The Price of Love

“Talk about a week of hell. Feels good to finally have the inspections done and over with. Damn hard to believe we were able to pull off a ninety-eight percent on the drill portion. Then again, the First Sarge would have killed us all, had we messed that up,” Sergeant Dancing Dead proclaimed before taking a drink from his beer. It was a well earned beer too, having done well in the Princess’s Inspection, which his Battalion had just completed that afternoon. Overall, the whole unit received a score of ninety-five percent, which was considered an outstanding score, considering that Princess Luna had an eye for detail that bordered on insane perfectionist. “I hope that we don’t have to go through that again anytime soon,” he said, slamming his now empty glass down on the table.

Sergeant Flash Sentry polished off his own glass before he replied. “Yeah. The room inspections were even tougher. Princess Twilight is a perfectionist when she inspects a room. But,” he paused as he waved a waitress over to order another round, “Princess Twilight was most impressed with my room, which was the only room to score a perfect score.”

Here we go again, Dead thought to himself. He knew what was coming, having heard it a million times in various forms. Ever since the two of them had joined the Royal Guard, Dead had heard his friend carry on about how much he loved Twilight Sparkle. Flash would talk about how she happened to smile at him when he had held a door open for her, or how she looked so cute with how much she was always studying, or about a million other nonsensical ways that a pony deeply infatuated with another would carry on. And on. And on some more. Seriously, his friend needed to get laid. That solved everything, and Dead said so.

“You just don’t understand, my friend,” Flash told him. “You don’t understand what true love is all about—”

“Says the guy who probably clops to her every night! Seriously, dude! This is starting to become borderline stalkerish, and frankly, it is creeping me out. Besides, you wouldn’t stand a chance with her anyways,” Dead said as he rose from the table. Not wanting to hear any more of his friend’s puppy-love babbling, he started towards the restrooms.

He was stopped by a hoof on his shoulder which spun him around. The popping veins along the forehead and the stance told Dead just how insanely crazy Flash was for the Princess, with the important words being insane and crazy. There was not a lot that would set Flash off like this, but Sergeant Dead just happened to do one of the few things that did. Breaking into his own fighting stance, Dead warns him to back off. “Hooves off, bro! I don’t know what your problem is, but you’re acting like a fuckin foal. You’re pretty damn ignorant if you think the Princess would ever consider someone as crazy as you!”

Maybe it was the alcohol which lowered his inhibitions, whereas they had been downing beers all evening ever since the Platoon had been dismissed. Or maybe it was the built up stress that went along with a Princess’s Inspection that had not yet been properly relieved. Either way, When Flash turned around, Dead did not expect for his friend to come back around again, this time, swinging his Royal Guard helmet. When the helmet connected, it sent Dead sprawling. Flash quickly pounced onto his friend with hooves flailing. Dead quickly responded by bracing his hind hooves for a kick to Flash’s midsection, launching the orange Pegasus onto a nearby table. The fight was on!

And just as quickly, the fight was over. The pair of them found themselves both tackled to the floor. When they looked up, both of them quickly lost all thoughts of continuing the fight. They found themselves staring into the eyes of Lieutenants Spearhead and Soarin. The fight was over, and they had both lost.

“Barracks rooms. NOW. You will not leave those rooms the entire weekend, except to go to the chow hall. And when you go for chow, you will be escorted by the Deck Watch NCO when HE decides to go get chow. Come Monday morning after formation, the two of you will report to my office. Is that clear?” This was not a question, but an order, delivered in a tone that allowed for zero arguments or questions. Lieutenant Dusty Spearhead may be more laid back than some officers, but when those underneath him fucked up royally, he could become a hardflank in a hurry. Turning to a pair of Royal Guardponies who had just been called for by the bartender, he gave them their instructions, and the two Pegasi were led out of the bar.

“Well now, nothing like a couple kids squabbling to break the monotony,” Soarin said under his breath as the two of them retake their seats. “So, how severe you gonna punish the two?”

“A few days in the brig and a demotion down to Corporal for them, I’m thinking. Technically, fighting like that would require two weeks, as well as the loss of two levels of rank, but at times, the rulebook is a little harsh, given the situation. Besides, as their commander, I do have some leeway in my discipline choices.”

Calling over a waitress, he asks for a couple pitchers of cold cider and glasses. The sweet, tangy drink went down smoothly with barely a hint of alcoholic burn as he took his drink. Sweet Apple Acres produced some of the finest cider in all of Equestria, with just enough potency to give a pony a decent buzz, but mild enough so that one would have to either be a complete lightweight, or they would have to drink enough to make you float, to get sick drunk. It was the perfect drink, in Dusty’s opinion.

