Forty Minute Fantasies

by CHeighlund

Rating: everyone
Tags: Random
Length: 10613

A collection of various short stories based on prompts for the Thirty Minute Ponies writing group.

A collection of short stories, all based on prompts for either the former Thirty Minute Ponies tumblr or the Thirty Minute Ponies FimFiction group. Content varies a bit, as the prompts could be taken almost anywhere, and my mind could wander on some rather strange paths during the time between seeing the prompt and writing for it.

So why 'forty-minute'? Well, I never did get the hang of the thirty-minute time limit…

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-03-18 23:25:11 UTC

Guesses

“Hey, Twilight!  Can we come in?”

Twilight Sparkle looked up from the tray of books she was sorting.  “Pinkie, this is a library.  It’s supposed to be open to the public.”  A few seconds later, in light of the pink mare’s stare, Twilight gave in.  “Yes, Pinkie,” she sighed, “you can come in.”

“Goody!” Pinkie bounded through the door, followed by Fluttershy and Applejack.  “Now we just need to find Rainbow and…”

“Over here, Pinks.”  Rainbow fluttered down from the top of the stairwell.  “I’ve been hanging out with Twi while she does whatever she’s doing to those books.  What’s up?”

It was Fluttershy who answered.  “We, um, well, Pinkie thought it might be fun to go on a picnic today, and we, er…”  She broke off, swallowed, then tried again.  “Do you think maybe the two of you could join us?”

Twilight shook her head.  “Sorry, guys.  Rainbow might be able to, but I’m going to be busy here today.  These books won’t shelve themselves, after all.”

Rainbow snorted.  “So ask Spike to do it,” she said.  “Wouldn’t that solve the problem?”

Twilight shook her head again.  "I can’t, Rainbow.  He asked me for some time for himself, and I told him he could take it.”  She paused, then frowned.  “Actually, now that I think about it, he’s been asking that a lot lately.  I wonder what he’s up to?”

Fluttershy looked up in alarm.  “Oh, I do hope it’s not something dangerous.  I mean, I can just imagine…”

Spike, scrawnier than normal and with black rings darkening the scales under his eyes, scrambled into the middle of the field, the contents of the bag on his back poking him in the side.  He looked around carefully, then pounded twice, pause, then three more times on one of the large stones nearby.  A few seconds later, a hole opened in the dirt, and a head poked out of it.  “You got the bits?”  it asked, suspiciously.

“I’ve g, got them, yeah,” Spike said.  “Just tell me you’ve got the stuff, please.”

The Diamond Dog snorted with laughter.  “Sure thing, kiddo,”  it said, pulling out a small pouch.  It opened the drawstring, then poured the contents, a handful of smooth white rocks, out onto its palm.  “Smooth nephrite, fresh-cut.”  Spike scrabbled towards the stones, only to have the Dog close its paw around them.  “Not until I get the bits,” it growled.

In response, Spike swung his own bag around, several golden coins spilling out as he did so.  “You’ve got them, you’ve got them!  Now gimme!”

“Suit yourself,” the dog said, tossing the small bag to the side.  “Just remember… price goes up next time.”

“I don’t care,” Spike said, several of the smooth stones already on their way to his mouth.  “Just keep these coming!”

“‘Shy, snap out of it!”  Startled, Fluttershy came back to reality, to where Rainbow’s wing was gently slapping her face.  “Spike’s not that kind of guy, okay?  He’s too cool to get caught up in something like that.”

Twilight nodded.  “She’s right, Fluttershy.  Besides, nephrite? That stuff’s pretty much harmless.”

“But, the last time I tried to offer Spike some gems, you told him not to…”

Twilight sighed.  “I told him not to eat any, yes.  Nephrite is a dragon soporific, Fluttershy.  I just didn’t want him conking out in the middle of the afternoon.”

“Oh.”  Fluttershy began to pull back in on herself.  “I’m sorry.”

“‘Shy, it’s okay.  I’m not quite sure why that was your first thought,” Twilight said, her head cocked to the side in confusion, “but I’m sure Spike appreciates that you’re worried about him.”

The touching moment was interrupted by Pinkie bounding in between the two.  “My turn, my turn!”  As every eye in the room turned toward her, she smiled.  “I’ll bet Spike’s trying to hide the fact that he’s really a dragon!”

Applejack rolled her eyes.  “Pinkie, we all know Spike’s a dragon.  Ain’t prezackly somethin’ he could hide.”

Pinkie turned, her eyes wide with excitement.  “That’s exactly it!  He’s trying to hide that he’s secretly some kind of hidden double dragon!  And he’s training for the day he goes looking for his missing brother Hammer so they can go rescue somebody important to them!”

For several seconds, everypony else stood, mouths gaping.  “That… that’s an interesting idea, Pinkie,” said Twilight at last, “but I’m afraid it’s not…”

Rainbow cut her off, then turned to Pinkie.  “Hate to break it to you, Pinks, but we’d have seen the signs before now if that were the case.”  She then turned to Twilight and began to whisper.  ‘Old movie; I’ll show you sometime.’

Twilight nodded, dumbly, then shook herself back to reality.  “What about you, Rainbow?” she asked.  “What do you think Spike’s doing with his spare time?”

Rainbow shrugged.  “I dunno.”  Then, as a sly grin rose to her face, “maybe he’s got some kind of a secret laboratory somewhere he’s scuttling off to?”

“Yes, yes!  Soon, it will be complete!”

A lab-coated Spike, wide goggles just over his eyes, stared at the sheet-draped table in front of him.  A pair of cables lead from a strange device on the wall to a pony-shaped form underneath the sheet.  “Now, my minion, throw the switch!”

“Yes, Master,” called out a hunch-backed Sweetie Belle.  “Throwing the switch now!”

Lightning danced around the room, and the figure underneath began to sit up.  “She’s alive, alive!” called Spike as it did so.  “My beautiful bride is alive!”

The pony-figure, revealed to be Rarity (her mane streaming back from her head, and a streak of white running through it), turned, snapping the cables from bolts attached to her neck as she did so.  “Yes, master,” she said, “I live… for you.”

Rainbow broke off as she saw everyone’s stares.  “What?”

Twilight rolled her eyes.  “I think you’re the one who’s been watching too many old movies, Dash.”

“Ah, whatever.”  Rainbow spun in the air.  “Your turn, AJ.  What do you think?”

Applejack snorted.  “Ah think you’re all a bunch of crazy coots, is what ah think.  At the risk of making a bad pun, I’d have ta say Spike’s a good egg.”  She turned toward Twilight.  “Jest trust him, Twi.  Whatever he’s doin’, he’ll tell you when the time is right.”

At the old ponies’ home, a draconic voice rang out.  “Next number - N57!”

“Bingo!”  The owner of the new voice, a lilac-colored mare with pinkish-orange classes, jumped up from the table.  “Bingo!”

Spike stepped over to her, taking the card.  “Hmm…” he said, looking it over, then “yep, we’ve got a winner!  Congratulations, ma’am!”  Then, as he raked the pieces back towards himself, “who’s up for another game?”

As the various mares and stallions of the old ponies’ home considered the issue, Mr. Waddle walked over.  “Bless you, young’un,” he said, “these past few weeks you’ve been just what we needed here.”

    “Hey,” Spike said, grinning, “happy to be of service.”

Old Friends

“And when they opened the coffin, there, sitting between Wellwisher’s mummified hooves was a single, perfect rose.”

