Ponies of Choas' Dawn

"We thought you two would be perfect together..."

Celestia was not happy.

For what must have been the hundredth time that morning, she raised her hindquarters up until she was standing up straight in a properly postured posed and held herself there until she heard the contemplative ‘hrmm’ from her regal mother. After just a few seconds, she winced as she heard those fateful words once more:

“One more time with the lilac one?”

The young unicorn filly felt the corner of her right eye convulse slightly as she returned to the sitting position that she had just been in and waited for the seamstress attending to her to replace the ‘pink’ bow that had been tied at the base of her tail with one that was a slightly pinker ‘pink’. Celestia couldn’t honestly tell the difference between the two of them, and she suspected that the mare altering her dress had accidentally mixed the ribbons and their subtly varied hues up a few times throughout this process; but that had not stopped Princess Platinum from whittling down their options at an excruciatingly slow pace. Had it been up to the young heir, she would have forgone the bow completely and simply called it a day. In fact, there was a lot about her garment that she would have preferred to omit, if she were to be truthful.

Not that she was going to breathe one word of any such thoughts to her parent. Long ago had been the day when the little white filly had learned that her mother could not be moved by any force on Equus on a few matters. One of those matters was formal attire.

Of course, Celestia had been of the notion that the meeting that this dress was intended for was supposed to have been anything but ‘formal’ in nature. As the scenario had initially been explained to the filly, it was to be a social occasion. Well, it was mostly a social occasion, if one wanted to be technical about such things. There would be hours spent carousing and talking and laughing—even some games for the younger ponies to play—but all of that was really just a façade, Celestia knew. While not even her much more bluntly spoken father had been crass enough to come right out and state the point of the gathering, the filly understood what the ultimate purpose was:

She was going to be picking her future consort.

There would be many years to go before anything was ever formally put to paper or publicly announced. Her parents would be keeping most of these proceedings looking rather innocent and innocuous for the time being. Not every peer in the Unicornia House of Lords was a firm believer in the Alliance and the policies that their liege and her rather rugged consort were pushing through the parliament. There had been considerable grumbling when their numbers had been thoroughly infiltrated by dozens of pegasi as an inevitable step in the unification process between their nations.

The militant pegasi tribes had not been possessed of anything that quite approached nobility the way that unicorns defined it. Theirs was a meritocracy where it was not simply enough to be born to notable parents—though that often opened many doors early in an aspiring Pegasus pony’s life. In order to be held in high regard, and attain positions of power and authority, a Pegasus had to earn them; typically through feats of arms and strength. Commander Hurricane had not been born into the leadership of his tribe; he had earned it through a lifetime of hard-fought battles and grueling trials. As was the case for the rest of his senior officers.

Meanwhile the peers of Unicornia were where they were today because that was where their parents and grandparents had been. Positions of leadership were their birthright, and they were groomed from a young age to hold those positions and execute their duties as befitted their noble heritage. To suggest that they somehow needed to ‘prove’ that they could do the very job that they were raised to perform was nonsense!

Many heads had butted between the two sides of the new House over these matters. A lot of the sitting nobles felt slighted to see such pegasi ‘rabble’ brought into their ranks; as though it somehow reduced their own personal worth. This would not be the first time that the nobility had grumbled in the history of the unicorn tribes; and the royal bloodline had traditionally applied salves to these personal injuries in the form of stately marriages. A colt or filly from one of the more powerful families would be taken into the royal house, thereby inherently ‘lifting’ the status of the family in question and bind them more faithfully to the crown.

Several of those families were no doubt privately eyeing the two young princesses even now as they plotted amongst themselves to see who would have the privilege of getting their colts married into the monarchy. Tensions were certainly running a little higher after Celestia’s mother looked outside of the peerage for her consort in an effort to avoid future animosity with the Pegasus tribes. While most of the powerful noble families certainly understood and even applauded the move openly, they still privately recognized the lost opportunity for themselves and the stark break with tradition.

