Risqué Business

In retrospect this might work as a funny story. Maybe something to bring up during a spa date with the girls or at the wine tasting party mentioned by Princess Celestia in her last letter. Of course some details would need to be omitted — but that was beside the point. At that moment there was nothing amusing about any of it.

Or maybe there was. Things were out of control from the very start, after all. So what was the point of all the pining, the frustrations of their game? For all the wisdom of a fledgling princess, she should have at least noticed that something was wrong. That something was wrong with her, specifically.

Too late. Down 100,000 somewhat bits, her life savings, and there was a criminal on the loose. The criminal had once been a friend.

Celestia. Oh dear, dear Celestia. This was turning out to be the biggest scandal in recent Equestrian history.

Twilight recognized her as soon as she stepped off the train. It was difficult not to; she was a head taller than most of the other ponies and was dressed impeccably in layers of branded clothes, like the models in the magazines at the spa or in Rarity’s bathroom.

They had never actually met — Twilight had never even seen her before, but she was certain of this much: the unicorn mare was a Canterlotian of the uppermost stratum. Or maybe a relative of one. Either way it was clear that she was different: she held the grace, the affected poise, of a thoroughly educated pony — perfect posture, head high, and hooves close. Yet there was something more to her, something that highlighted her amidst the crowd of colorful passersby.

That was it. Despite the lofty implications of her deliberate stride, the mare interacted with the town openly. She smiled when the station clerks greeted her, winked back when a group of old stallions tipped their hats, and she danced affably to some welcome musical number as she moved through the crowd. The mare seemed so familiar with the town, so casual with her surroundings, that Twilight couldn’t help but recognize her, and be drawn to her, like an old friend. And yet they had never met.

By then many others had taken notice of the pretty mare as she left the station in a trail of delight, all the while balancing her stride as well as her own luggage.

“Should we help her?”

“Huh?” Twilight blinked back to the café. She had been staring so long that it took her eyes a moment to focus on the purple blur that sat just across the table.

Spike rolled his eyes and pointed at the mare walking their way. “With her bags. I don’t know how she balanced them through that whole song. It was like three minutes! They must be killing her.”

The bags did look heavy, and also dangerously lopsided, stacked like a half-done jenga tower. And yet the mare remained composed. Or at least it seemed that way until she came closer and Twilight could make out the beads of sweat running down her flushed face. Her mane was a little messy as well; a few errant strands of hair were plastered to her forehead and her loose top knot sagged over to the side like a tipping crown.

“So are we going to help her or not?”

“Spike, do I need to remind you about our lesson on loaded questions? And I guess we should help her. Or… or maybe we shouldn’t.” Twilight deflated onto the table with a groan, pushing all of the plates towards Spike’s end. “I don’t know. Princess Celestia made it clear that I need to stop meddling in every little problem in town; otherwise ponies will become too dependent on me.”

“Is that why we’ve been snooping around and pony-watching all day?” Spike asked, peeking from behind the pile of plates. “You’re getting all manic again, Twilight.”

“It’s not like that,” Twilight argued as she reached for a plate of half-eaten omelet. “I just feel like I’m not doing enough for them as their princess. It feels like I’m neglecting them.”

The baby dragon groaned as he pushed the plate halfway to meet her hoof. “I’m sure that Princess Celestia didn't mean for you to completely stop helping ponies.”

“I know but… I just don’t want them to think that I’m ignoring them,” she replied through a mouthful of cold omelet. “I want them to know that I’m here for them, that I’m still just a pony under the crown — which is why we’re observing them in plain sight. Hello!” She waved at a passing couple. They stumbled into bows before hurrying away.

Spike glowered at her for a moment, then shrugged. “That… doesn’t even make sense. But okay, fine. Then I’ll just tell that mare that you asked me to help her. Problem solved, right? I think?” And he was off like a Wonderbolt.

