“And… march!” bellowed Captain Critical Strike.
With practiced ease, Drizzle Hoof stomped across the palace courtyard in tight formation of a hundred or so of his peers, in three platoons. Their golden armour glinted in the warm rays of the afternoon sun, and he took comfort in the familiar weight on his frame to steady his nerves. He had a little bit of sweat beneath his coat, but that was still acceptable, considering the warm weather.
We made it through boot camp. No biggie. Just don’t screw up in front of… her.
In spite of himself, he couldn’t resist stealing a glance up at Princess Celestia, who stood observing them all serenely from a balcony with her secretary in her shadow. The Keeper of the Sun and the sole protector of Equestria for a thousand years had deigned to personally inspect her own troops, to find those worthy to stand by her side in defending their loved ones.
And she was also the most beautiful mare in all of Equestria…
His heart pounded at the thought of being so close to her, to be directly under her gaze.
He then mentally shook himself when his wings fidgeted restlessly with the urge to stiffen.
Steady now. No distractions!
Drizzle focused on the hypnotic rhythm of the march and lost himself in it, obeying Captain Strike’s commands with mechanical precision. Stoic determination on his face and unyielding strength in his movement, right up to the instant he heard the command to face the princess and salute. They all did so in perfect synchrony, producing a single, thunderous report of clanging armour and stomping hooves.
Princess Celestia beamed at them, and Drizzle would’ve happily basked in all her glory, if it weren’t for a mild buzzing that grew in volume with each passing second. He tried to focus on the princess as she trotted forward and began her speech, but the buzzing suddenly spiked in volume until it sounded like somepony had stuck an electric shaver into his right ear.
He flicked his ear and suppressed a grin when the offending insect bounced off it and flew off…
Right into the helmet of the stallion by his side.
And it was a hornet.
Oh, hayseed. Oops.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the hornet wobble in the air in front of River Mouth’s muzzle. His pupils shrank considerably, but he remained frozen in perfect form despite his proximity to the black-and-yellow menace. Drizzle detected an almost imperceptible twitch in his wings when the hornet drunkenly spiralled into the ear slit on River’s helmet, producing a tinny buzz as it attempted to navigate the maze of mane inside the metallic prison.
Drizzle remembered the last time somepony had lost composure and broken formation in public. Sergeant Bastion had practically tied poor Halberd in a knot and, well… there was a reason he couldn’t eat or even look at noodles anymore without breaking into a cold sweat.
He could only imagine the consequences of messing up in front of Princess Celestia.
Had it been anypony else, Drizzle believed that he might’ve sniggered in anticipation of the inevitable explosion, but worry for his foalhood friend deflated any possible humour he could’ve found in the situation. He only felt a chill when he saw River clenching his jaw, with tremors visibly going up and down his spine.
Be strong, buddy. We’re almost done…
“—and so it is with great pride that I welcome all of you, the newest members of the Royal Guard!” proclaimed Princess Celestia with a flourish of her wings. “Together, we shall—”
The buzzing ceased.
Drizzle heard a sharp intake of breath, and he could only watch in mute horror as River smacked an armoured hoof into the back of his helmet.
“Argh, buck! Celestia’s flaming tits!”
River shook his head, rattling his crinets as he viciously fanned a wing to clear the air around him. Then, as his shout echoed one last time throughout the courtyard, amplified by the surrounding buildings, the dizzy hornet exited his helmet with an indignant buzz and zipped off into the sky.
Silence reigned.
Drizzle winced internally as he turned his eyes to the balcony.
Princess Celestia’s mouth had frozen half-open in mid-speech, and she’d tilted her head slightly as she stared at River Mouth with wide eyes and shrunken pupils.
Captain Critical Strike, on the other hoof, looked like a thundercloud on the verge of discharging everything it had in a single, deadly barrage. Drizzle could almost see that thick vein throbbing on his neck as he stormed up to the front row and roared, “Private River Mouth, get your sorry flank back in form right now!”
“Sir, yes sir!” River yelped as he snapped to attention.
“Now, you are going to march back to—”
“I believe I can take it from here, captain,” said Princess Celestia, gliding down from the balcony like a majestic swan. She had regained her regal composure, and she gave Captain Strike a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder as she trotted past him and added, “After all, this young gentlecolt did use a very interesting phrase pertaining to my… anatomy in his outburst.”
