“Hello, Mr. Nochee-wo,” I was greeted as I once again entered Celestia’s study, by the princess herself, “How are you feeling today?”

Celestia once again laid relaxed on her, I decided, favourite pillow divan. I had been summoned by one of her guards only moments after suffering through lunch. Not that the food was bad, but Browns continues snickers and jokes at my expense had made it down right unpleasant. The fact that I, a seemingly adult unicorn hybrid couldn’t use his horn, was apparently the funniest thing in his mind. Big Coin was, if a bit stoic, nice company, and thankfully when lunch was done and over had reined the idiot in.

“A bit sore, but fine.” I responded with a smile, feeling spirited now that my shoulder only twinged, “Yourself?”

“I am good, thank you for asking.” Celestia returned the smile, though it did not quite reach her eyes, I felt. “Keeping good to your promise?”

“Yeah, barely seen a soul,” Mostly true. I added in an afterthought. It was of course impossible to not be seen, and the cafeteria lady had not been my fault, and I hadn’t even exchanged as much as a word with her. Otherwise it must have been a quiet time of the day as I had not met or seen another pony on my way up.

I saw her nod slightly to my answer. She beaconed a hoof towards one of her pillows, “Please take a seat.”

I made my awkward way over to one and with the grace bestowed upon me sat my bum down on it. And then shifted a bit to get my tail out of the way as it got stuck and sent a most curiously uncomfortable feeling I had yet to experience, close to how my wings felt odd, it was going to be hard getting used to all of these extra limbs. It was weird having one as it felt like it was more in the way than doing any good, though I suppose I would have looked weird without one… so maybe it did some good.

There we sat in silence looking at each other in what was becoming fast growing custom. I, unsure of what to say or ask, waited for her to instigate conversation, and she calmly waited, content to let the silence lumber between us. I was absently wondering if that was some kind of habit she must have picked up through her life, something that probably was not that far from the truth. No one lived for a thousandth and plus years without picking up a few habits, bad as well as good. It did not take a genius to understand that she did not find my presence enjoyable, yesterday a clear show of just how much. Yet here I was. Was it her good nature that kept me unshackled or was she playing at something? Was I an unknown, better kept close ‘til she knew more? Or was I overthinking it all?

I shook my head slowly, an amused grin sneaking its way onto my lips.

“Something you find funny?” my eyes leapt up from the ground in a jerk and at the source of the question. Celestia still laying there, comfortable as ever, one of her brows raised curiously.

“No, not really.” I shifted my weight slightly from my injured shoulder to relieve some pressure from it.

Her expression held for a few more seconds, her eyes roaming up and down my body, causing no small self-conscious thoughts. Thoughts that my presence maybe wasn’t entirely pure in essence, I shifted again, minute, and barely enough for even me to call it movement.

“You look in need of a bath,” she lightly stated, I could not help but cringe. Do I really look that bad? “You really need to get your wings looked after,” she gave me a pointed look as she again looked me in the eyes.

She rose to her hooves with practiced ease and stepped up to me. Head held high and looked down at me, quite the imposing stature.

“You have been shown the baths yet?”

“No,” I said weakly, doing my best to fight the urge to cower.

“Follow me.” She said, with just a hint of a smile on her lips.

Vladimir, joined by an escort of two guards, made his way down into Canterlot town, and down a rather dingy court, well, dingy by his standards. He stopped at the last house, just before the mouth of the cul-de-sac. As his file had described he now stood in front of a small house he could only describe as a shack. Only thing that gave away that it was inhabited was the lack of snow on the raised stone steps before the door.

Vladimir chanced a glance down at his hooves, and promptly made a disgusted face the muddy snow slush had stained not only his cornet band but the cuffs of his ivory white suit.

“What are you waiting for,” he demanded of one of his guards, “knock on the door.” he made an over exaggerated pointing motion with his head towards the door.

The guard leapt into action and quickly knocked firmly on the wooden boards. Vladimir feared for a second the door would give in, he was not in mind to have to pay for having it replaced.

He was close to mind having the guard risk knocking on the door again, but before he had the time to give the order, the door creaked open just a smidge. A suspicious eye could be seen in the crack, studying them for a second before the pony opened it fully.

“Ah, Blueblood! Come in, come in.” a wizened old stallion called, and waved him in.