As she finished her story, Rarity leaned back with a bit of pride.  Spike was frozen in place, a clawful of popcorn (long since cooled) locked halfway to his mouth.  Pinkie, for once, was completely silent, Applejack refused to meet her eyes, Twilight was shivering slightly, and poor Fluttershy had pulled herself backwards until only her eyes and the tip of her nose were visible underneath her blanket.  Judging by how violently the edges of the blanket were jerking around, it might not be there for long.

Rainbow Dash, of course, was airborne and loudly complaining.  “Bo~oring!  I thought we were supposed to be telling scary stories here!”

Rarity looked back.  “I happen to believe in the understated approach, Rainbow.  Your sordid little tale, for example, was far too overstretched to be scary.  True scares lie in the elements of surprise and mystery, not in bucketloads of blood and gore.”

Before round umpteen of the argument could begin, Applejack shoved a hoof between the other two.  “Girls, how about you two just agree ta disagree an’ we get on to the next story?  Sound reasonable?”

“I guess so,” Rainbow muttered, glaring down.

“Quite,” replied Rarity.  “So, who is next?”

Twilight looked down to the sheet of paper she’d been scribbling on.  “Um, according to this, it’s Fluttershy.”

As one, all eyes turned on the shuddering blanket.  “Oh, n,no,” came the voice from beneath it, “I d,don’t know any sc,scary stories.”  Then, almost as an afterthought, “and I don’t want to.”

Twilight leaned over, peering beneath the blanket.  “Fluttershy, how about this.  Instead of trying to tell us a scary story, why don’t you just tell us a story?”

“Nuh-uh!”  Rainbow parked herself almost directly above Twilight, glaring down as she did so.  “This is a Nightmare Night get-together, Twi!  If she tells a story, I want one that’s good for that!”

“Um, I could maybe talk about what I did last Nightmare Night, if that’s okay with everybody?  It’s not really scary, but it is about Nightmare Night, so…” The blanket trailed off, nervously.

“That’ll be fine, sugarcube,” Applejack said, glaring at Rainbow as she did so.  “Jest go ahead and start talkin’.”

Fluttershy finally poked her head out from underneath the blanket.  “Well, I’d just gotten a letter from a couple of old friends…”

“I hope they arrive soon, Angel - it’s almost dark out, and I don’t want to have to go too far in the darkness.  Especially tonight.”

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that tonight, lass.”  As Fluttershy ‘eeped’ and tried to hide behind herself, the door opened, revealing a white pegasus stallion with a shining white mane, strong, tall, and looking to be about the same age as Fluttershy’s own father.  “Sorry to bother you, dear, but you left the door open.  I hope I didn’t disturb you too badly.”

“Oh, Mr. Elpis.  It’s just you.”  Fluttershy sighed heavily as she stepped toward the stallion.  “I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m so on edge tonight.”

Elpis smiled, a warm expression that seemed to light the room around him.  “I understand, dear.  I take it you got our message?”

“Yes, sir.  I’d like to thank you and Miss Rose for inviting me to help you; I really wasn’t looking forward to being home tonight.”

“I understand, dear.  I’m afraid it’s just going to be the two of us for a bit; Rosie’s already at the hospital.”  A frown briefly passed over Elpis’s face as he spoke.  “She had an… appointment she needed to keep.  It… wasn’t exactly something that could wait.”

“I understand,”  Fluttershy said.  “But she will still be meeting us afterwards, right?”

“She will,” Elpis said, holding the door open for Fluttershy to leave.  “But I’m afraid, dear one, that you don’t understand.  And I hope you never have to.”

“About time you got here, El.”  The green-hided unicorn mare greeted Elpis and Fluttershy as they stepped through the door.  As always, Fluttershy’s eyes went to the wide white scar on the side of Miss Rose’s head, just under her golden mane, and Fluttershy had to pull them away.  “And Fluttershy, look at you!  You’ve gotten so big since I first saw you!”

Fluttershy dimpled.  “Oh, um, thank you, Miss Rose.”  She looked up again.  “Where were we going to visit?”

Elpis turned back to them, a pair of hospital saddlebags laden down with candy across his barrel.  “Foals’ ward, Fluttershy.  Second floor.”  As Fluttershy headed down the hallway, Elpis caught Rosie’s eye.  “Difficult meeting?”

She smiled, a single tear glistening as she met his gaze.  “Only the way they all are,” she said.  “He was ready to see me, though.”

“Thank the Maker for that.”  He extended his wing, wrapping it around her.  “Now, my lovely lady, shall we?”

“And we spent the rest of the night handing out candy and playing games with the colts and fillies.  I had a lot of fun, even if it was sad to see how badly off some of them were.”  Fluttershy smiled in memory, then turned back to the group.  “So I’m afraid it wasn’t really that scary.”

“No, it wasn’t scary.  It was absolutely sweet, and I’m glad you got the chance to speak of it.”  The others nodded as Rarity spoke.  All except for Spike, who had a strange expression on his face.  Without saying anything, he got up and headed upstairs.

Fluttershy’s gaze followed him.  “Oh, I hope I didn’t hurt his feelings.”

Twilight frowned.  “I’ll go find out.  You guys keep the party going, okay?”

“Spike, what has gotten into you?!” Twilight hissed.  “Do you realize how rude you just were to Fluttershy?  Go right back down there and apologize!”

Spike turned back to Twilight, a book in his hands.  “I’ll try, Twi, but I had to…”  He shook his, head, then handed the book across to Twilight.  “I borrowed this from Mr. Waddle, Twi.  Check this page, and the one three over.”

Puzzled, Twilight looked at the pages in question.  Each one bore the reproduction of a drawn portrait, rather old-fashioned, and both matching surprisingly well with the descriptions Fluttershy had given of her friends.  “That’s… unusual, I’ll admit, but what…?”

Spike shook his head again.  “I ended up talking to Nurse Redheart a few days after last Nightmare Night, Twi.  She was talking about how glad she was Fluttershy had shown up, since there wasn’t anyone else there to visit with the patients.  Wasn’t anyone else, Twi!”

Twilight stared, then turned back to the book.  And to the two images that Spike had shown her.

The proud white stallion entitled Spirit of Hope.

And the green mare with the white scar, labeled Chloros, gentle Death.

Free Shot

“O-Oh!  I’m sorry, sir, you startled me!  Please forgive my rudeness.  My name is Fluttershy; please, come in.”

Blueblood looked down, to where the butter-yellow pegasus mare who’d opened the door had drawn back.  She seemed vaguely familiar from somewhere, although he couldn’t immediately place it.  “I don’t particularly care,” he said.  “I’m a busy stallion, so let’s get to the point.  Is your husband home?”

She blinked at him.  “Husband?”  Then, after a few more seconds, “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not married.”

“Your brother, then.”

She shook her head.  “My family lives in Cloudsdale, sir.”

Blueblood felt his teeth beginning to grind together as his anger grew.  His time was precious; if Lady Blossom had sent him on a wild goose chase, he would have serious words with her on his return to Canterlot.  “I was sent here,” he growled out, “to seek out someone named ‘Free Shot’.  If I was given this location in error, I will-”

Blueblood broke off, stepping back involuntarily.  The mare in front of him was changing.  There wasn’t any actual physical difference, but as she rose to her full height her posture was shifting, her wings folding back to a sleek, streamlined shape, and a look of determination in her eye mixed with a sudden aura of sheer confidence, and possibly a touch of anger.  “Where did you hear that name?” she snapped.

“L,lady Elegant Blossom, in Canterlot!”  Blueblood cursed himself for showing even a second’s weakness, but the sudden transformation in his host's demeanor had shaken him to the core.

He also wasn’t much helped when she took a step toward him.  “I see.  So you’re here on business, then.”