Like clockwork, a ring of empty flagstones opened up around River when everypony adjacent took a couple of steps to distance themselves from him, as if a meteor might pancake him on the spot at any moment. Drizzle managed to stay put by his side for a couple of seconds longer than everypony else, but in the end, self-preservation thoroughly trounced loyalty and buried it in a shallow grave, so he mouthed a silent word of apology to him before beating a hasty retreat.
“Oh, I am so bucked…” Drizzle heard his friend whimper.
He wouldn’t have believed it was possible for a royal guard to get any whiter, what with their enchanted armour to unify their colours, but River somehow managed it. And it was a rather sickly pallor, too, with visible droplets of sweat.
Princess Celestia sauntered to River with long, easy strides that Drizzle could’ve sworn were deliberately spaced to put a sway in her hips that accentuated the curves of her body. A slightly mischievous smile danced on her muzzle, and her eyes twinkled with youthful vigour and intelligence, with just a tiny hint of a predatory glint.
The rows of guardsponies hastily parted to make way for her, incidentally granting him a view of a few reddening faces. Standard procedure dictated that nopony was supposed to turn around and watch, but there was no way that anypony was going to miss out on this. Even Captain Strike didn’t say a word.
Oh hayseed, no.
He could feel blood rising to his cheeks and ears as Celestia got closer and closer to his row in the middle of the platoon, and he had to concentrate very hard to stop himself from giving her the salute from down under.
And stop thinking about how hard it is!
Eventually, she reached a trembling River Mouth and cocked an eyebrow, still wearing a somewhat playful smile as she towered over him. It reminded Drizzle of a cat that had cornered its prey and was savouring every delicious moment of it.
“My little pony, would you care to elaborate on your outburst?”
To his credit, River didn’t scoot away from her, though Drizzle could see from his flattened ears and tense posture that he very much wanted to. A strangled gurgle came out of his mouth first, followed by a discreet cough and then a gulp before he croaked, “M-my apologies, your Highness! It won’t happen again!”
Princess Celestia chuckled. “Oh, but I didn’t ask for an apology. I asked for an explanation.”
River opened his mouth and closed it again.
The silence stretched.
Drizzle couldn’t help noticing that the princess smelled faintly of lilacs and sugar.
Sweet Celestia, this is not the time!
“Well?”
“A hornet stung me just now, your Highness. And that swearing…” River swallowed and ruffled his feathers as if he had an army of invisible ants crawling on him. “I’ve heard some of the others using it and I guess I must’ve accidentally picked it up in my training. I didn’t mean to, I swear!”
“Is that so? My, my!” Celestia’s smile widened as she swept her gaze around the courtyard. “I wasn’t aware that my tits were objects of cursing!”
Nearly everypony was sweating now, Drizzle included. Half of them shot death glares at River the moment Celestia’s gaze shifted elsewhere.
Rule number one in the Royal Guard: dig your own grave, don’t do it for anypony else. And River had just broken it big time.
Captain Strike galloped up to Princess Celestia’s side and cleared his throat. “Your Highness, I’ll make sure that—”
She held a wing up to silence him and continued gazing at River like a parent generously giving their colt a chance to confess about the empty cookie jar, preferably in excruciating detail. “Just how widespread is this amongst your fellow guards, anyway? And is it localised to Canterlot or something that is commonly used throughout Equestria?”
Oh hayseed, she’s making him dig deeper.
Drizzle almost cringed in sympathy as River wilted before Princess Celestia. His friend’s pinprick pupils darted around, desperately searching for aid that never came.
Was it a test?
Ponies said that the princess did strange things from time to time, and he suddenly got the impression that River wasn’t the only one under her scrutiny. Princess Celestia was the wisest and most well-informed pony in Equestria, so it stood to reason that she knew about how every guard had gotten the concept of ‘Nopony gets left behind’ drilled into them from the very beginning. They were supposed to have each other’s back, no matter what. Friendship and all that.
Drizzle noticed that River was actually trembling.
And you’re being a terrible friend right now.
