Let the Silence Sing 2

by Aegis Shield

Chapters

Hedge Maze
Research
Lunch Hour
Public Opinion
Ebonfeather's Plan
The Ball
Honor Duel
Approval

Hedge Maze

Author's Note

You wanted a sequel? You got it! :D

~Aegis

Hedge Maze

Let the Silence Sing 2
Part 1: Hedge Maze

Big Macintosh walked at an easy canter between two orchards. He’d finished his chores for the day, showered and groomed, and was off for his own activities. It wasn’t apple-bucking season just yet, so he often had half the day to himself this time of year. Sighing with a simple sort of contentment, he continued down the path until he spotted Featherweight.

The long-legged colt ducked his head and wilted his ears like he might be struck. After publishing that picture of Big Mac and Princess Celestia last week, he’d been condemned to paint all the fences in Sweet Apple Acres. The fields were color coordinated too, so it wasn’t gonna be easy. The dark green this particular fence row was supposed to be was coming along nicely, but it was still just the fifth of eight fields.

Big Mac offered a measured frown to make sure he was doing a good job, but saw nothing wrong with his efforts. He’d insisted on deciding the colt’s punishment for his violation of privacy—and exposing his relationship with the Princess to the general public. The flow of green paint and the paint cans that were smattered around the grounds would keep him going at least another four days or so.

The papers had been printing about it all week, nonstop with the same picture. There wasn’t a pony alive that didn’t know the Princess was dating somepony called ‘Big Macintosh.’ Thankfully the media and other such ponies hadn’t found him yet. Ponyville knew, but they seemed to be keeping it quiet. After all, housing x-number of national heroes, surviving plagues and dragons and all sorts of other things had sort of mellowed the population out. There had been a few congratulators, but nothing crazy thus far.

Finally reaching the grain silo, Big Mac looked about. Nopony was around. Reaching, he opened the door and stepped through. The two guards on the other side were briefly startled, but nodded respectfully. Beyond the magical doorway was Canterlot, the capital of Equestria. Celestia had placed it there so that they might visit more often and more easily. One guard shut the door behind him, then gestured to the floor.

Big Mac looked down, then sheepishly wiped his hooves on a waiting rug. The palace staff was still in a titter about him leaving a trail of dirt the last time he’d been there. He wasn’t exactly spic and span during his last visit. Emerging out into the hallway, he turned left and then right. Which way was it, again? He wasn’t sure. The palace was big and labyrinthing in his eyes. It was easy to get lost, end up outside, on a balcony or even in the tallest tower. It wasn’t like the easy rolling hills of Sweet Apple Acres. Grumbling at all the fancy filigree and stained-glass windows that blocked his natural view, he decided left and went on his way at a slow loping pace.

He received nods and sometimes salutes as he went by. The royal coltfriend, they’d called him. As though there were such a title. Smirking with just a smidgen of male pride, he turned down the appropriate hallway when he found it. Exiting out a pair of massive double doors he found himself in the royal gardens. The gentlest spring days were the only ones that found the palace this time of year, and it showed. Puffy clouds, blue skies and a crisp little breeze all made for the perfect day. The weather pegasi were always hard at work around the capital to keep it nice.

Then finally he found her. Princess Celestia lay on her back beneath a swaying tree. The hishhhh-hishhh of all the branches had lulled her into a sort of afternoon doze, and the careful absence of guards spoke volumes. He found himself smiling as he approached, wider and wider. Her hair lay rained all about her in a display of three colors, and the glow of the reflected sun made her seem angelic under his gaze. Her nose worked itself when a single blade of grass tickled her nose.

Choo-!

Guh, his heart could barely take the cute. Leaning, he nosed her just once. Her long lashes fluttered and she gazed up at him silently. They shared a private smile, and he leaned to give her a chaste kiss.

Turning to hide her sun-exposed pink belly, Princess Celestia righted herself and stretched her wings. The two of them turned as one, walking side-by-side until they came to the castle maze. It was quiet, private, and away from prying eyes. They could visit and be merry away from any hiding guards, spying photographers and such in its many winding paths. She leaned daintily against him, draping a massive wing out over his back.

Big Mac smiled sheepishly, having to look up just a little to see into her face. He still wasn’t used to having to look up at her. Playful, he nipped one of her primaries. The Princess yipped softly, then whapped his back just a little with her feathery touch. They shared quiet, giggly laughter as they disappeared into the winding paths of the hedge maze.

Finding one of the open spots some distance in, they settled at a tiny coy fish pond. The fish were shy at the sight of them, but darted around none the less in a brilliant orange display of fleeting bodies. They settled on their bellies, side by side, and leaned into one another. A long time passed while they watched the fish, and Celestia heaved a great content sigh. He could see the stress of ruling melting out of her bit by bit in his presence.

The great red stallion leaned into her embrace, closing his eyes contentedly. Her chin rested atop his head in a rather cute ‘big spoon’ sort of way. Chuckling in a rumbly way down in his throat, he stroked the length of her withers in silence. Another happy sigh.

Turning after a long time, Celestia lifted her opposite wing. Leaning with her teeth she unzipped a hidden little purse she kept under there. Emerging with a long bar of gourmet chocolate, she set it near him to share. Working the wrapper off with her magic, she offered him the first bite. He found it was cold. Cold chocolate was always a great treat. He dug his teeth in harder, but it wouldn’t break. Celestia cocked her head, wiggling it in his mouth. He bit harder, straining a bit. She pulled his head about like a fish that had been caught biting a worm. Putting his back into it the candy bar finally snapped audibly. Big Mac flopped over backward from the sudden lack of resistance. The chocolate he’d bitten off launched into the air… then plunked into the coy fish pond. The fish fled from the sudden foreign object. Her wing rushed over him to pull him close as she threw her head back with full-throated, gay laughter. Big Macintosh smirked, then grinned, then joined her. Apologizing, she broke off a bite-sized piece with her magic, then fed it to him. He liked it. There was a mysterious taste of orange mixed in with the dark chocolate—how fancy!

They shared the rest of the bar without incident while the lazy afternoon stretched on. Celestia had also brought a pair of small milk bottles to wash down all the chocolate. She thought water was too bland, and teas and such had a bad aftertaste. Milk was just right. Big Mac agreed.

Having had their fill, they settled next to the coy fish pond. Big Macintosh slowly stroked his muzzle down the Princess’ long withers, then rested his chin at her shoulder with his eyes closed. She did the same, pulling both her wings forward to embrace him. The rest of the world passed the quietly by—little dandelion seeds floated gracefully by on the breeze, and the occasional insect toddled by, minding its own business. Celestia sighed once more, leaning her weight into him. A quiet, murmuring hour of nothing at all.

C-CLOP.

Both ponies startled, turning to look. An armored pegasi stood there after having landed, saluting with all seriousness. The Princess gave a formal nod, all the shields coming back up as she did so. She raised herself up into a regal posture to display her height. Big Mac looked up as the not-quite-real neutral smile settled on her features.

Bowing, the intruder gave her a scroll with a griffon nation’s seal on it. She flipped it open with her magic, then slowly stood. Big Mac looked up, frowning in concern. She patted his head with her wing. It was nothing world-ending or war-causing, but it did need to be seen to right away. Leaning rather boldly and with the guard watching, she kissed him on the lips. Big Mac went a slightly deeper shade of red. The armored guard looked sheepishly to one side, feeling more and more guilty that he’d had to interrupt them.