The alicorn blinked, not understanding what he was up to. By the time she realized it, he was already chatting with the mare and helping her with a large tote. Twilight shoveled more food into her mouth as she considered helping them herself and going against her mentor’s advice. After all, she was now a princess in her own right and she could make her own decisions. Disobeying Princess Celestia was at the bottom of her royal to-do list, but sometimes there just wasn’t any other way around it. The events at the Crystal Empire had taught her that much.

Then, just as Twilight was about to call out to them, she choked — actually choked. The first thing she did was roll her eyes. If Spike were there, he’d be giving her that look while saying something along the lines of ‘Do you remember our lesson on talking while chewing food?’ She tried calling to him regardless.

“Spike! Spi — ack!” The omelet would not go down. She couldn’t talk, so she decided to use gestures instead.

Spike was still with the mare, hanging several of her bags on his spines, probably trying to show off. Twilight tried waving them over. They noticed her and waved back. She couldn’t curse either as she turned to the table and groped around for a cup of water, but it was on the other side where she had pushed everything earlier. Her vision started getting blurry, so she crammed her eyes shut and concentrated on swallowing harder. The bulge of her meal bounced in her throat with each failed attempt. She even tried massaging it, trying to break apart the food and allow for a smoother transition. But nothing seemed to work, and by then her silent convulsions had drawn the attentions of some of the other ponies. If only she could concentrate enough to use magic!

This was real. Wild thoughts flashed through her mind like: what would happen to Spike? How would he cope without his sister-mentor? And what about Ponyville? They just got their princess, for pony’s sake! The Elements of Harmony, oh they’d be in trouble. And then Equestria would collapse on itself! Omelet! The omelet! Ahhh—

Twilight struggled when she felt hooves wrap around her waist. She tried to wiggle herself away, but the strong forelegs clenched themselves tightly under her stomach. They then lifted her up so that she stood slightly and began jerking her hard against the lean, sweaty body of whoever it was behind her. Without air her brain wasn’t functioning enough to decide on whether she should be frightened or outraged. But then, miraculously, air did enter her lungs, and she settled on feeling confused and embarrassed instead.

“AAACK!” With a loud hack the half-chewed omelet piece popped out of her mouth and flew onto the table in a trail of spit and foodstuff. “Oh” — pant — “dear” — gasp — “Celestia!”

There was a round of applause coming from around the café. The ponies who had jumped from their seats towards their ailing princess were slowly moving back to their parties, looking sheepish though some of the applause was clearly meant for them.

“I’m alright! I’m okay, everypony!” Twilight spluttered, fighting through the embarrassment. “Thank you,” she said to the crowd as she dismissed them with a wave. And then she turned to the pony who had saved her. “Thank you.”

The alicorn blinked a few times, surprised to see that it was the mare from before, the Canterlotian one, who had rushed to her aid; and she was even more surprised, and also embarrassed, by their closeness. From her position just below the tall pony, Twilight saw that she was even more disheveled than before, with hairs loose all around her face. She was also gasping almost as hard as Twilight was, her breaths coming out hot.

“Oh, you’re very welcome, Princess,” the mare managed to reply through a shaky smile. And then Twilight was simply dumbfounded. She had no accent, or barely a hint of one. She did speak differently, but definitely not like the ponies in Canterlot; which was strange since she looked so classy and beautiful, just like a Canterlotian, and was as gallant as the archetypal heroes recurrent in the area’s lore…

“What happened to your bags?” Twilight asked, getting up slowly. “And where’s Spike?” She looked around and saw that they were thrown about haphazardly in a trail leading to the café, as were some of the layers of clothes she was wearing earlier. Twilight also couldn’t help but notice that the mare’s blouse was a little undone and that her coat underneath was particularly drenched with sweat. She then felt her own back with a hoof and shivered at the cold, wet sensation.

“Thank goodness,” Spike huffed as he caught up to them, picking the mare’s clothes and bags up on his way. “Nice save, Fleur!” They shared a high-hoof.

“And just in the nick of time!” her savior replied. Twilight tensed as the mare looked her up and down with big, worried eyes. “Why, you were practically convulsing by the time I arrived. I almost mistook you for Princess Luna; your face was so blue.”