Flattening his ears, Drizzle took a step forward and saluted. “Your Highness, it’s not just him. Most of us are guilty of swearing like that every now and then, and we’re very sorry about that. I… I think I may’ve been the one to introduce him to that phrase, so please don’t take it out on him. I’ll accept whatever punishment you deem necessary for helping spread this around.”
For a moment, nopony spoke whilst Princess Celestia appraised him with a neutral expression. Drizzle thought he heard a cricket chirping somewhere, even though it was daytime.
Then, Princess Celestia smiled. Her shimmering mane filled his entire world like a sparkling universe, and he found himself unable to look away from her pale magenta eyes, filled with wisdom of the ages and a twinkle of mirth. She looked almost pleased.
Drizzle suddenly realised that time was passing without a word between them, which probably meant that she was expecting more from him. He then also realised that he had the undivided attention of the most powerful and majestic pony in all of Equestria.
Sweet Celestia, she’s looking at me. Directly.
She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever—
No! Bad Drizzle! Not now!
He coughed and swallowed a glob of saliva to wet his parched throat. “Umm, please don’t take this the wrong way, your Highness, but… it’s not like we consider any part of you to be a curse. It’s more of a compliment than anything, really.”
Princess Celestia blinked once, then arched an eyebrow ever so slightly.
An eyebrow which, in that specific configuration on one of the rulers of Equestria, could’ve sent a thousand spears to war.
Drizzle saw River’s jaw drop. Dozens of eyes shrank to pinpricks.
Oh, horse apples.
He stiffened to keep from scratching the back of his neck as he sputtered, “Wh-what I meant to say is that, uh, only the most influential ponies get their names used like that, and even then, it’s not like it can happen to just anypony. You’re hot a—I mean, you’re not a curse, you’re an icon, so it’s practically a testament to your power!”
Behind the princess, Captain Strike facehoofed hard enough to produce a clopping sound, and River glared whilst he mouthed an exasperated “Not helping!” at Drizzle.
Celestia’s eyebrow arched a little higher. “So you’re saying that my tits are powerful?”
“No, they’re hot!”
Nearly every jaw in the courtyard dropped, except for the princess’.
“I mean not. They’re not!” he yelped.
Mouth, meet Hoof, your new occupant for the rest of eternity.
Princess Celestia stared at him for several seconds. Then, she gave him a dainty little grin with half-lidded eyes. Somehow, that was even scarier than that hydra they’d bumped into on patrol, and it only got worse as she prowled around him and River like a hunting lioness, inspecting them from every angle. She even lifted their wings and pursed her lips as she ran a primary feather across their plumage.
By then, Drizzle was certain that he’d gone red as a beet, and prayed that she hadn’t felt his wing throbbing to her touch.
If she’d noticed, she gave no indication of it as she turned to Critical Strike and said, “Captain, might I borrow these two gentlecolts for, say, a week or so? I believe that they are uniquely suited to a task that absolutely must be attended to, and it will save you the trouble of having to deal with them appropriately.”
Captain Strike blinked, then nodded. “Uh, if you wish, your Highness. Of course.”
“Good.” She stood to her full height and beamed at everypony as she trotted up to the front of the platoon. “Well, this has been a most enlightening afternoon, hasn’t it? In light of certain phrases making their rounds in the Royal Guard, I have decided to rectify the situation. Privates Hoof and Mouth, please step forward.”
They obeyed wordlessly, trembling slightly with each step. Their hollow eyes met for a moment, and silent understanding passed between them as they resigned themselves to a fate that was probably going to be worse than death.
When they stopped and bowed before her, she smiled and said, “Drizzle Hoof and River Mouth, you are hereby invited, nay, commanded—”
She paused for dramatic effect, long enough for her to give everypony a passing glance before she returned her gaze to the two of them…
“—to snuggle my flaming tits.”
The tension in the air snapped like a piano string, so hard that Drizzle could’ve sworn it gave him whiplash.
Captain Strike made a choking noise similar to a strangled cat’s.
River’s eyes bugged out.
Princess Celestia, on the other hoof, smiled with the air of a filly who’d just invited her friends to a sleepover and added, “I expect you two in my private wing at sundown, sharp. Speak to Raven; she’ll tell you what to do. Leave your uniforms behind.”
With that, she enclosed herself in a golden sphere of shimmering magic and vanished with a pop, leaving behind only a couple of stray sparkles that soon winked out.