Now their mother was designing another such match to bring the princedom even greater prosperity. Celestia and Clover the Clever had discussed the political and practical ramifications of a formal and enduring alliance with the earth ponies. There was simply no practicable reason not to do it; and simply leave the land open to the possibility of another Long Winter like the one that the tribes had faced a decade ago. The euphoria of their initial survival and first years of cooperation was starting to wane, and old wounds were being reexamined. Something much more substantial than a trade agreement was needed.

However, taking one of the available princesses out of the equation when it came to the Peerage was going to twist quite a few very powerful horns. Once Celestia’s hoof was formally promised to an earth pony, there would a great deal of infighting among the noble families as they clamored to be selected for Luna’s hoof. Given her sister’s physique, Celestia had to wonder if it might not lead to an even fiercer divide within the House of Lords as the long-standing unicorn nobility began to worry that one of their new winged comrades might not be favored for a match.

Never mind that the pegasi didn’t go for such arrangements—Luna had no martial acumen, nor would she ever; but that would not occur to the unicorn nobles. They would see matters in terms of breed and perhaps discount the notion of any of them having their families elevated entirely. That would be very…dangerous for Princess Platinum and her family. If none of them felt like they had a chance, then it was very possible that they would begin plotting to overthrow the throne and place themselves upon it.

Oh, yes, there was a great deal of risk that their mother was taking with this little proposal of hers. Hopefully that aspect would not be lost upon the earth ponies when a formal announcement was made; not that Celestia believed most of them had a firm grasp of the inner workings of unicorn pony peerage politics.

That was years down the road though. The filly was trying to keep her thoughts more focused on the immediate future; which consisted of tomorrow’s trip to the lake for a waterside picnic with Smart Cookie’s family. It was something that would be far easier to do if she didn’t have to keep standing up so that her mother could see how her dress and its accents caught the light as she moved.

“Hrmm…” Celestia barely managed to suppress a shiver as she heard the familiar sound once more, “…I don’t know,” there was a long pause, “which one would you prefer, sweetie? The lilac, the lavender, or the mauve?”

The young princess forced herself to take a deep breath and not dwell on the fact that a good two hours of fussing and thought had just been reduced to letting her ultimately pick a color anyway. She merely smiled and turned her head to face the three cuts of silk that were floating in front of her. It was a testament to her ability to maintain her composure even under the most stressful of circumstances when the little white unicorn found herself faced with what looked—to her eyes—to be three swaths of fabric that were all the exact same color.

After only a moment’s hesitation, which the filly attributed to a mild stroke she had just suffered upon beholding the source of the extended deliberations, she pointed her hoof at the stream of shimmering cloth in the middle, “oh, that one is every so lovely!” she gushed, “it’ll match my eyes perfectly!”

Princess Platinum beamed at her daughter, “you’re absolutely right!” to the seamstress she said, “we should be done here then. Are you sure you can have everything ready by morning?”

The tired looking unicorn mare tasked with dressing the members of the royal household nodded, “of course, Your Majesty. They will be awaiting Their Graces in their dressing rooms the moment they’ve had their breakfasts.”

“Perfect,” the reigning princess looked to her eldest daughter. Her magic played with the hem of the flowing gown as she looked thoughtfully at the ensemble, “…do you think it would look better if the skirt were pleated?”

Celestia and the seamstress shared a brief look of matched dread at the prospect of being here any longer. Fortunately, the filly had an excuse that would assure her escape from this ordeal, “oops! Look at the time; I’m going to be late for my lessons,” she flashed a veiled wink at the seamstress before shucking the dress completely and shrugging helplessly at her mother, “I guess the dress will have to suffice as it is. See you at dinner, Mother!”

Princess Platinum managed to get out something approximating an acknowledgement as she glanced around for the non-existent clock that her daughter had used to confirm the hour of the day. By the time she looked back, the filly had vanished from sight and the other unicorn mare was hurriedly making her way out of the room with the dress in order to complete it according to the timetable that she had set for herself.

The truth was that her lessons weren’t going to be for a little while yet, but it had been a convincing enough sounding reason to be permitted to leave. By the time Celestia’s mother was able to track down a real timekeeping device and discover the deception, it truly would be time for the young princess’ lessons with the First Councilor. In the meantime, the little unicorn mare decided that she would swing by the courtyard and see how her younger sister’s own tutoring was going.