With a rather ‘kissed him because I can’ smile on her face, Celestia cantered for a bit then took wing. Her guard would need to escort Big Macintosh back to the palace. Duty called, being the ruler of a nation. He smiled fondly after her. He understood. It made their little meeting-dates all the more romantic when their demanding jobs gave them just a little time for each other. Even just a few hours like today.

Big Mac caught the armored pegasi measuring himself up against the earth pony. What did he have that a soldier or noble or other stallion didn’t have? He couldn’t tell, but he saw Big Mac watch him checking him out. He startled a little, then went back to his stony-official-guard-face. It was this way back to the palace, he assured the royal coltfriend as they took off down a path.

End of Part 1

Research

Let the Silence Sing 2
Part 2 – Research

A gaggle of the solar guard, all stallions, had gathered around a big conference table. Finally the folder they’d been waiting for had arrived. The one of highest rank slapped it down on the hardwood, sending a few pictures careening out of it at random.

Pictures of Big Macintosh were peered at with frowny curiosity. So this was the stallion the Princess was dating. Hrm. He didn’t look like anything special. Where was the report? Every pony leaned to see, murmuring amongst themselves. It didn’t take a genius to know that this was seven different kinds of illegal, spying on a random citizen, but if the Princess’ heart and happiness was involved, they would do their duty to learn about the subject.

He was a big-chested thing with massive hooves and an unassuming smile. One of the pictures of him in high school sported massive braces and giant soda-bottle glasses. He must’ve taken to wearing contacts, and his braces were long gone. Interesting. One of the commanders leaned, picking up the primary report to read to the others.

Name: Big Macintosh
Age: 24
Species: Earth Pony
Profession: Apple Orchard Farmer (Sweet Apple Acres, Ponyville)

Average Annual Income: approximately 57,000 bits (Ponyville Savings and Loan)
Average Savings: 10% paycheck value (Ponyville Savings and Loan)
Average Yearly Net Income: 51,300 (before taxes)

Sweet Apple Acres provides primary shipments of six different apple types to seven Equestrian counties, Canterlot, and Cloudsdale. As it provides a staple food a lot of bits go in and out of the establishment before they can be tabulated. An exact net worth is not calculable without examining hoof-written ledgers that are no doubt kept in-residence.

Adverse Physical Medical History: None (no lasting or current conditions)
Adverse Mental Medical History: None (no lasting or current conditions)
Adverse Behavioral History: None (no criminal record found)

Notes:
-3-time winner of the Ponyville Strong Stallion Competition
-Active member of the 5-voice barbershop quintet from Ponyville, the Pony Tones. (Bass)
-Suspected minor case of giantism (not diagnosed)
-Education level is higher than projected, confirmed Degree in Agriculture and Geology with a Minor in Fancy Mathematics.
-Stallion of few words. Long surveillance reveals “yup” and “nope” to be 90% of the stallion’s lexicon, unless specifically prompted by an outside source.

They passed the report around, hrming and hawing over it. So the Princess liked the strong silent type, huh? Weren’t all of her guards that, too? What did Big Macintosh have that they didn’t? It was true, there was a mild air of jealousy in the room. Nothing too overwhelming, but it did sting a little. Perhaps she liked this country bumpkin because he wasn’t from Canterlot, but out in the middle of nowhere?

The gathering traded theories back and forth, staring at the pictures and memorizing all of Big Mac’s features. No doubt at least a few of them would be assigned to protect the royal coltfriend at some point. When the media got a hold of where he lived or where he could be found, the poor guy would probably be swamped. Princess Celestia would probably send them to keep him safe.

=-=-=

Big Mac sneezed suddenly, prompting Celestia to pause and bless him. Another fine spring day had called for a picnic by the coy fish pond. As per usual they didn’t get to see much of the fish since they were so shy, but their fleeting orange bodies were still very cute to watch.

The red stallion blew his nose on a napkin, stuffing it aside when he was done. Maybe it was the different flowers of Canterlot that were making him sneeze, the garden was certainly full of them.

Between the two ponies sat Celestia’s favorite board game, ‘Settlers of Equestria.’ It was a resource gathering game where one could earn points by making little cities and roads on a map. It hadn’t taken long to learn, and was actually pretty relaxing to play in the shade. Big Mac rolled the clattering dice once more, then gingerly placed a little town with his teeth. Celestia smiled encouragingly, sipping at one of the juice boxes he’d brought to share with her.

Several hours had passed with the shade and the pond and the game, then a whistle sounded. Celestia jolted a little, turning her head. Emerging out onto the stone patio was none other than the griffon king himself, Ebonfeather! The white alicorn looked back and forth between Big Macintosh, mildly panicking. But it was too late, he’d already spotted them and was crossing the yard toward them. A quartet of guards followed messily behind him, scolding that he couldn’t just wander around where he pleased. But he was a king, he could do what he liked.

Drawing herself up into her regal posture, Celestia was just in time to get a crushing hug from the large bird. The air woof’d out of her lungs and she almost staggered when he slapped her back. Big Mac stood slowly, then bowed in respect when the king looked upon him.
So! This was the lucky stallion the papers had been talking about! Ebonfeather shouldered up to Big Mac while Celestia tried to recover in the background, wheezing animatedly. Throwing a great arm around the red stallion, he looked him over like one might a turkey on a rack. He seemed sizeable, and those were certainly muscles under all that pony fur. Big and furry and strong, how nice! He slap-slap-slapped Big Mac’s back, which made even his knees shudder a little.

Celestia finally recovered, swooping in before her beloved was spirited off by a foreign king or something. Casting a long wing over him as stallion and king parted, she gave a pained smile. Ebonfeather belly-laughed, telling them both how cute they looked together. Celestia had the decency to blush and look to one side. Grasping their shoulders in his claws, he gave them his royal blessing and wished them luck. As though they’d needed his blessing.

Big Mac smiled gingerly at Celestia, who looked a little winded as the King turned to find his entourage again. He’d left them in the antechamber at the front gates. He was supposed to arrive that evening for international trade discussion—but had decided to stop by in the afternoon to surprise them instead and get a good look at Big Macintosh. After all, was it not only the most perfect example of ponydom that drew the eye of a Princess? That other prince, Shining-what’s-his-name, could protect entire cities with a single unicorn spell. Big Mac must’ve been quite special indeed, being an earth pony and all.

Celestia grimaced at the King’s semi-innocent racism, but did not reply to it. Big Mac patted Celestia’s shoulder supportively, leaning to start putting their game away when king Ebonfeather was gone. They smiled at one another. This was no doubt only the start of things. Leaning and pecking his cheek, the white alicorn went to join the king for their talks and dinner. Big Mac shook his head and smiled, watching her go.

End of Part 2

Lunch Hour

Let the Silence Sing 3
Part 3: Lunch Hour

Solar Guards stepped aside in pairs as Big Macintosh strode through the palace. Over time he’d learned the quickest routes to find Celestia without bothering anypony. Around this time she would no doubt be on the throne conducting the royal court. He would just poke his head in. It was about lunch time, perhaps she’d take a break to eat with him.

Big Mac turned when he saw a guard or three staring at him. They quickly snapped back to attention and paid him no heed after that. Murmuring to himself, the stocky farmer leaned around a corner to find the massive double doors he wanted. Smiling to himself, he cantered forward until he was stopped by a trio of armored mares.

Big Mac tilted his head, gesturing to the room beyond. The highest ranking of the three looked down at her clipboard. He didn’t seem to have a summons or a royal invitation. She flipped through her pages as he wilted lower and lower. When she got to the back page she paused. The newspaper article from a couple of weeks ago had been laminated and put on the bottom of everything, along with a candid photograph of Big Mac’s face. Her pupils shrank and she looked up at him again. Big Mac offered a careful smile as she checked him against the image about six times.