Blueblood’s eyes went wide.  “You?  You’re Free Shot?  But you’re so-”

She gave him a look of disdain.  “Timid?  Weak, maybe?  Makes a great cover, doesn’t it?  Now, if my lady sent you, she’ll have given you a token to prove yourself.  Do you have anything like that on you?”  Her expression made it clear he wouldn’t like the results if he didn’t.

Frantically, Blueblood pulled at his saddlebag, fumbling out a small carved wooden rod resembling a set of six stacked acorns hammered into one another.  Both ends were stamped with Elegant Blossom’s house seal.  Once it was in the open, Blueblood all but threw it at Fluttershy, who snatched it out of the air with her wing.  After inspecting it, she bit down, snapping one of the segments off at the taper, then tossed the rest back to Blueblood, who had to fumble it a bit with his hooves before he remembered to grasp it telekinetically.  “I see,” Fluttershy said, “you were telling the truth.”  She bowed down low, a formal sweep Blueblood had seen many times before from Elegant Blossom’s house servants.  “By my acceptance of this token and in accordance with my lady’s commands, I pledge myself to your service until my mission may be finished.  So,” she said, rising to her hooves once more, “tell me - who do you want me to kill?”

Blueblood gaped. “No one,” he squeaked out, “exact opposite!”  As Fluttershy - or, perhaps, Free Shot - lifted her exposed eyebrow, he continued his babbling.  “They’re coming after me, and I need someone to stop them!”

“Go on.”

Blueblood nodded nervously.  “There have been attempts on my life recently!  They only happen when my guards are away, but they can’t stay by my side at all times!  I asked some of the other nobles for advice, and Lady Blossom sent me to find you!”

Fluttershy blinked, a slow grin growing across her face.  “I think I begin to see.  Tell me, mister Blueblood, do you have any big social events coming up?”  The grin turned sly, and she moved so as to view him sidelong.  “The kind where you, personally, might take, oh, a trophy date with you when you went?”

Blueblood felt his head bouncing as he nodded, and a small part of him wondered exactly how he’d lost control of the situation.  The rest answered her question.  “Opera production; I’m the composer’s patron.  There’s supposed to be a big feast after the first showing.”

“Mmm… I’ll have to get something to wear, then.”  She looked over at him again as his jaw dropped even further.  “I spent about a week or so as a fashion model, mister Blueblood.  Surely that’s the kind of mare a big social figure like yourself would take with you?”

“I’m terribly sorry, your highness!  I don’t know how this could have happened!”

Blueblood looked the Maitre'd straight in the eyes.  “I see,” he said coldly, “then I suppose you’d better find out.”  Then, turning to his date, “are you all right, m’dear?”

“Y,yes,” Fluttershy said, “just a bit shaken.”

“Of course.”  Blueblood didn’t believe it for an instant, although he had to admit she was an excellent actress.  The assassin had come disguised as one of the waitresses; only the brief narrowing of Fluttershy’s eyes had given Blueblood any sign something was up.  Fluttershy then had, seemingly quite innocently and by accident, managed to toss her soup in the mare’s face and her salad dish into the mare’s throat.  Then, under the guise of apologizing, she’d done… something.  Blueblood wasn’t quite sure exactly what had happened, but he did note that at the same time the killer’s eyes had bugged out while Fluttershy flustered at her, the sharp melon-cutting knife had vanished from Fluttershy’s place set.  That, of course, had been the point the ‘waitress’s’ panniers had slipped sideways, spilling the cleverly concealed vials of… something toxic, he didn’t know what, only that it had started to eat away not only the tablecloth, but the table underneath and even the silverware.

It had also left a hellish odor, still lingering even though the entire table had been carted away by the Royal Guards summoned by the Maitre’d in the aftermath.  Blueblood turned to Fluttershy.   “My dear.  Would you care to take in the night air?”

“I, I think I would,” she said, and Blueblood helped her off her bench, heading for the Opera House courtyard.

Once outside, Fluttershy’s projection of confusion and fluster vanished, replaced by the same cold calmness she’d shown Blueblood before.  “I don’t think you’ll have any problem with them tonight; they’ll be too busy trying to stay out of the Royal Guard’s gaze now that that acid dropped out of that one’s things.”

The words stopped Blueblood short as he pictured the consequences if she were wrong.  “Please,” he squeaked out, “don’t leave me alone!  What if she does have friends?”

Fluttershy glanced over at him.  “Fellow travelers, you mean.  Her kind don’t make friends easily.  And don’t be such a baby; I told you when I accepted your shot that I’d follow your orders until the mission ended.”  A sly smile crept over her face as she continued.  “Besides, even if I were inclined to call it finished, you’ve still got five more of them you could expend.  Either my lady sees something in you, or she’s decided to give you enough rope to hang yourself with.  Better hope its the former, mister Blueblood.  Otherwise, she might just decide to send me after you.”

Blueblood thought about that for a second.  Only a second; that’s all he could take before his legs gave way and he keeled over onto the grass.    The last thing to go through his head before the darkness hit was the phrase ‘Dead Stallion Walking.’

Talk

Ponies talk.

I don't mean they gab, or they gossip (although just between the two of us, both of those are true as well).  I just mean they talk.  It's what they do.

Okay, let's see if I can put it in perspective.  You know the Diamond Dogs, right?  Mangy things, live underground?  Diamond Dogs dig.  It's the same thing.

Or how about the Griffons?  You know, cat on the wing?  Oh-so-irritatingly-noble code of martial valor and all the nonsense that goes with that?  Griffons fight the same way Ponies talk.

Oh, for... do I have to spell it out?  I. T. Apostrophe. S. Space. T. H... you know what, forget that.  It's what they do, their go-to response for, well, everything.

Rabbits got into your garden?  Go talk to them, presumably through the yellow one.

Angry neighbors coming for you with pitchforks?  Either talk to them, or talk to the guards and have the guards talk to them.

Twisted monstrosity from beyond the edge of time and space?  Try to talk it down.  Only bother to take further steps if-slash-when that fails.

(Please note that this is about ponies in general; specific ponies sometimes rise above the urge to jaw at problems, although they often resort to other, equally predictable, equally boring, methods.  Rainbow Dash, for example, needs to realize that Punch It In The Jaw is eventually going to fail her.)

So yes, Ponies talk.  Of course, I can't really blame them for that little character failure.  It's all part and parcel of being trapped under Harmony's banner, same as having to manually run the environment.  Live for a while in Harmony's trap, with everyone else marching along to her tinny little tune - it'd be enough to break anybody. I mean, even Celestia - when I remember her better days, and think about what she's been turned into... A quote-princess-unquote, a urgh... diplomat...

And nobody's immune.  Even that little echo of myself I left down there, a gift to help lighten up their lives and make everything more exciting - they've even broken him to Harmony's traces.  Almost managed to snag me, even, before I managed to cut the bond between the two of us.

Oh, you've finally figured it out, I see.  Very good.  Yes, I'm him, or rather, he's a part of me.  Discord, the real, primal one, at your... not service, but I'm not sure what else goes right there.

And one more thing.  Remember how I said Ponies talk?

Well, I act.

They won't know what hit them.

Small Lady

Though she tried to hide it, High Lady Papillon marveled as she walked through the enchanted grove.

On rare (very rare) occasions, she had been permitted outside her mother’s caverns (albeit with at least a pawful of her mother’s guard to watch over her),  to see the grasses and trees that lay beyond.  Those were interesting enough, but… well, as she’d found when she tried, trees weren’t very good as food.  These, though - the young Diamond Dog’s eyes goggled as she took them in.  A vast expanse of trees stretched before her, all of them laden with food.