While the two siblings did study together on most academic topics like history, etiquette, and such, their days did include private instruction that was tailored to their specific needs. In Celestia’s case, this constituted learning magic with the Alliance’s archemage. Meanwhile, the younger sister spent that same time in the care of their personal armsmare, Captain Maelstrom, learning the finer parts of advanced flight maneuvers. Some of these techniques trod on the fine line of genuine combat maneuvers, and Celestia was never sure if that had been something her father had specifically given his blessing on—certainly their mother wouldn’t have—or if it was a liberty being taken by the good captain. In either case, the little unicorn filly could not think of an instance in which Luna had complained about the drills.

Once she was outside, it did not take the young ground-bound princess long to spot her lofty sibling. The smaller winged filly was soaring in the company of an armored crimson mare as the executed a series of aerial acrobatics among the rising spires of the castle. Celestia had often beheld the flight drills of the pegasus component of the Alliance’s military as they exercised near the castle for her father’s appraisal; so she quickly recognized how slow the armsmare was taking things with the much younger flier. On a good day, the little unicorn suspected that she could have easily run just as fast as the pair was currently flying. Of course, she doubted that speed was the purpose of their current lesson so much as learning the finer points of careful control of one’s flight path.

As she watched, she could spot when Luna seemed to drift slightly out of formation with her instructor; at which point the older scarlet mare would slow even further and straighten out while she waited for her charge to reacquire her proper place at her side. Then the pair would resume their previous course once more. In the unicorn’s estimation, her younger sister wasn’t doing too badly—not that she knew all that much about flying. Except for the occasional, and admittedly rare, misstep—misflap?—they seemed to be flying rather gracefully around the many spires and parapets of the castle.

“A stunning sight,” Celestia stiffened suddenly at the unexpected sound of somepony talking nearby. She had been so enamored by her sister’s flight that she must have lost track of her surroundings. There certainly hadn’t been anypony around her when she’d arrived. She recognized the owner of the voice too, which did little to help calm the little princess, “if I may say so, Your Grace.”

Composing herself and calmly turning to look over her shoulder at the sharp-faced unicorn stallion who had apparently sat down nearby to watch with her, the filly smiled and nodded her head, “indeed, Duke Ironshod. My sister is becoming quite the skillful flier.”

The ivory stallion who had taken it upon himself to join Celestia in providing her younger winged sister with an audience for her lessons was—unfortunately—not a pony that the little princess could overtly snub or dismiss, no matter how much she might have wanted to. Most of those reasons were rather political in nature, and had been explained to Celestia in great detail after a much more naïve little filly had had the impropriety to repeat some sentiments that she had heard her father express regarding the duke. That had not changed the opinion that Celestia had of the stallion, of course. Indeed, a now much more knowledgeable filly found herself in complete agreement with her sire after learning about the details concerning the animosity.

Where ponies in the Pegasus tribes needed to earn their positions of authority, unicorns had them appointed to them. Sometimes these appointments were based upon merit, but far more often they were political calculations. The more powerful a family’s influence was, and the more resources they had, the more prestigious the position they could expect to be given by the Crown. Duke Ironshod belonged to one such powerful family in the princedom. In exchange for his support, and a few favorable votes on matters placed before the House of Lords for consideration, he had been bestowed with the title of, First Lord of the Calvary. This effectively made him the premiere military authority and its supreme commander—save for the reigning monarch herself, of course.

However, as with a few other things in the ostensibly ongoing merger of Unicornia and Pegasopolis, there were…disagreements regarding the duke’s authority as it pertained to the Pegasus military units. According to the literature regarding the duties of the First Lord of the Cavalry, the pony holding the title was granted nearly unilateral control of any and all members of the princedom’s armed forces—though the Royal Guard fell into thankfully different hooves. Thus, the duke—somewhat rightfully—felt that this meant that it was he and not Celestia’s consort father who should be in command of the newly integrated air force the Alliance possessed. Commander Hurricane, of course, was not about to relinquish control of his command just because he’d gotten married. According to every Pegasus tradition, he was to rule over his tribe until the day he died.

