One Horn Too Many

The pony’s gaze swept across the dusty street and the barricaded houses. His muzzle scrunched up as he took in the dry morning air and hummed in disapproval. The town looked empty.

He looked at the discarded tools and vendors lying around at odd angles. Wherever the denizens had gone, they’d left in quite the hurry. Well, he’d not come this far simply to turn back at the first hurdle. His horn burst into a pulsating aura. Slowly, with practiced ease, the energy flowed out, encompassing all it touched.

Soft olive green light washed across the ground, floating lazily over the grass, then creeping up the houses’ walls. Minutes ticked by as the cloud of magic swept through the streets and the buildings of the town, and a subtle expression of displeasure carved itself on the unicorn’s face.

His magic was as blind and barren as the street the caster sat upon. Standing and stunting his magic, he chose the simpler solution: if the townsfolk wouldn’t come to him, he’d go to them instead.

The bearded pony smirked as he turned toward the isolated house, a quiet chime of bells ringing at the rim of his hat. The oaken door sat solid and well built, yet the simplest touch had it edge open. It made his smirk fade into something more thoughtful. Who would leave a door unlocked if they wanted to keep intruders out?

One of less skill might assume the residents were simply gone, but he wouldn’t be fooled by such dreck, No, there was somepony, within these walls, somepony with the answers he sought. Taking a confident stride into the domain, he gazed over the slightest and most pressing details. The home was simple, plain, all in wood and sheets, built for necessity and nothing more. it added credibility to the rumors of migration he had heard, but only confirmation straight from the mouth of a living specimen could make it absolute fact.

However, he thought as he looked down on the creaking floor, that does require this house to have been lived in. Once more, he let his gaze wash over the rooms. Where could they be? Suppose he wished to hide from a unicorn, where would he go?

With a scoff, Starswirl stepped into the hallway. If he were honest, most unicorns wouldn’t ever step in a place so remote from civilization in the first place. Their preoccupations were so much higher than the base living conditions of a pony tribe, like the importation of costly silk and spices from the Eastern Continent. Oh, that they were willing to fund without ends! If he had to listen to one more request about a mass teleportation spell, he would--

Hear the wood creak beneath somepony else’s hooves.

His heart skipping a beat, Starswirl forgot his ire and jumped into a gallop toward the end of the hallway. In that short moment, his cautions and his restraints had faded, for the prize of his quest might be so, so close. That room on the right end, that was where it had come from!

In a swirl of cape of hat, the old mage span to face the open doorframe, and felt his eyes shrink in shock at the pair of hooves shooting straight at his muzzle.

A chime rang when they collided with a shimmering green wall, and Starswirl’s horn burned hotter as a whip of light swerved to strike back. An old trick, he smirked to himself, one that had won him many duels from the spell’s sheer velocity. The rippling line lashed like a thunderbolt, and burnt off naught but mere strands of the attacker’s coat.

Starswirl’s mind buckled. That was not possible! The pony had ducked underneath a blow that should have been faster than their reflexes could have. Even pegasi had fallen for that!

A large shadow fell over his face, and with a start, he realized he had been transfixed an instant too long. His attacker loomed over him, standing on his hind legs, his horns aimed for a blunt strike.

“Shofar! Peace!”

The stallion stilled, his forehead and horns inches away from a conjured shield. His eyes narrowed on the mage behind it, before the bicorn stepped back.

From behind him, two more ponies trotted closer. Starswirl’s brows furrowed, a small bead of sweat pearling at the tip of his mane, and he shot suspicious glances at both his attacker and the newcomers.

The aggressive one looked hardly old enough to be past his twenties, as did the somewhat mousy mare that was coming closer. The two exchanged a meaningful silent exchange, their faces shining with worry, and Starswirl thought he understood. Lovers? Siblings? One of the two surely.

But the third bicorn was grey, from old age and weariness. His steps were lighter, his movements quieter and in his gaze, Starswirl saw more than in any other pony. This one… knew.

“Forgive my son-in-law,” the elderly stallion started in a clear, vibrant voice, “he meant to protect us.”

“Even so, I'd prefer if his protection did not end in my injury, or more likely, his own. Might I ask why you were in such a rush to attack a guest?”

“It’s in our nature, for as long as we have wandered Equestria, other ponies have thought us acolytes of Discord. We have been shunned and thus we avoid those who would assume such evils of us.”

“You were created by Discord’s magic, were you not?” Starswirl asked, passing around the older stallion eyeing him up and down like he would a prized pet.

“It is not that simple, it’s not like we chose this fate,” the mare behind the elder growled, glaring balefully at the stallion as he finished his lap around his first subject.

“Simple, of course it isn't simple,” Starswirl said, straightening to his full, but rather slim size. “Do you have any idea what magical forces it would take to be able to transmogrify this many ponies? No, no you wouldn’t,” he added more to himself, fidgeting endlessly with the rim of his jingling hat.

Starswirl watched as the anger that had been directed so hastily at him was replaced with a confused and contemptuous look that showed just how little faith in his knowledge the mare had.

“Does that even matter? It doesn’t change what happened to us, or the fact nopony has so much as tried to help us,” the younger stallion said as he stood in front of his wife, his face a mirror of his spouse’s.

The corners of Starswirl’s lips twitched upward. The last time he had been challenged, that arrogant lad had not half as noble a reason as the simple bond between those two twin-horned lovers. Perhaps the whispers he had heard, the softer, less popular ones, had their own grain of truth to them. However, before either he or the lovers could speak again, the elder bicorn brought down all his strength and stomped the sanded wood beneath him.