The three armored mares practically leapt aside so the royal coltfriend could enter, bowing deeply. He bowed back, feeling rather awkward as the double doors were thrown open to announce his presence.

Celestia, seated behind the throne and buried behind a pile of scrolls and charts, was busy calculating a rainstorm schedule for three neighboring countries. As Big Mac approached she was weighing the pros and cons of sending extra crop-rain towards the griffon empire. If they sent too little it would be an insult, and if they sent too much it would be a sign of weakness and tribute in their eyes. She would need to check the— the white alicorn looked up when she heard large hooves upon the marble floor. A smile instantly flashed across her face.

Big Mac looked sheepishly to one side, then the other, as all the secretaries and clerks strewn around the room looked up from their work. Little portable desks were set in a large semi-circle to provide enough flat space for everypony to work. It made the normally clean throne room look busy and untidy. They were all craning their necks, some less subtly than others, to have a good look at him. That was the royal coltfriend? Huh!

Celestia stamped a gold-gilded hoof twice to call for the lunch hour. She stepped down off the throne’s purple pillow and walked daintily down the steps to where Big Mac stood. Suddenly remembering where he was, he bowed low. This seemed to please the onlookers. At least the strange, silent oaf had manners when it came to royalty! Celestia winced on the inside as she saw how many eyes were on him. She cleared her throat daintily, and everypony lurched. Sack lunches, coolers, and other such things started coming out and there was sufficient noise again to make it less awkward. Giving a warm growly-grr deep down in his barrel, Big Mac leaned up and into her. She returned the hug putting a long, slender leg around his midsection. Gesturing to one side, she led him to a little sitting area. Servants had set up a little circle of pillows, a nieghponese sitting table, and a humble little luncheon for her Majesty. Feeling very much like he’d invited himself, Big Mac had to be told to sit and share with her. He did so, siddling around the table until they were side-by-side.

The white alicorn winced a little, holding her shoulder a moment. When there was a lot of paperwork involved, she tended to hunch a little. When sitting on one’s haunches, this was bad posture. Especially if you held yourself that way for a few hours. It was no better than slouching. Scolding herself a little as she broke a cornbread muffin and shared with Big Mac, she gave her shoulder a roll.

He looked over at her in concern. Was she hurting? Ohhh, well that could be fixed. Leaving his half-eaten corn muffin on the table in front of him, he reared up behind her with his big hooves. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. A back-rub, how romantic and ni--!?

CRACKLE-SNAP-CRUNCH-CR-CRK!

The Princess let out a shrill, crying yelp as Big Mac rearranged the slightly bent muscles and bone. Heads snapped their way, food sprayed out of mouths and guard hearts all around the room went icy cold. Sweet Faust and all the heaven’s he’d assassinated her!

There was a thundering, screaming stampede as every armored pony in the room dive-bombed right for Big Mac’s face. Princess Celestia lay limp over the table, her head twisted awkwardly to one side and her wings laying limp over the floor. Her massive span had rumpled only seconds before the red stallion was buried under so many shouting bodies. Wrestling him to the floor weapons flew out of sheaths as they made ready to use him like a pin cushion!

Then a long, rather sensual purr rolled over the air and the mess of bodies. A few heads turned, and there was some pointing. Celestia lifted herself again, looking rather pleased and dreamy-eyed. Why, that had felt wonderful! Lighting her horn, she plucked Big Mac from the murderous crowd. She set him next to herself and turned, shooing the others away as she went. The red stallion looked around rather sheepishly. Perhaps he should’ve warned them or something. Now he felt like he’d caused a national incident. Leaning gingerly, he bade her to exhale as hard as she could. While she was doing so, he worked down her spine quickly. Crk-crk-CRK-CRK-crk-crk. Celestia shivered a bit, feeling rather limp and satiated with life at the moment. More than a few cheeks were red at the purring, yelping little sounds she’d made. Invigorated, she shook out her wings and refolded them properly. This sent a few white feathers into the air. One landed perfectly behind Big Mac’s ear as he sat next to her again.

Celestia smiled, embarrassedly plucking it from his mane while he kept eating. The guard’s backed off a bit. W-well at least they’d been quick to grab him, right? Mumbling to one another, they returned to their posts around the room. Slowly, the din of eating and chatting returned to the massive room.

=-=-=-=

Sitting out on Celestia’s royal balcony to watch the sunset, Big Mac and Princess Celestia smiled to one another. What an eventful day! The princess lit her horn as the time came to lower the sun.

Big Mac watched in wonder. He’d never been to a Summer Sun Celebration or anything of the sort. He’d only ever seen the sun move of its own accord across the sky. But to see Celestia move it herself was awe-inspiring. She reared up on her back legs, wings spanning to their full reach. Wispy hair bannering behind her, she lifted her forelegs high as golden magicks enveloped her. Before his very eyes, Big Mac watched Celestia slowly lower the sun. It took almost twenty minutes, of course, as just jolting the sun down would have been jarring for everypony. The slow and graceful motion was predicated with the rising moon on the other side of the sky. Though he could not see Princess Luna, he knew she was on another tower somewhere, starting her duties for the evening.

Celestia gave a start when she saw him staring. She usually closed her eyes while lowering the sun, to feel the magicks more fluidly. The spirit of the sun was an ancient and complex thing, so moving him about with any distraction was dangerous. Big Mac’s eyes shone in the growing moonlight, looking up at his Princess in all her majesty. She pinkened in the cheeks, looking to one side. She only raised and lowered the sun in front of a crowd once a year. To have someone watching right now felt… intimate.

He smiled up at her. They slowly drew close. The cool of the night air sang between them with a mane-rustling breeze. They shared a deeper kiss, long and loving, right there on the balcony. Her feminine little whimper drew his hoof to her cheek to cup her face. Her foreleg rose up and over his shoulder, pulling him near. The warm, milky glow of love flowed back and forth between them and by the time the kiss broke she was trembling.

Gazing into one another’s eyes, they wandered into her chambers to sit by a small hearthfire. Summer wasn’t freezing, but it did get chilly at night so Celestia often had a single log to see her through the night. Dimming the lights, they lay on their bellies before it—kissed once more—then silently enjoyed one another’s company until it was time for Big Mac to return home.

He rose to make his way out, but her large wing stopped him. Perhaps… just this evening… he might stay? He looked at her face, the quiet feminine want for male company. He smiled kindly, settling back down next to her. They didn’t bother to make for the bed. A blanket magicked across the room wrapped about them both. Celestia lay her head down, and he lay his chin across her withers.

While no, they didn’t make love, they certainly lay together that cool summer night. Celestia was in charge of all things in Equestria. She made all the decisions and told who to go where and do what. All day. Every day. It was a small and secret pleasure to be the submissive now and then. With a stallion’s caring head and weight upon her, it made her feel… smaller, somehow. She liked that. The ache of responsibility and the weight of her crown carried her tired eyes closed. At one point she felt herself being undressed of her vestments, and it was a strong back that bore her massive alicorn body to bed… but it was certainly Big Mac who nuzzled her and whispered her name before settling next to her, atop the covers, to sleep at her side.

