“Here you are, Your Highness.”

Blueblood gingerly took the offered saucer and cup. The darkly rich liquid inside was steaming and, he had to admit, smelled rather pleasantly. The set in which it was served was also finely made, a pure white with a gold trim that he immediately approved of. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his host sit down opposite of him with her legs crossed elegantly, her own tea held aloft in the aquamarine glow of her starfield.

“So. You say you need my help, prince. And I assume you are serious, because I could not imagine you taking the time to visit such a, ah, rustic locale as is my own hometown of Ponyville without a specific purpose in mind.” Rarity smiled brightly, but at least some of what she’d said sounded oddly forced. He couldn’t quite tell why since her words were quite apt.

“Quite.” Blueblood nodded. He took a sip, finding the taste fruity, sweet, and enjoyable in a quaint way. “I need your help in a matter not only of interest to my own royal person, but in a sense, of our beloved nation’s.”

“Good heavens!” Rarity leaned forward, her ears trained on him with rapt attention. “And you need my help specifically?”

Blueblood nodded again. “Your help, more than anypony’s. In this endeavour, I wish to lean on you as I believe you offer the best possible aid in achieving success.”

“This does sound most dire, Prince Blueblood! I hope I will be able to help. Pray tell, what is it?” Her clear blue eyes bored into his with a burning intensity, even as the floating cup moved towards her puckered lips.

“Well…” Blueblood paused to gather his thoughts. He had to approach this delicately. In a way that did not underplay the importance of it, but also wouldn’t intimidate the lady he was discussing things with. Yes, exactly, subtle, but not too much so.

“I wish to make Princess Twilight of Ponyville my bride.”

The cup of tea, halfway the way to Rarity’s mouth, resumed its orbit, while the rest of the Unicorn lady sat still as a statue. She blinked. Blueblood would’ve sworn he heard the blink. For what felt to him like minutes but could only have been seconds, they sat across from one another, unmoving, save for their shared quiet breathing.

“Excuse me, Your Grace.” She finally rose to her hooves, patted down her dress. Some of the excitement seemed to have fled from her tone, replaced by something decidedly more flat. “For this, I need something stronger.” Twirling about, she strode away towards the back of her shoppe. Soon enough, the chiming of glass suggested someone going through a great many bottles.

“Will you take a drop of liquor as well then?” came her voice just out of his line of sight. “I have here a rather lovely vintage given to me by a good friend. It’s made from apples.” There was a short silence. “Well, mainly apples. Or, a nice red? Very much fits the theme.”

“Uh,” Blueblood stared at the far wall behind which Miss Rarity perused her collection of beverages.

“Red it is. A red for me. Stars know I have a right to it.”

Miss Rarity returned with a glass filled almost to the brim with crimson, as well as a long-necked bottle that looked fully capable of knocking out a pony if swung at their heads for the few instances where the contents themselves didn’t suffice. Blueblood watched the slender Unicorn plop back into her seat, slightly less dignified now than the first time, and bring the glass to her muzzle for a long drink. A looong drink. In fact, she’d drained her glass dry before she set it aside and let her magic pour her more of the wine that brought a faint flush to her cheeks.

“Ahh,” the mare sighed, head bobbing in several nods, “much better. Much, much better. Now, prince. If I heard you correctly, and I have no obvious reason to believe I did not, you want to woo one Princess Twilight Sparkle. The Princess of Friendship, Element of Magic, and my own, dear friend?”

Her question came with a scrutinizing gaze that made him uncomfortable. A little like when meeting high nobility of soon-to-be allied nations, but this wasn’t a diplomatic event as he understood it. “It is so.”

“And for that, you came to me.” Rarity shook her head slowly and shot a glance at the bottle of wine that Blueblood could at best describe as longingly. “Truly, the fates have a cruel sense of humour.”

Blueblood didn’t know where that came from, but he felt like the talks were beginning to slip from his grasp. He needed to retake the reins in this; he tried to draw her attention back to himself by leaning closer, crossing his hands in his lap and doing his best to sound like he really did need her help. Which, to be fair to himself, was very much the case.

“I came to you precisely because you are her friend, yes. However, it is not the only reason. I’ve heard from mutual acquaintances how much your own heart goes out to those in love. They have told me, repeatedly, that Rarity of Ponyville is a mare of great passion. One who longs to see love bloom between ponies.”

The Unicorn in question raised a delicate brow.

“Did they, now? Mutual acquaintances, you say? You would not happen to remember who it was that told you that, would you?”

Blueblood coughed into a fist and looked away. “Yes, well, their names escape me for the time being. They were quite adamant about your investment in amour.”

Despite his praise, Rarity’s muzzle scrunched up sourly. Had he said something wrong..?