Papillon turned back, towards her current guardian, the strange orange monster called the Eyzhey.  The larger creature nodded, then turned and gave a swift kick to one of the trees, knocking a few of their ripe fruits off of them.  The Eyzhey held Papillon back until she was certain no more would fall, then allowed the young Dog to step over and pick one up.  She did, biting into it and relishing its sweetly-sour taste.

There were, Papillon thought, benefits to being a High Lady.  This enchanted grove, filled with such fruits, was one of them - the grove belonged, after all, to that ancient and wise monster known as the Grani, of whom the Eyzhey was but a servant.  Most Dogs were forbidden to tresspass on the grounds of the Grani’s domain, or of the vast lair of monsters that lay just beyond it, a realm of artificial caves of wood and stone.  Papillon herself was only allowed to walk this place of enchantment because her uncle, Oberjarl Togo, had requested it as a gift from the Grani, and a small part of Papillon wondered fearfully at what promises it must have cost him.   He had come, after all, to trade precious smithcraft, artifacts of virtue, for a supply of the very things she had so casually been allowed to devour.  A large supply, true - but still, the price must have been staggering.

When Papillon looked up, she noted that the Eyzhey had wandered off a bit, looking over one of the trees nearby.  Right as Papillon started toward her, though, a flash of color in the distance, bright purple, caught her attention.  Papillon turned, following that splash of color, and her heart froze within her chest as she saw what it was.

Another monster had stepped into the Grani’s grove.  Unlike the Grani or the Eyzhey, however, this one was pure white, a spike of white atop its head poking through the silken purple cascading down its face.  This beast Papillon knew from the tales told around the feasting table - the vicious monster known as the Mizraret, whose screams could freeze a Dog in her tracks, or bend their wills to the Mizraret’s own service.  Papillon’s breath caught in her throat as she realized that the Mizraret was heading straight for the Grani’s own wooden cave.

Papillon turned back towards the Eyzhey, but the orange monster was staring off into the distance.  Frantically, Papillon looked around her, spotting a stout branch on the ground, no doubt knocked off when the fruit had been.  She grabbed it and started running, a frantic ululation bursting from her throat as warcry as she sought to do whatever she could to prevent the Mizraret from harming her uncle or the Grani.

Rarity looked up from the cart she was hauling as the high-pitched ‘yiyiyiyiyi’ broke out into the morning stillness.  A bundle of fluff and dust, looking to be a bit smaller than Sweetie Belle, was charging toward her, a small branch held in one paw.

As the bundle of fluff drew close, it leaped into the air, the branch swinging downward.  Rarity grabbed at it with her telekinesis, and quickly held her burden away from her.  Seen like this, she held a young diamond dog, really just a pup, and Rarity couldn’t help but smile as the creature continued to thrash the air with her weapon.

About three second later, Applejack burst onto the scene, a loud cry coming from her.  The farm mare drew up in front of Rarity, looking chagrinned, and Rarity couldn’t help herself.  Swinging the little Dog around, she shoved it over towards Applejack.  “Lose something, did you?”

“Dagnabbit.”  Applejack winced as she continued.  “I’m awful sorry, Rares.  I was s’posed t’be watchin’ her for her uncle.”  Applejack then turned toward the young pup, growling and snuffling.  The still-squirming pup responded by barking, then swatting backwards with her stick, and when the Vargish conversation ended, Applejack looked up at Rarity in shock.  “You ain’t gonna like this, Rarity.”

“Try me, darling.”

Applejack shoved one hoof behind her head.  “Seems you’re somethin’ of a legend with the dogs now… some kind of hideous monster with a screeching voice and evil powers.  Papi here thought you were tryin’ ta hurt Granny Smith and th’ other Dogs as are here.”

Rarity’s face hardened.  “I see,” she said slowly, then snorted.  “I acknowledge your point, Applejack - I don’t like it.  However, I can’t help but admire her; she thought I was a monster, and came after me to protect her family despite that.”  She nodded, then continued.  “Besides, I recently received a new Prench serge I thought Togo might appreciate.  This will give me a chance to show it off.”  Rarity flashed a grin to Applejack.  “I’m going to need somepony to translate for me.  Congratulations, darling, you’re my new evil minion.  Now come along.”

Papillon struggled, to no avail, as the monster held her powerless.  She watched, horrified, as it turned its power toward the Eyzhey, taking control of Papillon’s former guardian with ease.  And her best efforts to escape were as nothing as the Mizraret continued towards the Grani’s wooden cavern.

The monster stopped a few feet away from the wooden cavern, sending the Eyzhey inside.  Moments later, the Eyzhey returned, leading the Grani and Uncle Togo onto the raised ledge that marked the mouth of the wooden cavern, and the Mizraret began to make its strange noises again.  After a few seconds, the Eyzhey began to speak, translating those noises into proper Varg.

“Most noble Jarl Togo, my lady decrees that I warn you to keep better watch upon your kindred.  She does not take kindly to being attacked, as the Lady Papillon did, and declares that she would be within her rights to claim the small Lady as her own.  However, even my lady’s heart may be moved by great love and valor, and she recognizes such within your own small Lady.  In recognition of this, my lady returns Lady Papillon to you, requiring of you in return the privilege of crafting for her a suit of royal garb by which others may know that the small Lady has won my lady’s favor.”

At those words, Papillon froze in shock.  She was still unmoving as the Mizraret slowly spun her to face itself, then gently lowered her to the ground, a smile on its lips.  Finally, the Mizraret lowered itself to the ground, its eyes never leaving Papillon’s face and the smile never leaving its lips, and the Eyzhey stepped over and spoke for the Mizraret.  “Lady Papillon, it is not fit for a princess to be carried like some common bundle.  Would you please climb on as I take you to your reward?”

Secret Agent Mare

“Something wrong, Bonnie?”

Bon Bon looked up at Lyra.  “A bit of a problem, yes.  I just got a message from my Agency Handler in Canterlot.”  She shook her head briefly.  “He has another mission for me, I’m afraid.”

“Oh.”  Lyra sank back into the couch.  “Do you know  how long you’ll be gone?”

“I’m not sure.”  Bon Bon walked over to the couch, settling down on the far end.  “Tell me something: do you remember the ruckus you and those fillies caused a week back?  You know, the ‘Local Youth Resistance Agency’?”

“Hey!”  Lyra’s head snapped up, her tone indignant.  “I paid our fines, and they said the Mayor’s mane will grow back!”

Bon Bon shook her head.  “I’m not angry, dear, just asking.  I think it may be related to this.”

Lyra’s gaze went from defensive to curious.  “O~kay?  Any particular reason why?”

“Well, it’s like this - you said Miss Sparkle looked you over and found a… what did you say she called it?”

“I couldn’t repeat the original words if my life depended on it,” Lyra said, staring.  “She eventually shortened it to ‘thought virus’.”

Bon Bon frowned.  “Yes… and do you know if she took any kind of defensive precautions while investigating you?”

Lyra closed her eyes, her head tilting back as she tried to remember.  “I don’t… I can’t recall anything, no.  Why?”

Bon Bon sighed.  “I was afraid of that.”  She turned, staring Lyra straight in the face.  “The new mission I’ve been assigned comes down to this: the Agency has received word from the Crystal Empire that Princess Cadance has been kidnapped.”  She held up a hoof to forestall any questions.  “The ransom message left behind identifies the group responsible as the, erm, ‘Trans-World Intervention League, Interception Group, Heist Team.’”  A rueful grin began to cover Bon Bon’s face as she finished up, saying “In addition to the detailed level of precision, note the acronym.”