Spike snorted and leaned against Twilight’s flank, forcing her to share in the weight of the luggage. “Didn’t we have, like, a whole week of lessons on proper chewing etiquette?”

The alicorn rolled her eyes. He was going to get a lesson on rudeness later on in the day. She moved to offer the mare her hoof, causing the little dragon to stumble under his load. “Anyways, thank you again, um, Fleur?”

“Fleur de Lis.” The unicorn straightened her posture and offered a lengthy “Hello.”

“Hi, my name is Twilight Sparkle. Welcome to Ponyville.”

“Thank you, Princess. For the welcome and also for sending your adorable little servant to help me.”

“Assistant!” Spike wheezed as he picked up the last of her belongings. He smiled toothily at them from under a mountain of clothes and luggage. “I’m actually her assistant!”

Twilight nodded. “This is my assistant: Spike. And he offered to help you himself.”

“Well then thank you sir.” Fleur curtsied for the little dragon.

“No problem,” Spike replied after taking a deep breath. “Now where are we headed? Your luggage is as heavy as it looks.”

“Ah, sorry about that.” The unicorn recovered some of her bags and started towards central. “Right this way. Thank you again, Princess. I’ll make sure to reward your assistant.”

“Oh, you should be thanking him,” Twilight said, nodding her approval at Spike who was too busy adjusting the luggage to notice. “Here, let me help you too. It’s the least I could do.”

Fleur shook her head. “Oh no, I wouldn’t want to take up your time. I’m sure that you have other important things to be doing.” She began making her way out of the plaza, only stopping to look back and say, “So long, Princess.” Then she was off.

“Oh, okay. Goodbye.” Twilight sighed as she stood there for a moment, watching the mare leave. The brief farewell was somewhat disappointing to say the least. Her whole schedule for that day consisted entirely of pony-watching, and truth be told, she had grown bored of the activity just after the third hour. But the arrival of Fleur de Lis had changed that. Twilight couldn’t take her eyes off the mare the moment she stepped off the train. There was just so much activity going on around her. She couldn’t quite hear the welcome song, but it looked like an energetic piece with all the dancing. Twilight could have watched the unicorn the whole day, just write Fleur’s name into every minute of her schedule. Rarity said something about this once. Now, what had she called it? It might have been a slang term, or an idiom maybe. Something about a treat for the eyes. Eye food? That sounded about right. Fleur was eye food, and her presence alone seemed to satisfy the princess’s quota for ponies watched well over.

But now she was gone and Twilight would need to go back to staring at her regular subjects. Not that there was anything wrong with them; Fleur was just so much more… interesting.

“You aren’t doing anything anyways,” Spike said as he walked ahead, interrupting Twilight from her rapid ruminations. “Why don’t you come and show her around town?”

That's right, Fleur was new in town. She could really benefit from a tour and maybe from a new friend as well! After all, Twilight was well-versed in the intricacies of friendship and magic. She could show Fleur a thing or two concerning her new life in the friendliest village in all of Equestria!

“Yes! Yes, that’s a great idea, Spike!” Twilight took the luggage with her magic and quickly swung the pooped dragonling onto her back. “Wait!” she called as she galloped towards the unicorn. “Wait for me!”

Fleur wasn’t that far ahead. She stopped and looked back with a knowing smile, as if she were waiting for Twilight, the same way an intimate friend would expect another. Twilight ran a little faster.

“Um, just out of curiosity, are you not from Canterlot?” Twilight asked, hoping to fill the silence that was at first pleasant but had eventually become so awkward. The alicorn glanced at the other mare from time to time, and she was always the same: trotting along with that perfect posture and that slight smile across her lips. She wondered what Fleur was smiling about, since she began smiling and never stopped smiling ever since Twilight had caught up to her. Was she excited as well? Or maybe she was nervous.

“Hm?” Fleur tilted her head and looked at the alicorn. “Am I… why do you ask?”