There was also the small matter that absolutely no Pegasus soldier was ever going to even think to obey a command given to them by a pony who had—technically—never even donned armor. Things were already contentious enough among the pegasi as her father worked to get them to accept control of the tribe passing to one of his daughters after his death without trying to get his soldiers to listen to some random unicorn noble.

The legal sparring between Celestia’s father and the duke would have been bad enough on its own to earn the stallion a position of low esteem in the princess’ eyes. However, the rather abrasive noble was also one of the peers who happened to be maneuvering himself into a position whereby he might have good footing to ask for the hoof of either Celestia or her younger sister at some future date. Thus far, the majority of his attempts to engage the princesses in cordial conversation had been rather keenly focused on the unicorn filly. Celestia judged it to be a rather calculated choice, rather than because he actually held the young unicorn in any high esteem. As the eldest, Celestia was the heir apparent to the Alliance, which would have made Duke Ironshod the prince consort upon the eventual death of her mother. It was Celestia’s theory that the duke believed he would be able to ‘manage’ his younger bride and rule through her.

The princess found herself torn between the desire to demonstrate to the duke just how wrong he would be should such circumstances ever come to pass; and the feeling of utter revulsion that she felt at the very thought of being wed to the pompous stallion and his overinflated ego. A part of the filly very much desired to ‘spill the beans’ on her mother’s designs to have her eldest daughter marry an earth pony and watch the duke’s face as he saw all of his lofty schemes be rent asunder in a matter of minutes. However, she knew better than to be quite so crass. Her mother was well aware of the duke’s designs and was making her own plans to deal with him when the time came.

The stallion smiled down at the young unicorn filly, “she is, Your Grace,” he said, his blue eyes lingering on the little princess, “however, I was referring to Your Grace’s radiant self, sitting here in the sunlight.”

Celestia managed to suppress a grimace and keep the reaction an internal one as she processed the stallion’s vapid compliment. Had she been some gilded young mare of the court, she could see how somepony might have appreciated such praise and even responded positively to it. However, the princess had been taught by Clover the Clever and her parents—especially her father—to have a much more cynical view of any compliment paid to her by a member of the Peerage. While Celestia made no claim to be a skillful player of the ‘Great Game’ that was engaged in by the realm’s noble houses, she was knowledgeable enough to at least be aware of when somepony was attempting to move her about like a pawn.

The little unicorn’s job in such situations was to play along and allow the other ponies to think that everything was going according to their plan. As such, the young filly feigned a blush and turned her head away coyly, “you are too kind, Your Lordship,” she responded, both happy with how convincing her performance sounded to her own ears and disgusted with herself for actually saying the words aloud, no matter how insincere they might be, “you need not flatter me so.”

“Nonsense,” the stallion said, sounding obviously pleased at the response that he had gotten. Encouraged by the princess’ reaction, he strode up closer and sat next to her, his piercing blue eyes focused on her, “every princess deserves to be praised for her stunning beauty and robust character. What sort of loyal stallion of the Crown would I be if I allowed Your Grace to go even a day without hearing how much she is admired by those who serve her?”

Her skin veritably crawled to have him so close to her, but Celestia didn’t let her smile falter. In an effort to divert the duke’s attentions, she put her eyes skyward towards her younger sister, “have you ever wondered what it would be like to fly, Your Lordship?”

Out of the corner of her eye, the young princess saw the duke’s smile flicker at the sudden shift in the subject of their conversation. He glanced upward, following the filly’s gaze, and spotted the pair of fliers. The stallion cleared his throat even as his expression noticeably soured at the sight of the armsmare, “I can’t say that I have, Your Grace. The ground has so much to recommend it, that I have not thought much on the subject of leaving it.”

“My sister insists that it is great fun to fly,” Celestia continued, taking no small amount of glee in sensing the stallion’s dislike of the topic. The duke didn’t like much that was related to pegasi, come to think of it, “I should like to try it sometime.”

The duke snorted in an amused fashion, “I am afraid that Your Grace might find that such a dream will go unfulfilled; unless you should find a means by which to grow wings. Myself, I would suggest much more reasonable endeavors.”

“Such as?”