End of Part 3

Public Opinion

Let the Silence Sing 2
Part 4: Public Opinion

Princess Celestia awoke with a jolt, for the sun was streaming in on her! Rising and almost cartwheeling over her own long legs she dashed to her balcony and threw the doors open. The birds sang to her, twitter-tweeting and flying in cute little formations around her before swooping off to the palace gardens below. While her mind was stutter-starting, she turned her head to look over at the Lunar Tower. Luna was leaning tiredly on the railing, all that distance away. When she spotted Tia, she gave an exhausted little wave before turning to retire for the day. Celestia waved back gratefully. She didn’t get to sleep in that often, why had nopony come to rouse her like they were supposed to?

Big Mac slowly lifted his head, blinking sleepily as she cantered back into the room and shut the balcony doors behind her. Their eyes met for a moment, and he offered her a sleepy smile. Rising and rolling off the bed, the red stallion glimpsed himself in a vanity mirror. The massive cow-lick on one side of his mane was simple magnificent. He scrubbed at it fiercely, embarrassed. Celestia went to don her vestments and go about her morning routine, when there was a knock at the door.

A maid had come with a breakfast cart, bearing a morning paper and a few other things with it. Her eyes locked on Big Mac, slipped over to Celestia, then the rumpled bed, then locked firmly on the floor. She bowed several times, excusing herself and leaving the cart right in the doorway before anypony could say anything. Big Mac felt a heat in his cheeks, murmuring under his breath.

Taking the cart into the room so he could close the door again, he flipped open the paper while sitting on his haunches. ‘How Does YOUR Stallion Stack Up to the Royal Coltfriend?’ The headline demanded. Big Mac’s eyes widened, and he quickly flipped to the appropriate page. On it, there was a long page of questions that mares could answer about their stallions, in comparison to Big Mac himself. He felt his cheeks getting redder and redder, for the picture they’d chosen was of a charging Big Macintosh from last year’s Ponyville Strong Stallion competition. He’d won that by only a few hairs, but the picture made him look like an over-sized Adoneighs. Flicking his eyes back and forth to read, he also saw ads for leather and iron yokes, stocks that showed the price of apples, and so much more.

Celestia hem-hemmed a little to get his attention, having finished brushing her mane and such for the morning. She saw his expression, and gently took the paper. She rolled her eyes with a light smirk, shrugging. Ponies clearly thought he was something if they were devoting all this to him! To make Big Mac feel better, she turned a few pages and showed him another article. ‘Celestia Pregnant?! The Foal Name that Shocked Luna!’ the headline blared. Big Mac gaped at the outright lie, and Celestia folded and tossed the paper in a waiting bedside bin. She’d never thought to outlaw sensationalized news—and if she’d tried it would have only gotten worse over time. So, better to let her little ponies express themselves with enthusiasm than try to stifle their… creativity. Big Mac glanced uncomfortably at a page that had fallen out. ‘If He’s Got Big Hooves and Ears, You’ll Have No Problems: A Bat-Mare’s Tale’ made him quickly ball it up and toss it as well.

Celestia smiled apologetically. If they were going to be together, no doubt Big Mac would be closely scrutinized by the public. They loved Celestia and wanted her to be happy at the best… or wanted her for themselves at the worst. There was bound to be plenty of both. She kissed his lips to assure him she wouldn’t be stolen away by some noble’s son or something. The red stallion nodded quietly, and they opened the balcony doors to enjoy the morning breeze while they ate.

Big Mac had to go back home. There were chores to be done and he couldn’t take too much in the ways of free time before summer got into fall. Soil needed to be turned over, dead trees ripped up and the Cider Festival was just around the corner as well. He had lots of responsibilities to be seen to, just like her.

Celestia smiled, sad to see him go but grateful for such a wonderful night’s rest.

=-=-=-=

Big Mac breathed a deep sigh of relief when he got back through the portal door and started towards the house. Canterlot always felt so big and intimidating, it was stressful sometimes. No doubt he’d hear it from Applejack about where he’d spent last night, much less the earful he’d get from Granny about staying in a mare’s bed out of wedlock… and then Applebloom would want to hear all about the palace. Maybe if he slipped his yoke on and got out into the hot field before anypony saw him, he could stay such questions until dinnertime. Big Mac gave pause. That sounded like a good plan. Smirking at his own brilliance, he veered one way towards the barn instead—only to run into a gaggle of reporters.

They swarmed over him instantly, sticking tape-recorders up under his nose. They asked questions, milling around him like so many parasprites. How did it feel to be the royal coltfriend?! How had he caught Celestia’s eye, living and working way out here?! Was she looking for a husband all this time and had just now made a bid?! Had the Apple Family made a deal with royalty when Ponyville had been established about eighty years ago, to marry off one of their future sons to Celestia herself?!

Big Mac froze like a deer in headlights, beads of sweat going down one side of his forehead. Pupils shrinking, the poor guy began to hyperventilate a little bit, looking at all the shouting ponies that wanted to know every little thing. Was Luna looking for a husband as well?! Would Equestria have a king and queen in the coming years!? What about Heirs!? Neither royal sister had any children on record, would there be foals?! Big Mac gaped, very nearly choking on his own spit.

Suddenly from on high, a squadron of Royal Guards lanced down to the earth. A poofy cloud exploded, revealing no less than a dozen of them. Golden armor shone like a streak of yellow lightning, shooting to the earth at breakneck speeds. The split air crack-boomed like thunder, sending ponies milling about and holding their heads in confusion. Big Mac found himself surrounded by a shining ring of solar guard muscle and spears pointed in all directions.

The Royal Coltfriend would not be harassed this way! Anypony that had questions could submit them in writing! Anypony that did not have an appointment with Royal Coltfriend Big Macintosh would vacate these premises right now, or be arrested! The thundering voice of the commander sent reporters fleeing every which way, cameras flashing as they went. As one, the squad turned to check on Big Mac. The poor guy looked ready to have a heart attack. Moving like a unit, they escorted him to the barn to recover himself. There they offered him water, a towel and an MRE alfalfa bar. Big Mac took them, still trying to get his breath back.

The captain pulled off his helmet and bowed, apologizing. They hadn’t thought that reporters would track down her Majesty’s companion so quickly. Thankfully, they’d been stationed in the airspace above Sweet Apple Acres just in case somepony tried to foalnap him or something. They’d spotted the herd of reporters right as Big Mac had run into them. They’d have to make patrolling circles around the property now, to make sure that didn’t happen again. Their Pegasus guards would be pleased to stretch their wings.

Big Mac took a swig of the water, mumbling his thanks. It hadn’t really occurred to the red stallion that he might literally be swarmed like that. Heaving a deep breath and having regained himself, he turned to go about his work for the day. The group of guards watched him go, but eventually he thought better of it. AJ would probably have a heart attack if she saw royal guards patrolling the skies over the orchards. Turning and beckoning the armored ponies with him, he reported to the house.

Applejack, Granny Smith and Applebloom were all seated around the breakfast table when he stepped in. Food paused on the way to mouths and they stared as his cow-lick, the tape recorder that had been left around his neck… and the tiny little hickie that was on the lower-front of his withers.

Applejack smirked, and smirked wide. She lowered her hat a little over her brow and grinned wickedly, opening her mouth to chirp somethin’ mean to her little brother. Granny Smith stood to scold him. How dare he be out all night, stay someplace else and not tell anypony?! Had he been in Canterlot with Celestia?! Couldn’t he have sent a note? They’d been worried! Them dang flabbin’ royal messengers could relay somethin’ to the house, couldn’t they?!

Then a dozen or so royal guards piled into the room behind Big Mac, looking rather sheepish. Big Mac looked back at them, then at his family again. He lowered his head a little until the tape recorder (he still didn’t know how he’d ended up with that) slid off his neck. It hit the floor, clicking into motion:

How did it feel to be the royal coltfriend?! How had he caught Celestia’s eye, living and working way out here?! Was she looking for a husband all this time and had just now made a bid?! Had the Apple Family made a deal with royalty when Ponyville had been established about eighty years ago, to marry off one of their sons to Celestia herself?!