Lyra rolled her eyes up, thinking.  “Trans-World Inter… T, W, I - oh, come ON!”  She stared back at Bon Bon, an almost pained look on her face.  “T.W.I.L.I.G.H.T.?”

“Now do you see why I think it’s related?”  Bon Bon shook her head as she rose from the couch.  “Given that I suspect you’ll be immune to reinfection by that ‘thought virus’, I think I’m requesting some backup on this one, dear.  I’ll start making the travel arrangements; you go round up your little L.Y.R.A. minions to help us out.”

Late

Blearily, Twilight Sparkle’s eyes began to open, and she slowly started to look at the room around her.  Those eyes were still only half-open when they settled on the clock.  ‘Mph,’ the filly thought, ‘that can’t be right.  It’d mean it was-’  “Seven fifty-two!  I’ve only got eight minutes!”

To say that Twilight catapulted out of bed would be inaccurate; a catapult can only throw its payload so fast.  Twilight’s motion, on the other hand, resembled the images of time-lapse photography she’d been studying the night before; to the unseasoned observer, there might have appeared to be two, perhaps even three purple fillies dancing around her bedroom as she gathered her schoolbooks and supplies.  A minute and a half was all the time that elapsed between her awakening and the last shoving stride as she threw herself out of her room.

As Twilight bounced off the foot of the stairwell, her father looked up.  “Hey, sweetheart,” he called out, “want some breakfast?  I’m making blueberry pancakes!”

“No time, Dad,” she called, snagging an apple and a couple of pieces of toast in her magic as she fled past him.  “I’ve only got five minutes to get to school!  I’m going to be tardy!”  The last word stretched out and dopplered; by the time her father was able to get his mouth open again, she was out the door and practically flying down the street.

At the commotion, Twilight Velvet stuck her head into the kitchen.  “Honey, what was that all about?”

Night Light shrugged.  “Twily said something about being late for school, and hurried off.”  He shrugged again, then went back to his pancakes.  “How far do you think she’ll make it before she realizes it’s Saturday?”

Little Spiders

“Hello, Applejack.  How are you feeling?”

AJ stared, fear and pain cutting through mind, at the horror that was talking to her.  Black shell, vicious fangs, holes punched through its legs and wings - the creature was obviously a changeling.  But that pink mane, those brilliant cyan eyes, even if they were double-rimmed now… those magnified the horror, because they went oh-so-true with the gentle voice the monster was using.  “Wha… what’ve they done to ya, Flutters?” AJ managed to bark out hoarsely.

The thing that had once been Fluttershy looked over at AJ.  “Oh, it’s quite interesting, actually.  Tell me, have you ever seen a tarantula hawk before, Applejack?”

“Wha…” A burst of coughing stole AJ’s ability to speak, the straining of her chest muscles tearing at her splayed-out legs, trapped as they were in chains.

In response, the Fluttershy-thing drew a small cup of water out of a nearby bucket, holding it to AJ’s lips.  “Shh… drink something,” it said, softly.  “You’ll hurt yourself if you don’t.”

Despite her own wishes, AJ felt a little bit of the liquid within slip past her teeth, and reflexively she swallowed.   By the taste (or rather, lack of one), the material was just plain water - lukewarm and a bit stale, but otherwise harmless.  Eventually, the Fluttershy-thing pulled the cup away, setting it back down, and came back to kneel in front of AJ.  “Better now?”

Grudgingly, AJ nodded.  “Shy, what does some bird have ta do with-”

The Fluttershy-changeling put its hoof to AJ’s mouth.  “It’s not a bird, silly filly.  Tarantula hawks are wasps.  They capture spiders, and they lay their eggs inside of them.  As the little larva inside grows up, it eats the spider.”  The changeling gave a little giggle, almost perfectly in character for Fluttershy, and AJ felt waves of revulsion running down her back as it did.  “That’s not quite how we do it, but it’s close enough.”

AJ stared, her eyes round and almost bursting out of her skull.  “‘Shy, please, if there’s any of ya left in there, let me go!  I’ll go find Twi and th’ other girls, and we’ll getcha back ta normal, I promise!”

The Fluttershy-changeling traced one chitinous hoof across AJ’s face. “That’s sweet, Applejack, but I don’t want to change.  I’m as much the changeling Sinea as I am the pony Fluttershy, and Sinea doesn’t want to let you go.”  Briefly, the changeling’s eyes went distant.  “Sinea-shy?  Sineshy?  What do you think, Applejack?  Is that what Pinkie would call me?”

“I ’spects she wouldn’t call ya anything, she’d just be cryin’ about losin’ ya!  Please, Flutters!  You’re stronger than this!  You can fight it, I know ya can!”

Slowly, the Fluttershy-thing nodded.  “You’re right, Applejack.  I can fight it.  But I don’t want to.”  She smiled, laying a gentle kiss on AJ’s brow.  “You’ll understand soon enough.”

AJ paled.  “No,” she whispered, “ya cain’t…”

Her words were cut off as the door to her cell opened, and the Changeling Queen from the royal wedding stepped into the room, holding what looked like a squirming lump of dough in her magic.  The Fluttershy thing smiled, turning and bowing to the Queen.  “Hello, mother,” she said.  “May I ask who gets to be Applejack?”

The queen smiled, a true smile rather than a smirk or grimace, and AJ felt her blood run cold at the sight.  “Little Arilus, I think,” said the Queen.  “She’s always been a bit sickly, and having a robust body like that would do her good.”  The Queen waved her hoof toward AJ.  “Would you do the honors, Sinea?”

“Of course, mother.”  Fluttershy-Sinea turned toward AJ, her horn sparking.  “Just relax, Applejack.  Relax for me, and I promise this won’t hurt a bit.”

She was right.  AJ felt no pain as the changeling grub began to eat its way into her.

She floated in a sea of nothingness.  She could feel nothing, she could see nothing, she could hear nothing.  Only memory remained, and even that grew fuzzy, as memories not her own seemed to flow in.  Had she really helped chase through a cavern underground, or was that someone else’s thoughts?  Surely she hadn’t actually kicked a tree so hard it fell on her, right?  Or had she?

Eventually, memory faded into a single slurry, and the world grew completely still.

AJ’s eyes shot wide open, peering out at the shapes around her.  They seemed blearily familiar, although she couldn’t place them, and one of them stepped forward.  “Shh,” it said, a gentle voice she remembered well, “it’s all right.  Do you remember your name?”

AJ concentrated.  AJ, of course… and hadn’t the last part been ‘-jack’?  But what was the A  part?  Memory surfaced, and the word spilled out.  “A… Arilu...jack?  Ariljack?”

The owner of the soft voice giggled, tracing a hoof around the horn on Ariljack’s forehead.  The other form, the larger one, bent down and began to smooth out the wrinkled wings on Ariljack’s back.  “That’s close enough,” it said, a two-toned voice coming lovingly from its mouth.  “My name is Chrysalis, dear,” the owner of the larger form continued, “and I’m your mother.  I promise you that everything else will become clear soon enough.”  The speaker bent down, planting a kiss on Ariljack’s neck.  “For now, though, dear, welcome to our world.  I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

Reflection

Princess Celestia woke to the glimmer of moonlight on her eyes.  It wasn’t exactly an uncommon awakening, but it did mean that her slumbers had reached their end, and she muzzily rose from her bed, her head clearing as she stepped over to the balcony doors.  Once on the balcony, she turned, facing the moon, and half-bowed to it and the dark scar burned across its surface before sparking her horn into life.

