A Canterlot Unicorn in Princess Platinum's Court

by FluorescentRed

Rating: teen
Tags: Alternate Universe, Comedy, Adventure, Tragedy
Length: 2074

Twilight finds herself in the distant past, a guest in the court of the literally legendary Princess Platinum.

Twilight finds herself in the distant past, a guest in the court of the literally legendary Princess Platinum. Trapped in an uncivilized civilization with no way home, no friends, and worst of all, no Princess Celestia, it'll take all her wits to get out in one piece.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2017-04-12 00:59:49 UTC

Hartford

A CANTERLOT UNICORN IN PRINCESS PLATINUM'S COURT

ACT 1: THE PAST IS A FOREIGN COUNTRY

CHAPTER 1: HARTFORD

Twilight Sparkle woke up in a tree. This posed more than one concern.

She didn't recall going to sleep in a tree. For that matter, she didn't remember going to sleep at all. In fact, everything after her arrival in Ponyville that afternoon was hazy, and anything that might've occurred after Princess Celestia's non-appearance at the Summer Sun Celebration a complete blank.

None of that boded well. Twilight was a Canterlotian - from the foothills, anyway, just over the river. Being that, she was possessed of the Canterlotian notion of how things ought to be, that being clean, orderly, efficient, and, above all else, in accordance with the will of Her Radiance Highness Celestia, Princess of Equestria, Duchess of Canterlot, Protector of the Badlands, and Marchioness of the Sun and Moon. And, being a Canterlotian, she took any violation thereof as a personal affront to her character, for allowing such a thing to take place in her presence.

For it was without doubt that something important had happened, involving the Elements of Harmony, the Mare in the Moon, and quite possibly eternal night. Furthermore, it was beyond question that anything important eventually made its way to Canterlot.

And so she knew, in general terms, what she needed to do, that being to get to Canterlot post-haste, turn over everything she knew to the relevant authorities, and from there do her utmost to restore things to their natural order, whatever that entailed.

As was her custom, Twilight took stock of her situation, arranging each problem presented her in the order in which she would resolve it. Lacking paper or ink, she was forced to do this mentally, depriving her of the satisfaction of physically checking items off the list as she went; she added this to her list as well.

In the mean time, she would make do by speaking aloud to herself.

"Item one," she said, "remove self from tree." As she spoke, she did just that, putting a rear hoof on a suitable-looking knot in the bark and transferring as much weight as she dared. This proved too much, and she slipped, landing her in a heap on the grass, but she righted herself in short order.

"Check. Item two, arrange transportation to Canterlot."

That looked to be more trouble than the last. She guessed it was probably mid-morning from the position of the sun (which ruled out eternal night for the time being). From her vantage point in the tree, about two meters off the ground, she'd been able to make out a whole lot of trackless wilderness and precious little else. She found herself wondering how in Equestria she'd gotten out so far from civilization, but with no evidence forthcoming she tabled that thought for a moment. She could make out mountains to the north, but that didn't help overmuch. The mountain range that included the Canterhorn ran west-east along most of the continent, curving up towards the coasts to enclose the Carthusian Basin.

A few trails of smoke were visible in the sky, probably from chimneys, and their source within walking distance even for a generally sedentary pony like Twilight. That could've been Ponyville, but she couldn't quite work out how that fit, geographically.

She supposed she'd find out when she got there.

The forest was trackless, if not particularly dense, and she frequently found herself detouring around obstacles and having to re-orient herself. By the time she spotted the first building, she was hoofsore and not a bit fed up with walking.

It was a wattle and daub hut showing signs of neglect, with a thatched roof and a crooked chimney jutting out the side like a unicorn's horn. A fence enclosed a patch of mixed cabbage, carrots, and onions off to the side, but a gaping hole in the side dispelled any notions of keeping wild animals away. In size it rivalled the meanest apartments in the most crowded districts of Canterlot. Twilight couldn't recall ever seeing such a miserable house, but she supposed-

Well, she wasn't sure what she supposed. She didn't think there was a polite way to so much as think about the thing, and so she didn't.

She knocked.

"Who's there?" shouted a voice, hoarse and raspy.

"Um, my name is Twilight Sparkle," Twilight shouted back. "I'm lost, and I need to get to Canterlot as soon as possible." She paused. "Do you think you could come to the door so we don't have to shout?"

There was a sound of hoofsteps, and a moment later the door opened, revealing an ancient, toothless crone of an earth pony, with a crooked face and a shepherd's crook cutie mark. "What're you doing here?" she said.

"I'm lost. I'm trying to get to Canterlot-"

"I'd bet you are," the crone cut in. "Well if you're lost, you shouldn't have come out here to begin with, should you?"

Twilight bristled. "Well, that's hardly fair."

"What's fair to a unicorn? Go bother someone else, wretched little witch."

"Excuse me?" Twilight said, only to be cut off mid-use when the door was slammed in her face.

She was tempted to stay and chastise the mare for her rudeness, but the call of Canterlot dissuaded her, and she decided to see if the town had a town hall. The mayor would certainly have maps, and once she got on a real road she'd make much better time.

