The Rainbow Falls Incident
It is a well-known fact that there must always be a princess present at the Rainbow Falls Traders’ Exchange to settle disputes. It has been that way since before anypony currently alive was born, excepting Princesses Celestia and Luna of course. And for almost as long, it has been an effectively ceremonial duty, for who would attend without bothering to learn the single rule governing whether a trade is fair? Most ponies take the royal presence to be nothing more than an unnecessary (though welcome) precaution which has been calcified into tradition.
Most ponies are wrong. A day of a princess’s time is valuable even now, when there are four princesses to go around. Back in the early days of the Traders’ Exchange, which happened to fall during a period when Princess Celestia was the sole ruler, it would be downright preposterous for her to waste one day out of every year on a baseless precaution at a swap meet. No, there is a very good reason the requirement for a princess’s presence was instituted. And if you’re willing to dig deeply enough into the history books, you’ll find it.
“Ah, there is the Exchange now,” commented the griffon in the chariot. “Did I not tell you we would be there soon?”
It was a very nice chariot, styled in clear, though imperfect, imitation of Equestrian royal chariots. Nopony would mistake it for being Princess Celestia’s; the collapsible canopy installed as a concession to griffons’ inferior control of the weather would be a dead giveaway to anypony who managed to miss the fact that the chariot wasn’t made out of solid gold. But it did at least appear to be made from high-quality oak, with no shortage of intricate designs carved into it, and even some inlaid silver. And the back was appropriately high, the cushions within were appropriately soft, and the sides and top appropriately open to let in the sun (since it was not currently raining). All in all, it was transportation eminently fit for the leader of a minor duchy within the Holy Griffonian Empire who was going through a phase of superficially emulating Equestria.
This is fortunate, for that was precisely who was riding within the chariot. Duke Lukas of Pomervania was, frankly, not the most knowledgeable griffon about Equestria. He was only fluent in the language because every time he fell behind on his studies in some language, his parents would refuse to speak Griffonian until he caught up. In every other field, his tutors never found a way to get anything to stick, and consequently he knew almost nothing about equine culture. He hardly even knew anything about the Holy Griffonian Empire, for that matter. But recently he had decided that any country that controlled the sun and moon was worth imitating, and since then he had been picking up random facts about Equestria and copying them completely out of context. Thus why he had decided on a whim to attend the annual Rainbow Falls Traders’ Exchange.
“Yes, sire.” In fact, Stefan, who was flying alongside the chariot, had been the one to say they would soon arrive. But you don’t become the Duke’s most trusted advisor by contradicting him, and goodness only knows what would happen if Lukas were left unsupervised.
The griffons who were pulling the chariot, and the cart full of random objects for potential trading that was following just behind, said nothing, as was expected of them. It wasn’t like they spoke Equestrian, anyway.
Before long, they were on the ground, and quickly attracting attention. Griffons have always been rare in Equestria, and few ponies had ever seen six of them in the same place before. Lukas’s stall (for a duke is far too important to spend all day walking around; let the trades come to him) hadn’t even been set up before ponies began asking about some of the things he had brought. Within minutes he had traded a set of old talon blades for a toy glider in the shape of a pegasus. One might wonder why Lukas would want a children’s toy, or why some random mare would want rusty weapons she can’t use, but they both seemed happy. And that is the wonder of the Rainbow Falls Traders’ Exchange.
Several hours passed. The crowd dispersed as the novelty of griffons wore off, but Lukas had already amassed a significant collection of Equestrian knickknacks by then, and though the trades declined to a trickle, they did not stop. He was rather enjoying himself at the Exchange. Eventually, however, hunger did begin to interfere with his mood, and to similarly bother his entourage.