Slowly, the moon sank below the horizon, taking with it the last vestiges of silver light.  An ancient proverb popped into Celestia’s head, about it being ‘darkest before the dawn’, and a small smile graced her lips as she looked out over Canterlot, contemplating that.  Without the light of either sun or moon, the land was indeed wrapped in a deep darkness.  And into that darkness, Celestia gazed.

The gentle night breezes played with Celestia’s mane as she stood there, simply looking over the quiet darkness of Canterlot.  The stars above shone, and here and there, an occasional early lantern showed.  (And one late one - Celestia made a mental note to gently chide Twilight for spending all night in the royal library again.)  Still, these little pinpricks of flame and magic couldn’t roll back the drifting tides of the night.  As the Princess of the Sun, Celestia should, perhaps, have felt bad about that.  Instead, she took comfort in it, remembering days of long ago, days when the darkness hadn’t been something to fear, or to cast aside.  Days when the night’s gentle curtain wasn’t a veil concealing monsters both real and imagined, but was instead a comforting blanket, an invitation to rest after the labors of the weary day.  “Soon, Luna,” she muttered, half to herself.  “They’ll understand, I promise you.”

One moment stretched to two, to several.  Celestia could have stood there for much longer, meditating in and upon the darkness, but strident duty commanded her, in more ways than one, and so she sighed, lowering her head as she stepped to the other side of the balcony.  There, she once more sparked her horn into life, calling, and the darkness gently gave way to rose and azure as the sun peeked over the horizon.

Inversion

It was a beautiful morning as Twilight Sparkle stepped through the door to her castle.  She turned, trotting toward the market, ready to begin the day's tasks.  That didn't last long, though, as she soon stumbled across an unusual sight, and she froze in shock as she gazed upon it.

At the outer edge of the square, just by the edge of the stream, Rarity was on the ground, her normally-coiffured mane pulled into a simple ponytail and a sweatband around her forehead.  As Twilight watched, Rarity heaved herself upwards, then back down, then up again - only with the repetition did Twilight realize what she was seeing, and she stepped forward.  "Rarity?"  she called out.

Rarity paused mid-pushup, turned her head, and smiled.  "Hey, Twi," she called out, and Twilight received a fresh shock at the lack of her normal cultured tones.  "Something wrong?"

Twilight's mind froze as she tried to process her response.  "I- you- pushups?"

Rarity's smile didn't change, but the rest of her face scrunched in confusion around it.  "Well, yeah," she said, "I gotta be at my best when I face AJ, right?"

Twilight, after her brain restarted itself, tried again.  “You don’t find anything odd about you doing pushups?”

Before Rarity could answer, another voice, also familiar, came from behind Twilight, apparently having found the accent Rarity had misplaced.  “Whyever should there be anything odd about that, Darling?  Dear Rarity has always been one for that sort of rough behavior, after all.”  Then, as Twilight spun, Rainbow lowered herself slightly.  “Do forgive me for not coming to rest, Twilight, but it wouldn’t do to let the hems get dirty, after all.”  And, indeed, the trailing edge of her dress (her very fashionable dress, part of Twilight’s mind gibbered), was holding position about three inches off the ground.

Twilight’s head seemed to spin as she stared between her two worried-looking friends, and then she gulped and jumped back.  “I’m sorry,” she stammered out, “I must have been sleep-casting!  I’ll figure out how to turn you back to normal, I promise!”  Without another word, she spun on her hooves and ran back for the castle.

As she disappeared in the distance, Rainbow glanced down.  “You know,” she said, in a voice suddenly entirely hers, “we really oughta let Twi in on the gag before she tries to ‘reverse’ us into each other for real.”

“Quite,” Rarity replied, “but perhaps not just yet.”  She stood up, stretching out and shaking the mud from her hooves.  “Ecch,” she said, followed by “I do believe a visit to the spa is in order.”  She looked up towards Rainbow.  “Would you care to join me, darling?”

“Nah, no thanks.”  Dash flapped about four feet upward, then stared back down.  “Thanks for helping me prank Twilight, though.  I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Nightmarish

Slowly, the creature swirled through the air above the small town.

It had no true name, merely descriptions.  In this place, in this time, others had labeled it as ‘Nightmare’, after what it had done to its first victim.  First, but not last - a darkness gathered in the small town it now stalked, almost a worship of the poor fool that had been its last host, and the thing called Nightmare knew it would soon find fresh prey.

Finally, as the darkness descended, it made its choice.  The target was foolish, guileless; a perfect unsuspecting host.  Slowly, carefully, the Nightmare lowered itself into place and began to assimilate itself into its victim.

Moments later, a massive scream rang throughout the town.

Twilight raced up the stairs of the Sugarcube Corner, Applejack hot on her heels.  They’d both been down below, waiting for Pinkie to come out and join in the Nightmare Night celebrations.  Thus, they’d both been present to hear the horrible cry, more that of a strangled cat than of anything pony-like, and concern for their friend had shot the both of them upwards on non-extant wings.

As they arrived at the top of the stairs, a yell tore through the air, followed by the stallion doing the yelling.  Twilight caught Mr. Cake in her telekinesis before he could hit the wall, carefully depositing him on the floor.  “Sir, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” he said, panting.  “I heard Pinkie cry out, and then when I got here the door was locked.  I tried to get inside, and the door zapped me.”

Twilight’s eyes snapped over to the door.  “Magic, then.  Let me try.”  Carefully, Twilight sent a probing spell over the door.  The door, in response, flared bright crimson, and a beam of darkness flared out of it down the path of Twilight’s magic.  Twilight cut her spell at the last instant, coughing and choking even as the dark magic dispelled itself for lack of a conduit.  With that in mind, Twilight began to send her magic out in pulses, each one flaring, then dying in a spray of darkness.  Finally, after several minutes, one of the pulses dissipated without being swallowed, and Twilight nodded.  “AJ, break that door down!”

“On it, Twi!”  Applejack raced forward, swinging into place, and delivered a buck to the door that would have cleared any tree on Sweet Apple Acres.  The door fared less well; the wood around the latch splintered and tore, the door itself slamming open hard enough to shake the house when it finally came to a stop against the wall.  She then had to dance back as another blast of dark miasma poured out of the room.

Twilight took the lead as the miasma faded, darting past Applejack to stare at what lay inside.  Pinkie stood there, facing the mirror.  It had to be Pinkie - her mane was pink, her visible eye was blue, and a trio of balloons graced her side.  But the mane was straight, the eye cat-slitted, and the hide those balloons stood out from was deep black.  Twilight bit back a cry of fright, turning it into a single whisper.  “Nightmare.”

That cat-slitted eye immediately zoned in on Twilight.  “I am the Darkness which Devours!” it said, a low menace filling every word.  “I have plumbed the depths of the Outer Darkness, where there is weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth!  I have gazed into the Chasm of the Abyss, and spat upon the fires therein!  I am that which sows sorrow and reaps despair!”  That cat-slitted blue eye suddenly twitched, startling Twilight.  “And this mare is killing me!”

“Mmh?  Who’re you talking to?”  The words were, shockingly, normal, and Pinkie’s form turned, facing the door head-on.  Twilight heard Applejack’s gasp of shock, knowing it doubtless mirrored her own slack-jawed expression, as they stared.  From the right, Pinkie Pie was the monstrous black form they’d first seen, but from the left, she was her normal self, bright-eyed and smiling.  “Oh, hey Twilight!  Is it time to go out yet?”

