t pets to her, they were her friends. Always. Those she kept around, it was always with the intention of letting them come and go as much as they really wanted. Lower than pets.

Her bird friends always pecked at her cages, no matter how much she told them they couldn’t fly yet. She made them the nicest she could, layered them with soft fluffy feathers to make nests and plenty of food, and as many friends as would be comfortable. They kept pecking untill they were free.

“A gilded cage is still a cage.”

Bicorns needed help. Every book, every teacher, they said it. Bicorns needed their help to survive. To thrive. The populations were finally growing after decades of stagnating at dangerously low levels.

To help injured birds was to stop them from flying until they were healed. To help healthy birds was to open the cages.

Weren’t Edward and Pierre healthy bicorns? What was sick about them? Equestria had to help bicorns. Bicorns, as a whole. As a species. You couldn’t take care of a species as you would individuals. Nothing, Fluttershy realized. The answer to her question was nothing. Equestria cared for a sick species. It couldn’t care for healthy bicorns at the same time.

Healthy birds in cages would always try to escape their beautiful little prisons.

“Who said that?!” Rainbow Dash’s shout brutally brought her back to the present. “Who called you a monster?!”

“T-they didn’t say...” Fluttershy sobbed. “Rainbow, it’s my fault, I did this! I should have seen it before!”

“...‘They?’” she repeated with a sneaking suspicion.

Fluttershy had been coming from the East side of town. Very few ‘they’ came to mind when thinking about that part of Ponyville. Fluttershy had few friends outside of their circles, even less acquaintances that she would care to visit. Except...

Only the presence of her close friend near her prevented her take-off from being at Sonic Rainboom levels. And Rainbow Dash still felt the sound barrier wrap itself around her while she flew in a straight line toward the house Twilight had given them the coordinate to the day before.

She didn’t even slow down when the orange façade came into view. She simply flipped in the air, and barrelled into the front door hind legs first.

The ponies in the room startled, taken in by the explosive noise.

Her eyes fell onto Edward, the damnable stallion, reading casually at the table, a cup of tea waiting just a hoof away. And she saw red.

“You!”

--

In the dark, dank, depths of the basement the designated nocturnal disputants slept. Tempered Steel lay as if not a living being but a statue, unmoving, unphased and zen-like on his rough ill-sized cot. His slick silver streaked hair seemed to sparkle even in the nocturnal nesting grounds.

His companion for her part continued her battle against all conformity by hanging from the wooden rafters of the small basement, She swung lightly by her tail in the middle of the room. Like an ashen grey chandelier with a bronze finish. A content smirk graced Belfry’s lips as she slept, the type of smile one could only warrant when they believe themselves the victor over some arbitrary bout. This particular bout seeming to be with the likes of gravity itself.

Their sleep unfortunately was to be interrupted, as the thunderous yells from above pierced the walls and ceiling with great ease. Rainbow Dash and Ed’s argument had quickly escalated into a battle for vocal domination. This match woke the poor dangling corporal as she, in a startled and groggy panic, fell from her perch in a mad attempt to deal with this unexpected threat.

Belfry shook herself and quickly scouted the gloomy room and, seeing no oncoming threat, looked back to her comrade. Tempered Steel for his part still lay on his cot one amber eye watching his subordinate.

“Sir?” Belfry asked the stoic sergeant.

Steel gave a single nod and watched as the fiery mare dashed up the stairs and up to the next floor.

Belfry winced at the light and the noise before turning and running into the main room. There she saw an angry Edward with both Pierre and Span standing in front of him blocking his path and an even angrier Rainbow Dash who hovered above the group glowering down at the trio.

“Privates, what is the situation?” Belfry barked, only for Attention Span to look back at her eyes wide in confusion.

“Ms. Dash broke down the door and demanded that Pierre and Edward go apologize for bullying Ms. Fluttershy,” Attention Span explained, snapping to a half hearted attention.

Pierre was now looking back at Belfry too. However, Dash and Ed still watched each other, showing teeth, as if the two were about to delve into a battle to the death.

“The worst part is I don’t remember anypony bullying anypony, do you?” Span asked. “Maybe it happened before we took our shift? Unless it was the talk over tea. But that was more a political debate with lots of emotions!”