“That is enough, you two. While it is true most have chosen to hide from what they do not understand, this stallion has openly sought our audience. Exactly as I told you he would.”

Starswirl’s ears twitched, and his gaze studied the wizened stallion.

“B-but, father! You can’t mean this was the one you were so excited about,” the mare said, casting a wary glance back at Starswirl, who had seemed to have forgotten that her or her husband were even there.

“I do,” he whispered, his voice and his eyes strained, “a stallion whose every step breeds a chime of hope, and seeks a way, at the crossroads of a brand new day. Those exact words have echoed in my dreams for weeks; if this is not that stallion, then nopony is.”

Starswirl sat, mulling over these words, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This old dual horned stallion spoke as if could cast a scrying spell, or had a way to see through time. Out of all the rumors he’d heard, none said that bicorns could wield magic. It was impossible, wasn’t it? Magic was the exclusive domain of unicorns.

Now, more than ever, he could not leave emptyhoofed!

Once again, the graying bicorn surprised him, and a spark of understanding ignited in his smile. “Yes, I believe it is decided then. Come with us, so you can be introduced properly.”

Starswirl’s muzzle scrunched up, a pang of irritation growing in his chest. He was not used to being cut so short in conversations, and the strange aura of knowing his contemporary cultivated felt equally familiar and grating. And was that a twinkle of amusement, in the elder bicorn’s eyes?

Growling, grumbling, he nodded sharply, and the bicorns headed straight for the door, the two younger ones refusing to look in his direction. With a grimace on his lips, Starswirl followed them back into the depressingly empty streets. But as the dry air washed over his coat and his cape, the archmage felt a tingling sensation at the back of his neck. Was he being watched? he wondered. Discreetly, his gaze scanned his surroundings, and this time. he caught sight of them, in glimpses of colors through the opening of windows or doors. Everytime, the ponies slipped back to their hiding place. Twice, he saw an empty doorframe staring back at him, and he could have sworn there had been somepony there. And it clicked, some could tell when he would look.

A small shiver of anticipation ran up his spine, and Starswirl’s steps became swifter behind his guide. He was being led to a plaza of sort. Their little group of four stopped by a rudimentary well. Starswirl’s three companions moved no further, and waited. Not for long. Slowly, bicorns poured out of most houses, and formed a large circle around them.

Whispers spread throughout the assembled bicorns, suspicions rising higher at the sight of the stranger in the company of their old sage. A few bolder ones stepped closer, their glares boring a hole through Starswirl’s skull, but they stopped short of breaking line outright. This was not yet their fight, but judging by the pawing and the lowered horns on some heads, it seemed more a matter of time. Subtly, his hat obscuring the glow of his horn, Starswirl prepared a few spells, just in case.

“Brothers, sisters, I am glad to see that you have gathered,” called the old bicorn with a loud and clear voice. Eyes trailed off to follow him and the hoof that he aimed at the lone unicorn. “What is happening on this day is unprecedented. This is a stallion that wishes to learn of us, to understand us.”

A heavy silence fell on the assembly. The crowd staring at the older stallion dressed in his cape and hat, a group of thoughts and opinions formed as each collected themselves. For so long they’d had to hide, and now one of those who had cast them into obscurity stood before them, mocking the mass of ponies with his very presence. And slowly, the sparks of fear and anger spread from one pony to the other as the sea of whispers came into a crescendo.

Starswirl’s legs tensed as he heard one mare, more brazen than the others, shout “He’s an outsider, one of them! Run him out of town before he attacks us like all the rest!”

Frantic, he scanned the faces around him for the one most likely to come forward and attack. If he was meant to continue this quest, he would need to earn their respect, one way or another.

“Peace,” suddenly cried out another mare, and to Starswirl’s surprise, he recognized her, no longer hesitant and hiding behind her lover. “Father’s knows what he’s doing! Please, calm down! Your fears are misplaced!”

Her words struck at the crowd. Incredulity painted itself on their faces, and on their lips was the same whisper. How so? What made this different from every other encounter with outsiders? They would come, the pegasi, the unicorns or the earth ponies. They would come wielding burning hatred for the Chaos Spirit and cold steel for their flesh. Abominations! Monsters! Chaos Spawns! What would this greying unicorn say today? What would he growl while looking down on their foals and their friends?

And the eyes that turned to Starswirl then burned with such hatred he felt his magic flicker. Every single one of his instincts were telling him to unleash his spellwork, to bear down his magical might on their frames and make them flee. Teeth gritted together, the mightiest archmage of Equestria calculated.

But then came a gentle trotting sound, and an unthreatening presence arrived at his sides. Starswirl glanced and his eyes met a pair of light brown ones.

“We will let you join our town, and observe and record whatever you see fit, but in return, you are not to wield your magic while amongst us,” the elder said, his voice silencing all others, even though he barely raised it a single octave. The crowd, looked on shocked, but not nearly as taken aback as the mage who sat slack jawed before the elder.

No magic? What sort of madness would compel him to ever agree to a demand like this one? He easily pictured the royal court, hearing the words and descending into arguments over the indignity of such a repulsive condition. Yes, those fools would rather close away their only path to knowledge and success if it meant never ‘lowering’ themselves to act as every other pony tribe.

And quite suddenly, Starswirl had to fight the impulse to grin. Foalish, of course, but this would certainly serve to shut up one Traditional Values and her endless posturing. Before he quite understood what he was doing, he lowered his head into a respectful bow. “I am merely a stranger requesting your hospitality and your acceptance. It would be unworthy to protest a request as simple as this one.”

