The Trifling Affair that Happened on a Thursday that while Undignified and Disappointing in its Outcome was at least Not Boring - or - The Great Breezie Declaration of War.
THE great hall was set in a grassy hillock and was like a foal’s fable and fantasy doll house on the inside. It was spacious enough to comfortably seat Fluttershy provided she didn’t try to fly and paid mind to the feasting tables around her ankles. It could snugly enough take Princess Luna provided she kept everything of hers folded and minded, in addition to tables and ankles, not poking the ceiling with her horn. The hall could just about squeeze in the two together provided some casual touching wasn’t a big deal between them (it wasn’t, good friends that they were) and could be forced to by sheer bloody minded stubborn determination fit several hundred breezies: the breezie throne, the breezie court, the breezie royalty (to keep the throne warm) their sworn-in guards that flitted about (looking very prim and proper, with gleaming scowls to show off), the nobility and their sworn-in guards (putting in a good show also, scowls and flitting), the hangers-on breezies and their guards (bargain scowls, one and all) all in addition to Fluttershy the translator and Princess Luna the diplomat provided some implicitly — possibly illegally — friendly touching was involved between the two.
All this meant that Princess Luna was:
A long, long ways from home, sitting in a hole in the ground, while folded up on herself like a book bent backwards against its spine. Just as unnatural, just as uncomfortable. At the same time she was trying not to hoof-break nor butt-break any more feasting tables, nor relics or treasures, nor gouge out another priceless expanse of delicate mural ceiling accidentally, while breezies bumped against her. Accidentally on purpose, the little monsters. Not to mention how she was seating Fluttershy in her lap to an extent where, in no uncertain terms, intended or no, they were now incontestably very good friends.
All while resolutely keeping a dignified expression on her face as she stared into the tiny beady face of the breezie with the largest tiny hat, which made him their king or something.
Actually, the Fluttershy part was none too bad. The buttery pegasus was plush and squeezable. Fluttershy’s ears were up and her wings were trying to stiffen, a fact Luna knew intimately because they had nowhere to go and so strained against her chest vainly. Luna had a feeling they were going to have to have a quiet talk after all this sorry breezie business.
In fact, Fluttershy was talking already. Translating had been Luna’s reason for bringing her, as it stood.
“...insufferable, ingracious. An offence against all hospitality, against civility, against civilization itself. Um....” Fluttershy turned to face up, putting her big sad eyes just under Luna’s nose. “Um.”
With a very slight and awkward shuffling, Luna was able to angle herself with only a minimum of further damage done or wings stiffened. The little king was still squeaking in their silly breezie way. “Fluttershy, that sounds less than good.”
“I’m sorry,” Fluttershy squeaked in altogether different manner.
“You are blameless. Just focus. What says he now?”
“Oh, I really am sorry, Luna. He says that their armies will darken the skies of Equestria, they’ll lay such devastation upon us ponies as our language doesn’t have words to detail the absolute breadth of, that they’ll annex our kingdoms, make the farmlands infertile with the salt of our tears...” She crooned something and the king’s tirade only continued.
“Oh, princess!” swooned Fluttershy.
Luna cocked an eyebrow. “What did you say?”
“I suggested maybe he would feel better after a teeny tiny little nap, but I don’t think he liked that.”
Luna sighed. “No, I expect he did not.” The breezie spears were not toothpicks; though they did utilize those in some of their heavier siege weapons, being otherwise much too heavy for the individual breezie to carry. Though some of the heavy assault shock troopers Luna had spied earlier, and now flitted into the much-overfull great hall used armour going in so heavy as flower petals, folded like origami.
Fluttershy terror-squeaked. “Look out!”
“There really is no chance for peace?” Fluttershy stammered the plea through translation, but the king flitted there, his unwavering, unmerciful composure not softening.
“Oh fine.” Luna rolled her eyes. “War it is.”
She leaned forwards and blew. Breezies scattered in tumble and panic; the guards flitting heroically to the king’s aid resolutely shielding him for all their little bodies’ worth before being blown away.
Breezies bounced against the walls. Guards fitted with purpose, these Luna met with purposeful little puffs so that they cried out, carried away by prevailing winds. Panic spread like wildfire through the great hall, but it could be even more likened to dandelion seeds spreading on a summer’s day, or soap bubbles from those little hooped sticks and dipping pots foals love so much and grown ponies only forgot to love.
Puff the magic pony did, and occasionally flicking a wing also, sending more legions tumbling over one another.
A breezie managed so much as to delicately brush against Fluttershy’s fluffy back and it scrambled to take hold. She withered from its touch and shook in a panic. “Oh, the violence!”
Luna narrowed her eyes. Carefully, with her hoof, she pried the little creature away — much to its war-crying chagrin — and shook it away. Tried to. Shook a little harder, until she finally dislodged the colourful little trooper of its grip and sent it on its way, tumbling into the mess of the tangled and frustrated fallen. “Yeah, we’re done here.”
Stealing a last antagonistic glance at the king — Luna made a face and stuck out her tongue — she gripped her trembling companion tighter and teleported away.
Twenty minutes later on a different hillside, Fluttershy was through the worst of her shock and had even quit hyperventilating. “That went poorly,” Luna volunteered.
She sighed as Fluttershy throttled her leg and got tears on it. “It was dreadful! Whatever are we to do if they come for us?”
Luna considered. “Close our windows,” she said decisively. “Fans, maybe. The little portable ones, yes.”
Fluttershy only whimpered. “How dreadful.”
Luna stifled as much of her weary chuckle as she could, putting a wing over the little pony whereby to lead her. “Come on, Fluttershy. I will take you home, and put all this to bed.”
“What about the war?” she asked.
“That silly thing?” Luna fixed her companion a friendly smile. ”It’ll blow over.”