Belfry had heard enough.With two quick strides, she stood between the two parties. “Rainbow Dash, I’m going to ask you to stand down and explain yourself,” she said with an icy voice. “Now.”

Though her mane and her coat looked dishevelled, the thestral mare held her glare easily, her grin subtly flashing her fangs.

The pegasus’ feather trembled, and her rage still spilled from her magenta’s eyes. “You want to know what they did?! Those guys made my friend cry! I saw Fluttershy galloping through town like she was chased by a dragon, screaming that she was a monster! She said it was all her fault, and I know that’s a bunch of horseapples!” Edward’s sneer almost had her go ballistic! “You bastard! Fluttershy would never hurt anypony else, ever! You’re the ones that made her think that, I know it! Well, I’m not going to stand there and let you steamroll all over my friend because you think the horns on your heads make you special!”

“Funny how every one of you ponies keep going on and on about how special we think we are. Who do you think tells us we’re special?! As I recall it, you’re the one that said we had it good, delicate flowers only good for fucking and raising babies!”

Attention Span and Bronze Chainmail both jerked as Rainbow Dash nearly pulled them forward from her sheer strength. Her words were an angry screech, and if she could have, her hoof would have sunked in Edward’s face. “I already apologized for that!”

The Brit did not even flinch. Rather, he ran up closer, until their noses nearly touched. “And I don’t care about your apologies! Do I need to beat it into your pea-sized brain? We don’t care about your platitudes and your grievances. We don’t want to be ‘special’ or whatever the bloody hell you think we should be! No one has the right to tell us to be pretty little trophies for your guilty conscience to gush about. Not you, not Fluttershy, not Pinkie. If any of you were sorry, you would not sit on your arses and tell us. You’d show us, you’d prove it!”

Rainbow Dash heard but one thing. The wrong -- despite being accurate -- thing.

“You made Pinkie cry too?!”

Belfry’s hoof made solid contact with her forehead. “That’s it. Privates, throw her out. We’re not gonna be able to defuse this situation.”

She struggled. She fought them teeth and hooves and feathers and tail. The hallway nearly vibrated from the echoing clanks of strikes on metal and grunts of anger.

Had the thestral not been so tired, she would have thought to restrain the other participant of the shouting match. In her defense, she would later explain to Sergeant Tempered Steel, since when had anypony ever needed protecting from a bicorn?

Edward, fuming, blood pumping at yet another interaction with the rainbow-themed idiot, could not resist pouring hot sauce on the wound. And stab it again. “Next time, why don’t you ask your precious Fluttershy why she thinks she’s a monster? Are you that scared that she might be right?!”

It was a good thing Bronze Chainmail was both taller, bulkier and heavier than the bearer of Loyalty. Even his earth pony frame winced from the surge of anger that shook Rainbow Dash. “You buckers don’t deserve it!” her screams sounded raw, even as she clung to the door with all her might. “The Princesses shouldn’t lift a hoof for you motherbuckers! It’s not fair that you should get whatever the b--!”

The door slammed shut, and, by this point, both bicorns felt a smidge of disappointment that no limbs had been stuck in the doorway. They did however get to hear as Bronze Chainmail’s booming voice overpowered even the angered mare’s protests. Small vengeances.

Slowly, things seemed to settle inside the house. Edward, for one, could feel his blood pressure return to more reasonable levels. True, he had to deal with the visible disapproval of an irate bat, a still confused but less cheerful than usual new recruit, and his archenemy in all things. Perhaps he should care about that. But he wasn’t in a very caring mood as he so eloquently told the rainbow menace.

“Aren’t you going to tell me off again, Frenchie?” he scowled, his tone biting. “You’re clearly stewing on it.”

But his friend merely shook his head, the maroon fur on his chin trembling.

“We’re becoming breeding stock!” Pierre exploded, startling Span and Belfry on his right. “It’s not for fun! Are all ponies thick and a bunch of crétins aveugles qui ne peuvent même pas trouver leur cul avec une carte, trois boussoles et des vivres?! We have to get as many foals as possible, without any kind of say in the matter! Nevermind that we’re the ones raising children we didn’t want! A fifth of which will likely die from a genetic disease!”