There, this should suffice to fulfill the right courtesy, and hopefully ease the villagers’ mind toward his quest. No unicorn Starswirl had ever known would have accepted, not amidst complete unknowns. As he looked up however, he noticed a complete lack of surprise or fear in his interlocutor’s eyes.

“So you accept this offer?” the elder asked, the crowd of onlookers standing skittishly behind him. “You give your word that you will not summon your magical power while within our town’s wall?”

A small voice at the back of his head whispered that this request was not purely for the graying stallion’s benefit. The other bicorns stared at him with fear, hidden to varying degrees. He had yet to see a single foal amongst them, which he understood on some level. His reputation might have preceded him. If Starswirl the Bearded made a choice, nopony in Equestria could stop him.

However, it was not as if he had any intent of hurting anypony. This was too good an opportunity to learn more about such an anomaly. Starswirl’s heart pounded in his chest, the mere implication that he would get to experience what no other scholar, mage, or for that matter, pony had ever gotten to study before had him positively ecstatic.

“Of course I do, you said before you saw a future where I would be a vital part in your entire race’s future. Who am I, as a mage of this great empire, or a pony of any character to turn down such a role?”

The elder nodded silently, then turning to his people, he smiled fondly. Though they were scared, he knew that with time, they would grow to see just how special this day would mean.

--

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Puppet Soldier over there hasn’t been sacked for his mistake last night.” The words made Chainmail’s ears twitch, but he kept his gaze forward.

“He does refuse to look you in the eyes though,” Edward added with some touch of amusement.

“You know what? I don’t even care anymore,” his friend sighed.

“Then that is just another victory for them.”

Pierre’s face scrunched up, the words striking him more than he wanted to admit. He never really was a man for stupid petty conflicts, present company excluded, though he could not quite stop the bitter taste of resentment from filling his mouth at the thought of their futures. Then again, he no longer was a man, was he?

His eyes narrowed on the burnt orange stallion, on his armor that shone well in the morning light and the cutie mark on his flanks. A roman-like helmet shifted on Chainmail’s fur, and a scornful thought came to Pierre’s mind. Yeah, a protector, right.

As if feeling the inquisitive eyes trailing him, Chainmail looked back and his gaze locked with Pierre’s. There was little in the way of emotion amidst those dark brown pools, so unlike earlier in the hospital room. He was guarded, almost stoic, and were it not for a slight tension in the stallion’s jaw, Pierre might have believed it.

“Don’t waste your time, soap dodger,” Edward’s words cut his train of thoughts. “He’s never going to let go of his strings.”

The guard flinched, his shoulders tensing. Pierre almost protested then, but the accusation of selfishness still clung to his skin. Chainmail didn’t deserve any word to his defense.

“We’re here,” the guard said.

As they walked around the corner of the street, the two bicorns noticed a small number of ponies waiting just in front of their house. At the front, the unmistakable presence of certain princess, speaking to those assembled near her. And, this they realized with a small spike of their heartbeats, every other pony wore an uniform not unlike Chainmail’s.

“You have got to be kidding me?! You didn’t really call up more overbearing guards, did you?” Ed called loudly, eyes flicking between the new faces.

“It’s not as if you gave me much choice. You continously act recklessly and Chainmail has been proven too little security to guarantee your protection,” Twilight said, her face a smug grin, as she looked over the three new guards. Chainmail for his part remained stalwart, refusing to meet anypony’s eyes.

“Given how little he cares, not that surprising,” Pierre huffed. “Qui gardera les gardes? And all that.”

“Well, somepony is a little pissy. Good to know.” The sole female guard laughed.

Stung, Pierre couldn’t hold it in and lashed out. “Suce ma queue!”

“What’s the matter?” the mare asked in a cold, biting tone. “Scared to insult me in a language I know?”

Pierre’s eyes went between her and the princess. Something strange passed in his gaze, an unfamiliar calculating light, and he suddenly drawled, “Wow, really? Twilight, I know you hated me and all that is good in the world, but you went and got us a female Edward? You bitch...”

“Dude, I will strangle you,” the Brit said. Glaring at Pierre, with one hoof, he pointed at the staring mare, and stomped. “She is nothing like me, just a snarky bat.”

Pierre smirked. “Ah, clearly, the fact that you are a snarking, assholish goat suffices to make you very different people.”

“Look, we have known each other quite a while, she has literally said two words to you and you assume she is my twin. Please, go fuck yourself, thank you.”

A sly, mischievous grin on his face, the French stallion ignored his simmering friend and looked at the guards assembled. “You, miss bat, are you dismissive of everything people feel or is that just a passing trend?”

The mare’s amber eyes glittered for a second with something akin to amusement, and she opened her mouth, her fangs sharp as the reply she wanted to throw back, but a flash of light cut her short.

“That is enough, all of you! Pierre, Edward, please take a seat,” Twilight barked, catching the attention of the squabbling duo. Grumbling, they sat down on the small wooden bench on their front lawn. Once they were both seated and attentive, she nodded and her wing flared toward the guards. “Good, now may I introduce you to your new, day and night shift protection?”

“No please, by all means, I’m dying to know the names of my jailers,” Ed said, rolling his eyes, and flailing a limb in an exaggerated prompt.

Ignoring her charge, as it seemed to be the best way to deal with his sarcasm, Twilight turned and smiled sweetly at the guards. “Now, one at a time, would you introduce yourself and tell us your station? A good introduction can do wonders for ponies interactions.”