Gradually, the buildings got closer together, and signs of agriculture got marginally less ramshackle. Rows of fruit trees, marked rectangular allotments showing evidence of crop rotation, and even some rudimentary irrigation systems came into view. None of it looked particularly professional, and Twilight would never have eaten any of the anemic-looking produce, but she supposed this far out there were no agricultural wizards or agronomists to call on. The weather, on the other hand, was unconscionable; namely, there wasn't any. She was no weather expert (at least, no moreso than she was an expert in everything, which, in a sense, she was) but in the middle of summer, light cloud cover was crucial to keep the soil from drying out, and from the looks of the soil there hadn't been a decent rain in weeks. Whoever was running the local weather office was either terminally understaffed or terminally slacking. If she didn't know any better, Twilight would think there wasn't any weather office at all.

The looks she got were a strangeness all their own. Every pony she passed stopped to stare like she'd grown a second head. She supposed a town this isolated didn't get many visitors, but even that didn't account for the confusion on their faces, or the hushed words they exchanged.

Making a full circuit of the town - more of a village, from the looks of it - Twilight confirmed the lack of a town hall, to her chagrin. There was a large-ish structure in the centre of town, but when she peeked inside she only found barrels of grain and preserves. She asked a few passersby if there was a mayor she could speak to, but most ran off without a word, none gave her a straight answer, and only a few even met her eye. She was on the verge of looking for a commercial building, which would be legally obligated to serve her, or even giving up entirely, when she spotted a crowd of ponies all making a beeline for her.

Now, Twilight was none too fond of crowds as a matter of personal preference, but the town was frankly giving her the creeps and she was eagar to talk with some normal ponies, which the Law of Large Numbers indicated the crowd would necessarily be dominated by, so she set out on her own and met them in the middle, which by coincidence happened to be in front of the barn she'd explored earlier.

The crowd walked in silence, headed by a white-coated mare with a frizzy blue mane and a sickle cutie mark. None of them offered a greeting, so she murmured an awkward "Hello, my name is Twilight" and offered her hoof.

Slowly, without taking her eyes off Twilight, the mare inclined her head. "State yer business," she said curtly, if it was possible to drawl curtly.

"I'm looking for the mayor."

"You found 'er."

"Oh, good," Twilight said, hoof still extended expectantly. Was the mayor shy? She could sympathize with that. Maybe it was a town of shy ponies. That sounded plausible. In that case, she would just have to guide the conversation. "What's your name?"

"State yer business, unicorn."

Twilight felt her smile flagging, and maintained it by force of will. "In polite company, an exchange of names and a hearty hoofshake sets the right tone for a productive conversation," she said. That was one of her father's favourite sayings, and like all of his favourite sayings it was a bit of a mouthful, but she'd memorized it diligently anyway.

"Sickle," said the mayor, making no move to shake.

Twilight lowered her hoof. "Anyway, I'm looking for Canterlot."

"Won't find it here."

"I'm aware. Could you point me in the direction of the nearest town with a train station, or where I could hire a pegasus carriage? I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"Won't find any pegasi here," Sickle said, and spat. "Dunno about the other thing. Where's the rest of ya?"

"The rest of whom?"

"You. Unicorns. You travel in groups. Where's yours?"

"Groups? No, I'm here alone. Where is here, anyway?"

"Town's called Hartford. If yer alone, who knows yer here?"

"Nopony, so I'm in a bit of a pickle. I really need to find a train station. Do you know where I could find a bigger settlement, or even just the main road? All I've been able to find are dirt paths."

"So yer out here alone, and ye think ye'll just swing into an earth pony town like ya own the place? Mighty brave, unicorn."

"Earth pony town?" Twilight frowned. "That's a bit old-fashioned of you."

"Old-fashioned, hm? So you reckon this all belongs to the unicorns now, hm?"

"Ma'am, I don't know why you're trying to pick a fight with me, but I'm just trying to get home. The Mare in the Moon has returned, and I'm afraid that the Princess might be in terrible danger."

"Well, that's mighty terrible for her," Sickle said, not sounding remotely concerned. "But I'm thinkin' you ought to be more concerned for yer own self."

"Oh, I'm just fine, thanks, or I will be as soon as I find a train station. At least, as fine as the rest of Equestria. Which might not be fine at all, if the Princess is deposed and we're plunged into eternal night, so you understand why I need to get moving."

"Mhm. See, as I see it, yer out here on your lonesome, nopony knows where you are, no soldiers to protect you, ye might just not make it back home at all. See, last winter was a bad one, 'specially in the sense that all winters are bad ones. so I'm thinking if there were one fewer unicorn up on that mountain eatin' our food, there'd be a bit more to go around over here. So yeah, I'd be more worried about yerself, if'n I were in yer place."

"Now that's just economic nonsense-" Twilight started, only to be interrupted by a hoof to the chest. A second one followed, and reflexively she caught it in a telekinetic grip. She only intended to use the minimum amount of force, and had an offended chastisement on her lips, but the spell jumped free of her control like it was possessed, and to her horror it overcharged itself and sent Sickle flying head over fetlocks into the mob.

"I'm so sorry-" Twilight began, but Sickle was back on her feet and she didn't think she'd have time to finish her apology. Not liking her odds at outrunning the farmpony, she turned tail and teleported.

She'd only intended to go a few meters, but again the spell tore itself free. With a bang like a thunderclap, she emerged well above the treetops going fifty kilometres an hour. She had only a few seconds to regret never learning to fly before she hit dirt.