“Your Grace,” the lady began, idly playing over the rim of her glass with a finger, “methinks this might be something that Princess Cadance could help you even better with. Seeing as how helping love spread is literally her Special Talent. While I am… flattered… that you chose to approach me in this, the princess is also quite familiar with Twilight. Yes, she might have other duties that take up some of her time, but as you so eloquently put it, it is a matter of great, perhaps even national importance. Plus, did I forget to mention, Special Talent?”

Now it was his turn to scrunch up his muzzle. It happened before he had any opportunity to prevent it. “I do not wish to involve Cady in this.”

She narrowed her eyes the tiniest bit. After taking another, smaller, draught from her drink, she asked: “Did you broach this particular topic with her before coming here?” After no immediate answer came from him, she took a deep breath. “I see. Prince Blueblood, let me ask you something.”

He crossed his arms in a huff. “And here I was under the impression you’d been doing so for most of this talk.”

Rarity ignored him. “You keep mentioning ‘love’. Now, I will not deny that love between ponies, or love between any creature for that matter, occupies a very special place in my heart, perhaps above and beyond most other Unicorn ladies my age. Believe me, it has led to more than one course of action on my part that turned out to be, in retrospect, not the wisest. It led to some painful moments, hurt feelings and the need to patch things up between myself and those I would call my closest friends. Twilight Sparkle is one of my closest friends, a wonderful, beautiful soul, and I would rather give my life than see her hurt.”

Rarity’s magic put down her half-empty glass; she steepled her fingers, looking more serious even than when he first asked for her help at all. She looked at him with all the attention to detail he expected of a seamstress of Miss Rarity’s reputation.

“Do you truly, actually, love her, prince?”

Blueblood hesitated. This was a question he hadn’t expected, yet it reminded him of something he couldn’t quite remember. He blinked, mulling over what he could say to this, and the expression on Rarity’s face seemed to darken with every second of silence.

“I see,” she repeated. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve said she was glowering at him now. “And why, then, do you wish to marry her, if this simple question gives you so much trouble? For that matter, tell me, what do you actually know about Twilight Sparkle?”

“What… do you mean?” Blueblood didn’t stammer, because a prince did not stammer. He merely… took his time to formulate a proper answer. Wherever was this coming from?! “She’s a princess. She has a castle in Ponyville. She’s an Alicorn.”

Rarity waved his points away, almost like they were boring her. “Not that. Everypony knows that. I meant, what do you know of who she is? What she does? What she likes doing? Do you have any idea about Twilight’s own passions? Take a swing at that one. What do you think Princess Twilight likes to do in her free time?”

“She… inspects Ponyville from the back of a cart?”

This time, he was sure he heard Rarity outright snort. “She reads, you dolt. Twilight Sparkle loves books. She used to live in a library. She doesn’t even own a cart. Goodness me, do you have any idea at all about her?! A cart! Hah! Try again, prince, what else can you think of?”

“Um,” Prince Blueblood tried, “she hosts, galas, in her palace..?”

“Twilight Sparkle. Hosting galas. In her palace.” Rarity rolled her eyes; two fingers began massaging her temples. “For the record, she does not enjoy Galas all that much. Nor the palace itself, come to think of it. She’s much more one for the more quiet, private parties among friends.”

Blueblood could hardly believe it. “What? But, but Ponies Magazine wrote that Princess Twilight loves lavish soirées!”

“You got that from a magazine?” The question came at normal volume. At first. “A magazine?! You think to make Twilight your bride and all you know about her is from a damnable magazine! And not even a very good one, seeing as how it prints such outrageous falsehoods! A MAGAZINE!”

Under the increasing furor of her onslaught, Blueblood found himself very nearly cowering in place. The Unicorn lady was smaller than he, but she seemed to loom over him nonetheless. For her part, Rarity appeared to grow more incensed by the minute. Snatching up her drink and throwing it down her throat struck him like trying to quench a fire, but it only fired her up more.

“And I almost let myself be roped into this! This… foolishness! Almost agreed to help your harebrained scheme to try to win my best friend’s heart, when you have not a scrap of knowledge about her worth anything!” Blueblood jerked back when the other Unicorn nearly speared him with an accusing finger flung at his face. “What, is this some power play? Some sort of misguided revenge? I’d thought you better than my first impression from that fateful Gala night, after we’d spent time together among Fancy Pants’s circle, but I can see now that you are still just a royal pain! You know NOTHING of love, prince, and by the Stars, I suspect you never will!”

Rarity’s anger left her chest heaving, her face red. She glared at him, wrathful as he’d only ever seen a mare once in his life—the very same mare grinding her teeth at him. He slowly looked this way and that. A lesser stallion would’ve had any hint of courage fail them, but he was not so weak. Was he? He put all his strength into his voice.

“S-so… is that a, a no, then?”

Blueblood went for his best winning smile.

Rarity’s expression turned neutral. Somehow, it did not give him much comfort. She reached for her glass, this time using her actual hands. She brought it up, drank a little, licked her lips, drank a little more, and shrugged.

“Prince Blueblood,” she stated, “please leave my house.”