“Oh, of course, let me,” The new solar guard stepped up, giving a wide smile, and high spirited salute. “My name is Attention Span, I’m a private, and I’m super happy to be here.” The spry private gave a bow before turning and motioning for his dark counterpart to step up.

The second guard was a large grim looking batpony; his eyes drifted across the room, his form seeming to coil at every movement and shadow. “Tempered Steel, sergeant in the Night guard,” he said flatly, before stepping back and giving a gruff grunt.

The final guard, the female bat guard stepped up, an easy smile and bored look on her face. She nodded to the princess and glanced at the two bicorns. “My name is Belfry. I’m a corporal, a real pleasure. Oh, and to answer Prenchy’s little outburst earlier, I speak my mind, it’s not my problem if you can’t handle what I have to say."

Briefly, Pierre’s eyes widened in surprise, and he put a hoof to his mouth. A sound like muffled laughter came out. “You don’t say?”

The look he gave Edward was that of smug superiority.

“I know where you sleep, you little shite,” Edward hissed.

Pierre looked unimpressed. “We are sleeping in the same house, crétin.”

A gray hoof nearly pushed him to the ground. “Anytime you want to go, you wanka.”

“That is enough!” A purple aura pushed them apart, and from their sides, Twilight sighed. “All you two do is bicker. I can’t figure out how you two are friends, let alone how you willingly decided to run off to the Everfree together.”

Edward’s muzzle twisted into a sneer. “It’s simple. We hate you more.”

Snickering, Belfry sauntered up between the stallions and put her legs around their necks. “I have a feeling foalsitting you two is going to be a lot of fun.”

Edward stepped away from the mare, repressing a shiver. “Yeah, cause everyone loves spending time with a mare who has bats in her belfry.”

“Never heard that one before,” Belfry deadpanned, and turned to her princess while he scoffed to himself.

Princess Twilight seemed to be debating whether to let that altercation slide or scold them for it. At this point, they were making her doubt their ability to control their mouths at all. Perhaps that was a venue she should consider...

Blinking, she shook her head and focused on the more important matters. “Now, starting from today, you three will be aiding Bronze Chainmail in his task of protecting the two bicorns known as Edward Finch and Pierre Delarue. Tempered Steel is to take charge of this mission and shifts will be left to his discretion. In addition, take note that both Edward and Pierre are to be kept in house arrest indefinitely, until I rescind this order.”

She expected protests, angry shouts and cynical destructive comments then. So she had already formed proper arguments in her head to rebuke them, knowing their strange and strong tempers. With any luck, her words would reach them this time, perhaps sinking in once they had time to properly reflect on them in their home away from any sort of toxic influence...

And that flicker of hope, that small spark in her chest was blown away with one look at them. Edward and Pierre both stood completely still, not even making a sound. But their eyes, oh their eyes burned. They held such hatred then that she felt her heart jump in her throat. For a fleeting moment, her instincts urged her to teleport away, or risk staying anywhere near those stallions that wished their glares could murder.

Her guards moved in a flurry of armors and muscles, placing themselves around the alicorn and the two bicorns. Bronze Chainmail glared them down, a snarl on his face, but the other three surrounded Pierre and Edward with a bit more caution, at three hoof’s lengths. For a tense moment, the guards waited in hopes their charges wouldn’t prove violent, and none moved. Until one optimistic, idealist guard gently placed a hoof on the maroon bicorn’s shoulder and shook his head.

A dozen emotions passed over Pierre’s face, and a meter away, on Edward’s. Tight restraint battled over with anger and fear in flashes, and the sight squeezed at one princess’ heart, yet the two prisoners relaxed, and were led inside in silence. Of the last Twilight saw of them that day were a pair of icy blue eyes glaring a hole through her skull.

--

Pierre laid on the soft covers of his bed with a pensive look on his face. He had not been able to stay downstairs very long, not when the constant bickering between Edward and Belfry were giving him a proper headache. The irony was not lost on him, hard to when they had both pointed it out as he left the living room. And better yet, the other batpony had insisted on following him upstairs.

It truly seemed like they weren’t going to be left alone anymore. Turning, Pierre tried to ignore the stallion near the door and glanced at the single clock above. It was all he had to look at.

The bareness of his bedroom’s walls felt incredibly impersonal. There was nothing of him in that room, it was more akin to a college room before anyone had moved in. All necessities, neutral. It made him feel the loss of his home with an acute pang of nostalgia in his chest. He missed his old things, heck his own messes even, his old life...

Pierre’s face slowly fell as he turned his gaze to the window showing the outside world. Ah! He’d already started thinking of their ‘home’ as a prison. Great going, he congratulated himself. Finally a logical reaction. And the few ponies wandering down in the streets below looked all so blissfully oblivious, all so happy. They didn’t care about bicorns, regardless of how much they said they did.

“Say, is there any rule against inviting ponies here?"

The larger stallion watched him passively. “Who and why?’”

Pierre smiled sheepishly, as if confessing to a small shame. “I wished to talk to Miss Rarity again, about my suit. It needed a few adjustments and I thought I should take care of that as soon as possible.”

“If they are willing, they may come.”

At that, Pierre suppressed a grimace. If Twilight had had the time to say anything to her friends… He buried his face into his hooves, groaning.

Tempered Steel’s features softened, and his lips twitched into the shadow of a smile. His voice became surprisingly soft. “Relax. My job does not include passing judgment on you. Regardless of what you do.”

