Author's Note

Ready for the game? Look for the details in the author's notes at the end of chapter two, and don't forget to read the author's notes in every subsequent chapter *after* reading the chapter itself, or you'll get hit with spoilers!

1 - Her Majesty's (Secret) Service

There were eleven days until Hearth's Warming.

Nowhere in Equestria did the ancient spirit of unity shine as brightly as Canterlot. The timeless star of pony civilization, her magnificent palisades and flying buttresses kissed the icy sky of winter with the warmth of holiday lights. In her streets, ponies sang carols both old and new, every muzzle alive with its own opus of good cheer. At the city’s heart stood one of her most well-known traditions - a massive tree, nearly half as tall as the spires of the royal palace itself, bedecked in decorations donated from every home and city throughout the land, such that its glow could likely be seen from orbit.

These are the times when ponies rejoice in who and what they are. Where rivalries are suspended, merriment is made, and fellowship is shared from hoof to hoof. Even those ponies who have dedicated their lives to the safety and security of their brethren relax somewhat, allowing the joy of the season to fill their hearts and bear them through a bitter cold that has no power within the walls of the homes they protect.

With the approach of a sudden, great shadow, all of Equestria found itself buried in goose feathers, followed by a massive earthquake that rocked the dreams of Hector Silvermane as his chin came in contact with the bedroom floor. Rumpled by the depths of sleep, the normally gleaming white stallion shot up from his new position on the floor by the side of his bed, lines of red sand still marring the whites of his eyes.

“Featherquake!!” He bellowed, “Featherquake!!”

His warning was met with a tufted tinkle of giggles that rang out through the room like a breeze through tiny wind chimes. Disoriented, he peered over the side of the bed to find a soft blue mare staring at him with a bemused grin. She shifted under the quilts of their marital bed - her every move, the sparkle of her sunshine eyes, and her silly insistence upon tying her luscious mane back every night for sleep, was like poetry to him. Her grin broadened. Resting under her hoof was the down-soft weapon she had assaulted him with.

“Some captain of the guard you are!” She chided. “Didn’t they teach you to be ever vigilant or something at guard school? What if I was a horde of changelings or something?”

Hector shook his head. His mane, shimmering with the silvery hue of his namesake in the morning light, waggled around his shoulders as he sought to banish the last vestiges of sleep. “A horde of changelings doesn’t usually wage war with feathers, Chloe.”

“Uh-huh,” Chloe smiled, resting her cheek on a hoof and her elbow on the mattress. “Like you’d know when you’re asleep a your post like that. You’re supposed to be setting an example!”

Hector let out a mighty yawn into his hoof, smacking his lips in the very un-captainlike fashion only his wife ever saw. “Alright, alright, you win. In guard school,” he dictated as if reading from a brochure, “a young pony’s mind and body are tempered with both the speed and power of a locomotive, and the guile and finesse of a Wonderbolt in flight. But they don’t teach you how to deal with death by pillows.” He huffed playfully, folding his forelegs and trying to look haughty from where he sat on the floor. “And I’m never asleep at my post. I don’t have anything on my schedule until an audience with the princesses this afternoon. You’d sleep like I do too, if you were in my line of work.”

Chloe’s grin only broadened. She patted the empty patch of mattress her husband once occupied and nodded to the softly falling snow just outside the window. “I’m talking about a different post, soldier. The most important post. I’m pretty sure it’s against the laws of chivalry to let your lady fair get cold. Are you going to come keep me warm, or am I going to have to pull rank on you?”

Hector held up his hooves in mock defeat. “I stand corrected. What’s the punishment for falling asleep at my post, oh princess of my house?”

The earth mare raised her foreleg above her head. “We demand cuddles. Further, thy muzzle shall receive a thousand lip-lashes!”

The moment Chloe’s hoof rose, Hector lit his horn, caught her pillow in the glow of his magic, and tossed it in his wife’s face, slipping back into bed and wrapping her in his forelegs before her lips even finished forming a yelping noise.

“I overthrow you!” He rumbled, nipping at the tip of her ear as she tossed the pillow aside.

“You can’t do that. I outrank you.”

Chloe put a hoof on her husband’s lips. For a time she just stared at him, admiring the way the morning sun framed the thick musculature of his neck and shoulders until her hoof slid automatically to his cheek. Her smile faltered.

“I was expecting to catch you by surprise, but the way you yelped and...fell entirely out of bed,” she mused, concerned, “...you seem so tense. Is everything okay?”

Silvermane’s smile bloomed. Brushing a wayward cappuccino lock out of his wife’s eye, he replied, “Everything’s fine, sweety. Everypony gets a little lax around this time of year.”