“What? B-but I—”

“We have nothing further to discuss,” she interrupted him. “Your plan is ill-advised at best, and considering who is at the centre of it, arguably much worse than that. I strongly urge you to abandon it post-haste. Nothing good will come of it. Nothing good will come of pursuing a romantic relationship with somepony you don’t know better than from a magazine article or two. Even a foal would know that much. A grown-up stallion such as you should know better. Leave now, before you embarrass either yourself, or me, any further than you already have. I will personally escort you to my door, you will grab your ridiculous coat and hat on the way, and you will go. Hopefully to think about what a colossally idiotic thing you almost, almost attempted to do, and how you had best stay away from my friend.”

Prince Blueblood awoke. Probably from death, because he surely must have already left the lands of the living long ago, such as he felt.

He opened one crusted-over eye. The other stayed shut, as he currently lay on that side of his face. His mouth was slightly open, which went a long way towards explaining the sticky, wet mess the currently-down side of his face rested. Blueblood made a mental note to panic later about having slept in his own drool, as soon as the pony currently trying to shove a hot metal pipe right under his horn kindly stopped. For a change of pace, he moved his up-raised ear around. It hurt not quite as much as looking did, he found.

He heard a rush of water. Somepony nearby was taking a shower. Somepony was getting clean. And it wasn’t him.

In the murky soup that was Blueblood’s thoughts, a vague sensation of envy bubbled to the surface.

Something new drew his attention. Something hung just the tiniest bit out of sight from someplace up, dangling down somewhat close to his head. He couldn’t make out what it was, not from his current angle. But when he moved to get a better look, it moved as well. He moved, it moved. After a few more futile tries, Blueblood reached for it, grasped it—it felt like cloth, with a very smooth surface, rounded, stiffer in certain parts. When he tried to pull it down, he was faced with resistance and a sudden tugging on his neck.

Whatever it was, it was currently caught on his horn. After this remarkable epiphany, things made a lot more sense! He just had to pull it off of his horn first. Magic seemed the best option to him, so he concentrated, cursed the pony who invented alcohol to eternal damnation, gritted his teeth and slowly freed his own horn from the as-of-yet unproven to be, but mostly likely a, garment. Using his magic to bring it up close, Blueblood could now, finally, see just what had been lodged onto his royal alicorn.

It was a garment indeed, an unassuming sky-blue in colour. Two bulging cloth pieces, in fact, connected, cunningly, via a strap most likely to be worn in the back. He’d seen something like it before. His mind wasn’t operating at full capacity, but he was sure to have seen something like it once. Where was it? Cady’s room? It had a name, the piece...

Ah, right! A brassiere! Meant to hold a mare’s…

Blueblood felt like he’d had a bucket of ice water upended over him. He shrieked and, in what was certainly not a blind panic, threw the offending item against the opposite wall!

His head whipped about when a door he hadn’t noticed before slammed open with a very loud bang. And while the sound probably hadn’t also slammed his head open too, it more than hurt enough to give him the impression it just might’ve. In the now open doorway stood a wet, dripping, panting teal Pegasus mare with a bathrobe haphazardly slung over her lanky frame. As soon as she saw him, she groaned,

“Aw, man,” she whined. “I didn’t get to see it! Knew I should’ve waited with that shower.”

Several different questions competed for the, due to a combination of splitting headache and confused panic, currently rather limited headspace of Prince Blueblood. One jumped to the forefront, right to his mouth, which opened to utter:

“What?”

“Well, that.” The mare pointed to the wall he’d lobbed the feminine undergarment against just a few heartbeats ago, and where it now lay on the ground, almost accusingly. “I wanted to be there when you wake up and find that on your horn! I bet you made the most amazing face!” She snorted a quick and dirty laugh.

Blueblood closed his eyes. Blueblood opened his eyes.

“What?”

The mare laughed again. She closed the door, crossed her arms and leaned against it. Her bathrobe had slipped down her left side shoulder, but she didn’t seem to mind. “Still a little out of it, eh, chief? You really are a lightweight. I’ve seen fillies half my age down more than you and be fine the next day. Apart from some puking, maybe. You gonna puke? Bathroom’s behind me.” She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb.

Blueblood very nearly asked ‘what’ again, but stopped himself. This wasn’t getting him anywhere. He licked his lips—they felt parched. And his tongue like something fuzzy elected to rub itself all over it before dying. “You were… Lightning Dust, right?” he croaked. The mare shrugged.

“Unless my parents lied to me, I am still Lightning Dust. Nice to see you’re not totally lost there, Prince Blueblood. See?” She grinned sharkishly. “I can remember names too!”

Blueblood nodded. That seemed to be the appropriate thing to do. If he was honest with himself, he was also still confused and upset and she at least was something he recognised. He let his gaze roam around the rest of the room, nothing of which he had ever seen before. “Quite, quite. So, um, while we are on the topic of remembering things, we are here at..?”