More silence.
“Wh-what the hay was that?” River muttered with glazed eyes.
Slowly, Drizzle turned around.
Nearly everypony had turned crimson and was staring with their mouth agape. He even saw several pairs of erect wings.
“Shining Armour was right,” growled Critical Strike as he shook his head. “Captains don’t get paid enough for this…”
“This is insane,” said River as they trotted through the chilly hallway to eastern wing of the palace. “What in Tartarus did we get ourselves into?”
Drizzle suppressed a shiver and shrugged. “I’m working on a theory. It should be ready in about a thousand years.”
They found Raven, Princess Celestia’s secretary easily enough, who greeted them with a curt nod and silently led them through several more passages and hallways. They passed several pairs of their comrades on evening duty, and received a mixture of looks that ranged from sympathy to barely-restrained glee.
Guess word’s got round already…
Raven eventually led them to a resplendent guest room, told them to wait and left without another word.
Barely a moment later, an orange-coated, middle-aged unicorn stallion entered. He wore a scruffy lab coat that matched his unkempt beard and thinning, greying mane, and a pair of thick glasses sat rather precariously on the bridge of his muzzle.
“Oh, good evening!” he cried jovially as he shook their hooves. “You must be the test subj—ah, I mean volunteers!”
Before either of them could answer, the unicorn ran a critical eye up and down their figures and muttered, “Young, strong, good plumage. Aquamarine coat, chestnut mane and lemon coat, cobalt mane – I can see why Celestia chose you two, oh yes. You’re perfect.”
Drizzle shared a look with River, and then said, “Uh, who’re you?”
“Professor Helix Weave, at your service! Just call me Helix. I’m here to guide you through the process and document our findings.”
“D-document?” River’s face looked like it had trouble deciding whether to turn red or white. “As in, you’ll be watching us?”
Helix grinned and thumped him on the shoulder. “Of course! Princess Celestia is nothing if not thorough about her precious things!”
Drizzle felt an eye twitch.
Discord in a teacup, what universe did I wake up in today?
“Now, hold still while I take your biometrics,” said Helix as he levitated a pen and clipboard out of his lab coat and engulfed them in a faint aura. He scribbled away for half a minute, and then fished out a pair of syringes from his pockets and said, “You’ll need this, too.”
Drizzle winced as the needle sank into his rump. Oddly enough, the injection felt warm rather than the cold he’d expected, so he raised an eyebrow and asked, “And what’s that for?”
“Oh, just a little something to make sure you survive the process. Since you’re pegasi, you can’t conjure a heat shield like I can, and we don’t want either of you dying of heatstroke. That would reflect poorly on all of us.”
Heatstroke?
Drizzle pictured himself crumbling to ash in Princess Celestia’s embrace, and slowly turned to glare at River. “Dude, was that hornet by any chance somepony you’d ticked off in a previous life? Because it’s starting to look like the universe is out to get us.”
“Hey, you’re the one who tried being a hero.” River stuck his tongue out, but the playfulness didn’t quite reach his worried eyes. “It’s much appreciated, but don’t go laying this on me when you’re the one who helped dig us deeper.”
“Lads, lads…” said Helix as he patted their shoulders with quill and clipboard, “There’s no need to worry. I can assure you that it’ll be quite enjoyable and worth all your trouble in the end. Now, chin up and let’s go!”
They followed Helix deeper into the eastern wing, to what looked like a hospital waiting room with thick, oaken doors on both ends reinforced with metal plating and heavy bolts. It had no windows of any sort, and had a single crystalline fixture as its sole source of yellow light. He bade them sit on the heavy benches provided on one side of the room, and then sat on the opposite side, encased in a shimmering globe of magic.
“And now, we wait for the infusion to take effect!” Helix gestured to the newspapers and magazines stacked on a nearby table. “Feel free to amuse yourselves in the meantime. It shouldn’t take too long.”
Drizzle’s heart pounded against his ribcage. He felt like a little colt again, on his first trip to the dentist, unable to sit still with the jitters. Add that to the butterflies in his belly doing flip-flops in anticipation of him snuggling with Princess Celestia, and he had a recipe for rocketing back and forth between arousal and full-blown panic. It probably wasn’t doing any favours for the structural integrity his little member’s plumbing, either.