Big Mac clicked it to stop before the more person questions started (Applebloom was there, after all). He smiled at his fellow Apples in a strained way. Applebloom burst into giggles. Her big brother needed protecting from all the scaaaaary reporters, did he!? Nyah-hahahaha! Applejack smiled sympathetically, but pushed out Big Mac’s chair with a hoof so he could sit with them. The red stallion eased himself down, relieved that they understood. Granny Smith grumbled about how courtin’ was nopony’s business but the ponies involved, folding her forelegs grumpily. The elderly mare looked at the far wall, where the gaggle of Royal Guards seemed to be making themselves at home. She looked at the floor, at all the dirt they’d tracked in.

Squawking angrily, she limped her way around the table and bapped the first one she could reach upside the head. The heard of armored ponies recoiled as she drove them out of the room, holding one by his ear. After a few minutes of shouting about privacy, family and the decency of home and sanctuary, she had them outside instead—most of them looking visibly rattled.

Big Mac sighed, but did not lift a hoof to help a single one of them. Applejack asked if everything was okay, if bein’ Celestia’s squeeze wasn’t getting’ to him because of all the public attention. The red stallion shook his head. If anything, it made it more interesting. He chuckled just a little.

End of Part 4

Ebonfeather's Plan

Let the Silence Sing 2
Part 5: Ebonfeather’s Plan

Big Mac stared at the newly turned-over field in front of him with a puzzled frown. He’d gotten up at the crack of dawn with the intention of doing a simple soil-turning today, before the summer heat took over. Keeping it all light and fluffy before any big freezes kept it healthier and promoted rainfall and such to keep the ground fertile. They did grow more than apples at Sweet Apple Acres, after all. Looking around, he spotted his guard-cloud, as he’d taken to calling it. The pegasi posted up there weren’t hard to spot, and one of them gave a friendly wave. The dirt on his nose was a rather obvious giveaway. Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, the great red stallion admired the field for a while longer while he puzzled over what to do with his morning.

Perhaps he would go visit Celestia, then, if his morning chores were over. He could be back by lunch and nopony would be any the wiser. Going to the grain silo and stepping through the portal doorway, he was gone. A pair of solar pegasi high-hoof’d with a chuckle once the door had shut behind him.

Big Mac was surprised to find that the palace was actually quite active in the early morn. The night-time courts were ending, so everypony was rushing about to turn in their paperwork, open curtains to let the sun in, and prepare for the new day. It was like a 24-hour restaurant or something, it was interesting to watch.

Prince Blueblood happened by just then as Big Mac stepped into the high-ceiling’d hallways, coffee hovering next to him as he went. Giving a welcoming shout, he came up to greet Big Mac with ghusto. Well if it wasn’t her Majesty’s perfect little apple, haha! Big Mac grunted a little as the well-meaning Prince slapped his back. Before he knew it, they’d stepped into the hallway traffic and Blueblood was leading him off to who knew where.

=-=-=-=

Celestia smiled in a strained way as the griffon king proposed a ball to be held in honor of their successful diplomatic steps. His son, Prince Ivoryclaw would be in attendance of course, in case her Majesty decided she liked those of royal blood better than a country bumpkin. Celestia would’ve scowled, but the past week of five-year contracts and good trade negotiations made her smile at his poor joke. She’d never met Ivoryclaw, and had heard nothing of the little princeling yet either. Probably another spoiled little princeling living the easy life on Daddy’s money.

Celestia sighed a little as she remembered how Prince Blueblood had been the same way, before she’d sent him off to make some friends in the tiny town of Rainbow Falls. He’d returned no more than a year later, a changed stallion. He was without a bit to his name, a long list of pen pals and a joyous heart. After asking for a thousand bits to build his own name from absolute scratch, he'd risen to be even mightier, and certainly more noble, than his father before him. She marveled, not for the first time, how happy a pony could make himself simply throwing them out of their comfort zone and into a healthy social life. Twilight and Blueblood were wonderful examples of this.

King Ebonfeather coughed twice and Celestia shook her head, apologizing for her thoughts having been elsewhere. He ruffled his feathers a little and straightened, so Celestia called to the nearest servant. There was to be a ball in a few days. Just a small one, with a couple of hundred ponies. Prince Ivoryclaw, King Ebonfeather, and his entourage would be in attendance, so fish would be on the menu of course. This made the King smile, for no griffon he could name could socialize and subsist on plants like ponies did.

=-=-=-=

Big Mac and Prince Blueblood chatted over coffee and tarts that morning, for Celestia was in audience with the griffon king. Prince Blueblood knew they should both stay out of the way while the royals played their power games and such. Big Mac nodded his understanding. So, being the gentlecolt host, Blueblood took him out on the town for a bit.

The visited a couple of antique stores, looked at firefly lamps, tempted a public restaurant but almost got mobbed so they had to run away—it was an interesting afternoon for both of them. They ended up in a park, side by side, staring at a pond and the foals playing on the other side. After a long bit of hesitation, Blueblood looked over at Big Mac. The red stallion turned as well. Blueblood wondered just what it was that made Big Mac the apple of Celestia’s eye, but it wasn’t something that a gentlecolt could just up and ask, so he decided on a smile instead.

Turning with a rumbly sound in his throat, Big Mac got into his saddlebags to share a pair of juice boxes with the Prince. Blueblood stared at him incredulously. Weren’t these for foal commoners to put in their school lunch bags? The red stallion sighed at the pampered Prince, showing him where to put the plastic bendy straw and then placing it between his hooves. Blueblood took a tentative sip, then smiled a bit. It wasn’t bad. The stallions sat there in stoic silence, enjoying the company and admiring the park around them. The wind ruffled their manes and, as one, both tilted their muzzles back to take in the scent of the breeze. It was peaceful.

=-=-=-=

When the daytime court came to its lunch hour, Prince Blueblood dropped Big Mac off just outside the throne room with a Canterlot-bought lunch at a kind word. Then he was off. Big Mac nodded to the trio of guards at the door as he went by. They saluted the Royal Coltfriend as he passed them.

The red stallion found King Ebonfeather at the neighponese table to one side of the throne, seated with Celestia. Her face lit up when she saw him coming, and she waved him over. They shared a cute nuzzle when he sat next to her. Precisely three of Ebonfeather’s tail feathers slid out of place when he saw this, but he quickly ruffled them back down again when nopony was looking. So, would Big Macintosh be attending the ball in these coming few days?

Big Mac stopped, looking up. A ball? Celestia gave a patient smile to the rather rude king. Big Mac had not been around when they’d decided to have the ball, she’d not asked him yet. And that being said… would he like to attend? Big Mac cocked his head, then smiled and nodded. The white mare was delighted. Big Mac wondered what he might wear to such a formal event, but surely Prince Blueblood would have his back for something as big as this. The stallion seemed to know Canterlot well enough to find all the most interesting shops. Finding a suit or a tuxedo or something would be easy enough.

Ebonfeather excused himself from the lunch table, to go and eat with his fellow griffons. Her Majesty and the royal consort-er-coltfriend!—would no doubt like some time together. Big Mac tilted his head, but paid it no heed. Celestia kept thinking of the beneficial work she’d been doing all week, as not to grab a hooffull of tailfeathers as he went. She had no doubt his son would be the same way. She wasn’t blind. Ebonfeather was going to have his son make a move on her at the ball. Good thing Big Mac was there, and he certainly made a better door or shield than a window.