“Whitetail B’n’B.”

“Right. I knew that.” Blueblood cleared his throat. The name of the establishment did not, sadly, clear things up as much as he had hoped. There were questions yet unanswered, questions such as where this strange place was, and how he’d gotten here. He looked down, thinking. Trying to think. His head still hurt.

The mare made an ugly, raspy sound in the back of her throat. “I know what you’re thinking, Blueblood.”

He blinked again. “You do?”

“I didn’t touch you while you were knocked out.” Lightning Dust pushed a raised finger in his direction. “I’m not that kind of girl. Don’t flatter yourself. You’re in your briefs ‘cause I didn’t think you wanted your expensive suit to get all crumpled when you keeled over here.”

Blueblood’s eyes went wide. The state of his dress—or lack thereof—finally sank through the mire in his brain left by the alcohol. The fact that he was in his underwear, even if under covers, made him feel nearly naked! In the presence of another pony! A mare! He swallowed down the whimper threatening to tear loose from his muzzle and pulled the covers just a little bit higher. Just… just a little bit.

His actions drew a further round of laughter from the leaning mare. She was eyeing him, teeth flashing in the cheap artificial light of the hotel room.

“But just ‘cause I didn’t touch you, doesn’t mean ponies won’t get ideas. You, a handsome young prince, paying for a stay overnight together with a famous stunt flyer? Ponies will talk, Blueblood. Ponies will draw their own conclusions.”

He stared at the Pegasus, not understanding a thing, until suddenly, it dawned on him. He was alone with Lightning Dust, in what went for a… a love hotel in these parts, or so his friends would think of it. If word reached Canterlot, this could ruin his reputation! He couldn’t have an affair, he was a Prince of the Realm! And it would ruin any chance of winning Princess Twilight Sparkle’s hand in marriage, if she came to think of him as a philandering ass!

He had to fix this!

“Especially if there are pictures.”

His blood ran cold. His heartbeat lurched. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “P… pictures..?”

“Yup. Pictures. A whole slew of ‘em. Taken by yours truly. And trust me, they’re amazing. There’s one with your hands on my ass and your head down my shirt, you naughty boy.”

Oh no! He shook his head. That could not, must not come out!

Before Blueblood had much chance to respond, Lightning Dust pushed herself off of the door and stalked towards him with her arms crossed. Blueblood found himself cowering before the second mare in so many hours. She stopped just as she reached the foot of the bed, regarding Blueblood with a strange look.

“You probably don’t want those floating about, hm? Think what would happen if some of the bigger newspapers got wind of it.” Her smirk grew the more she talked, while he winced and failed to push the mental images away. “Manehattan Post. Canterlot Times. Think about the headlines! ‘Canterlot Prince in affair with ex-Wonderbolt!’ My guess would be, it would be a bit of a scandal for you, chief.” She chuckled. “Princess Celestia would be so disappointed in you.”

Blueblood’s ears snapped flat against his skull.

“And your plans with Princess Twilight? You can kiss those goodbye, too. That mare, Rarity, will have told her about what you said to her by then, and you’ll look to the both of them like a cheating bastard.”

At that particular moment, Blueblood wasn’t quite sure what was worse: seeing his opportunity to marry the princess vanish into thin air… or Celestia’s frowning, upset face. It wasn’t a choice he wanted to make.

“Of course, that’s only happening if those pictures come out.”

Blueblood’s ears slowly perked up again. He raised a brow in Lightning Dust’s direction, for the first time since she started feeling some hope. “And… what would it take to have them not come out?”

Lightning Dust slammed her hands flat on the bed, besides his legs; she was strong enough that he bounced a little on the mattress, ‘eeped!’ and scurried backwards from her, holding the covers up like a protective shield. The Pegasus glared at him.

“Hire me!”

Blueblood stared back. “What?”

“Hire me!” she repeated. “As a guard! No, not just a guard—make me an officer! Hire me as your bodyguard, get me a nice rank! You’re a prince, you can expedite the process however much you order it! You do that, those pictures stay safely away from the public eye with nopony the wiser!”

He lowered the covers—just a tiny bit. Confusion warred with a growing new sensation: Anger. Blueblood clenched his fists. “And why, pray tell, do you think I can do something like that?”

There was a feverish glint in Lightning Dust’s eyes. She laughed again, slowly, with a bitter note.

“Did you know the Wonderbolts require a written exam before they let you join? They do. There’s a lot about military history in there. I know more about how your troops work than you do, chief. So don’t act like you couldn’t do it.”

“Just so I understand,” Blueblood replied, with a hint of anger creeping into his voice, “after what you did, you expect me to give you a position as a guard? As my personal guard? An officer’s post without any prior service?” He paused. Mostly for effect. Taking a deep breath, he yelled his next words. “Are you mad?! Who do you think you are!?”

“I’m the mare with a dozen pictures of you motorboating her tits.”