“That’s exactly what I’m concerned about,” Chloe frowned, stroking her husband’s jawline. “Everypony...except for you.” She turned up her eyebrows and tilted her head slightly, giving him that look she had long learned was beyond his ability to resist. “Tell me please?”

Hector wilted before the only foe he both couldn’t and wouldn’t ever prevail over - the crocodile eyes of his bride. His grip loosened and he laid back against his own stack of pillows. “Really, it’s nothing. Just...well I spend plenty of time at court as it is, but if everypony is busy around this time of year with the holiday, the princesses are doubly so. It’s...just a little odd to be called into an audience right now I guess?”

Chloe pushed herself up in bed and rubbed Hector’s chest with a hoof, her smile brightening the room like the hazy days of midsummer. “You’re such a worrywart. You’re the captain of the royal guard now. Of could they’re going to want to talk to you a lot. It’s not like you don’t have anything to do, right?”

Bolstered as always by her reassurances, Hector scratched his own cheek sheepishly and then reached out to hook a hoof around his bride’s shoulder. “Right...you’re right. You know if it weren’t for you reassuring me all the time, I probably wouldn’t be where I am now in the ranks. What would I do without you?”

Chloe allowed herself to be pulled in until she was muzzle to muzzle with the stallion of her dreams. Before losing herself in a delicious hour of private time, she offered him a nugget of wisdom.

“You’d be lonely and frustrated. Two things you’re never going to have to worry about, ever again.”

* * * * *

Shortly after lunch, Hector Silvermane found himself marching at the head of his personal entourage down the massive, red-carpeted hallway that lead to the throne room of Canterlot Palace. His chest swelled with pride; his ears catching the rhythmic drum of chinked armor plates clinging in unison as his troops kept a singular lock-step behind him. Each passing mural or stained-glass work of art that depicted pivotal moments in Equestrian history only served to further straighten his back and harden his resolve.

It was a history he would now be a part of, and he was eager to take his place in it.

With the familiar weight of his plumed dress-helmet on his crown, he paused for the massive doors to be pulled aside, and then led his retinue to the waiting dais where the rulers of his nation sat.

“Orders, hup!” He called, coming to a stop as close as decorum would allow him to approach the elevated royal platform. On his order, his troupe fanned out behind him and moved to the edges of the narrow red carpet, standing in two perfect rows of half a dozen soldiers on either side. They all came to sharp attention as one, eyes front; the third in each row held aloft a flagpole depicting the colors of his regiment, beneath the seal of the royal house and the flag of the Equestrian nation. Hector levitated his helmet off his head and bowed low.

“Your Royal Highnesses,” he began with great formality, “It is my honor to be called into your audience.”

“Rise, Captain Hector Silvermane,” a familiar voice replied. As ordered, he rose to his full height and focused his attention first upon the Princess of the Night, who addressed him with a raising of her hoof. “Thou art well met this day, and we appreciate thy presence, despite the impetus of the pending festivities.”

“Not at all, Your Majesty,” Hector replied, averting his eyes respectfully just below his sovereign’s own gaze. “It is my pleasure to serve in any capacity Your Highnesses see fit.”

Princess Celestia, her mane everflowing with the colors of a glorious sunrise, offered a less rigid smile. “At ease, Captain Silvermane. Your reputation for decorum sufficiently precedes you.”

Hector let his shoulders drop only enough to obey. It was a move he had practiced in front of the mirror before his last promotion, to maintain a commander’s countenance while also obeying the letter of his orders, if not the intentions behind them. He turned to Celestia and nodded as deeply as he could without genuflecting again. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” He then proceeded to wait for the princesses to explain what they had called him in for, rather than be so bold as to ask.

“Captain Silvermane,” Celestia began, her smile vanishing. “Are you familiar with a village by the name of Little Hoofington?”

Hector wracked his brain, sure he was being tested, and eventually sighed. “No, Your Highness. Forgive me but it doesn’t ring a bell.”

“We are not surprised,” Luna chimed in. “Little Hoofington is a small village to the northeast, near the point at which the Pony Express splits lines between Manehattan and Phillydelphia. It is nestled in the foothills beneath the mountains that are home to Neighara Falls, and is purported to have a population of a mere one-hundred sixty-six. With natural barriers on all sides in the form of cliffs and mountains, it is both well-protected, segregated, and easily missed.”

“It is an old mining town,” Celestia added. “Once upon a time it was a port of call for prospectors in the nearby highlands. That was nearly a century ago, and it has since become not much more than a footnote in our history. Because if its geographic isolation, the remaining population has been relatively constant, and so the town persisted.”