That and… and… mmmh-mhh, apple fritter! How delightful! Celestia lost her train of thought right there.

End of Part 5

The Ball

Let the Silence Sing 2
Part 6: The Ball

Prince Blueblood and Big Macintosh finally appeared at the palace gates after hours of shopping around Canterlot. The poor red stallion had been made to try on cloaks, tuxedos, suits, ties, hats, even make-up! His tail wasn’t too happy either, for it had been ceremonially braided one way, then the other, before being allowed to obey gravity again. Whenever he complained Blueblood tsked at him, reminding him how important of an occasion this was going to be.

The red stallion rolled his eyes, but gave a beltish sort of yelp when he was whisked away by a group of mares under Blueblood’s command. Bodily lifted into the air, he was seen to the royal bath-house, where only the super-high-ups of Canterlot were allowed to go. Blueblood trotted along while the muscled Stallion was mare-handled into a hot bath. (Rather eager) mares gathered all around Big Mac as buckets of water splooshed over his head, soaps levitated this way and that, and sponges came to scrub him raw. Girlish giggling went back and forth while the helpless pony was turned over and over so they could get every bit of him. He coughed and spluttered while they lathered his tail up, then his mane. His cries for help went ignored as his coat became whiter and white. Soon, he looked like a pony made of whipped cream, they’d thrown so much soap over him.

The hard work of living on the farm turned the water a muddy brown, and they were forced to pour more and more of it. A startled, rather high-pitched whinny told Prince Blueblood they’d spared him no privacy for his colt parts. A long, frothing sort of spittle was hanging out of Big Mac’s mouth, and that had to be scrubbed off too. A few long, agonizing minutes later the red stallion stood, shining and clean. His mane had been braided like a mare’s, a bow had been put on his tail, and he was glaring murder at Prince Blueblood.

Big Mac clip-clopped over with clenched teeth, smelling like a freshly-picked rose. Blueblood smiled nervously, a drop of sweat going down the side of his temple. Big Mac seized him by his collar, raising a massive hoof to smack-a-filly. Then another body of white fur caught his eye, for Celestia was standing in the doorway. She’d come to have a bath too?

Why, Big Mac certainly looked wonderful this evening! Celestia’s eyes traveled him a couple of times, and the crew of bath ponies for the spa bowed low. The royal coltfriend had been scrubbed to a shine, just for her Majesty. Celestia tittered with laughter, putting a hoof over her mouth and pinkening in the cheeks. Big Mac was not a show dog, how silly of them to say such a thing! The red stallion blushed.

Big Mac lowered his smacking-a-filly pose, releasing Blueblood. The Prince coughed a little, straightening his collar. Well then! The boys still had preparing to do, if her Majesty didn’t mind! Throwing an arm around Big Mac, they started away before Celestia could get another word in. Big Mac saw himself in a mirror when they arrived at the Prince’s private apartments. He was cleaner than he ever remembered being. Prince Blueblood was very big on looks, so it was no big task to tame Big Mac’s mane, brush him down, and see to his hooves a bit. A formal night, a royal formal night that is, required that one looked one’s best! Big Mac looked himself over self consciously. He didn’t have a spec of dirt on his hooves, his mane all went one way thanks to Blueblood’s brush, and he was half-sure there was a spell on his coat for it shone so brightly. He looked like a demi-god of stallions, a stallion of noble birth and breeding! The red stallion snorted at Blueblood’s comment, but had to sit still so they could get his outfit on.

Despite hours and hours of shopping, trying things on, and fussing over what he might wear to the ball, the two stallions had decided on something rather minimal for him. After Big Mac had been cleaned up, they’d found a black top hat and a black bowtie for him, little else. Sure, they could’ve gotten him a petticoat, a cane, snap-on cuffs with golden cufflinks… but it just didn’t seem to fit him. Big Mac’s large body-type screamed to be free and seen in all its natural glory. Why, that was why Blueblood rarely wore full outfits, he had a nice barrel as well! Big Mac nodded that this made sense. Cramming himself into a suit or something fancy didn’t sound like something he wanted to do for a party, not even a formal one.

The red stallion stopped to admire himself in the mirror once more for a few long moments while Blueblood fussed with his own mane and tie. He looked… fancy. He kind of liked it. Perhaps it was just the top hat and bowtie, but he looked like a real gentlecolt. Offering a coy, winning sort of smile, he turned sideways to make sure he looked okay from end to end. Blueblood patted his back. He was ready.

=-=-=-=

The ball had filled in with ponies and a smattering of griffons all too easily that night, but none more easy to spot than Prince Ivoryclaw, son of King Ebonfeather. He was a tall, slender thing with shining feathers. No muscle to speak of, he had long and gangly legs, carrying himself with a quiet sort of ease. His robes flowed about him, for he moved with enough grace to give the illusion that he was hovering, not walking. It was a little mesmerizing. What was so strange, though, was his eyes. Pink and sharp, they betrayed his albinoism for anypony or anyfeather that looked upon him. No wonder he was so skinny, perhaps it made him sickly… he was no less graceful though, and it made him look a little otherworldly. His quiet smile made more than a couple of servant mares shiver in the hindquarters.

Prince Ivoryclaw and King Ebonfeather had arrived together, then Celestia, then Princess Luna. The nobles were supposed to gather first to let the royals be ‘fashionably late’, so they could slide into the crowd unnoticed and mingle. As if anypony wouldn’t notice two griffons or two alicorns twice the height of anyone else there. Ah well, it was tradition.

Prince Ivoryclaw kissed each royal hoof, offering thanks in his whispy little voice. Luna’s cheeks were a deeper shade than Celestia’s. She was still getting over Ambassador Doppleganger, for the poor thing had been sent to Zafrica for the next five years… it just hadn’t worked out for them. However, it was to Celestia that Ivoryclaw paid his deepest respects and compliments, which made Luna’s muzzle rumple up jealously.

Perhaps the Princess would honor him with a dance, Ivoryclaw’s move was forward and rather obnoxious. Celestia knew the game, and slipped easily into the role. They’d be gone tomorrow, all she had to do was verbally fence until the morrow, then she’d be left in peace. But, she had no doubt there was a battle ahead.

Ivoryclaw’s father had told him that her Majesty had taken an interest in courting as of late. He brought it up like Big Mac wasn’t a factor. It was very romantic, seeing a being as high and beautiful as she finally considering settling down with a companion. Everypony and Everyfeather thought so. Why, Celestia could certainly have her pick of any male, of any species, she pleased! It was true!

Celestia was not pleased with his banter, but smiled and stepped fluidly to the music with him. While he was an interesting creature, albino and graceful, he was clearly angling for station at the behest of his father. Out of the corner of her eye, the Princess could see Ebonfeather sitting at one of the rest-tables with a rather wide goblet of dark wine in his talons. His eyes were locked on the two of them like everything was going according to plan. She didn’t like it.

Ivoryclaw serenaded Celestia with compliments of her power and paradise-like country, slipping ever-closer to mentioning the wonderful combination that their two nations might make via an alicorn and griffon coupling. Ta’hahhh! The sun Princess humored him a bit, looking about for Big Mac until—ah! There he was!

Big Macintosh and Prince Blueblood were the last of the higher-ups to arrive at the ball. The two of them stood atop the entrance dais. A stray reporter or two snapped their pictures, and Big Mac had no doubt he’d be in the paper again soon. He spotted Celestia in the crowd (it was hard not to, since she was two stretches taller than everypony else) and smiled grandly. Blueblood saw a little deeper than that, however.

