Captain Iron Hoof's Dream of His Wedding Day
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Captain Iron Hoof's Dream of His Wedding Day

Captain Iron Hoof is sleeping deeply, peacefully. He knows nothing of the scandalous transgressions of his best Knight towards Princess Twilight Sparkle. All he hears, as he sinks deeper in to his pillow, are bells; thousands of bells giving delightful tongue.

“Captain Iron Hoof, do you take Princess Twilight Sparkle to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

The Hall is dazzling with sunlight, the green bower heaving with deepest-red and purest-white roses. The columns are so laden with streamers and balloons it is like they have sprouted branches dripping paper and spotted garlands and wreaths. The carpet is soft felt and is bright red for the humblest and respectable love.

I look in to the eyes of my bride, behind her lace veil. Her eyes are glimmering with unshed tears. The bridal dress glows in tandem, elegantly draped over her body, the train rumpling in delicate foam on the floor.

I stand stiff in my bright red Captain’s dress uniform, contrasted by the sky blue sash, emblazoned with the purple spider’s star of my bride’s cutie mark; my tie and collar are straight. Not a stitch or fold cuts or rubs my body uncomfortably in way.

“I do,” I reply, confidence and boldness flowing through me, heart swelling; limbs, bones and fibres thickening and strengthening.

“And does Princess Twilight Sparkle take Captain Iron Hoof to be your lawfully-wedded husband?”

Twilight bites her lip, tears finally leaking out under her eye-lids and they shine more brightly than before. Behind her stand the Elements of Harmony, Prince Shining Armour and Princess Cadence (did she see from the start my feelings for Twilight were noble and honest and true?) and their parents Twilight Velvet and Night Light. All watch her and I with keen eyes, damp eyes and bated breath. The white unicorn, Rarity, is actually weeping, shoulders shaking. They are all so proud of her on this big day.

Princess Twilight grins, teeth gleaming behind the veil.

“I do,” she assents.

Rarity, Cadence, and Twilight Velvet sob in unison. Night Light takes Velvet’s hoof in his own. The clashing polychromatic pegasus Rainbow Dash punches the air, wings launching her off the floor. The earth ponies Applejack and Pinkie Pie celebrate in their own way. Applejack smiles happily and Pinkie Pie bounces in excitement.

My ears echo with those most beautiful and melodious words, as our contract is completed and not-quite-almost sealed.

“And, I, Princess Celestia, now pronounce you as mare and stallion.” Celestia steps back a bit, but levitating a pair of fat gold rings winking with diamonds on to my horn and on to hers. They fit, snug as a minotaur’s hand inside a gauntlet.

The scores of immaculate mares and stallions in the hall cheer, their shouts, and whoops, and whistles, bounce off the stone ceiling and arches and colonnade. The jubilation doubles and redoubles as countless hooves stamp the stone in rhythm.

“You may kiss the bride,” Celestia finishes.

I draw near to Twilight my bride and now my wife; I fail to prevent my happy smile from breaking out across my muzzle.

All the Elements and Cadence and Shining Armour and her parents (now my mother and father-in-law) bar Applejack are streaming liquid pride.

But I focus on Twilight. I light my horn and lift up one half of the veil, as I raise a hoof to part the other half. My Princess, my bride, and now my wife, is smiling, and blushing. She reveals those soft as velvet, slight violet lips which have tempted me for months.

I take another step closer and her warm breath catches. Her purple cheeks become rosier still. Twilight’s kind dark eyes look deep in to my own. My heart quivers, but for a moment. And I look deep in to hers.

She shuts her eyes. And I close mine.

And we kiss.

It is perfect.

Indescribable exotic pleasure rush and crash through me and her as our lips dance and pulse. Our union is sealed and petrified in to law and in love.

I pull away. Twilight is radiant with rosy-pink blushes, silver tears dripping from her muzzle and cheeks; her white dress catches the sunlight and the scintillating gold ring snug over her horn.

I hear again the deafening cheers and stomps of the wedding guests.

I turn to face the crowd, curling my hoof around Twilight’s (my mare, my wife!).