No. No. You’re a royal guard, now. Act like it!
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, and then forced himself to simply skim through the reading material to pass the time. Anything to stop his imagination from running wild.
River apparently had the same idea.
A minute passed.
Drizzle yawned. He’d noticed that despite having no ventilation of any sort, the room was kind of chilly and awfully conducive to napping. It even seemed to get cooler with each passing moment. Unperturbed, he sniffled and curled up tightly on the bench to preserve his warmth.
The magazine slipped from his hooves.
More minutes ticked by.
He suddenly started to full wakefulness when he realised that his nostrils had congested up; they dripped incessantly, and he couldn’t stop shivering. Off to his side, River had practically curled up into a ball, with a flushed muzzle and puffy bags underneath his bleary eyes.
What the hay?
He turned to Helix and saw him engrossed in a scientific journal of some sort.
“What’s going on?” he croaked as he hugged himself tightly, teeth chattering.
“Yeah, I thought you said we needed protection from heat,” River growled. “Why is this room so – nngh! – it’s freezing in here!”
Helix looked up from his journal and cracked a grin. “Actually, you’ll find that the room is already quite toasty – your senses are just making you think otherwise. Take a look!”
Drizzle followed his pointed hoof to the pile of magazines and newspapers, and he gawked when he saw the pages blistering and curling as if on fire. But there were no flames, and he still felt like he’d caught a cold.
That’s it. I’ve had it with this crazy doctor!
He opened his mouth to yell, but a tickling sensation burrowed through his nostrils and obliterated all coherent thought.
“Aa-aachoo!”
A gout of fire and steam burst from his nostrils, and River started violently with a squawk and sat bolt upright with his wings flared and ready for flight. They both stared at each other for several seconds and sniffled in unison before turning to Helix, who continued grinning at them as he hopped off the bench and began unbolting the inner door.
“Dragon flu is fascinating, isn’t it? That’s what we gave you, by the way – a mostly harmless, non-virulent strain that’s been thoroughly weakened by magic. All the symptoms of the common cold, but with the unique side-effect of making you immune to heat and fire. You could even bathe in lava if you wanted!”
Before Drizzle could finish digesting all of that, the last bolt slid out of its holding, and the door creaked ominously as Helix yanked it open with magic.
River winced as orange light poured in from the chamber beyond. “Hey Drizz, death by snu-snu isn’t really a thing, is it?”
Drizzle gulped. “Looks like we’re about to find out…”
Considering the décor of bare stone, fiery-orange lighting and ashy scent of burning embers in the inner sanctum that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Tartarus itself, Drizzle would’ve expected to find Princess Celestia lounging in there as an infernal alicorn on a bed of obsidian, surrounded by the charred bones and rusting weapons of her enemies. A warning to all those who would oppose Equestria, and a tantalising promise of ultimate fulfilment to those who served her loyally.
Despite the inconvenience of an exotic flu, Drizzle felt his heart pounding and his body flushing with excitement. He trotted forward with wings aflutter, through a cloud of smoke and into the relative warmth of the inner sanctum proper.
And once his eyes had adjusted to the orange light, he saw…
Chicks.
Hot chicks.
Of the avian variety, not mares.
They weren’t griffons, either.
A swarm of hot, fluffy, literally on-fire chicks.
His stiff wings instantly wilted as he froze in place and stared with a loose jaw. He realised he was doing that a lot, lately.
Two dozen or so chicks covered in so much blue and yellow fluff that they resembled fuzzy tennis balls with black, pointy feet, stocky beaks and blue, glowing eyes. Each was roughly the size of a duckling, and they all had tongues of blue flames dancing on their fluffy down. Most of them were hopping and milling around a broad, circular bed of live coals in the middle of the chamber, trilling and peeping at one another.
“Uh…” River had his mouth open in a small ‘o’ and one eyebrow raised as he slowly swept his gaze across the circular chamber. “I don’t get it. Where’s the princess?”
“Okay, that’s it. I give up.” Drizzle sat on his haunches and threw up both forelegs in defeat. “I can’t brain anymore. Would somepony please explain to me what the hay is going on?”
He punctuated that last bit with a fiery sneeze, which drew an unnerving crowd of blue eyes to him.