“Your Grace has such a lovely voice,” the duke inclined his head slightly, “I should think that the whole realm might beg a chance to hear you sing someday.”

Celestia cast her gaze at the stallion. This was certainly a new tactic for the stallion. Again she had to applaud his skillful negotiation; a more receptive mare might have fallen to his charms by now, “singing? That had not occurred to me,” which was the honest truth, actually.

“I’m shocked that nopony has remarked upon the matter before, Your Grace,” the stallion even sounded a little genuinely distressed at the news, “it would be a tragedy for the princedom to be deprived of such a thing,” he tapped his chin for a second, as though he were thinking hard about something, before an idea ‘spontaneously’ occurred to him, “as fate would have it, I think I have a solution!”

The little unicorn managed not to roll her eyes. Of course the duke had a ‘solution’ to the problem that had not existed before he mentioned that it even was a problem. She politely waited with an expectant expression to hear the stallion’s revelation, “my sister is the proprietor of an opera house in the city. I am quite sure that I can persuade her to come to the castle and tutor Your Grace, if you would like?”

“I wouldn’t want to impose upon your sister, Your Lordship,” Celestia began to protest, but the duke would have none of it.

“It is never an imposition to serve the Crown, Your Grace!” he insisted, “it would honor me greatly if you would allow my family to serve you in this way,” the duke executed a low bow to the filly.

It took the young unicorn princess a few seconds to come up with the proper stalling tactic. She knew that this was some new plot of his to get himself in a better position to eventually vie for the role of consort, but Celestia couldn’t quite see it yet; and she was loath to agree to something when she couldn’t see all of the angles. She needed time to find out what the repercussions would be, “I’ll need to confer with my mother, Your Lordship, before I can accept. She’ll need to make accommodations among all of my other studies in order to fit in lessons with your sister, if they even can be.”

The duke at least seemed to find this to be an acceptable excuse as he straightened up, “of course. I had forgotten how busy Your Grace is. Please, do bring up the matter with Her Majesty when next you see her. It would honor my sister greatly to be of service to the Crown.”

“I shall, Your Lordship,” Celestia briefly inclined her own head slightly. Then her eyes darted to a robed mare who was walking their way, “my apologies, Duke Ironshod, but it seems that those studies I mentioned have come to call.”

The stallion glanced briefly back and noticed the approach of the princedom’s archemage, “do not let me keep you, Your Grace,” he assured the filly. To Clover, he nodded slightly, “Lady Clover.”

“My Lord,” the First Councilor acknowledged before turning her attention to the princess, “Your Grace, if I might escort you back to my study?”

“Of course,” she glanced briefly back at the duke, “until next time, Your Lordship,” and with that Celestia and her tutor trotted off in the direction of the castle’s south tower, where Clover and her own mentor, Starswirl the Bearded, made their residence.

“Remind me to properly demonstrate my gratitude for rescuing me just now when I am in a position to grant you a fitting reward,” the filly murmured once the two of them were safely out of earshot, “I am thinking of something along the lines of a fief in the southern lowlands…”

The archemage chuckled, “I have often styled myself as a baroness,” the older unicorn mare mused. Then she stuck out her tongue, “but then I remember that I would need to take my seat in parliament next to such, erm, charming ponies like the good Duke Ironshod.

“Might I suggest you reserve appointing me a fief until such a time as I offend you deeply, Your Grace?”

The two of them shared a laugh at that notion, “I concede your point,” Celestia allowed with a sigh, “mother assures me that she is aware of how much of a problem the duke is becoming, and I know father would just as soon he were outright stripped of his titles altogether to put the matter to rest for good,” not that there was ever a chance of that happening. While technically within the purview of her mother to do; without a firm founding for such a drastic action, there would surely be an open revolt against the Crown from nearly every other noble in the realm if Princess Platinum did so.

Clover the Clever winced at the thought as well, “a more delicate hoof is needed for that one,” she said, confirming Celestia’s own thoughts, “and his are not that only designs that could make mischief for the Alliance,” at the younger filly’s questioning look, the mage elaborated, “Lady Juno recently made mention to me of her concerns regarding the next round of Crown shipping contracts. Again.”