“But you do get a say, Pierre,” Span timidly tried while glancing to the silhouettes on the other side of the front door. “I mean, there are the centers and the adoption process and all those other ways to deal with it without entering a herd.”

“Then why can’t we say ‘no’?”

Attention Span’s mouth opened, then closed. The young stallion appeared lost, one hoof in the air as if to make a statement, but frozen before it could come. “Well, it’s… huh… ” He scratched the back of his head. “Think of it like joining the guard, risking a lot for your fellow Equestrians. It’s a noble sacrifice.”

Edward audibly facehoofed. Less audibly, he spat some curses and something that Bronze, coming back from outside with a dark look on his face, understood as ‘moron doesn’t get it’.

Pierre’s reaction was less gracious. “Were you forced to join?!”

To their collective surprise, Attention Span scratched the back of his head, ruffling a few strands of red mane under his helmet. “Well, I wouldn’t say forced, but Mama’s side of the family were all in the Royal Guard or in the police force, so it was a bit expected of me. I guess it doesn’t really matter too much, since I like it.”

They would have said something to that. They meant to. But their ears caught a chilling laugh as it rose from Belfry’s lung.

It sounded as if she had swallowed shards of glass and sandpaper. A less joyful laughter the two men had never heard before. And when it came to an end, Belfry wiped a bitter tear from her eyes. “You two really get on my nerves, you know that? Always complaining about getting a governmentally-funded cushy life. It’s like seeing foals throwing a tantrum after only getting the second best treat in the whole damn baking shop when there’s a couple of ponies starving outside.”

Pierre and Edward bristled, the latter’s chest puffed and his eyes narrowed.

“To answer your question, Pierre. No, I didn’t have a choice,” she said slowly, spitting the words with the hope they could burn themselves in the bicorns’ faces. “It was that or unemployment.”

The embers of anger in their eyes did soften, to their credit. They were held back, smoldering, still hot, but without quite as much of the edge. For the first time, the two seemed to look at one of their captors with a hint of compassion.

“Well, I’m sorry for that. I don’t really know the whole story, but, eh bien, sounds like it sucks to have been you. Still, you really think we should just be glad with this lot in life? Really? Just keep our head down and do what is expected of us, because that’s how it is. After all, others do.” The mare’s frown darkened while Pierre gestured in her direction. By the end of it, she seemed to wish she had let Rainbow Dash get to the two bicorns. “How happy are you, exactly?”

A few droplets of blood pearled at the tip of Belfry’s bitten lips. “I don’t have a choice,” she ground out.

“No, no, don’t worry, we get it, Belfry,” added Edward with a cold look. “Better mock the people that do want change than try for yourself. Called us cowards before, didn’t you? But I’m not sure we’re the ones you wanted to tell that to.”

Belfry slowly brought her gaze to meet his, her sneer frozen on her face. She trotted until she was inches from him, and there she hissed between her fangs, “Cowards run from their fate, Edward.”

Her tail slapped him as she turned her back on the stallions.

The door to the basement slammed close with such violence that one painted frame on the wall fell to the ground.

The four stallions stared back after her in uncomfortable silence. Attention Span coughed once or twice, though with him, it was hard to tell if he meant to say anything or truly clear his throat.

“Déjà vu,” muttered Bronze.

Pierre’s sole reaction was a long sigh. “Yeah, yeah, we should be kinder to our prison guards. We know. They are ponies with feelings and it doesn’t matter what they think of us. It’s not like she hates us for being ‘privileged’, right?”

Bronze remained carefully neutral, bringing about another sigh. Head hung low, Pierre headed upstairs, followed by the younger of the guards. He didn’t seem to have the energy for a glare, or even a frown.

Edward’s gaze, however, appeared thoughtful, his eyes boring a hole into the door to the basement. “Running from fate, or something else?”

--

The door to the basement slammed close with such violence that one portrait frame on the wall fell to the ground.

Belfry dashed down the stairs, teeth grinding as she repeated the scene over and over in her head. She shouldn't have fought them, she should have just walked away. It was unprofessional, stupid, she repeated over and over in her head as she went.