“Wait, what are you lads talking about?” asked Helix as he entered the chamber, clipboard and quill at the ready. He then frowned at them and continued, “I thought you’d been briefed on what you’re supposed to do.”
“Yeah, we were told to, uh…” Drizzle twirled his hoof vaguely in the air. “Snuggle Princess Celestia’s tits?”
Helix nodded. “A little simplistic, but that’s the gist of it. So why are you acting so surprised?”
“Wait a sec.” River held up a wing and pointed a feather Helix. “You’re not a medical doctor, are you?”
“No, I’m Celestia’s royal ornithologist.”
“Okay…” River nodded and pointed at the swarm of chicks. “And what are those?”
“Ah, they’re the most wonderful result of successful crossbreeding between phoenixes and a blue tits. A new species, if you will. We named them Cyanistes Caelestibus ignis, or Celestial Fire Tit, if you prefer the common name.”
River slumped onto his belly and planted his cheek on the floor, groaning. “Oh buck, we’ve been pranked hard. I’d heard stories, but I didn’t believe it. Celestia is the biggest prankster ever.”
You’ve got to be kidding me…
“Dude, that’s just… oh, wow.” Drizzle covered his face with a hoof and giggled hysterically. “And here I was thinking that I was going to get to snog Princess Celestia. I’m such an idiot…”
Helix seemed rather quick on the uptake. After a hearty chuckle, he telekinetically thumped them on their backs and said, “That’s our Celestia. You’ll get used to it. Now, are you lads ready to proceed with the task at hoof?”
Drizzle blinked. “Wait, we’re actually supposed to follow through with this?”
“Well, yes. The chicks still need someone to roost with.”
“Where’s the mama bird?” asked River.
“Dear Philomena, our princess’ beloved phoenix is entering her death phase this week, and is therefore indisposed to rearing the chicks until she’s reborn. Celestia would’ve taken her place in the meantime, but she’s been called away to deal with a diplomatic crisis, which puts the offspring in a rather precarious position.” Helix gestured at the restless chicks and added, “They get antsy and don’t feed or rest well without a surrogate to roost with, and with Celestia out of the picture, we’re left with you two. They only like feathered surrogates, so I, unfortunately, can only watch.”
Drizzle threw a glance at the cluster of chicks, most of which had already forgotten about him. Two or three were inching closer to him, though. Tilting their heads and peeping as they observed him with inquisitive eyes.
Well, at least they’re kinda cute…
“Hayseed, we’re never going to hear the end of this,” River muttered. “Royal guards playing mama chicken…”
Helix hummed thoughtfully. “Well… if you lads absolutely refuse to help, I suppose we could always look for somepony else. But since you’re already infected with dragon flu, I can’t imagine the outdoors being a very attractive alternative to staying in here…”
So saying, he magically opened the outer door of the waiting room – or airlock, Drizzle realised – and allowed an absolutely bone-biting gust of frigid air to flood into the chamber. Drizzle and River both yelped and leapt away from the door, sniffling and sneezing as they huddled against one another to stave off the deadly cold.
Helix gave them an evil grin and cackled as he shut the door. “Well, that settles it!”
Drizzle snorted. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
He turned to the bed of live coals in the centre of the chamber and took a couple of tentative steps towards it. River followed suit, and the closer they got to the chicks, the more pairs of eyes turned to watch them. The chamber as a whole still felt chilly, but he felt warmer with each successive step, despite his brain silently screaming that he was going to get fried if he stuck his hoof in the coals.
The crowd of chicks parted for them with little complaint, but their peeping and hopping gained volume and enthusiasm as Drizzle and River got closer to the middle of the coals. Even though they had direct contact with flames and embers, their hair and feathers did not ignite.
Horse apples, I’m literally walking on fire.
Upon reaching the centre, he hesitated for a moment.
This is crazy. I should be sizzling by now.
He carefully lowered himself and settled down amongst the burning coals, and then had to suppress a moan of pure bliss as the flames licked his chest and belly. Oddly enough, the knobbly hardness didn’t bother him at all; it still felt better than sinking into a bubbling hot tub in the middle of a blizzard. He could feel air rising up from grating beneath the coals, feeding the flames that warmed his hide. Any tension in his nerves and muscles virtually melted away, and he almost stopped shivering altogether.