Blueblood’s mouth snapped shut.

She smirked. The way she did, she rather enjoyed shutting him up from the looks of it. He knew that look, that was the way classmates would look at him when they pulled a prank on him that they thought he couldn’t do anything about. She stood back up, casually rearranged her robes that were now hanging from her elbows. “To be honest, chief, I don’t know why you’re even hesitating. I already proved I got what it takes.”

“What do you mean?”

“I got your drunken ass to a place to crash safely. That counts for something.” She shrugged lazily, still grinning. “If I hadn’t come by, you’d still be out cold at Berry Punch’s. Or worse, some unscrupulous pony could’ve done something unspeakable to you. You are such an obvious mark, Prince Blueblood. I could’ve taken your wallet and your rings and be set for a while. That’s not what I want, though. I want a job. And you’re the one who’s going to give it to me.”

To Blueblood’s chagrin, her words had… some truth to them. Technically, she’d escorted him back after he let the wine get to him. A flash of pain helpfully reminded him of the hangover he was still, despite everything else, battling valiantly. His eyes snapped shut and he bit back a most uncouth curse.

“You don’t believe me, huh?” Lightning Dust drew his gaze to her when she audibly scoffed. The Pegasus glowered at him from below the wet bangs of two-toned mane hanging over the side of her face. She swept it aside, never losing eye-contact with him. “My dude, you’re talking to the best candidate the Wonderbolts ever had. I’m more than capable of flying rings around anypony in your guard regiment, with or without armour. I can outfight any six of them. At the same time. Rainbow frikkin’ Dash couldn’t keep up with me. You should beg me to let you hire me.”

He quietly admitted that all that sounded impressive indeed. And, really, he wasn’t entirely convinced of Equestria’s guard detail’s effectiveness. They seemed to have a rather frustrating rate of failure…

Still, this did not mean he could just let some ruffian Pegasus blackmail her way into an officer’s commission!

“If you need more proof… I got it right here.” Lightning Dust pointed to her cheek. “Hit me.”

Blueblood hadn’t expected to be surprised again during this talk. He’d thought all the insanity had been revealed by now. “Say what now?”

“Hit. Me. Right. Here.” She underlined every word with a poke to the soft teal coat of her cheek. “I’ll show you I can take it. I can take anything you can dish out, chief. Or are you afraid of hitting a girl?”

Girls are scary. He wanted to say that. For some reason though, the words wouldn’t come out. Perhaps some idiot filter had activated in his brain? Even he could see how silly that sounded. And he normally never sounded silly at all! He eyed Lightning Dust’s cheek like it was about to bite him, gulping. His throat was dry.

“You can’t possibly want me to hit you. That’s insane. You are insane.” Blueblood got up from the bed, making only slow movements. Partly because the mare was scaring him and partly because he kept the sheets clutched to his bare chest out of modesty. Now that he stood, that they both stood, he saw how much he towered over the lithe Pegasus.

“Just look at us. I’m more than a head taller than you.”

She just snorted dismissively. That drove a furious blush to his cheeks!

“Yeah, yeah. Look, chief, you’re a tall glass of water and all, and you got some heft to you, no doubt. But I bet you, your princely punches will not seriously injure me. Besides.” Lightning Dust’s eyelids lowered until her eyes were half-closed. “Your royal meals left a teenie bit of an impact on you. I hear the palace orders more cakes than anypony could reasonably eat without turning into a barrel. My guess is Celestia doesn’t keep all of them to herself, the way she looks.”

Blueblood straightened his back. “Princess Celestia is the very picture of loveliness!”

“Ohh. Got some auntie-issues, do you?” Lightning Dust poked him in the side with a smile from ear to ear. “No worries, I’m not telling! We all got our little secrets!”

Blueblood groaned. He slapped one hand over his eyes in exasperation, flinched when his migraine flared up and clutched the covers covering his body ever tighter. He slowly shook his head to make sure things didn’t get worse.

“Sun and Moon, what did I do to deserve this?” Blueblood muttered.

“Let a complete stranger get you drunk in a bar and walk off with them, without any backup. Imagine some crazy pony using an opportunity like that to take advantage of you?” When he slightly lowered his hand to glare at Lightning Dust, she pointed a finger at her own face. “Other than me. And I’m not crazy.”

He could only shake his head again. All of this was insane. He should never have left Canterlot. But then, how was he to get closer to his goal..? All these thoughts made his head hurt some more. That, or the lingering hangover. He pressed his eyes closed. Ugh, if only I’d let Fancy show me the magic spell to cure that..!

“No matter whether you are or not—and I reserve judgement yet, Miss Lightning Dust—I will not hit you. I am a stallion of standing and breeding. I refuse to initiate a physical altercation merely to satisfy some misguided need to prove your prowess. I am above such base acts!”

“You’re a coward.”

He fought to keep his mouth a thin, neutral line as he looked at her. “I will not be moved by petty insults.”