The young princess frowned thoughtfully. That was concerning, since it brought to mind one other hurdle that her mother was going to have to cross while forging her alliance with the earth pony tribes. Their agrarian prowess was well-known among all breeds of ponies, and indeed a full three quarters of all of the food consumed by the citizens of the Alliance was imported from earth pony farms; much as it had been for generations. However, the means by which this food was transported to Alliance lands were through shipping companies owned and operated by unicorns.

With so much cargo being reliably transported on a regular basis, receiving contracts to oversee all of the Crown’s food shipping for the next year was an incredibly lucrative proposition. Typically, as another means to appease certain lords and ladies of the peerage, those contracts were awarded to satisfy disgruntled nobles. Besides, the contract had to go to somepony, and it might as well benefit the Crown in some way.

This time though…

The truth was that the earth ponies were possessed of a much more robust and efficient freight delivery system. The objectively stronger breed was simply capable of hauling more goods over longer distances in less time than an equal number of unicorns. There was also a good deal less graft involved which made their contracts far cheaper. The only reason that the Alliance Crown didn’t currently employ them is because of how unseemly it would have been for the monarchy to be looking outside the realm for such services when they could be provided by members of the government.

That was all going to change once a more formal arrangement was made with the earth ponies and they were brought into the Alliance. Once that happened, they would be citizens of the realm as well, and there would be no objectionable reason not to use those cheaper and more efficient freight companies. It was going to stick in the craw of a lot of the peers who were used to being the only game in town when it came to such matters though.

“Mother is going to renew the contracts,” Celestia said evenly, “this time. In the future though, she and the others are going to need to reconsider their business models,” the princess cast the older mare an aside glance, “perhaps if you could steer them towards other business ventures?”

“You are greatly overestimating my leverage with the nobility, Your Grace,” the archemage snorted in amusement, “they do not heed any of my advice, they just vent their grievances; because they know that I hold your mother’s ear. They believe that anything that they say to me will be brought to her.”

“I am not sure what causes me more distress,” the filly grumbled, “that the nobility is so stupid as to believe that is the case, or that they believe the Crown’s First Councilor to be so vapid that you would come galloping to mother every time you heard tell of somepony fussing over trivial matters.”

“Would you prefer that they approach you and your sister?”

“No, now that I think of it,” she admitted, “though I was of the mind that there existed a proper forum for the Peerage to voice these concerns,” the filly pointed out, “or have a greatly misjudged the reason why mother and father hold Court every day for several hours a piece?”

“What?” the emerald-eyed mare said in a shocked tone, “are you suggesting that the nobility whine to the Crown?! They would never survive the blow to their dignity,” she chortled.

It was at about this time when the pair arrived at the thick wooden door which led to the First Counselor’s study. The archemage’s horn glowed green and the heavy portal swung inward. The unicorn then offered a slight bow to her liege, “after you, Your Grace. I hope that you have been studying your amniomorphic spells…I’ll take that pained groan as a ‘no’…”

“And...flare,” the surprisingly deep and gravely voice of the pegasus mare flying along beside Luna commanded in its usual firm tone. Obediently, the younger dark-blue feathered filly flexed out her wings out to their fullest extent and pumped them several times. Her forward momentum died quickly, leaving her hovering nearly motionless in the air. A heartbeat later the next command came, “roll left.”

The little winged princess tucked in her left wing while simultaneously pushing downward with a powerful stroke of her right. The result was that the young flying princess rolled over onto her back just as the older crimson mare next to her was, “dive,” just as Luna righted herself, she clamped both of her wings in close to her sides and felt herself start to plummet downward.

Her cyan eyes caught sight of the armored figure of Captain Maelstrom as her personal armsmare pulled ahead of the falling princess. The mare glanced behind her at her charge, “the cloud on the left,” she said, “try to stop yourself as close as you can without actually touching it,” she looked forward once more, and her body somehow seemed to stretch out like a missile as the elder pegasus increased her speed and pulled further ahead of her pupil, “like this!”