He hesitated for a bare second before he made his way inside, kicking the dirt off of his hooves on the doorframe. He was more impressed with the inside of the building than he was of its outside, the walls lined with books and files, every spare space was filled with art, fine cloths, and he even spied a collection of old wine bottles tucked just to the side of a desk that had seen its share of use. In short words, he wouldn’t even want to be associated with the place. But he supposed if he got what he wanted out of the visit it would be worth the potential backlash this meeting would bring.

The door slammed shut behind him, and he heard what must have been one of his guards hiss in pain as the door had probably made his muzzle an inch shorter. He couldn’t help the smirk that snaked its way onto his lips. A small remnant, a bad habit so to speak, from his days in the guard, he had picked up a bit of morbid amusement from others misfortunes.

“It has been ages since I saw you last, you were a mere little tyke running around your fathers legs last time, I remember.” The elder pony said, tapping his temple with a vry little smile playing on the elder’s face as he trotted his way past Vlademir.

“I would imagine.” Blueblood said as he made to follow the surprisingly energetic pony. He did not remember.

“Please, please take a seat,” he beaconed towards a sofa, once upon a time it probably was pristine, and expensive, a proper place to treat guests to, but now it was worn and well sat-in. He none to happily sat down on it, at least it was comfy. “Want anything to drink, tea, or maybe coffee?”

“No, I am fine, thank you.” He raised a hoof to empathise his point.

“Fine, fine,” the energetic elder said as he took his place on another sofa, even more worn with use, opposite Blueblood, “it has been a while since I had a Blueblood under my roof, so, what can old Scry do for you?”

Right down to business.

“I need you to find somepony, somepony to replace the current Councillor of Public relation.”

“Ah, nasty one that one is. Knew you would come by when I heard,” Scry said with a knowing grin, “I will see what I can find. You know my standing rates? Good.” he said when Vladimir nodded. “Is that all?”

“Ye-, no,” Blueblood stopped himself, there was one more thing he wanted to know, “There is one more. I want to know who this pony is, the one the rumours are all about.”

Scry stopped himself from answering immediately, for once he was caught unprepared, he had not even considered investigating the topic of the rumours, usually ponies came to him to find out the source of the rumours, not the truths behind them, maybe for once he would not play a pivotal role in a hush campaign, or even revenge ploy. Before it was just business, now he was interested himself, there actually was a stallion mixed in it all, who would have known.

“I will see what I can find.”

“Here we are.” Celestia jovially spoke, opening a set of double doors.

The smells that bombarded me clued me in to where the portal led. The air almost misting as the warm, and highly moisturized air, intermingled with the one outside. Smells of bath salts and other perfumed substances made its way into my nose.

Celestia barely paused as she guided me inside.

The bath was more cramped than I imagined it would be. Consider who it was made for, it was practically Spartan. If one could consider three smaller pools with lavish mosaics, wall paintings that would put most church walls to great shame, and what appeared to be staff working in it.

Speaking of which there was three. One pink and two white mares, there were a little colour difference in the two white mares, one was more off-blue, the other off-green. The pink mare had an auburn coloured mane and tail, while the two white ones shared the same brown-red colour. Sisters maybe?

“Sweet Mane.” Celestia spoke to the pink one.

“Yes, your Majesty?” She responded giving a bow, a much more reserved act compared to… well anyone I’d seen so far. It was practically no more than an elaborate nod.

“Spruce him up.” Was her simple command, and she turned to leave. I caught her eye, arcing a questioning brow towards her. She did not bother to reply and the doors swung quietly closed behind me. The question caught in my throat.

I heard one of the ponies left in the room whisper quietly, just outside of my hearing range.

Turning back to the bath staff I found them staring, the two white sisters’ heads close to one another, the off-green one froze mid word when my attention was directed towards them.

“The rumours are true then?” asked the pink one, Sweet Mane was it? She seemed older compared to the other two. Her coat colour dulled, and had more than a few white strands mixed into her darker coloured mane and tail. She easily looked and carried herself like a matron, while the two younger seemed almost vibrant in both colour and energy.

My eyes instantly snapped onto the mares own.

“Wha- no, no they aren’t!” I quickly replied, a bit too quick.

“No?” Sweet Mane asked, her tone drifted into a sigh, “Could have fooled me, goodness knows she needs it.”

“Need what?” I could not help to ask.

“Companionship,” she simply replied. Her words did not come to as much of a surprise. She was an old horse, a very old one. Immortality was in a way a horrible curse, watching the world change, watching the faces of friends and family be exchanged and replaced by a younger generation many times over. To have the only constant be… you. I could see what she saw in me. Something new and something that gave a promise, and a hope to ease the pains and the barriers erected and built over a millennia. Sweet Mane’s words were meant without innuendo. A interpretation the younger ones did not fully share if their conspiratorial smiles and badly concealed and bubbly expressions was to go by.