Pierre’s ears ticked at that. Well, that was a fatherly scolding if he ever heard one. And, looking up to see his bodyguard’s gentle urging, he felt a bit more red go to his cheeks. “Right, okay… I know I’ve been on a short fuse today. I’ll apologize later. It’s been a terrible night and I just about had it with all the bullshit ponies throw at us.”

“We only want to protect you,” came the rehearsed line. Tempered Steel had not hesitated for a second... Damn him for making it sound sincere!

“Right, I forgot. Everything ponies do or say about bicorns is merely to help them thrive as a species. Sorry, I was questioning the dogma and that is wrong.” Pierre frowned at the stoic unresponsive guard. A bit more hotly, he added, “There is nothing wrong with putting ponies under house arrest for leaving the town! Nothing whatsoever! That’s what you think, right?!”

For sole reaction, Tempered Steel levelled a neutral glance at him, then shuffled in his place to stretch his wings. Not a word came out of him, and Pierre suddenly had to fight a blush.

“No judgment, right.” He deflated and sighed. Why was he getting embarrassed like an unruly child being put in his place? This was ridiculous! Biting his lips, he waved a hoof toward the door. “I suppose you won’t be the one to carry the invitation...?”

A corner of the batpony’s mouth very slightly twitched. “If you stay downstairs while I go.”

--

He had come downstairs to a scene not unlike what he had imagined, namely Edward and Belfry attempting to flatten the other with biting sarcasm and careful indifference. Briefly, the sight of them brought a smug grin to his face, just long enough to be noticed by one curious Attention Span.

Despite himself, Pierre’s tail twitched and he lowered his gaze. From the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of Edward storming off, a long series of British expletives flowing out of his mouth at high speed. The dark purple mare chuckled, and trotted after him.

His face heating up slightly, Pierre levied his gaze at Attention Span. “I apologize for my outburst earlier. I was too on edge and reacted inappropriately.”

The young stallion’s face lightened up as he trotted to place himself next to his charge.

“Hey, that’s okay, we all have our moments. You haven’t seen angry till you’ve had to deal with a high ranking pony that takes out his ugly month on you. Heck, I’ve been there! I remember this one time in basic training, there was this cadet who liked to pick on me. I got so mad, I just started yelling... it was awful,” Attention Span said, laughing at the memory.

Pierre could not help but smirk at that. It seemed rather mild if he had merely shouted at one of his tormentors. “It could happen to anyone, Span,” he replied mildly, his own behavior coming back to mind.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t sweating a bit, thinking on how things might unfold with Chainmail next. The guy seemed the type to take his job very seriously, and his ranting had been a blow to his pride and his motivations. If that turned to resentment, it would really make their lives miserable… well, more than it already was. For now, there was no sign of the orange stallion’s presence on the first floor or the second. Was he standing watch outside?

Perhaps they’ve noticed the damages to the bush underneath Ed’s window? he wondered. That could explain why a guard had followed him to his room. That could also explain why, right in the face of complete rejection, Belfry was shadowing Edward everywhere he tried to go. Though, to be fair, she would likely do that regardless of orders.

“Say,” Attention Span cut in, “do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Sure, I guess...” Pierre shrugged in spite of his wariness.

“Why are you pushing those two together? I thought you were friends. And against relationships.”

He almost laughed out loud.

“Actually, I just find it refreshing to see someone who can match snark with Edward.” Pierre’s eyes followed his friend as he stormed off the kitchen and sat down at a desk at the far end of the room. “That, and it annoys him.”

Attention Span shot him a strange look, confused, trying to figure out if that was a joke. Had it been about something else, Pierre probably would have been self-conscious, but in this instance, it slid off his back easily. Nopony seemed to really get the kind of hostile friendship he shared with Edward. So he shrugged and dropped down onto the couch. Crazy obsessive behavior asides, Twilight did have good taste in sofas. Oh yes, in his current state, he could compare with the standard hospital bed that had left his back feeling crooked, and their couch was indeed superior. Slowly, his head sank into the cushion, and Pierre’s eyes fluttered close.

His mind drifted somewhat as the heat of the sun’s ray washed over his coat of fur. A smile spread his lips apart. He could almost smell the cinnamon in the air, when the baker pulled the rolls out of the oven early on, and Pierre felt an ache in his chest when he realized the name of the bakery had slipped out of his mind. Monsieur Depardieu swore loudly, and laughed loudly, and did everything with a fierce joviality, and he was easy to remember, but what was the name of his daughter, with her white apron and her face sometimes covered in flour? What else had he forgotten?

And Pierre’s smile faded, his look more a thoughtful anger. It was a strand of his mane on his face, not his hair. It was no blanket, but his fur. More like… the neighbour’s dog. That thing drove him nuts, barking at every hour of the day or night. But he almost missed it, if only...

Their door slammed opened like the crack of thunder.

He fell to the ground with a loud crashing noise, and the poor stallion blinked away stars. To his addled mind, the shadow in their doorframe looked blurred. And yet he did recognize her, in some distant part of his mind when her voice rang loud and clear, half-triumphant, half-panicking.

“I came here as fast as I could!”

Pierre barely had time to blink, and then he was being dragged upstairs, led by a hoof glowing blue. Stuttering, the poor stallion felt his legs get tangled in the haste of their movement. Oh Seigneur! His hoof caught the edge of a step and he barely managed not to trip.