“Your hair looks stupid.”

“You take that back!” Before Blueblood truly knew what was happening, the sheets he’d held so close were thrown aside and he took a step towards the grinning Pegasus, pushing his index finger against her collarbone.

Or, he would have… if she was still there. He was poking thin air; Lightning Dust somehow moved from the spot, without him noticing. She’d dropped into a low stance, wings flared out behind her, one leg forward and the other behind her, arms crossed before her with her hands out and ready. She was flashing a dangerous smile. “Got you to move!” she jeered. “Though your form is awful. I could see you weren’t going for an actual punch from a mile. Who trained you? Did you get any training at all?”

Blueblood’s face felt hot. He might’ve been forced into a blush again. He pressed out the words between tightly-clenched teeth: “Fencing lessons. However, I am not part of the soldiery. I have guards for that.”

“Not here you don’t.” Once again she pointed at herself. “Unless you hire me.” She relaxed her stance and put her fist on her hips. The smile she’d worn turned to a frown as she looked up at him. Her sudden seriousness set his tail bristling.

“Listen, chief. You obviously need some push here. So what about this: Hit me, or the pictures come out.”

“What?! But—but you said..!” Blueblood stopped himself, clenching his fists as he scowled at the impertinent, predatory Pegasus making despicable demands! His shoulders shook, and his teeth hurt from holding them tightly together, and he felt confused and lost and he really needed a nice, long, bubble bath! Or just a shower. Blueblood raised his right arm, still trembling. It weighed a ton.

Lightning Dust shook her head. She clicked her tongue, put up three fingers. “On the count of three, I’m out of here, and the pics go with me. One—”

He didn’t understand what was happening. Blueblood let out a yell, that he swore did not at all sound like a pathetic shriek, as his arm snapped around like a rubber band. There was a sudden pain hitting the palm of his hand, making him wince. It wasn’t… that bad, actually, but he hadn’t expected it. He hadn’t expected anything. He looked down at his hand, at the soft, short fur covering it. The faintest hint of red shone through. Blueblood looked to the other pony in the room—she was halfway turned around… and rubbing her cheek.

Lightning Dust chuckled as she met his gaze. “Huh. Well. Not what I was expecting. But I think I should have, looking back.” The mare straightened her back, and as she did, her robe fell away from one side and exposed one breast down to the nipple. Blueblood hurried to tear his eyes back to her face. Her half red-cheeked face. “Of course a prissy wuss like you would go for a slap over a real punch.”

Blueblood shrunk into himself.

“Not at all a bad one, though. Got some power in your moves there, at least, big guy! Got some weight in that swing!” The grinning mare made a few boxing motions in Blueblood’s direction, who scrambled to get some distance between them. She let her arms drop and laughed some more. “Got some weight on you in general! Would’ve been a waste if you couldn’t put any of it to use!”

“Thank you..?”

“Now,” she went on, ignoring him, “it wasn’t good enough that I’d say you're well-practiced. Probably haven’t slapped a mare that often, have you?”

Blueblood looked down at his stinging palm again. “Er… this is my first time..?”

“Good. If you had, I’d beat you silly with your own arm and carry your unconscious carcass straight to the cops.” The unsettling smile on the mare’s face possibly frightened Blueblood more than anything he’d seen since he came to Ponyville. She looked completely serious. Blueblood could feel all blood drain from his face, likely leaving him whiter than a ghost pony.

“I, I would never lay a hand on a mare!”

“You just did.”

“Because you made me!”

“Excuses, excuses.” Lightning Dust waved her hand in his face, making him flinch away from her. She worked her shoulder after that, and Blueblood could see her jaw move, probably testing how her cheek felt from the inside. When she looked to him like she was satisfied with that, she eagerly showed him the other side of her face. “Now go for this one.”

“But… why?! You made your point!” Blueblood’s hand still hurt, and he clinched it shut. Now it hurt a little less. “Why in Equestria do you want me to hurt you more than I already have? Why have me go through this ordeal yet again? If I promise to get you the post you want, here and now, is that enough to stop this lunacy?”

“Hmm.” Lightning Dust rubbed her cheek. The unblemished one. “No.”

“For pony’s sake, why not?!”

“Because I want to do it for my sake. And yours, but mostly me. Who cares about anypony else?” Lightning Dust flicked the sole side of the robe still hanging on her away from her. Now she stood before him in the bare save for a pair of blue panties, and he could see quite clearly that she was built like a Pegasopolian statue of a mare. Powerful muscles subtly shifted under her coat. While she had some curves to her, she was indeed more on the streamlines side; everything about her spoke of speed and strength. She saw him staring and snapped her fingers. She was still grinning. “Eyes up here, prince. Where my cheek is. That’s your target. Unless you want to try to punch me in the stomach?”

Blueblood held up his fist to his eyes. “I would probably break my fingers doing that.”

“You probably would.” She nodded. “So, are you ready for take two?”