River wasn’t quite as discreet. “Oh-ho-ho, that feels good... Bucking Tartarus, this is almost better than se—”
Drizzle elbowed him in the ribs. “Dude, shut it. Remember what started all this!”
A cacophony of cheeps and trills suddenly filled his ears.
“Whoa!”
A veritable swarm of blue-and-yellow tennis balls came hopping and bouncing at them from all angles in a mad rush to squeeze themselves into every nook and cranny, especially underneath their wings. Within half a minute, they were both practically up to their necks in fluffy chicks.
“This is officially the weirdest day of my life,” said River.
Drizzle nudged a couple of chicks away from his muzzle to give himself room to sneeze. “Uh huh…”
This isn't all that bad, actually...
Once they'd huddled together properly, the cacophonous chirping gradually smoothened out into a gentler, soothing melody of peeps and trills. Drizzle soon found himself smiling and humming softly with them, despite the affront to his dignity. With their combined body heat easing off most of his shivers and bone aches, he also felt drowsiness weighing heavily on his eyelids. Blue flames spread from the chicks and onto the coals like spilled ink, until the entire volcanic bed glowed a mesmerising blue, lulling him to sleep.
“Perfect!” He heard Helix scribbling away on his clipboard, and his hoofsteps soon grew fainter, followed by a creak from the door. “I’ll leave you lads to it. See you in the morning!”
Once his hoofsteps were no longer audible, he felt River Mouth shifting a little nearer to close up any gaps where cold air might seep in between them and the chicks.
“By the way, this is completely platonic,” River murmured as he draped a wing over Drizzle’s back. “Don’t read anything into it.”
Drizzle snorted and did the same for his friend. “Affirmative. Only platonic pragmatism, here.”
The chicks then happily invaded the cosy space underneath the twin bridges of their outstretched wings. Drizzle giggled when he felt a couple of them pecking at his ribs, and then absentmindedly petted a rather adventurous chick that valiantly tried to explore the insides of his nostrils.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” River muttered.
“Pot. Kettle. Hi.”
A noncommittal grunt, followed by, “This never happened.”
He nodded weakly. “Never not ever.”
They foalsat the chicks for three days straight.
Fortunately, the dragon flu kept them drowsy for most of the duration, which really helped to pass the time and stave off boredom. By the end of it, Drizzle had a rather hazy recollection of them playing with the chicks in between meals and long snooze-fests, and maybe the occasional lecture from Helix Weave whenever he came to top up the coals and take notes. The thick broth laced with onyx and quartz dust – apparently, dragon flu also enabled them to digest solid minerals – had tasted awfully bland, and it felt weird to drink something that felt more like cement than fluid. The bouts of sneezing, drippy nostrils, occasional headaches and fever chills weren’t all that great, either.
But despite all that, Drizzle had to admit that the playful chicks made up for the experience. Three or four of them had grown rather attached to him, and it almost physically hurt to hear them chirping and calling for him when Helix had come to let them out of the incubation chamber for good.
They’d spent a couple more hours in the airlock after Helix and a surly bat pony medic had administered the cure for dragon flu. And once their temperatures had dropped to non-lethal, equine levels, they were unceremoniously marched off to the infirmary for rest and further observation.
Drizzle appreciated the extra time for recovery; even though he no longer felt like he’d been shaved naked and stuffed into a snowdrift, the flu had left him more than a little woozy and dreading the thought of immediately going back on active duty.
An indeterminate number of hours passed with just the two of them in a sterile quarantine room, tossing and turning in bed as they drifted in and out of sleep.
At some point, though, Drizzle saw a white alicorn sitting between their beds, and the realisation was sufficient to drag him fully back into the waking world.
“Princess Celestia!” he cried.
“Oh Tartarus, she’s back,” River muttered under his breath, before his brain apparently caught up and made him fumble with a salute. “Your Highness!”
“Be at ease, my little ponies.” Princess Celestia waved off their attempts at formality and beamed. “Professor Helix tells me that you were both fine surrogate fathers, and that Philomena’s chicks are doing very well. How did you find the experience?”
Drizzle blinked a couple of times as he silently calculated the odds of it being another test, then schooled his face into a neutral expression. “It was very… educational, your Highness.”