Hector nodded, absorbing as much of the historical information as he could on the first go-round. “Is there some trouble in this village?”

Luna nodded. “Verily, Captain Silvermane. We and our sister have received reports of possible changeling activity in the area surrounding Little Hoofington. There has been a gradual exodus of the local population, and while the citizens who have emigrated from the village are so few in number that it does not provoke concern...what they have had to say, does.”

Celestia tousled her flowing locks and elaborated. “What few ponies have trickled into Canterlot, Ponyville, Fillydelphia, and Manehattan claim that they left because they felt they could no longer trust their neighbors. Drastic changes in personality and attitude, to the point that those reporting them felt their closest friends had become different ponies overnight.”

Hector felt the coathairs on the back of his neck rising. “If what they say is true...”

Luna only nodded, completing the thought, “If what they say is true, there is a possibility, however remote, that anything from a small group of rogue changelings to an entire hive are attempting to infiltrate the area.”

Celestia furrowed her noble brow. “The events surrounding the marriage of Princess Cadance and your predecessor, Shining Armor, before the pair took up permanent residence in the Crystal Empire, is by now well known to the changeling nation. It is possible they would choose just such a tactic to regain a hoofhold on our lands. Target a small, outlying community that is relatively isolated and could potentially be repopulated by drones without our even knowing.”

Hector replaced his helmet and came back to attention, clicking his fetlocks and offering a staunch salute. “Your Highnesses, I understand the situation. I will mobilize a division at once.”

Luna held up a foreleg. “Stay your hoof, Captain Silvermane. Thou shalt do nothing of the kind.”

Hector was already nodding unspoken commands to his well-trained guards, but everypony not on the dais froze in response to this new command. Hector felt confusion settle over the plan he had already decided on -- to march on Little Hoofington and exterminate the threat.

“Your Highness, if it pleases you,” He chose his words carefully, “May I ask why? If there’s a threat, surely we should respond in force, to send a message to the enemy that we will not be terrorized.”

“We will respond,” Celestia said, forcing all attention to her, “But you must understand, Captain, we cannot be certain of changeling involvement. At this stage, no good will come of upsetting and frightening the ponies of Equestria by bearing down on one of our own villages with a deployment of troops. Especially not this close to Hearth's Warming.”

“It is imperative,” Luna added, “that this operation be conducted with the utmost discretion, to avoid spreading paranoia and fear among our subjects. This is why our sister and I have chosen thee, Captain Silvermane. Thou art readily available and thou hast our utmost trust. Thou shalt make preparations to depart for Little Hoofington on the morrow, where thou shalt conduct a systematic and thorough investigation to determine the validity of potential changeling activity. If thou findest the claims to be a false alarm, thou shalt return to Canterlot as discreetly as thou hast left, turn in thy report, and we shall speak no more of this.”

Hector narrowed his eyes in challenge to foes he could not yet see. “And if I do find evidence of changeling activity?”

Celestia frowned. It was that deep, worn-in frown Hector was used to associating with the crown princess only when she was making morally difficult decisions. “Then you have the authority of the royal house to eliminate the threat to Equestria, using whatever means you see fit...including deadly force. When you have completed your task, you will again return, make your report with as much discretion as possible, and we will confer and instruct you as necessary from that point on. Do you understand your duty?”

Hector bowed low. “Yes, Your Highness. I will make preparations at once. How many guards am I authorized to select for my task force?”

Celestia shook her head. “No guards. You may arm yourself, but you will go alone.”

Hector glanced between the royal sisters as if expecting one of them to shout ‘Hearth's Warming Fools’, and burst out laughing at his expense.

“Y-your Majesties,” He began to mentally weigh the distance between suggestion and insubordination, softening his tone in deference. “Forgive me, but...alone?”

“Discretion is of the utmost importance, Captain,” Celestia replied. “You will travel alone, and you are to consider the details of this assignment to be top secret, not to be discussed with anypony, until you arrive at your destination.”

“Fear not,” Luna chimed in. “Little Hoofington is equipped with both a local constabulary police force, and a guard station. Thou shalt have the support of the local authorities and representatives of the guard in which thee already command. Thou shalt, of course, be provided with a writ bearing our seal that places thee in imminent command of all local law enforcement, with the authority to declare martial law should thou believest the situation dire enough to warrant it. Thou shalt not be alone.”

Hector absorbed his orders with a stiff upper lip, but his mind was alive with concern for his orders. “Yes...I understand, Your Highnesses.”