It was not the same stuff which Soarin had chosen to drink tonight, Dusty noticed. Soarin had ordered a couple of doubleshots of Stolitchmarea vodka, along with a pint of a very dark porter. Mixing booze and beer was never a good idea, and Soarin only did this when he was pining over one certain mare. “You wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

This was the answer that he expected from the Wonderbolt Lieutenant. As usual, Dusty was going to have to push the issue. “Tough shit, Soarin thumping his hoof down on the table as he stared his friend in the eye. “All you are doing sitting there drinking like that is hurting yourself when you COULD be talking to a friend about what ails you.” Dusty continued to look Soarin dead on, frustration creasing his brow as he continues. “I’m tired of seeing you hurting like this, and so help me, Celestia, I am gonna help you get through this.” Seeing Soarin dip his head, only to pick up one of the shot glasses and down it, Dusty could tell that Soarin planned to be a stubborn one tonight. “Did you and Spitfire have another argument?”

The look of depression only deepened as the Pegasus simply nodded before taking a long drink of his beer. All he wanted to do was to drown his sorrows. If he drank himself into a state of oblivion, then maybe he would not think of her.

“You know, all you are doing is pushing her away. I know you still care for her, but if you keep pushing yourself on her, eventually there will be no chance left at even being friends with her,” Dusty told him honestly. He had seen it happen before, and it was not something he wished to see happen here. “Have you tried going out and finding somepony new?” he asked.

“Yeah, and that didn’t work out well,” Soarin told him as he finishes off his beer.

“Well, maybe you should try again.” When Soarin just fixed him with this bitter look, Dusty pressed on. “I know this cute little mare over in the twenty-third Engineers Battalion. I think she would be perfect for you.”

Soarin snorted in disbelief, already knowing that any planned date would end up in failure. But he listened to his friend make the sales pitch anyways.

~ + ~ + ~

It was not uncommon for the princesses to hold their meals at hours that most would consider unusual, but one of the burdens of leadership was that you did not get to have a set dining schedule, or at times even be able to choose when it was you ate. There have been many an occasion when the princesses ended up taking a meal on the go as they work, for even with the huge executive staff they had to help run the nation, they still had very busy days.

The reason that Twilight was able to dine with both Luna and Celestia that evening was that the co-rulers had taken every step possible to make the dinner happen. Even so, it was less a relaxed dinner, and more of a business meeting over a meal.

“I’m seeing inconsistencies with the figures I am receiving from the Griffins, Celestia. Things just do not seem to add up, and I wish to dig further. This trade agreement could benefit all who join, but if we are not careful, another nation might be able to twist things around to their own benefit.” Twilight paused as she plucked a roll from a platter before her. Forming her thoughts, she continued, “To be honest, I would not be surprised if Griffica were to attempt to do just that. Our indicators all show their economy to be hurting, and they do have a history of aggressively pursuing their goals, even if it meant that other nations suffered for it.”

Princess Celestia pondered her former student’s words carefully. She knows full well what the Griffin Empire was like, and what they are willing to do. On more than one occasion in the past, Griffica had attempted to obtain the upper hand through illicit means, up to and including actual warfare. But in the past, they had been able to spot signs that something was ahoof, and if not outright prevent it, at least be prepared to deal with it whenever the trouble arose.

The only thing to note as of recent were the grumblings concerning the Crystal Empire. Historically, they have always been their own separate nation, though one closely allied with Equestria up until the time that King Sombra took over. During the centuries that the empire was missing, Griffica had attempted to annex the land as their own. It would have been a sizable addition, had they done so, and one that could have brought an untold bounty to Griffica. The Crystal Empire is a land filled with natural resources, from the timber to mineral wealth, to even coal, oil, and gold. While some Equestrian nobles had coveted the riches themselves, it had been through mutual agreement amongst numerous nations that the Crystal Empire, while vacant, shall be considered neutral territory, and owned by no nation. Griffica had been the one nation to disagree with this, but in the end, they were forced to relent. Could it be that Emperor Ironbeak had another scheme in the works?

It would be very unfortunate if this was the case. The Crystal Empire was no longer vacant, but once again a nation in it’s own right. It was a nation with some very strong ties to Equestria, being ruled by Celestia and Luna’s niece. And her husband happened to be the brother to another Equestrian Princess, one who had saved Equestria on more than one occasion.

“I would think that the Griffins would see the advantage of playing a legit game and following the rules in this instance. If they were to work with us and the other participating nations in the trade conference, then they might find that their economy would be helped significantly.” Luna paused to take a sip of her coffee, a deep, rich dark brew which she had grown particularly fond of. “The fact that they are trying to fudge the numbers tells me that they most likely hope to bluff everypony into believing that they have enough of an advantage to be able to dictate the terms and conditions. They might try to do so, but if enough nations see past the bluff, then they will have to fold, or will lose, and be at an actual disadvantage in the end.”