Worse yet, he could feel Tempered Steel breathing at his back, his eyes likely watching Rarity very carefully. In her haste to restore a work of fashion, she had forgotten to be, perhaps, a bit more gentle. When she let go of him and he was allowed a moment to sit down unharmed, his sigh of relief was not for himself alone.

“Dear oh dear, what ever happened?” The mare looked at the outfit frantically, up and down, searching for the flaw that required her touch. “Tell me, darling, what has gone wrong with your suit?!”

And Pierre suddenly thanked his lucky star Edward had no knowledge of his ploy. How over-the-top would his British friend’s sneer be, if he realized that Pierre had not thought that far ahead.

“Oh, well, it’s...” He cleared his throat and bought himself a few more precious seconds to think up a reason for her presence. “It’s not the suit itself so much as it was the… style.”

Rarity did a double take. “...The style?”

“Yes, it was a bit too fancy. Like, my date didn’t even wear clothes so I was a bit overdressed. And everywhere I went, ponies turned around to stare.” Which, of course, couldn’t have been because they were a bicorn couple, noooooo. “I like the colors! Really, I do!” He raised his hooves in front of him. “But perhaps if you could make it a little less fancy, that’d be great.”

Rarity hummed, deep in thoughts as she began to circle him. She considered his built, his nervous look, and something seemed to click behind her eyes. With a quiet gasp of inspiration, the seamstress lifted the gem-covered suit from its coat-hanger. “Oh, I believe I do see the problem. Yes, yes, a touch too much here, and there, so if I were to redo the stitch around the withers, then...”

She went on for a few more instants - seconds, minutes? -, and Pierre had to resist the urge to squirm. With three ponies in the small bedroom, the temperature in the air seemed to have risen.

Gulping down, Pierre glanced at Tempered Steel in the background. The batpony’s amber eyes had not left him since coming back, and he dared not make a move toward the window. Not that he wanted to, he had something else in mind, but damn if he didn’t feel caged up at this point.

Seigneur Dieu, he hoped this worked!

His heartbeat quickened as soft fabric pressed against his chest. Rarity’s magic tingled his fur, and he stiffened in response. Had his thoughts showed on his face? They were definitely screwed if one of their guards figured out what he was trying to do. His smile widened to the point it hurt.

Rarity, deep in thoughts, overlooked his wooden show of innocence entirely.

“Hmm, I would need to redo a few stitches to modify it to your tastes.” Her gaze went up and met his. Their serious was almost enough to make Pierre feel taken back. She spoke almost without an accent, so focused she was. “...Are you certain you want me to do this? It’ll be much harder to return your suit to its previous state if I go through with it.”

Just the day before, she had been ecstatic for him and had all but carried him to the date he had himself agreed to. Somber, he pushed down the bubbling guilt in his chest and nodded.

“Very well,” Rarity said quietly, and began to work.

At first, the fitting unfolded as his last meeting with her had. Her eyes looked at him critically, professionally, and she muttered things under her breath he did not catch. That little formality done, an image of sort had been formed in her mind, and she dressed him to start the work proper. The most recent events fresh in his mind, Pierre’s body was tense as a chord. It luckily did not impair her work, albeit she did frown ever so slightly.

A small part of him wanted nothing more than to relax. After all, he was getting dressed by Rarity for the second time. How many bronies wished they could say the same? Back home-

Back home, Pierre thought with a flinch.

“I’m sorry, darling. Did I pinch you?” At the shake of his head, she smiled in relief. Her horn flashed briefly as the laces on his chest tightened. “And how did that date of yours go? Did you dazzle that mare with your Prench charms?”

“I wish.” Pierre sighed wistfully, lost for a second at his recollection of Fortune. “I was completely awkward during dinner and had no idea what to say that didn’t make me sound crazy or perverted. At least the walk around town afterward was nice.”

“Our little town does have its charms.” Rarity nodded knowingly. “Where did you go?”

“We trotted around the marketplace mostly. There were plenty of stalls, and the things they sell were interesting.” Then, without prompting, Pierre added softly, “I bought Fortune a tulip. She loved it.”

“My, my,” Rarity giggled and nudged him playfully, “is it just me or did that sound like a certain mare had stolen your heart?.”

Pierre’s tail twitched violently, and he looked a colt discovered with a hoof in the cookie jar. Even through his fur, both his seamstress and his bodyguard could see the spectacular blush on his face.

“Yes, no, I like her, but maybe not...” He sighed and hung his head. “It’s complicated. She’s a kind, pretty mare, for sure, but...”

“But what?”

“I… I just don’t think I’m ready for this, Rarity. Not like that,” he confessed, his ears drooped down.

Rarity let out a silent sigh. Oh, she understood him. Long had she searched for a stallion that would whisk her off her hooves and begin a new chapter of their lives. And sometimes, she looked to her life, full of adventures and breathtaking trials of fashion, and she did not know if she had a right to sacrifice some of it just yet. “I understand those things take time, Pierre. You will change your mind as time pass you by.”

“I know I won’t. Not when I have a princess looking over my shoulder telling me ‘if not this one, another should do the trick’.”

For the first time since coming, Rarity’s smiled turned into an uneasy grimace. “I-I would imagine that could be… uninspiring. But surely, if you were to find the right mare...”

“It’s not about the mare, Rarity. It’s everyone else. I could find my one true love and it wouldn’t matter, because I’d never be able to know that we stay together by choice. It’s a bicorn’s duty. What would she think of me after her fifth, her seventh, her tenth pregnancy?” Pierre’s eyes stared right through the seamstress, pinning her on the spot. They were clouded over, as if he could see far away, this future he feared. “What if she gets sick of it? What if she resents me or the foals? What then? We spend the rest of our lives unhappy to serve some grand ideal in the sky, and see it happen all over again with each of our children.”