As Luna continued to fall towards the indicated cloud, she watched intently as the pegasus captain arc to one that was nearby at speeds far greater than the younger princess could have hoped to achieve. Her velocity was such that the little filly was positive that the mare was going to simply burst right through the cloud and reduce it to so much invisible vapor. It was with wide eyes fully of amazement that the princess watched the more experienced flier snap out her wings at the last possible moment in a large sweeping movement that happened so quickly her pinions looked to have been all around her body all at once.

The guard captain then calmly extended all four of her legs, setting them gently upon the surface of the cloud she had been aiming for without budging the rest of her body so much as an inch. She had stopped at the absolutely perfect height above the cloud. She flashed her brown eyes at the royal sister who was currently still in the middle of her own descent and gestured to the nearby cloud that she had instructed Luna to mimic the maneuver upon.

Of course the little blue pegasus knew full well that there was no hope of perfectly replicating the actions of the superior flier. However, she at least intended to improve upon her performance of her previous attempt of this same exercise yesterday.

She narrowed her eyes at her indicated target and prepared herself to open her wings and mirror her instructor's own performance. All that she needed to do was wait for that perfect moment when the cloud was just—oh.

The little blue Pegasus grimaced as she poked her head up out of the cloud bank. She shook her head furiously for several seconds in order to dislodge a few fragments of white fluff that had adhered themselves to her mane. With all of the dignity that the little princess could muster, she extracted herself from the inside of the cloud and started to very deliberately shuffle bits and fragments of it around with her hooves until she had smoothed out its surface, leaving no trace of her recent misadventure.

Only after she was satisfied that her perch had been properly reconstituted did the young flier seat herself regally upon it and clear her throat, “I miscalculated.”

To the crimson guardsmare’s credit, she managed to keep her expression rather neutral, “oh, I’d say tha’s a fair observation, Yer Wee Grace,” after a moment’s pause, she added, “if I may though, princess: you were spot on with yer aim. A commendable bull’s eye, I reckon,” she leaned over to appraise how centered the filly on the cloud beside her was.

“Are you going to make me try again?” Luna did little to try and hide to reluctance in her question.

Fortunately, it seemed that her protector was going to take pity on her this afternoon, “not at this moment, no, Yer Wee Grace,” the mare shook her head, “we’ll jus’ park ourselves here a might an’ rest yer wings,” she cocked a smile and stretched out her pinions, “mine too, now I think abou’it,” she groaned.

“You’re really tired after that?” the young Pegasus inquired, sounded dubious. She certainly wasn’t tired from their day’s activities, so she found it hard to believe that her much older and more experienced instructor could have been.

The mare snorted, “not tired, per say, Princess. Jus’ old.”

“You’re not that old,” the filly protested, “you’re younger than Father.”

“It’s not the years, Princess, it’s the mileage,” the scarlet flier insisted, her spine issuing several audible pops as she arched her back sharply. The mare sighed contentedly, “ooh, tha’s the ticket!” she exhaled slowly and reseated herself, looking at her charge, “I’ve flown from one side of this world to t’other more times n’I’ve ever cared to count, you know?”

“Really?”

“Oh, aye,” the older Pegasus nodded. Then she favored the young filly with a sly look, “I dinnae get this assignment jus’ on accont’a my radiant beauty, believe it’re’not.”

The little blue princess giggled as the other mare struck up a mock coy pose and fluttered her eyes. The joke, of course, lay in the fact that only stallions with a very specific taste is mares might ever have described the captain of the guard assigned to watch over the Royal Sisters as ‘beautiful’. In Luna’s estimation that older mare was certainly not ugly, but her features were, um, ‘unpolished’ might have been a sufficiently polite way to describe them.

There was no comparison that could be made whenever the guardsmare was in the company of the usual mares of the royal court. Where those regal Ladies possessed meticulously groomed coats and faces that were exquisitely painted with the finest make-ups that made them glitter and positively glow in the right light; Maelstrom’s coat was dull and plain, and her main was cropped shorter than most stallions. Her face was broad, and her jaw squared and pronounced. From the right angle, one would have been forgiven for thinking that the crimson captain was a stallion. Even hearing her speak would not have necessarily cleared up any misconception, as her voice was gravely, and her tone on the deeper side.