Although it was Celestia who normally dealt with the economic side of things in Equestria, Luna was no slouch. She was smart enough to do the math, and that was something that she put to use in many of her duties. Security for the nation of Equestria was one of her primary responsibilities, and a pony could figure out a lot of intent from just knowing how a nation’s economy was holding up.

“A part of me is worried that we are missing something. Some detail that is crucial, and will bite us all on our flanks if we are not careful,” she said as she started to refill her plate. “Twilight, you have a meeting soon with some of the Griffin representatives. Do you think you could discretely gather more information? Any little details you can give us would be helpful.”

“Don’t we have an agent in place that will be at the meeting, Luna? If he could get me certain figures, and get them to me somehow at the meeting, maybe through Fleetfoot, then that would be most helpful.” Levitating a sheet of paper and a quill to her, she jotted down some quick numbers and figures she thought would be most revealing. “If he can get this information to me,” she said, giving Princess Luna the paper, “I would be most grateful.”

Luna thought for a moment, weighing differing factors against one another. “It will be an added risk to him, but I suspect he could do this. And using Fleetfoot as a contact between you and the agent is an excellent idea. I shall get the message off to his handler as soon as we’re done here.”

~ + ~ + ~

Spitfire trotted down the sidewalk in disgust at how her evening had gone. Once again, her date for the evening had turned out to be a train wreck of a pony. Had the stallion not been so self-centered and cocksure, maybe she might have accepted his advances towards her. Then again, those advances were brazen, yet amateurish. And when he tried slipping a hoof between her hind legs, that was the last straw. The date officially ended with her rear hooves striking him in the chest, and her walking out the door of the club.

She turned off the sidewalk to pass through a short gate, and walked up a brick patterned path to the front door of the house now before her. After another evening like this, she was in need of comfort that only two ponies in her life could provide. Her knock on the door was answered after a brief moment.

The stallion who answered was a tough looking pony to say the least. Tall and lean, he had a look about him that made those who ended up in his sights tremble in fear, and those whom he worked with respect him for the warrior that he was. That toughness melted away when he saw who it was at the door. “Hey Spits, what brings you here so late? Come on in.” First Sergeant Silverwing told her gently, stepping aside so she could enter.

“Thanks, Dad,” she says to him as she reaches up to give him a hug, which he returns. He was only one of two ponies in the world right now she trusted enough to talk to about anything on her mind. Him and her Mom. “Sorry that I haven’t been around all that much lately.”

Silver knew the reason why his daughter had shown up. She must have had another horrendous date. That and with her mother being out of town for a concerto, she really had nopony else to talk to tonight. “It’s all golden, Spits. You have a very busy work schedule with the new recruits, and trying to organize next years performances. Hell, I’ve been busy as well, we got new Privates that came in, as well as three new non-coms. Takes time to get them into the unit fully. Sergeant Hearts is good, she ain’t even afraid to ask questions, and she listens. Always a good thing having a smart medic in the unit. Now, the other two Sergeants… well, they may not be Sergeants much longer after a call I got earlier.”

Spitfire smirked. “They gonna get demoted, or killed?” she asks jokingly. She is thankful for the moment to smile, at least for a moment. Her father may be a hard flank when on duty, but around her or her Mom, he was a caring and loving father and friend. And yet, he was strong for her too. Lending his support and advice always, or even his dry humor, if that is what it took. He was also honest with her, even when what he had to say was not what she wanted to hear. It always turned out that it was what she needed though.

“How do you do it, Dad?” she asked him. “How do you and Mom keep your friendship strong, and not feel hurt about what happened? Soarin and I got into another fight tonight. I want to be friends with him, but he keeps wanting what we can’t have.” Opening the fridge, she pulls out a cold beer and opens it, taking a drink. Her face crinkles at the taste, bitter and heavy, but she did not care about that. She just needed something, anything, that might take her mind off of the evening she had. “And then that ‘date’ I was on turned out to be a disaster, tonight. The flankhole couldn’t keep his damn hooves off of me.”

“Would you prefer I break his forelegs or hindlegs, Spits?”

This got a grin from her. “No need. I gave him a good swift kick, and then another mare stepped in, and she half bucked his head in. He failed to mention that he had been dating her for the past year.” The golden mare snorted with disgust. “I must be really screwed up, Dad. I can’t seem to ever get things right, always picking the worst ones out there. And when I did have someone good, I let shit get between us, and now, we can’t even be friends without fighting.” The tears that fell were a testament to the pain and conflict inside of her; she wished to find the happiness which she once had, but knew that if she gave in to what that whispering voice in her heart told her, all it would do is bring more pain. It was a needed comfort she felt when her father sat down next to her, hugging her close with his one good wing.

“Where did I go wrong, Dad? Why did I have to let shit get between Soarin and I?” The reply she gets is to be held closer in the comfort that can only be felt from one’s father.