Rarity bit her lips as the poor bicorn seemed to crumble, and her eyes sought the handsome bodyguard for help, but he merely observed the situation with a blank gaze. The mask flickered for but the shortest moment, yet Tempered Steel made no move. It was not his place to speak of his charges’ future.

“Pierre, it isn’t like that,” Rarity said, the words shaking with small tremors. Her hoof stroke his shoulder gently, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. “This will not happen to you, I promise.”

Empty words. Well-meaning, empty words. He was tempted to begrudge her for that, for offering so little, but at least she tacitly acknowledged that the fate Equestria demanded of them could be terrible. She might have been the first.

Pierre chuckled mirthlessly. “Ah, but it’s our duty, right? So it’s not a big deal if it does happen, at least we’ll have secured another generation.”

A heavy silence fell in the room after that. Even the faint chime of Rarity’s magic had faded away, the mare staring at her hooves without a word. If Pierre had twisted his neck, or stepped down from his small pedestal, he might have seen the guilty, bitter expression on her face. Briefly, her hoof went to the crook of her neck, scratching at an invisible object.

As if a switch had been flipped, she looked up and opened her mouth… and closed it. Unable to bring herself to speak as she had before, Rarity set out to adjust the stitches on his suit, avoiding his gaze entirely.

Pierre’s eyes followed the needles floating in the air, and they looked a little unsteady in Rarity’s grasp. It had been a little cruel, to throw back her words at her like this. She had seemed sincere to him, today as well as before. It was no out of malice, he knew. Equestria had run this way for a thousand years and she was merely repeating what she had been taught growing up. But Twilight Sparkle, announcing they were under house arrest flashed in his memory, and the pang of guilt in his chest flickered. They had no choice, because the ponies were giving them none!

“Can you imagine a version of Equestria without bicorns?” he asked with a falsely nonchalant tone. “I can. And it’s frankly a better place for it.”

“Pierre!” Rarity gasped, her eyes almost bulging out, and her thoughts were clear as day. What are you saying?!

“What?” He shrugged innocently, as if he didn’t get why she looked scared for him. “I’m not saying that it’s wrong for them to exist, but--”

“Us,” Tempered Steel cut in.

Startled, both Pierre and Rarity turned around to see the batpony they had forgotten. His amber eyes focused entirely on his bicorn charge, and the intensity of it made Pierre’s skin crawl. Those were eyes that could - and did - cowl a bunch of unruly soldiers.

But then, the bicorn’s jaw tensed, and he frowned. “...Them, Sergeant. I’m not that far gone yet. And I know exactly what I’m saying. If there were no bicorns, if we’d all just be pegasi, unicorns or earth ponies instead, Equestria would not be a kingdom with institutionalized slavery.”

From behind him came a soft, quiet gasp, followed by the tinkle of metal bouncing against wood. Rarity stared at him in horror, gaping, as if he had slapped her.

Tempered Steel fared not much better. He had stilled, his gaze a mixture of disbelief and anger.

Pierre felt bubbles of joyless laughter rise in his throat. Were they really so shocked?! Duty, love, for the greater good… those little words had so much power over their consciences that they even forgot what they were doing. He wanted to shake them and shove the truth down their throats. A pretty, gilded golden cage and a big family did not change it, the illusions did not change it and the fake concern did not either.

And this time, he could not hide it, he could not mask the bitterness and the resentment as he glared at them both. “King Sombra was evil, wasn’t he?”

“It’s not...” she choked on her words. “...not this... We don’t...”

Pierre chuckled. His mouth twisted in a smile so hollow, and it made her skin crawl. You are doing this to us, it said and growled and screamed. Her fault, their fault, because they were forcing them, because they said they were from another world, and those two were not taught that it was right, and now she could not look him in the eyes anymore. She feared that if she did, a part of her world would unravel forever under the shadow of a tyrant with a blood red horn.

“I’ll… I’ll come back when your suit is ready, Pierre.”

And with that, Rarity fled the house, the accusation following her throughout the streets to her boutique.

Edward sat, motionless at his desk, staring blankly at the book in front of him. His muse was a perfect start toward his plot, but only that. With him and his only ally stuck isolated from anyone who might pose useful, he had to improvise. A skill, while he was confident he had a knack for, he despised relying on.

The sound of someone approaching had him turn about. The youngest guard – Ed forgot his name, or chose to forget it, either way it didn't matter – approached cheerily. A wide naive smile blocked the seriousness of the world around him.

“What are you doing?” Attention Span asked, peeking over Ed’s shoulder and glossing the book enthusiastically.

Ed shoved the pesky private away, and shut the book hard. “I’m preparing the sequel to my misson impossible, of course. Since you are here, why don’t you give me your schedule and that of your little puppet friends. That would save me the trouble.”

“W-what? No way! I can’t do that!” the private gasped, eyes widening in shock. “In fact, hmm, I think I should be trying to find out your plans and thwart them as soon as possible.”

Ed sat eyes closed slowly rubbing a hoof over a temple. “Confound these ponies and their inability to detect sarcasm...”

Belfry scoffed at his distress, walking in from the front room. “You’re kidding, right? Nightmare Moon could hear it from the moon, some of us,” looking at her nervous companion, “Are just too nice to call you on it.”

“You certainly exude kindness from your every pore. And snideness, but mostly kindness, of course.”