Twilight shrugged, careful not to wake the snoozing dragon on her back. “It’s just that your accent, or your lack of one, makes me wonder. You just look so Canterlotian. Not that that’s a bad thing. I’m from Canterlot myself.”

Just as Fleur opened her mouth to respond, a sudden wind blew by, finally shaking her loose top knot undone. The hairband was carried off through the air and her mane whipped around wildly, brushing across Twilight’s face as gently as the breeze.

There was a pleasant scent that graced the alicorn’s nose, and she inhaled deeply on impulse. It was a bittersweet smell, like something between a pungent ale and pomegranate. The sensation was complimented by the stirring sight of the pale pink halo of hair that seemed to float around Fleur, shining against the backdrop of the early afternoon. The image in all its vivid colors was vaguely reminiscent of the sun princess. Twilight sighed quietly.

“Oops! Pardon me, Princess.” Fleur spat the loose hairs from her mouth and flicked her mane back, grazing Twilight’s face again.

She blinked hard and laughed a little. “Oh it’s okay, and just call me Twilight. What is that smell? Is that your shampoo?”

Fleur smiled. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it smells great.”

“It’s Hoity’s Bebe 5. Would you like a bottle? I’ve got one extra.”

“Oh, is that perfume?”

“Yes it is.”

Twilight shook her head. “I don’t wear perfume, but thank you.”

Fleur pouted and looked up, as if in thought. “Really? You could have fooled me.”

“I — huh?”

“But some ponies are like that, I suppose.” The unicorn closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “With that strong, natural funk.”

“I — do I smell that much?” Twilight shrunk into her wings and gave herself a few sniffs. She put her wings down immediately and came up with a sour face. “Oh wow, I guess I have been out all day. Yikes.”

“Well, some of that could be mine too,” Fleur responded coolly.

“What?” said Twilight, looking at Fleur who was staring back at her.

“I was awfully sweaty when I, well,” she gave a light titter and looked away, “when I met you.”

“Oh, you mean when you performed the abdominal thrusts on me.”

“Yes. Some of my sweat may have rubbed off while I was thrusting against you.”

Twilight laughed weakly at the memory. “It was pretty intense. I can’t believe I choked in public like that. The whole point of me being out there was to watch out for my subjects, and instead one of them had to help me instead! I still feel embarrassed about it. Hopefully the local press doesn't —”

“We’re here!”

“Oh.” The two of them, and the sleeping baby dragon, stopped in front of what was once a vacant building, one of the very few in Ponyville. It was a interesting building, partly because it was set up at the border of the town’s center and shared a similar design as its neighboring structures. All of the buildings in that district functioned doubly as homes as well as businesses. The ground floors were usually made into shops or restaurants while the owners lived just on top of them in the second story. Sugarcube Corner was located at the opposite end of this street, while Fleur’s new home was located at the very corner away from where most of the bustle would be.

The building had been vacant for a very long time, as far back as Twilight could remember about Ponyville. In recent months though, movers had been gradually filling the place with paintings and furniture until it looked almost inhabited. Twilight once even spotted a chandelier and a large princess-sized bed amongst the items being moved into there. It was all so mysterious, enough so that the Cutie-Mark Crusaders would base many of their adventures around the ‘ghost’ house. Well, mystery solved; although the pony that now inhabited this space was no less obscure, and perhaps far more intriguing.

They stood outside like that for a while as Twilight levitated the luggage just past the door into the dark house. She could feel Fleur’s eyes on her, maybe inspecting her work, so she tried to organize everything satisfactorily for her new friend. The luggage needed to be stacked neatly and made compact so that it could be easily dismantled. After everything that happened since she arrived in Ponyville — the musical number, the event at the café, and now all the walking — Fleur must have been exhausted. It was a six hour train ride from Canterlot, so she must have been up since early morning as well. Twilight wanted her to have the easiest time unpacking.

“Um, Twilight?”

“Yes?” she responded without looking back.

“I can’t get into the house if you block off the entrance.”