Celestia nodded, her pleasant countenance finally returning. “Good. You go with the blessing of the sun and the moon, Captain. My sister and I would not have selected you for this assignment if we did not think you capable of completing it. I wouldn’t worry too much. Ever since Queen Chrysalis was discovered and banished from our lands, there have been new claims almost monthly of ‘changeling activity’ all over Equestria. To date, all of them have either been unfounded accusations, or hoaxes.” A smile finally touched her lips, “I have no doubt that you will be with us again in time to review the troops before the annual Hearth's Warming Eve parade.”

“That many reports?” Hector blurted out the question before he could stop himself. The crown princess dismissed the outburst and replied.

“Paranoia is the strongest weapon of an enemy that can look like your closest friend until it’s too late. That is why discretion is your priority. If word were to get out of this operation, we’re quite certain Hearth's Warming this year will consist of nothing other than dispatching troops all over the country to keep the peace and allay the fears of the citizenry, while investigating more wild, baseless accusations. But we can never be certain which accusations are baseless until we investigate, which is why this task must be completed quickly, quietly, and immediately.”

“Unless thou hast any additional inquiries,” Luna quipped, “thou art dismissed. Make thy preparations and prepare to depart on the morning train to Manehattan. There is a ramshackle, unpopulated station for Little Hoofington on the way - only one train a day, in this case the morning train, stops there.”

“Yes Your Highnesses,” Hector replied. “I am honored by your trust in me. You won’t be disappointed.”

The two sovereigns nodded their approval.

“Orders, hup!” Hector called. He spun on his heels, and with his retinue already in formation behind him, marched from the throne room.

* * * * *

“How long will you be gone?” Chloe pined, her cappuccino brown mane dancing freely about her shoulders as she stuffed another water bottle into her husband’s pack.

Hector knew his wife’s moods even better than he knew Celestia’s - what she wasn’t expressing this time was how worried she was for him. He smiled reassuringly, sat his tea down, trotted up close across the spotless kitchen, and wrapped his lover in his embrace from behind, nuzzling into her mane.

“Relax,” he said softly. “It’ll only be for a few days.”

Chloe sighed deeply, frowning into a nearby mirror as she leaned possessively back against her mate. “Can’t you even tell me where you’re going?”

“Just that it’ll be cold this time of year.”

“Everywhere north of Appleoosa is cold this time of year!” Chloe complained. “You’re the captain of the royal guard! Can’t you, I dunno...delegate?”

“The princesses called upon me specifically for this task,” He explained, treating himself to an unabashed whiff of her favorite shampoo. “They have faith in me.”

“...so do I.”

“Then believe me when I say I’ll be back in time for Hearth's Warming,” He smiled, running his hooves up and down her forelegs from shoulder to elbow.

Chloe shut her eyes. In that moment, she focused her attention entirely upon recording every moment of their time together. His scent. His touch. Their closeness. When she glanced back into the mirror again, she found herself blushing like mad.

“You dirty stallion,” She cooed. “I hate it when you mollify me like that. And I hate even more than it works every time, and that I don’t really hate what I’m hating.”

She spun around in his embrace and pressed her lips to his. She was a strong-willed mare, with authority in her own circles and a reputation as the captain’s wife, but in private, she could revel in appreciating the cadence of his heartbeat as she laid her ear against his chest and stared up at him.

“You’re taking warm clothes with you,” she commanded. “Where’s your scarf?”

“Lost it in the laundry two weeks ago,” He admitted sheepishly. “Haven’t seen it since and and I don’t have time to tear the closet apart.”

“Then you’re taking mine,” she insisted. “And if anypony tells you you’re out of uniform for wearing it, you have my authorization to hoof them in the face.”

Hector pulled one foreleg from his wife and touched a hoof to his forehead in salute. “Yes, princess of my house. Any further orders?”

Chloe’s smile vanished, and the depth of her concern radiated throughout the room such that Hector instantly felt guilty that he had to keep the details of his assignment secret, even from her.

“Come back to me. I can tell you’re probably going north. The weather up there is punishing this time of year. Come back to me and let me keep you warm again.”

Hector flattened his ears - a gesture nopony who obeyed his orders would ever be so privileged to see - and borrowed another sweet kiss for the road.

“...always.”

Hector Silvermane was under strict orders to board the eastbound morning train without fanfare, and while drawing as little attention to himself as possible. As the engine pulled out of the station, he tugged a flowery pink scarf around his neck and looked up at the tall overlook of the posh residential quarters reserved for senior officers and their families. Even from so far away, he could see a tiny speck of blue waving at him.

He returned the gesture.

“...see you soon.”