“Of course.” Belfry grinned with all her teeth, and hooked a hoof around his shoulder. “I am a servant of the public, your happiness is my number one priority. That’s why we have you on lockdown, gotta keep my overwhelming joy from flooding into the streets.”

“Ah, I’m sure that would drown a few bugs here or there. Or maybe an unlucky fellow that fell face first into that puddle.”

Her ears ticking in annoyance, her smile slightly less prominent, Belfry deadpanned, “Cute, but excuse me, kettle, I think I have a letter for you from pot. It says, you’re black.”

Attention Span who had been watching the duo’s back and forth warily tapped Belfry on the shoulder, having her turn to him a look like a creature from hell smoldering beneath her calm surface. “Ummm, Belfry, Black Kettle hasn’t sent us any mail since we got here.”

Just like that, Belfry’s fire was gone, the ashes scattered to the wind as her young comrade looked on hopefully.

“Too nice, huh?” Ed said, his laughter barely being suppressed at the sight of the defeated mare.

“Shut up,” Belfry growled before turning and walking into the kitchen to cool off. “Surrounded by idiots and grumps...”

“Right, whatever you say,” Ed taunted, turning back to his papers.

A few more precious seconds of silence ticked by at the rythm of the grandfather’s clock on the wall. He did not question his lucky star, considering how sparse that thing seemed to remember he existed. He plunged his muzzle back in the sole volume he owned.

“You know…” Attention Span said thoughtfully, tapping his chin with his hoof. “I’ve never seen a pony that can outargue Belfry before, it’s kinda scary.”

Edward flipped the page, making a mental note of the content he had read. Without a glance up, he muttered, half-heartedly, “I’ll take your word for it, kid.”

To his annoyance, the stallion - teenager, maybe? The guy looked and acted more childish than Pierre! - leaned in closer to read over his shoulder. The fur at the back of Edward’s neck tingled and his hooves clenched over the corners of the book.

“So, what are you doing, for real I mean?” Attention Span asked, as earnest as he was oblivious.

“Research,” Ed said in a clipped one, “have to keep myself preoccupied somehow, with the little information I have.”

“What do you mean, so little?”

“Well, I don’t have any books here, and I can’t leave. Do the math, sunshine.”

“It’s Attention Span, and maybe I could go get you some.”

“Really, that’d be useful, maybe you aren’t as brain dead as I thought.”

“I’m glad to help, and, ummm, it’s Attention Span, not Brain Dead…” the young guard said, his words losing volume and energy as he thought through the almost compliment.

Edward returned to his work, only to be once again interrupted by the wails of a certain prissy fashionista. He pondered what idiot comment Pierre could have made to get her so riled up, only to have her dash through the front room and out the door.

“Woah! What do you think got her so upset?” Attention span asked, his face having lost its normal joyous smile. Ed was surprised at how worried the private looked, which only had him all the more curious.

“I don’t know, Rarity may overreact, but that was something far more than that,” Ed said. Stepping from his spot at the desk, he joined Attention Span as he followed Rarity’s trail to the still open door.

Together, they watched as she ran through the town, earning countless stares from those on the streets.

Whatever Pierre had done, it had worked. A breach had made its way through the blissful ignorance the masses seemed to shield themselves with. Whether Pierre had insulted her, or finally brought the Bicorn problem to her attention, he’d cracked that armor.

Ed turned to his saddened companion, who was still watching the road even after Rarity had long gone. “Span, I would like to take you up on your offer.”

For a second, it seemed as if the private was too lost in his own thoughts to have heard him. Before Ed could try again however, the private turned toward him. He wore a smile, not like the one from before, but one all the same.

“Which offer?” Attention span asked.

Edward motioned for the private to move in, and then shut the door. Casually, Ed walked back toward the main room, he’d need to talk to Pierre, but first he had to thin the enemy ranks.

“You said you wouldn’t mind picking me up some supplies. If I write you up a quick and general list, can I count on you to find what you can?” Ed asked, looking back a devilish glint in his eye.

The private nodded eagerly, his smile becoming all the wider. “Sure, anything to help.”

Turning back, Ed sat back at his desk, and with a bit of awkward shuffling took up a pen. A moment later, he held up a sloppy but legible list of supplies, ranging from more paper and pens, to books on history, both general and Bicornian. Attention Span took the list and gave it a once over, nodding in satisfaction. With his usual enthusiasm, the stallion waved and exited through the door.

“Where is he going?” Belfry asked, sliding in alongside Ed.

Ed cringed. He hadn’t thought the mare could be so quiet when she wasn’t trying to instigate something. “I sent him off to do some shopping; if I’m to be stuck in here, I deserve to have something to keep me occupied.”

“I highly doubt that, but we’ll seen soon enough won't we,” Belfry said, eying Edward suspiciously.

“And what exactly do you mean by that?” Ed asked, returning Belfry’s look with a suspicious one of his own.

Belfry shook her head nonchalantly, and walked off again. Something that was beginning to grind on Ed’s nerves. “Just a feeling, that’s all,” she said, as she made her way to the stairs.

“She might actually pose a problem,” Ed said, ruminating on what exactly the bat mare was playing at. Cunning and devious plots were his shtick, and he wasn’t to fond of someone stepping into his territory. It would have to wait. Scrabbling down a memo for later, he rose and plotted off to find his french henchman. By the end of this, everyone would see the truth, Twilight may have thought she’d won, it this was only the beginning. A demo, he was testing the waters, and the temperature was perfect.