Tempered Steel though still in his cot stared at the angered mare with cold unwavering objectivism. “So?” he asked, tearing the mare from her thoughts and draining the emotion from her so quickly most might miss it.

“The situation has been dealt with,” Belfry said pointedly as she flapped off of the ground and made her way to the rafters.

Tempered’s gaze followed her, his dark vision not just piercing the shadows of the room but the very shadows Belfry tried to hide away in. “You let them rattle you.” It wasn’t a question.

Sergeant Tempered Steel had seen a lot in his career, he’d seen Thestrals get mistreated, ostracized and belittled to the point that even his patience waned. But he never snapped. If he had, all those that looked down on him would know they had the power.

“I just couldn’t stand there and act like he is the only one who hates his lot in life?” Belfry said, more to herself than to her commanding officer. She sat glaring into the wall, her form trembling slightly. Though in rage, annoyance, self reflection or pain, Tempered couldn’t say.

“Him?” he asked, a single brow rising just a hint. He might not be the best at reading the fairer sex, but Tempered remembered two bicorns upstairs.

Belfry jerked. “Them, I meant them,” she said though her voice hitched slightly in surprise.

“You’re agitated, both at them and yourself. Get some sleep corporal, we’ll have the entire night shift to find out just how badly your political quarrel hit,” Tempered said. His voice was clear but low, and though it was flatter than cardboard Belfry nodded to herself and obeyed.

“I’m sorry for acting so unprofessional, sir,” Belfry said, taking her hanging position and swaying as she adjusted her weight.

Tempered Steel didn’t respond and the room grew quiet and still. Yet as he lay in the dark, he wondered what exactly had gotten so deep under Belfry’s skin. He’d seen her face off against manticores and golems before. What in all the world could two unruly bicorns -- or “bicorn” -- do to break her so hard. As he drifted back to sleep, he decided to report it to the princess; she was a lot smarter than him, if not quite as practical.

--

With the library’s door locked for the night, Spike had naïvely thought that he would have at least time to put everything back in order. If anything, there would be a knock or the telltale sound of a key in the lock. So, he did let his mind drift a little while taking in the last lingering puffs of Rarity’s perfume. The young drake had not counted for the explosively loud noise of teleportation, nor the worrisome wobbling of a shelf half caught in it.

“Discord must be playing a joke on me! It’s not possible otherwise!” Purple light flashed again, and this time Twilight was looming over him, her mane decoiffed by either magic or sheer frustration. “I’ve put them under house arrest to let things settle down and give their new guards some time to get accustomed to their task! Why do I have twice as many problems with them now?!”

“T-Twilight?” Spike stuttered, quickly pushing the books Rarity had consulted in order. “What’s wrong?”

Luckily, his big sister seemed too frazzled to pay much attention to anyone besides herself. “What’s wrong is that I have to be dealing with the two most stubborn goatheads that I have ever met!”

Her horn illuminated the whole room and Twilight blinked out of sight. Another flash, and she was again next to the little drake, massaging her temples with her outstretched wings.

“Nothing they do seems to make sense! Not only has Rainbow Dash come by to ask me to pardon a fine over a fight she had with them, but Sergeant Tempered Steel also sent a small update earlier. Fluttershy and Pinkie made contact with them earlier, and they both left in tears.”

Spike’s eyes grew wide. “What?”

“Sergeant Steel believes that they have been convinced that the laws about bicorns are excessive, restrictive and suffocating. That to support them was a great evil and that they were hurting bicorns all over Equestria with their passivity. Now I have two friends to go comfort and reason with on top of a third that is begging for a temporary decree allowing for punches in bicorn faces.”

Yet the indignant squawk she had expected of her little brother didn’t surge forth. In fact, though with misty eyes and a flare of possessiveness in his posture, Spike appeared hesitant, thoughtful.

When bicorns reach sexual maturity, they are to be submitted to Health Screen’s Complete Diagnostic spell. Results will be used to determine genetic compatibility with other individuals. Exempts from the procedures are bicorns suffering from the Unluck Horn Disease. Those will be stamped out of records and be given a monthly stipend to cover expenses.

“And then what?” Rarity had asked Spike as much as the book. “What happens to those bicorns afterward?”

But they hadn’t found the answer. The book of law hadn’t seemed particularly interested on that subject matter.