The Princeling’s eyes flicked from Celestia’s expression, to Ivoryclaw’s proximity, to Ebonfeather’s location. He wasn’t surprised, but it was rather blatant and tactless. They thought they might turn Celestia’s head just like that, huhm? They’d have to see about that—ah?! Just as suddenly, half a dozen griffon’s stood between them and where Celestia was. My my, the Prince and the Royal Coltfriend were best pals now, were they? That was adorable! They simply had to tell them all about what royalty in Canterlot did for fun! Clever girls, thought Blueblood, running defense for Ebonfeather. Sure enough, Blueblood caught the King’s eye over the crowd for a split second.

The music slowed as one griffon whispered to another who whispered to another who got the band to change its tune. A more romantic tune began to play so that closer, more intimate dances might begin on the dance floor. A wider circle was made for Celestia, of course, as she was dancing with a Prince. It may as well have put a spotlight on them, for the other couples were much smaller and seemed to blend into the background.

Big Mac had no patience for such things. It wasn’t as though he had a royal reputation to ruin, and he’d seen the same things Blueblood had. Squeezing past the intercepting mares after Blueblood had whispered something important to him, the red stallion made his way through the crowd.

Celestia’s uncomfortable frown showed in her wings, for they drooped a bit when the white and pink prince invaded her personal space. She tried to think of her little ponies, and how well the trade agreements were going. They’d be gone tomorrow, they’d be gone tomorrow. She felt his pink-tipped claws travelling up under her wings, a rather personal area on a pegasus’ body. It was beyond the shoulders and under the primary muscles. Without meaning to, Celestia let out a very slight whimper, clenching her teeth as her brow furrowed in feminine distress.

Something bap-bap-bapped Ivoryclaw’s back. He turned, his rather lewd expression still on his face, straight into a glaring Big Macintosh Apple. Celestia gasped a little, for he looked positively stunning in his top hat and bowtie… but he looked furious. Big Mac was stallion enough to know where you shouldn’t be touchin’ mares, much less on a dance floor, much less when they already had a coltfriend. He grabbed the Prince by his collar, raising his smack-a-filly hoof. Ebonfeather jumped out of his seat with a squawk. His son was being assaulted by some peasant! Big Mac glanced past the frightened Princeling at Celestia. Her eyes looked frightened, for she’d never seen him angry before.

Taking a deep breath, Big Mac did what Prince Blueblood had whispered to him before crossing the ballroom. Reaching, he undid his bowtie, and lightly whapped Ivoryclaw’s beak with it. The griffon looked startled, and Ebonfeather skidded to a halt. Royal protocol?! Where had that dumb red peasant learned such a thing!? When the griffon Prince gave no reaction, Big Mac whapped him with the bowtie again to make sure. The gauntlet had been thrown. There was to be a royal duel for Celestia’s honor!

End of Part 6

Honor Duel

Let the Silence Sing 2
Part 7: Honor Duel

Tables had been moved. Lines had been drawn on the pristine marble floor. Celestia herself had been herded to a front-row seat, fretting with her eyes as the combatants stepped forward. Nobles gathered around like it was a school-yard fight, a perfect circle of staring onlookers. King Ebonfeather sat to one side, arms folded angrily. Princess Luna stood between several guards (all of whom just DARED anyfeather to make a move on her so they could challenge a griffon to their own duel).

The rules were simple, the first one to die or leave the circle would lose. The challenge had been issued by Big Macintosh, so the weapons would be selected by Prince Ivoryclaw. As there were no wing swords on hand, he instead demanded a pair of golden spears from the solar guards standing by a column. They were begrudgingly hoof’d over and the Prince tossed one to Big Macintosh, who only clumsily caught it.

Celestia stared in horror. If something happened to Big Mac all for the sake of her honor she could never forgive herself! But the challenge had already been issued, her hooves had been tied from interfering. Ponies and griffons alike widened the circle in case one of the dueling pair should suddenly fly out of the ring.

Prince Ivoryclaw tossed his cloak with a flourish. He had a cat’s waistline, and Big Mac had no doubt every inch under his feathers was muscle. The lonely Prince’s life consisted of court ettiquite and fencing lessons, no doubt. Smoothing his tail-feathers a bit, he took up the golden spear and gave it a whistling couple of whirls. There was skill in his wrists, it was easy to see, for he could toss it back and forth, spin it about his back, and still catch it over his head while staying in perfect stance.

Big Mac cocked his head, turning down the offer to just give up or even take a suit of armor to aid him. He’d wrestled Applejack enough times and been to enough sporting events, he knew how to rough-house. He couldn’t say he’d ever dueled for a mare’s honor… but you learned somethin’ new every day, right?

The first hit went right across Big Mac’s muzzle and the spatter of blood was as red as his coat. Everypony gasped, for the blow had snapped the stallion’s head to one side. Had he not been paying attention?! What if he’d been hit with the sharp end of the spear?! He could’ve lost an eye right then! Very much focused now, Big mac held the spear under one arm and stood waiting. Ivoryclaw danced about, just as much to show off for the audience as to confuse Big Mac’s eyes.

The red stallion took a half-hearted swing and it was easily parried away. Then another, then another. There really wasn’t any way to get to the griffon prince with this silly stick weapon, the farmer knew. Two, three, four kisses across Big Mac’s muzzle made welts rise. He was toying with him.

Celestia watched the two of them dance back and forth. This was a political nightmare, either way it went. If Big Mac won the griffon’s would be resentful, the trade agreements might fall through! If Ivoryclaw won, he would demand courting rights by the very same traditions that forced him to duel Big Mac in the first place. The thought of losing her big red pony made her hooves steeple together in a rather timeless expression of feminine worry.

Droplets of blood spilled when Ivoryclaw got around to using the pointy end of the spear. The front of Big Mac’s barrel had a long cut, which bleed onto the white floor. His belting grunt of pain made everypony flinch. The red stallion took to charging into his enemy, spear raised, but the Prince was too nimble. He couldn’t get close enough to tackle him to the ground. Bucking was out of the question too, he would only expose his back to the warrior Prince. Ivoryclaw bade him once more to give up, but the stubborn apple would not.

Big Mac found himself at the center of the circle, watching Ivoryclaw whap him in the side, in the face, in the legs. The griffon’s agility was certainly impressive, but Big Mac was too well-built to be cut down easily. Spreading his wings, Ivoryclaw took to the air, swooping about. Big Mac held his spear up, but a quick swoop-and-grab robbed him of his weapon. Rearing angrily, the red stallion flailed his hooves like a war-horse, stamping like a crack of thunder. It was like being attacked by a huge bee, he just couldn’t get his hooves on the guy!

Ivoryclaw, sensing victory, made a dive-bomb for a finishing blow! Time slowed for both of them. His spear passed Big Mac’s shoulder… dug into his side, hit a rib! Big Mac’s front legs rushed desperately up, grasping the spear before it impaled him. Using the Prince’s momentum, he flailed all of his mighty weight backward to wrest the spear away from him. But no, he would not let go. Big Mac flipped onto his back, all four massive hooves in the air. The spear did an impressive one-eighty with him, flopping the Prince lightly on his back—just outside the circle.

Oof!

There was utter silence for a few moments, then the cheering started. The Prince lay on his back, more stunned by the loss than his landing, and the spear clattered away as he slowly let go of it. Big Mac rolled onto his side, bleeding rather badly, then upright. Celestia rushed forth out of the crowd to embrace him, almost stepping on the Prince in the process. His blood spattered her perfect white coat, and she rushed him away to the medical wing.