“Girls, stop dawdling and get to work,” Sweet Mane ordered, “go on, get the rough-bin!”

Their mind shaken from their fantasies they scurried off through a side door.

“Rough bin?”

“What? You think I will let you into the pool in your sorry state, then you are sourly mistaken mister.” She eyed me for the first time with an expression drawn half way into a disgusted scowl. An expression I was surprised to see… then again this was Canterlot. The place was full of snobs and other high ranking members of society, some of it must rub off on even the most down to earth of ponies, it only made sense. Then again, even though I brushed myself I still must smell, my hair was unruly and I was covered in nasty bruises. I must not have been the prettiest of sights.

I soon came to know the ‘Rough-bin’; an old weathered wooden bowl usually used for cleaning rugs, but at times ponies, such as in my case. Without prompt I was rudely dumped into the bowl of barely above lukewarm water and scrubbed none too gently. My hair and tail was roughly combed, knots plied with practiced hooves, and scissors. My wings got preened; feathers removed, some cut, and brushed into place. All the while getting sneering comments, poking both fun, and reprimanding me for the ill care I had given them. Most vocal was the greener sister, having a pair of wings of her own.

My all smarted after the rough treatment I had been given by the heavy duty brush, its bristles hard and stiff left nothing but acing skin and what I hoped was my coat. A lot of small orange hairs floated on the surface on the dirty brown-grey water of the tub together with tussles of long grey strands.

After getting another bowl of water dumped over my head I was urged out of the tub, and got lathered in strong scented soap. My hair and tail got a particularly frothy treatment before I got pushed into the smallest of the pools. The water was much warmer than the tub’s. At once the mares was at me again, scrubbing and rinsing me with considerably softer brushes and scrapes.

It wasn’t until later while I was idly sitting there, getting my mane and tail fine combed, that I realized the scene. I was wondering why it never occurred to me before that moment. I was sitting there, getting pampered by what must be two very flattering young mares that would probably have many young stallions hot and bothered, and an older matron that was probably far from bad looking herself. It got me wondering, a few stray thoughts really, as to why? I had gotten a new body, that had, for a lack of better words, an inbuilt motor functions. It was the only way I could explain at just how easy it was for me to move all my limbs, I had two extra attached to my back, and even though it was a struggle to make them move as I wanted I still could. And if it was true why shouldn’t I have gotten the rest of the instincts too?

Except for a few words exchanged between the working mares and a few hurt squawks from me when they went a bit too rough over my bruises, the whole ordeal was done in silence. I wasn’t supposed to talk, and the mares were content to work their magic.

“There you go, Mister,” Sweet Mane said all smiles, as she pushed me in front of a full wall length mirror, “Looking like a proper stallion of your stature.”

I barely recognized myself; the sprawling bed of hair that earlier would have put Einstein to shame now laid smooth along my neck. The barely tamed chaos that had been my coat not laid orderly, the light giving it a slight sheen. What remained of my bruises was now well hidden, still visible but now you had to actually look to notice them. My wings was however the biggest difference, no longer did they look like a puffy and broken mess like before, they actually looked like wings! Awkwardly I stretched one of my wings out, a bit self-conscious over just how… foalish my control over them was. It felt embarrassing having an audience, I could see a glimpse of the two sisters watching me with interest.

It was obvious even to my eyes how extensive the restoration had been, again nothing that would be obvious at first glance.

I couldn’t help but to straighten my form at the sight, a smile gracing involuntarily at my lips as I took in for the first time what others had seen. It brought a silent laugh as I remembered the Stallion I had literary bumped into,

“Thank you.” I softly spoke to the pink mare standing a respectful distance to my side.

“Off you go then.” Sweet Mane urged, her smile widened in satisfaction at the sincere words. “You got better places to be than here.”

I could only nod, there was no point staying watching them clean up the soapy mess my… cleaning, had caused.

The doors handles lit up in a green and brown aura respectively. Curious to note my guards had remained unchanged, their shift must have been extended. They must have heard Sweet Mane, it spoke loads for their training and discipline that they timed opening the double-doors with my approach.

I did not spare them much more than a glance to confirm that yes, both of them where Big Coin and Brown.

Author's Note

Here yah go.