Spike swallowed with some difficulty, his mouth having gone dry. “What did they say exactly?”

Twilight fell down on her couch with a slump and a sigh. “More of the same. That Equestria is wrong, bicorns are oppressed, that they should be free to do what they want without consequences and the likes.”

“You think...” Spike fiddled with his claws, brain still full of Rarity’s memory, of her doubts and careful frown. “Don’t you think they might have a reason for that?”

“I...” Twilight closed her mouth, her gaze on the cover of books on psychology. “Well, they do. Everypony has a reason to do something. Even Discord does things for his amusement. It’s not like that for them, but they’re being thoughtful about what they say. They just really hate that they have to conform to bicorns standards. And since they were foreigners, I would put money on them being abused in some ways before coming here.”

A glint of sadness shone in the emerald of Spike’s eyes. The poor young drake glanced back to the books he had read, and he recalled in great details the thoughtful looks Rarity had shown. “So, those two have had it really bad, right?”

“Worse, I’m sure. It’s the only explanation I can think of for their continued hostilities. I’ve looked over the records again and they really appeared out of nowhere. They must have both been born outside our borders, probably captured by some griffon warlord or a pack of diamond dogs at some point.” The few remnants of anger in her faded. Twilight gazed at her hooves, helpless. “I… I think they’re trying to push back. They were being so micromanaged before that now they just assert themselves on absolutely everything they can. It’s a common reaction in ponies that felt like they lost control of their lives.”

They had screamed at her, accused, growled, snarled, everything she could think of short of physical assault. She remembered being told that her charges, for whom things had seemed to be looking up, had escaped into the night. She remembered seeing the fire in the Everfree, and realizing that they had been that desperate.

The law had been rather explicit. Yes, she had been angered, immensely so, but she had not taken her next decision while angry. The law had been put in place by Celestia, looked over by a dozen judges. They had to be watched before they did something rash enough to get themselves killed.

Twilight startled when a small clawed-hand landed on her hoof.

Spike did not look his age at all then. The wisdom he carried seemed the burden of a full grown adult, and Twilight hated that her little brother couldn’t enjoy a normal foalhood. “So... they don’t want to have foals at all because of their past, even if it’s the law?”

“No, Spike, but they have to. We can’t just make an exception for them, no matter the kind of past they have. Everypony has to do their part, otherwise the whole system will collapse.” A few more books were shuffled in front of her eyes, none provoking a great reaction. “Perhaps it was a mistake to push for herds first. But they fit the profiles and they didn’t really seem to care and… I… I don’t know how to convince them anymore, Spike. They have to start contributing and Lucky Foals would be a real boon for the genetic pool these days.”

“Twilight... what’s the difference between that warlord and us?”

The books fell from her telekinetic grasp.

“...It’s… we care, Spike.” Her quiet tones suddenly grew in strength as Twilight rose to her hooves and started pacing. “Equestria cares for its bicorns. We do it to help their race. Not for our benefit.”

Spike, taking in the sight of his sister so dishevelled and muttering to herself, could almost believe that. There wasn’t much of a benefit to keep pushing and getting pushed back so hard. It hadn’t made Twilight or Rarity -- or none of their other friends, from what he had heard -- any happier. No, those bicorns were like pebbles at the top of a rocky hill. They had been pushed, and now a whole avalanche of hurt was being thrown around.

At his sister. At his friends. With a growl, his chest grew hot with dragonfire. It made his fist clench, and his thoughts on Rainbow’s proposition darkly agreeable.

“And then what? What happens to those bicorns afterward?” The law hadn’t said. For most of everything else, it did, but on bicorns that were not useful for breeding?

Doubt stayed his claws and cleared his mind.

He did hear Twilight, despite her dubious look, and the fact that she repeated her request. He had just… been playing a joke. But he was ready, scroll on desk, quill in inkpot, ears absolutely wide open.

His big sister cleared her throat, then began with a familiar tone.

“Dear Community Chief Cloven Print, through this scroll, I inform you that I, Princess Twilight Sparkle, will be visiting your reserve with two guests tomorrow.”

The quill made a scratch mark on the scroll, but Spike grinned and passed it off as nothing.