River coughed politely and nodded. “Yep. We’ve learnt our lessons. We won’t mess up like that again.”
She chuckled and leaned closer, and Drizzle was suddenly very glad that the flu had temporarily murdered his capacity for arousal when he caught a whiff of her mildly floral scent.
“My little ponies, please don’t think that the entire thing was meant purely as punishment for your mistakes. It was an opportunity for all of us to learn a few things, academic and otherwise, and considering the circumstances, I was tempted to try solving several problems all at once. Rest assured that I will take pains to have you fairly and adequately prepared if I ever require your services in a similar fashion again.”
Her horn glowed, and two envelopes popped into the air before them.
Drizzle accepted the one offered to him, and after she’d given him an encouraging smile and nod, he opened it and found a photograph of himself, River Mouth and twenty-plus chicks all curled up and tucked together on a bed of blue coals, snoozing peacefully.
Oh, wow.
He looked up to Princess Celestia and grinned. “Thanks, your Highness!”
“I thought you might appreciate a souvenir. I’ve also authorised the transfer of your hazard pay; you should find it in your respective accounts by tomorrow.”
Drizzle blinked. “Hazard pay?”
“Believe it or not, cuddling a brood of self-immolating birds that are normally hot enough to give you third-degree burns isn’t exactly safe,” she replied with a smile. “However, you are most welcome to visit again once they’ve learnt to regulate their inner fire.”
“Oh, right.”
“Say, are we allowed to show these around?” River piped up, waving his copy of the photograph.
She raised an eyebrow. “Showing my tits to the world? Oh my.”
Drizzle and River turned crimson and began stammering, but she swiftly cut them off with a giggle and playfully waved a hoof at them. “Oh, you are all far too easy to tease. Of course you may do as you please with those pictures. Far be it from me to keep such adorable things hidden in the dark.”
“Are you sure?”
When a slight frown creased her brow, Drizzle hastily threw up his hooves in surrender and added, “I mean, absolutely everypony is going to be grilling us for details once we get out of here. We just want to be absolutely certain that you’ve given us clearance to talk about it.”
She flicked her gaze back and forth between them for a moment or two before the corners of her mouth curled upward ever so slightly. Drizzle could’ve sworn he saw her eyes twinkle as she nodded gravely and said, “Tell no lies, and I shall have no objections.”
Drizzle frowned as he tried to parse her deceptively short response, but before he could formulate an appropriate response, Princess Celestia then leaned in, gave them each a quick peck on the cheek and whispered, “Consider this an additional reward for being such good sports about the whole thing.”
Oh, hayseed!
Drizzle felt both of his wings flare. So did River’s. And he also had a sudden, extreme appreciation for the presence of the heavy blanket.
Whilst they both gaped at Princess Celestia, fishing for words without success, she rose to all fours and trotted out of the room. “Rest well, my little ponies!”
Is she…? No. Maybe?
Drizzle looked at River and got a helpless shrug in response.
Princess Celestia, master of mixed signals.
After her departure, it didn’t take long for the prophesied mob to arrive. Within fifteen minutes, five off-duty guards came knocking at the door, and Drizzle recognised all of them from their unit. They were Upper Cut, Ice Bolt and the captain’s triplet nephews, Dodge, Block and Parry Strike.
They’d hardly spent a minute getting the assortment of hellos and well-wishes out of the way before the real questions started pouring in: “So… what happened?” “Did she seriously land you guys in the hospital?” “That must’ve been some brutal cuddling, eh?” “Does that mean you guys aren’t single anymore?” and “The princess has a secret harem, doesn’t she?”
Drizzle shared a look with River, and after a couple of seconds, they came to a silent agreement.
“Tell no lies, and I shall have no objections,” she’d said.
Buck it, we’ve come this far. Might as well milk it for all it’s worth.
They both grinned like wolves, and Drizzle mimed fanning himself with a hoof as he whistled and huffed, “Seriously, guys… Princess Celestia has the fluffiest, cuddliest, hottest tits in Equestria.”
Author's Note
Writing comedy is hard. Writing comedy on purpose is even harder. 
I threw away an 8,000-word draft for a different prompt in exchange for this because the old one wasn't funny. That was two days ago. Kill me. 
Dragon flu concept was ~~stolen from~~ inspired by Melt.