Her deficiency where any of the gentler attributes associated with the fairer gender were concerned notwithstanding, Maelstrom did not give any indication that she considered it a detraction from her worth. Indeed, on one accession Princess Luna had heard the mare remark: “if I ever felt a need to take a stallion home wi’me, well, I reckon I could jus’ as soon suplex the sod an’ take him home wi’me! Seems a lot simpler’n battin’ my lashes until they as near fall off m’face…”

“Does that mean you’ve met griffons? Is it true that they have wings like a Pegasus, but a head like a bird and paws like a manticor?” Luna asked with piqued interest.

“Pfft,” Maelstrom waved a dismissive hoof at her royal charge, “I’ve met far stranger folk’n griffons!” she leaned in close, as though the scarlet guardsmare were about to divulge some great secret, “there’re a tribe of hippogryphs far to’da east, beyond the Foggy Mountains. Folk as got bird heads and wings with pony legs. I e’en met a sphynx while I’as there.

“A sphynx?” the princess’ mouth played around with the strange word as she repeated it.

“Oh, aye, Wee Grace! Sphynx’re a folk what look like a Pegasus and a manticor fu—er…um,” the mare clamped her mouth shut and cleared her throat as she rethought her choice of phrasing, “…started a family.

“Suffice it t’say, Princess,” Maelstrom said in a tone that suggested she was eager to bring their conversation to a close, “this world has many’an odd folk innit. I’m certain in due time, you an’yer sister’ll make their acquaintance as th’Alliance grows.

“An Ol’ Maelstrom’ll be there to keep th’ nastier ones in line fer’ya. I may even bring along th’ rest o’the guard if’n I feel like sharin’!”

“Clover says we shouldn’t assume that tribes we meet want to fight,” the younger princess ventured, “she says it’s better if we approach them as friends first, so that they don’t get the wrong idea about us.”

The scarlet mare’s face scrunched up in a slight cringe as she cleared her throat and chose some rather more diplomatic words than she might have been apt to use with other, less regal, company, “all respects to Mas’er Clover, Yer Wee Grace, but not e’ry folk I’ve met is inclined to be friendly; no ma’er how widely yer hol’in open yer hooves.”

“But what if they misunderstand and it starts a war?” there was no missing the note of concern in the little pony’s voice.

The crimson guardsmare studied her young pupil for a moment, and then reached out and drew their clouds together so that she could drape her foreleg around the younger filly. It was probably not the most proper of actions with regards to the protocols to be observed with royalty, but Maelstrom hadn’t been raised in a climate imbued with those rigid tenets were concerned overmuch. Doing this felt more natural; and she figured it would do more to calm the little royal filly. Luna leaned into her protector.

“In my own experience, Yer Wee Grace, if’n folk aren’t lookin’ fer a fight, then they ain’t. It dun ma’er how big yer smile is. If’n they are though…that big’ol grin’ll jus let’em knock out yer teeth!

“Now, I ain’t sayin’ you shouldn’t be all polite n’tha. Mind yer P’s an’ Q’s, surely,” the mare amended, “but it dunnae hurt to bring along a squadron’re two to meetin’s t’let’em know yer not a pushover either.”

“That’s what Father calls a ‘show of force’, right?”

“Exactly!” the older mare beamed, “it’s jus’ fer show. Like a fancy dress to impress th’court,” she added after a brief moment’s reflection, “only it’s made’a chainmail an’ spears!”

Luna grimaced, “that sounds like a very uncomfortable dress.”

The mare chuckled. Then her eyes widened, “Oi! The dress!” she glanced up at the sun and then started to frantically glance around the courtyard before her eyes finally settled on a very dour looking silvery mare who was wearing a jeweled circlet of state upon her head. Maelstrom cringed noticeably, “I seem to’ve let our time go o’erlong, Princess…”

It was now the younger blue filly’s turn to peer at the ground, where she too quickly spotted her royal mother impatiently tapping her hoof. A short ways beyond the waiting Princess Platinum, Luna also spied the seamstress who was supposed to be doing her fitting this afternoon, “oops.”

“Oh, aye, ‘oops’.”