“No. Is that going to change anything?”

“Nope!”

Blueblood sighed and looked away. “I figured as much. For the record, I am acquiescing to your farcical demands only under vehement protest.” When his eyes met hers again, the mare was leaning forward slightly, hands clasped in the small of her back and her head turned so her unharmed cheek was presented firmly to him. He felt a sudden spark of self-loathing.

“This… this isn’t just a way to make me look like a domestic abuser on film, is it?” he asked.

Lightning Dust reacted with a giggle-snort he had not expected from a mare like her. She did not move from her position even as she shrugged. “Be real, chief. Everypony knows I’m way more dangerous than you. If you tried to lay a hand on me, you’d pull back a stump. This is just to show I’m tough enough to take it!”

He rubbed his thumb over the rest of his fingers; the pain had almost faded completely by now, but he contemplated using the other hand anyway. The angle would fit much better. He wasn’t extremely right-handed, as it were. In fact, his left was very nearly as good as his right. Ser Epeen was rather insistent on practicing swings even under non-ideal situations, and while this wasn’t a sword duel by any stretch of the imagination, it couldn’t be that different, could it? He was only about to strike a potentially insane she-pegasus across the face after being blackmailed into doing so! Twice!

The suspicion that he might, just might, be becoming just a bit hysterical in his thinking crept up on Blueblood. Without much further thinking at all, he flexed the fingers on his left hand and swung them, along with the rest of his hand and arm, at the mare that was vexing him so.

He struck true. Again a pain in his palm; he wasn’t used to the impact. He’d swung without too much force, fervently hoping she wouldn’t notice. Then again, perhaps it was enough? Blueblood had never made personal experiences with slaps himself. At least not before this day.

Lightning Dust herself let out a not-quite grunt as he smacked her. He barely moved her as well. She seemed ready for him this time, not letting the slap faze her. A quick look down showed her chest was rising and falling steadily, if more pronounced than before. Now both her cheeks were flushed.

“See? Nothing. I can take it. Toughest mare around, that’s me.” Lightning Dust’s face was one of self-assuredness, downright cockiness if Blueblood had to describe it. Her teeth flashed a pearly, flawless white that stood in stark contrast to the red imprints blooming right next to either side of her mouth. “One more? Two? How many it takes to prove it!”

Once more, Blueblood found himself impressed by this strange mare. This time not by what she touted about her skills, but by her actual resilience, self-control, her pride, and sheer, insane determination. It was contagious, he realised, a giddy madness bubbling up like sparkling wine. Was he drunk again? He must have been. He’d already lost his own control to her twice. It was already too late for rational thought. Blueblood struck from the right; his ears twitched from the fleshy smacking sound of his palm meeting her cheek, and this time, he managed to make her budge.

Lightning Dust’s body shuddered when he’d slapped her. She breathed out sharply. He could see from her tight face she was holding back from words, or a groan, or maybe something else. Her head was turned away from him, in the direction of his strike, with one of her hooves tangled up in the robe on the ground. She shook it free, turning the rest of her towards the wall as she did. Blueblood saw she still had her hands clasped tightly behind her back, refusing to let go. Her profile, taken in from the side, was as flawless as he’d imagined.

He moved before he had any idea what he was about to do.

Lightning Dust went stiff as a board, ramrod-straight, on the tip of her hooves. She seemed to be bobbing on them, in fact.

Blueblood slowly blinked at the mare. His gaze lowered down to her backside—it was nicely shaped. It was also adorned with an angry crimson handprint. Judging from the pain pulsing through his palm, his handprint. The sight was obscured when a two-toned blond tail lashed around the area, as if to hide the now-marked mare-part.

He immediately looked up when he heard Lightning Dust clear her throat.

“Well, okay. Got to hand it to you, chief, you managed to surprise me there.” She turned to face him again with slow, deliberate, graceful steps. And… he could’ve sworn he saw her wince once. She smiled wryly. “You got into the swing of it, that’s for sure!”

“I… smacked your bottom.” Blueblood’s head felt light, and his throat tight.

“Yeah. Guess you did.” She shrugged, hands still out of sight in the small of her back. “We can put that down to testing out traditional Pegasopolian disciplinary measures, if that makes you feel better. I think I read something about that once.”

Blueblood furrowed his brow at her.

“Hey now, don’t give me that look! I’m pretty sure there was something about birch rods and—”

He interrupted what he was fairly sure he could not currently deal with with a short cry. “Please! Please do not make this any more awkward than it already is! I don’t know what kind of devilry drove me to do this, but it is not an experience I wish to repeat, physically or in memory! Please let it rest!”

“Right. Okay, I’ll drop it,” Lightning Dust said with some obvious hesitation. Then her grin widened and became closer to what she wore before they started their… exercise. “But not you giving me a job! As soon as we can get the paperwork in order, you’re going to send a nice letter to the palace. I can’t wait to wear an official uniform again!”