Ebonfeather went to collect his son, sighing angrily. There would be no shot at Celestia’s hoof at this point. They may as well leave. Gathering up everyfeather as he went, and dragging his shocked son along, the griffons made for the exits. The cheering crowd was at their backs.

=-=-=-=

Ten stitches and a hoof-full of bandaids later, Big Mac was looking much better. Celestia fussed and worried over him while a private nurse helped to patch him up. The royal coltfriend apologized for ruining the evening, but the alicorn would have none of it.

When the nurse was done and they were at last alone, Celestia took him into her arms. He rested his head on her breast, sighing comfortably. His nose, his ribs, his face all hurt. Bein' the royal Coltfriend was hard work! But, he would get over it. It wasn’t every day you got to duel for a mare’s honor, after all.

End of Part 7

Approval

Let the Silence Sing 2
Part 8: Approval

Big Macintosh’s world was swimming. He’d had such a long day, he didn’t remember collapsing. Getting up before dawn, six hours of shopping with Blueblood, the bath fiasco, the ball, the duel, then the doctor—what had happened after that? He didn’t remember. He breathed long, restful breaths. He was wet, and warm. Was it a bath? Another bath, so soon?

Luna jolted to a halt in the doorway of the royal bath house. She did not mean to barge in on yon romance, how embarrassing! A quick clippity-clop of hooves nearby sounded panicked and her rump hit the doorframe.

The white mare tittered lightly, not at all disturbed. She was just seeing to Big Mac’s aches and pains. The bath seemed the best place to not be disturbed. As if listening, the red stallion’s body went more slack and his head lolled about.

Luna paused awkwardly, staring at her sister sharing a bath with her consort. There was a long silence. Were these his horseshoes, on the edge of the water? They were monstrous! Celestia delicately asked if Luna needed something, laying Big Mac’s tired head against her shoulder. Luna was going to bathe and then congratulate her sister’s consort on a duel well-fought. She didn’t think he knew how many problems he’d solved by winning.

Celestia frowned a little, her nose running back and forth through Big Mac’s mane.

The royal guard had begun to like him a bit more, Luna explained. They didn’t think that he could protect Celestia as they could. But trial by combat had certainly proven that he could. Even the nobles had begun speaking positively of him now. Celestia looked shocked. Indeed, they thought him a country bumpkin with no mind at all, but seeing him invoke such an upright and ancient tradition of dueling had certainly made him popular with a few of them. Luna smiled a bit wider. Celestia’s look made her wilt a little. Was she not happy he’d trumped the Ivory Prince? He had no claim to even try to court her at this point. She’d be left in peace with yon… piece. Luna gestured at Big Mac, who was floating on his back in the spa-like bath.

Celestia just wished it hadn’t come to violence. She was stroking Big Mac’s face a few times as she lamented. Enough healing spells had gotten rid of the welts, but they could still be seen as little marks. She worriedly wondered what his family would think of her when they heard about the whole fiasco.

Twas he who initiated the duel, though, and won! Luna insisted she should be proud and happy, turning about. She promised to lock the door, winking at her sister as she went. Celestia had the decency to blush and look down.

=-=-=-=

“Her Majesty’s Beau, Big Macintosh! Salute!” Big Mac startled when two lines of gold-armored soldiers suddenly stood at attention, hooves snapping up. He froze, looking back and forth between them. A decorated captain approached, much to Celestia’s amusement, with a ceremonial pillow bearing a bronze-colored medal. “On behalf of the armed forces of Equestria and all her holdings, I would like to present you with this honorary medal of bravery.” He tossed the pillow to one side where to was expertly caught by a standing cadet. Leaning, he put it around a confused Big Mac’s neck. “For defending her Majesty Princess Celestia’s honor when we… could not.” He had to force the last bit out, his ears turning down. “Forgive us all for doubting you, Big Mac,” he said earnestly. The white alicorn’s brow went up. Every guard present removed his helmet, standing arm’s length from his fellow, still saluting.

“Eyuup,” Big Mac smiled a bit. With that one word, every guardspony present went to his front knees in a bow of respect. The red stallion suddenly felt much, much bigger than he already was, and his cheeks darkened. After a few silent moments, the gathering dispersed.

“Captain Light Arrow, was that really necessary?” Celestia said gently.

“We didn’t think you’d agree to a proper ceremony your Majesty,” said the captain coyly, putting his helm back on. “But it’s important for us to express our approval of the royal coltfriend as a group, being that we are your Majesty’s protectors.”

“…I see,” was all Celestia could think to say, a smile finding only one side of her face.

“You may keep him, your highness,” said the captain rather cheekily. Big Mac snorted, a smile already cracking as he turned to canter away.

“You might say I have hundreds of big brothers, the way he talks sometimes,” Celestia said fondly, shaking her head and sighing.

“Eyuup.”

“Come, we’ll go and rest for the evening,” Celestia said, nodding towards the already setting sun. He agreed, and they were away. Finally arriving at the Princess’ private chambers, both of them paused in the doorway. The two guards on duty smirked a little, but said nothing.

Celestia’s room had been positively buried in flowers! Red roses for love. Blue baby’s breath for intimacy. Pink carnations for luck. The two of them stared around in wonder, squeezing into the room and just barely getting the door closed. She leaned, closing her wings carefully and getting one of the many cards attached to the bouquets. “Warmest wishes, from Noble House Darter,” she read, admiring the dozen roses in the crystal vase before her. “From Noble House Turner,” she read another, looking at the dark wine bottle and ice bucket. She read through half a dozen more while Big Mac stood, looking around in wonder. “It seems we’ve met with a bit of public approval from the noble houses of Canterlot, my love,” Celestia smiled a little embarrassedly.

“Yup,” Big Mac had his nose in a fancy chocolate box, murmuring with approval. Well hadn’t this just turned out nicely for the two of them?

Celestia turned from pile to pile, trying to find her furniture as best she could. Every shelf, chair and table had been weighed down with gifts for the pair of them. The Princess nosed open a box when Big Mac wasn’t looking to find a quartet of scarlet, silken leg stockings. Pupils shrinking she quickly closed it again, muzzle scrunching embarrassedly.

Big Mac emerged from one side of the madness with an iron crown on his head, dotted with apple-shaped designs. He smirked at her, cocking his head. All hail king apple!

She playfully bowed before he put it aside and they clambered onto the bed (the only place that hadn’t been piled with gifts). Sitting side by side they looked around, just taking it all in. Celestia was afraid to light the hearth, for fear the whole place might go up in flames. One of her large white wings lifted, laying out over his back. He leaned into her with a purring growl sort of sound, and they shared the blessed silence together. The door locked with a flick of her magic, and the curtains drew themselves. No outside world. No farm. No Canterlot. Just each other. For a few blessed hours each day.

Smiling and finally using his strength on her, Big Mac leaned hard on the Princess until she was on her back. She drew her hooves up shyly, smiling as her hair bannered out under her head like a living flag. Smiling only wider her kissed her barrel, her shy pink belly, and each of her legs and wings. The light giggling floated through the room like music, “Oh, Big Mac…” she cooed softly. He leaned up and over her face, tenderly removing her crown and regalia. They tinkled to the ground with the sound of light bells. The searching velvet of the end of his muzzle found the nape of her neck and she gave a feminine little gasp. Warm, milky heat passed back and forth between them. Her heart stilled but for a moment when his lips parted to speak a proper sentence.

“Ah love you, Suh-lestia,” he murmured, before laying down over her for more kisses.

THE END