Twilight quickly parted the dense wall of bags and cleared a walkway through the middle. “Right.” She giggled along with the unicorn. “Sorry, I get distracted easily.”

“I do too,” Fleur responded, still staring at her back.

“Well, I still managed to bring all of your bags inside in some orderly fashion.” Twilight triple checked to see that everything was nice and tidy and found that her efforts were satisfactory. “Looks good. I hope you won’t have any trouble getting moved in. If you do, just let me know and I’ll come with a few of my friends to help you out. I live in the castle over there.”

“You mean that massive tree fort built on top of the crystal tree? That one?”

Twilight smiled. “That’s the one! Anyways, it’s getting kind of late.”

Fleur made a clicking sound with her tongue and pouted. It reminded Twilight of the face that Rarity made whenever she wanted Spike to do something for her, or Fluttershy’s infamous puppy-dog eyes in that the expression was both powerful and unassuming. “You don’t want to stay for a while?” the unicorn asked, walking next to Twilight and leaning on her slightly.

Twilight leaned back and nuzzled her, feeling happy in the probability that their closeness was a sign of new friendship. But then Fleur made a purring sound and she drew back a little, shied away. She tried to play it off by turning her neck and checking on her sleeping assistant. “As much as I enjoy the sound of Spike snoring right into my ear, I really should go home and put him to bed.”

“The furniture is set up already. We could let him nap on the sofa while we, I don’t know,” Fleur looked up and shrugged, “go upstairs and have a chat.”

Twilight shifted on her hooves. “Maybe some other time,” she said, inching away just slightly. Why was she so nervous?

Fleur watched her shuffle around for a moment then sighed. She nibbled her lip, shook her head, and said, “Before you go, I want to ask you something.”

Twilight stopped. “Sure, what is it?”

“I hope I’m not just being conceited but, you were watching me, right? Me specifically? When I left the train station I mean.”

“I… yes.” She looked away. “I was watching.”

The unicorn hummed. “I thought I saw you glance at me a few times, but I wasn't sure. I was staring back of course.”

Twilight looked up again, hesitantly, hiding beneath her bangs. “You were?”

“An alicorn princess in the flesh! How could I not?”

“Oh, right." She laughed a little too loud. "That must have been a shocker, getting off the train and seeing a princess just staring at you. But I was just pony-watching. I hope you weren’t bothered by it.”

“Oh no, not at all! If I have a princess watching me then I must be doing something right. Or wrong.” There was something in the way that she stressed the word ‘wrong’ that confused Twilight. But she felt too relieved to give it any mind.

“Pay me a visit sometime, Twilight,” Fleur said, waving them off as she finally made her way into the dark house. “I’ll make it worthwhile.” She winked before shutting the door. For a while there wasn't any sound coming from within the house. But then the locks clicked and the lights inside turned on. Twilight turned around and walked away.

There it was again, she thought. The stressed word and the hushed tone, as if Fleur was communicating some secret. The way she inflected it, ‘worthwhile,’ was so curious to Twilight; yet she couldn’t decipher whatever ulterior meaning it held. But the hidden message was only one of the few things on her mind right then. Strange feelings were bubbling inside of her: joy, regret, excitement, and strangely, guilt. It reminded her of the first time she met her closest friends, and the first time she was presented with the Elements of Harmony. It was a certain welcome trepidation that came hounding whenever a new experience or a new flame of friendship presented itself before her. It was the anxiety of hope.

As she slowly made her way back to the castle, the conflicted princess attempted to distract herself in the items of her mental lists. There was just too much to ponder about otherwise. The events of the day were more taxing than she had realized and she decided to distance herself from them until the inevitable Pinkie Welcome Party that was sure to be within the next few days. Until then the cumbersome thoughts of her new hope could wait, and so she filed them somewhere far down in her list of things to contemplate. Her thoughts were soon occupied with formulas and properties as well as several appointments of which she vaguely remembered and was sure that Spike would remind her of. Gradually her unease faded, along with the bittersweet scent of perfume.