“They will need your measurements for the armor.”

“Course they will! That tap on my butt wasn’t nearly enough time to get my size down, am I right, chief?” Lightning Dust rubbed the mark on her behind as she spoke, and winked. He just put his face in his hands and pleaded to his aunt for strength.

It was a trip Scootaloo had made hundreds of times over the years. By hoof, by scooter, and by wings. Much later in life than she’d wanted, that last one, but hey. When she touched down close to the Apples’ barn, it still felt familiar. It was reassuring.

And her mood lifted as soon as she saw one of her oldest and best friends, the one she'd been looking for. She could use the company after sneaking around for Diamond Tiara’s dumb schemes, plus the rough talk at the end had been unexpectedly draining. Apple Bloom looked up from the piece of wood she was working on, smiled brightly and waved, both things Scootaloo eagerly returned.

“Hey, Bloom! Good thing I caught you right here. What’cha working on?” A few flappy hops brought Scootaloo close enough to inspect the thing in detail. Apple Bloom, following her curious look, held it up so she could see it better. It was wood, alright, a thick board with two small and one bigger half circles cut out at one of the longer sides, as well as a metal hinge and buckle opposite each other on the shorter sides; the Earth Pony held the entire thing easy in one hand while the other twirled the plane she’d been using before Schootaloo arrived. Apple Bloom was a strong girl.

“Just smoothin’ out this part here,” she noted, and winked. “Goin’ to be a surprise for the beau! He’ll love it!”

“Snips?” Scootaloo asked. When Apple Bloom nodded, she raised a questioning brow. “I didn’t know he was into woodworking.”

Apple Bloom shrugged, put the board and plane down, and patted it. “Yeah, well, he’s into me, and Ah’m into carpentry. And this is somethin’ special, so trust me, he’s gonna love it to bits!”

“If you say so.”

“Ah do! Don’t mind taking a break, though. Just give me a moment...” Scootaloo watched the other filly as she straightened out her back, one hand behind her head and the other stretched to the sky, accompanied by a muted popping sound and a groan of relief. All of it dangerously strained the flannel shirt Apple Bloom wore tied together above her midriff. Scootaloo half expected one of the buttons to pop next and briefly wondered when the other filly had filled out so much. “Ahh, that’s much better! So, got anythin’ you wanted to talk about, Scoots?”

Scootaloo scratched the back of her neck. “Kinda, yeah. You brought it up right now, actually. Or him, rather.”

Now it was Apple Bloom’s turn to look at her with obvious curiosity. “What? You mean Snips? What about 'em?”

“Well...” Scootaloo sighed. She sat down on the ground next to the Earth Pony, who followed suit, crossing her legs. The Pegasus crossed her arms in turn, leaning against her wings to steady herself. “Thing is, I know the two of you… happened. But I haven’t heard how it happened.”

“And now you wanna know, right? Any particular reason you got?” The amused glimmer in Apple Bloom’s eyes betrayed something Scootaloo couldn't place, almost as much as the barely hidden smirk.

“Nah, just curious.” Scootaloo shrugged. She sighed, looking out at the endless green of Sweet Apple Acres. “I’m gone for a few weeks and everypony’s suddenly hooking up, Apple Bloom. Seems like I missed a lot of crushes going around. I mean, I had no idea there was anything between Silver Spoon and Snails, of all ponies. I can’t really relate to any of it, you know? I never had a crush, or had anypony crushing on me… why are you laughing?”

Apple Bloom waved her off. “N-no reason! Go on, please!”

Scootaloo kept her suspicious glare going for a few seconds longer, but ultimately relented with a giggle of her own. “I guess I deserve that. I’ve been told lately I have the romantic sense of a cucumber.” That got even more of a laugh out of the other filly. Scootaloo joined in. “No, really, if anything, I would’ve totally expected for Snips to end up with your cousin, Babs.”

Apple Bloom blinked in surprise. ”Babs? Why?”

“You know.” Scootaloo shrugged again. “Both got scissor Cutie Marks. She likes hairstyling, his dad’s a barber. They both got some ‘pone on their bones’, as Sapphire Shores would say.” She made air quotes with that last one. Apple Bloom snorted another giggle, asking in a mock-reproachful manner:

“Scootaloo, you’re not shippin’ my coltfriend and my cousin who never actually met for superficial reasons, are ya?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Scootaloo grinned.

“If ya say so, Princess Cadance.”

Scootaloo playfully swatted at her friend’s shoulder, getting blocked easily by the farmpony. “For real, though, I wanna know. You, and Snips. How?”

Apple Bloom took a moment, plucking a blade of grass from the ground to nibble on it. When she did finally speak, she was looking off in the distance, like Scootaloo had done a little before. “Right, so. This is what happened…”

Author's Note

Whew! Finally, this chapter is out now, released into the world!

Special thanks to Pone Peddler 9 and Brony-wan-kenobi. You guys are awesome!