This was actually somewhat more of a problem than it sounded. Lukas had insisted on bringing as much trading material as possible, so they didn’t have any food with them. And finding pony food that a griffon would call a proper meal was no trivial task. And as much as Stefan would have liked to send one of the guards for food so he could continue to keep an eye on Lukas, Stefan was the only one with any real chance of success in such a quest. So, quietly praying that no griffon killed anything while he was gone, he left to find lunch.
Admittedly, Stefan was a bit over-prone to worrying. Lukas had actually managed to remember that ponies find blood distasteful, and the guards knew better than to hunt on unfamiliar territory unless they were explicitly told that it was okay with whoever owned the land, so there was no risk of any animals dying in the name of a massive faux pas. However, that was hardly the only way things could go wrong, as was demonstrated when a unicorn stallion walked past levitating a burger.
“Good sir, would you care to trade me your food?” Lukas called out. Sure, Stefan was getting food, but as a duke, Lukas was not used to waiting to eat.
“I suppose it depends on what you’re offering.” The unicorn approached to see what Lukas had. “Ooh, that looks nice.” He pointed to a small antique clock.
Lukas had been hoping to get something good for the clock; it was quite finely crafted, and though many ponies had shown interest in it already, he had turned down every offer thus far as insufficient. But, on the other talon, he was pretty hungry. “It is a deal.”
The unicorn began to trot away with his new treasure as Lukas took a bite of the burger . . . and promptly spit it out in disgust. “What is in this?” he demanded.
The unicorn turned back towards Lukas. “Just the usual stuff: lettuce, onions, tomatoes, . . . hay, . . .”
“Hay?! Why did you not tell me this was a hay burger?!”
The unicorn began to back away. “I didn’t think I needed to say. What other kind of burger would it be?”
“A real burger! Now give me back my clock!”
“What, for a half-eaten burger? Are you crazy?”
“I am the Duke of Pomervania, and I will not be so robbed!”
“Yeah, well,” the unicorn eloquently rebutted, just before he ran away.
“Guards!” Lukas’s guards continued watching for danger and otherwise doing nothing. After a moment, Lukas turned around and realized he had been just waiting in vain for his guards to understand him while the unicorn got away with his clock. “Scheiße! Wachen!” Now the guards jumped to attention.
It was at this moment that Stefan returned, in rather a hurry since he had caught the tail end of the shouting. “Wait!” He wasn’t sure if whatever order Lukas was about to give would be considered an act of war by Equestria, but he wasn’t eager to find out. “What’s going on?”
“Some unicorn peasant stole an antique clock! He must be found before he gets away. He could be leaving the Exchange even now!”
Stefan looked around at the crowd of ponies watching Lukas but taking no action. “That’s strange. Ponies here are supposed to be very opposed to theft. You’d think somepony would have stopped him from escaping.”
“Apparently, they do not mind fraud. He tricked me into thinking this hay burger was food, and traded it for the clock.”
“Ah. Would you permit me to track him down? I believe I can get the clock back without raising too much fuss.”
So Stefan dropped off the fried apples he had brought (most griffons were very fond of fruit purely because it was so hard to come by in the mountains of the Holy Griffonian Empire), got a description of the pony he was looking for, and set out to retrieve a clock without attacking an Equestrian citizen deep within Equestria.
Past that, things calmed down. Lukas had his guards pack up what he hadn’t yet traded, and started glaring at anypony who came within ten feet, which eliminated the risk of there being any future interactions to mess up. Meanwhile, Stefan asked around until he found the unicorn, and then negotiated for the clock. It ended up costing him his legbands, which had been in the family for well over a century, as well as a feather from his crest. But it was better than getting caught in a war with only four guards on his side.
Lukas, satisfied to be getting his clock back, left peacefully and without doing anything else foolish. So, in the end, it turned out fine. Nobody died or started a war. What else do you really need?
Still, Princess Celestia was understandably less than pleased when she heard about these events. She decided that something must be done to prevent a repeat of such an incident. And that is why the Rainbow Falls Traders’ Exchange now requires a princess to judge in case of disagreements.