Several seconds passed in silence before some part of Twilight’s mind reconnected with her wayward tongue.  “Pinkie?  What… what’s going on?  What happened?”

“Well,” Pinkie said, her own tongue slipping out to lick at her lip, “I was getting my costume ready when I heard this weird voice in the back of my head, and I looked up and saw Black Snooty here in the mirror.  And I thought ‘hey, she’s here, this is a party dedicated to her, so why not show her a good time and maybe make her less of a meany-pants!’”  Pinkie beamed at the logic of her thought, while Twilight scrambled to parse it.  “So I said she could join me, but I think she took it the wrong way because she got all ‘grr-bah’ and tried to float into me and I felt like I was turning into a puppet, but I said ‘No, you’ve gotta share’, and she still keeps trying to take it all even though I told her that’s not nice.”

“I am not nice!” screamed the Nightmare, using Pinkie’s mouth.  “I am darkness incarnate, devourer of light and life!”

As Twilight watched, Pinkie used her pink forehoof to bop herself on the nose, the blackness actually scrambling away from the point of contact.  “That’s not very nice, Black Snooty!  I think someone needs a cheering up!”

“NO!”  The force of the scream of horror set both sides of Pinkie to coughing.  “Sparkle,” the Nightmare said when it could speak again, “release me from this cursed existence!  This mare’s relentless joy is devouring my very soul!  Release me now, lest I inflict upon you tortures as vile as this!  I cannot think of worse!”

Twilight stared, swallowed, then spoke.  “AJ?  Go round up the rest of the girls.”  As Applejack sped out of the hallway, Twilight spoke again.  “Mr. Cake?  Go to the library, please, and ask Spike to bring me the Elements of Harmony.  We’ll need them.”

Mr. Cake began to turn, then paused.  “Wh... what are you going to do?  Will Pinkie be all right?”

“Pinkie should be fine,” Twilight said.  “As for what I’m going to do… have you ever heard the phrase ‘mercy kill’ before?”

Mr. Cake gulped, turned, and fled.

Justice [AU]

“And see to it that this gets delivered immediately!”  Grand Duke Blueblood stared down into the face of the Earth Pony Red Tape.

“Of course, sir,” the bureaucrat said, in that tone of voice used to placate whining foals.  “I’ll make sure your package gets delivered to the Empress right away.  You just go on about your business, milord.”

Blueblood groaned in frustration.  “Blast you, man!  My steward’s life depends on this!”

Tape calmly glared back at him.  “And I suppose you think browbeating an honest Earth Pony just out to do his job will help?  You nobles are all alike.”  The Earth Pony turned back toward the pile of paperwork in front of him.  “Now go on, shoo.  I’ve got more important things to do than listen to your complaining.”

Blueblood snarled, then turned to walk out the door.  In his rage, he was unaware of the smaller form standing nearby until it collided with him.  “How dare you-!” he began, then stopped.  Easy, Blueblood, he told himself, don’t take your anger out on an innocent.  He reached out, helping the mare he’d accidentally knocked to the floor get back up.  “Forgive me, my dear,” he said, “just because that blasted dung heap of a stallion is angering me is no reason for me to mistreat you.  I apologize, most profusely, for my behavior.”

The mare, a purple unicorn in a maid’s uniform - and one who seemed vaguely familiar - gave him a tremulous smile.  “You’ve no need to apologize to me, milord.  I’m merely Twilight, not anypony special.  But… I thank you, and I do forgive you.”  She looked around, noting the papers Blueblood had dropped in the collision, and began to pick them up, magenta light outlining them.  “I am sorry myself, milord - it appears I’ve made a mess out of your things.  I hope I’ve caused no harm?”

Blueblood shook his head, still biting down on his anger.  “Not really; they’re only copies.  I just wish I could be sure that the originals were going where they needed to!”  He bit his tongue as he realized he was shouting again.  “My apologies again, miss Twilight.  No doubt you get yelled at by the nobility enough as it is.  I shouldn’t be adding to your frustrations.”

Twilight smiled at him again, a bit more firmly this time.  “It’s not a problem, milord, really.”  She floated the bundle of papers, now collected again, over to Blueblood.  “May I offer you my ear to listen, allow you to talk through your problems?”

Blueblood began to walk down the hallway, Twilight right behind him.  “It’s a couple of blasted criminals and an opportunistic rival of mine,” he said.  “The first are a pair of stallions calling themselves Flim and Flam.  The two of them were captured in the act of attempting to steal their way into the home of Lord Rich and Lady Rarity of Ponyville.  In exchange for clemency, they spun an absurd tale of their previous doings and supposed fellow criminals, culminating in accusing my steward, Silver Salver, of treason against Empress Celestia!”   He shook his head.  “It’s absolute nonsense, of course; all of my household are loyal to the Empress.  But with the bad blood between Lord Rich and myself, he’s perfectly willing to take it absolutely seriously, if only to slap me down.”

“Have you no proof of your steward’s innocence, milord?”  Twilight’s words caused Blueblood to turn, glancing back at her… there was some strange tone there, one he wasn’t sure he recognized, or liked.

He stilled the thought, though, answering her question instead.  “I’m holding it,” he said drily.  “Hence why I’m so desperate for the originals to reach Her Imperial Majesty before she declares Salver’s fate.”

“You may have a problem then, milord - Red Tape is known to spend his bits more freely than he should, and many of us suspect him of taking bribes to do - or not do, as the case may be - his job in ways pleasing to his, erm, ‘benefactors’.”  Twilight looked up at Blueblood, apologetically.  “And now, if you’ll excuse me, milord, I really must get back to my duties.”

“Of course, my dear.”  As she left, Blueblood headed for the dungeons, hoping to provide what comfort he could for Silver Salver… although after the maid’s words,  he had precious little to give.

“All kneel!  All kneel for Her Imperial Majesty Celestia Augusta, Empress of Equestria and Keeper of the Sun and Moon!”

At the herald’s cry, all those in the throneroom, Blueblood included, went to their knees.  He glanced out of the corner of his eye as the Empress took her throne, her flame-colored mane and tail seeming to stream in the wind, little loops occasionally popping out of it like the fires of the sun itself in bands of red and orange, gold and white.  Only one spot of darkness marred her appearance - a thin crescent of obsidian, nestled against the base of a carnelian Sun emblem on her torc.

“We are here today,” cried the Empress, “that We may administer justice within Our lands.  Guards, bring forth the accused.”  At her words, several royal guards brought forth Silver Salver, bound in chains and covered in bruises, and at the sight of those wounds, Blueblood felt his stomach lurch.

Empress Celestia, however, seemed to have no issue with those signs of foul treatment.  Instead, she glared down at Salver, whose shaking form looked as though it was about to collapse.  “Silver Salver,” she said, finally, “you are here on a charge of treason against Ourself and Our throne.  Having reviewed the details of the case in hand, We have come to a decision - you are declared guilty, and sentenced to death.”

“You can’t-!”  The words were out of Blueblood’s mouth before he could stop them, and all heads in the throneroom snapped toward him as he frantically tried to will them back.

Empress Celestia stared at him with her dispassionate gaze, then nodded.  “We understand his value toward you, Duke Blueblood, and We have found no sign that you yourself were involved in your steward’s wrongdoing.  Therefore, We are willing to overlook this outburst.  But know this - We are the Sun, and the Sun will not be moved.  His sentence stands.”

“Even if it is an unjust one, your majesty?”  Once again all eyes turned, this time to the front of the throne room, where a mare had just walked in.  She was a unicorn; barring her lack of wings and height, her white hide and the flames forming her mane and tail might have made it difficult to tell her from the Empress herself.  This was one of the Empress’s Solata - her chosen personal servants, empowered to speak with her voice in all matters.