We step forward, down and off the dais, along the red carpet following it down other sumptuously bedecked Halls groaning with streamers and flowers to the balcony. There Canterlot and the whole wide world will see us and shed tears for us. Somewhere, along the way, I know, rice will be thrown, wishing us a hundred years of good fortune.

After the public presentation of the noble and proper stallion and the young and beautiful mare, there will be the reception, and the carriage to . . .

Celestia and Luna fall in to step behind us, so do the Elements, Cadence, and Shining Armour and my new in-laws. Bringing up the rear is Blue Blood, mane coiffed and combed, but the stuck-up brat does not murmur a sound.

With him is one particular Royal Guard, a knight, as shown by his light-blue saddle blanket on his back. His armour is solid gold and polished to perfection. There is no sign of a stain or spot or crack. His light orange coat blends with the gold armour. Deep blue bristles on his helmet quiver as he steps in to place behind Blue Blood, as his body guard. The body guard, Sir Flash Sentry, is the only one not smiling, but frowning, as if hiding the sadness in his sapphire eyes.

I deign to regard him for a second out of all the seconds of this wonderful day. Flash Sentry is sad; sad because he has been put in to his place and he knows it. And I know it.

He deserves it for kissing her fore-hoof and touching her again on the train to the Crystal Empire, according to Star Patch.

And don’t you forget for a second, Flash Sentry that I did not see (how could I fail not to see) your coat flushing every time you bowed to her; your eyes seeking out her face, her eyes; and your faltering, pausing tongue.

I know your heart, Flash Sentry. And it is broken. I have broken it. Twilight is not yours, will never be yours. She is mine. She could never indulge or return your puppyish feelings. Twilight is mine forever. Farewell, Flash Sentry. Cry your pitiful tears to-night in your tiny cell.

I walk on, zircon eyes roving from enraptured faces, wide with glossy eyes and fangs. They wear flowers in manes, flowers in button-holes, suits and brocade dresses, wigs and feathers, necklaces of gems and pearls. All wear identical expressions.

My wife and I step through the blinding shifting banners streaming in to the corridor and out on to the balcony. It is a hot summer day. The domes and spires of the city glint in the cloudless sky. Whereas scores were invited to the ceremony, now countless thousands of Canterloteers jam in to the wide plaza below inside the Palace walls.

Countless thousands: countless coat and mane colours complementing and contrasting blur in to greyness and blueness. And the countless thousands shout and cheer like all the rest. Distance does not make their congratulations fade in to indistinctness, thankfully.

I rear up on to the balcony rail and Twilight copies me. We wave and wave to the multitude below. Before long, I know what they want. And what the camera-ponies want for their papers to go from one end of Equestria to the other.

I turn to Twilight and she turns to me.

I intertwine my hoof with hers.

I smile. She smiles.

And for the people, for the newspaper-ponies, and for ourselves, we kiss.

An ear-splitting crack batters down our ears.

We open our eyes and turn our faces up to the sky.

We see a great disc of rainbow colours spreading across the sky as a second sun. At its heart, we see a thin rainbow trail streaking away.

We grin. We kiss again as the Sonic Rainboom bestows on us its blessing and its sanction.

Iron Hoof gurbles in to his pillow, fast asleep.

Meanwhile, far away, above the cottages of a certain monster-prone village, Princess Twilight Sparkle the bride-to-be and Flash Sentry the errant Knight break their first-ever kiss. But they do not break their embrace of hooves at neck and shoulder and cheek.

Twilight gasps for air. Flash gasps for air.

She looks deep in to Flash’s eyes, smirking smugly. And his mare leans in again, not pecking but plumping her lips on his left cheek and his right, his forehead, his nose and finally, his lips again.

Again they sink in to each other for a second time; the other’s hooves hold the other close. They do not hear their wings pumping in synch to keep them in the air. They instead hear each other’s hearts trilling louder and higher and sweeter than Vaughn’s sky-lark.

For a second time, they break the kiss.

Twilight giggles. And sighs, closing her amethyst eyes in ecstasy.

Flash grins, a true grin, perfect teeth glinting in Luna’s moon-light. He carefully rests his muzzle on top of hers, almost touching her horn, just for a moment.

Twilight squeaks a few words in to the fur at his throat.

“Best-Night-Ever!”