Empress Celestia stared down.  “Favored,” she said, “explain yourself and this interruption.”

The Solata bowed, then lifted up a packet of papers in a burst of magenta telekinesis.  “Most gracious majesty, I simply request that you look upon the information within these.”

Yellow magic overrode the magenta, and Empress Celestia looked over the papers.  When she was done, her eyes snapped up, glaring down to where Red Tape stood in the crowd.  “Why,” she asked, her voice dangerously low, “were these not brought before me?”

As Tape stammered and stuttered, another magenta glow appeared, this one gripping a small notebook.  “I believe you will find the answers within, Majesty.”

Empress Celestia took the notebook as well, fire rising within her eyes as she read it.  Once done, she allowed the notebook to drop, her gaze seething as she lifted her head.  Instinctively, everypony near her backed away, and it was well that they did.  The Empress’s mane and tail had merely been flame-colored before; now, they burst into full flame as her fury made itself known, and she turned the full power of that wrath down on the hapless Red Tape.  “You would dare seek to pervert Our justice, merely to fill your own purse?  Never Again!”

A beam of light, no thicker than the shaft of a quill, burst forth from the Empress’s horn.  It struck Red Tape, and within a few seconds only white ash wafting on the sudden updraft remained.  The Empress wasn’t finished yet, though; her gaze turned toward Lord Rich, who fell back, cowering.  “And you would seek to purchase such perversion, Rich?  No.  Such is treason, and will be dealt with as treason deserves.”  A glimmer of light began once more to grow on her horn.

Lord Rich fell to his knees.  “Please, your Majesty!  I beg of you, show mercy!”

“As you did, false-hearted one?  As We said when We falsely condemned a stallion by your malfeasance, the penalty for such treason is death - and the Sun will not be moved by your pleading.”  The beam lashed out, and once more only ashes remained.

Empress Celestia pointed a wing down at Salver.  “The prisoner is innocent; strike his chains.”  She then turned her attention back to Blueblood.  “Duke Blueblood.  We give Lord Rich’s former lands to you in reparation for the harm We have caused; We would suggest setting Silver Salver in charge of them.  Rule them well.”  Finally, she stood, flaring her wings wide.  “And now, Our Court of Reckoning is adjourned, until We have determined the full extent of Red Tape’s villainy and the truth behind those cases he brought before us."

Within his chambers, Duke Blueblood turned toward his Steward, now bearing the Duke’s own second-best cloak.  “Welcome back, old friend,” Blueblood said.

Salver turned toward him.  “Thank you for not giving up on me, milord.”

Blueblood shook his head.  “I never would… but I suspect there’s somepony else you need to speak with.”  His eyes went a bit distant as he continued.  “If you happen to see a purple unicorn mare among the palace staff, give her your thanks instead.”  Then, to himself, “and so the Sun can be moved, after all.”

Sleepless

Applejack was having trouble sleeping.  It was late, past eleven by the clock, and the farm mare should have been deep in slumber.  Instead, some vague noise just at the threshold of hearing had awoken her and was keeping her from falling back to sleep.  So, reluctantly, she got out of bed and started wandering the house, trying to find the source of the noise.

After several minutes, Applejack had managed to rule out the house as the source of the disturbing noise.  Bereft of options, AJ stepped outside and began walking around the house.  The noise picked up as she moved toward the side of the house facing the barn, and, almost in a trance, she started toward said building.  The noise, now audible as a dim pulse of rising and falling sound, grew in strength as she did so

AJ reached the barn almost on automatic, the dim light from the moon just barely enough to see her way to it. Once there, she put a hoof to the door and began to pull at it.  Almost immediately as she did so, the noise from within stopped.  Under other circumstances, that might have been enough, but Applejack finished pulling the door open anyway, then stepped inside.

AJ looked around the barn, bleary eyes taking in what she could see by the dim moonlight coming in through the door.  There was no sign of anything moving, although there were several strange shadows that shouldn't have been there.  Finally, Applejack turned her eyes upward, to where a single point of light glowed, and nodded.  "Evenin', Pinkie Pie."

From up in the rafters came back a timid, slightly guilty call.  "Um, hi, AJ."

"Pinkie, it may be dark and I may be half asleep, but I ain't blind.  You mind tellin' me what all these ponies're doing in mah barn this late at night?"

There was silence for several seconds, then the voice from above called out again.  "Dance party?"

"Dance party."  AJ snorted.  "Right, that explains yer DJ friend there with all her stuff.  Mind if I ask why?"

"The mayor wouldn't let us have it down in the town; she said she got too many complaints last time."

Applejack thought for a few seconds.  "You know, maybe it's just because I'm still mostly asleep, but that almost made sense."  She yawned, then continued.  "I'm too tired fer th' argument, so we'll save th' discussion 'bout askin' permission until the mornin'.  For now, though, ya mind keepin' things a bit quieter?  Some of us're tryin' to sleep."

"Sorry, AJ.  We'll try."

"Best I can hope for, I reckon."  Applejack nodded again, then turned and walked back to the door.  "Enjoy yer party, Pinkie."  With that, she stepped outside, closed the barn door, and headed back to her house and, hopefully, her dreams.

Amusement

“Huh. What's this? No. NO!!!”  Discord screamed as the light wrapped around him, encasing him in stone.  He reached out his talon, ready to snap it and end the effects of the Rainbow of Light, when the world around him went gray.

Well, mostly gray.  A single block of color, a vivid pink, remained, and she stepped up to him, leaving a pony-shaped hole in the fabric of spacetime behind her.  “Nuh-uh, Dizzy!  No cheating, you lost fair and square!”

“Cheat?  Who, moi?”  Discord looked down at Pinkie.  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Pinkie’s body started to stretch as she walked.  Her front legs kept moving even as her back legs stopped, and her neck lengthened, bringing her head level with Discord’s own.  “Then you won’t be going all clickety-clack, will you!”  Angry rant swapped to pleading.  “I played fair, didn’t I?  Back with the balloons?”

Discord stared into the blue eyes, then at his own talon, then back.  Reluctantly, he stretched the talons of his claw wide, letting his arm drift.  “Fine, you win.  I won’t make with the snapping.”

“Yay!”  Pinkie jumped around in the air, her elongated torso spinning into a pretzel.

Discord couldn’t conceal a chuckle.  “I have to admit, this was fun, Muse.  Although I’d still love to know how you convinced those ponies you were one of them.”

Pinkie’s head, now that of a draconequus itself, looped over to Discord, trailing her neck like a streamer of taffy.  “Simple, silly!  I’m a method actor!  Besides, where would you expect to find Amusement if not among friends?”

Discord grinned.  “I’d expect to find her among family.  Enjoy your victory celebration, sis.  You did earn it.”  He sighed, looking off into the distance for a moment.  “I guess I’ll see you in a few centuries.”

“Aw, don’t worry, Dizzy!”  Pinkie, or rather Amusement, tapped her rear with a hoof.  “Princess Celestia’s a bit of a prankster.  That means I’ve got her in my back pocket!  See?”

Discord leaned over, to where a miniature white alicorn was peering out from a flap in Amusement’s hide.  “So you do.  What are you planning?”

Amusement grinned.  “Give me a year or so, and she’ll not only let me bring you back, she’ll think it was her own idea to begin with.”  Amusement gripped Discord in a tight hug, then morphed back into her normal Pinkie form and headed back for her place with her friends.  “See you soon, Dizzy!”