Canterlot Palace, Canterlot
5:00 PM
Dusk

When Mom had said that she knew somepony, I assumed that we’d sneak off the airship once we reached Canterlot, but instead we were told to teleport straight to a private suite in the palace, thanks to the guidance crystals that were handed out. But an hour into cooling our heels in the suite, and nothing. No letter, nopony sticking their heads into the room, not even smoke signals.

“This is such a waste of time.” Dawn groaned. “Who the hell cares if we look like crap right now? We’ve got the Imperium dead to rights. Let’s give out the info, get our allies engaged and kick the Griffons out!”

“You really sound like your father, you know that?” Dart observed.

“How so?”

I chuckled, thinking back to the few times I had been involved in events involving royalty and nobility. “Because I can’t stand formality for the same reason you’re annoyed. It feels like a waste of time. Unfortunately, I doubt we’ll be able to get face to face time with any world leader until tomorrow morning. They’ll have to physically be here for us to talk.”

While this brief exchange had gone on, the previous few hours being used to just talk to Dawn and try to get to know the pony that my daughter had become, my father had stayed back and just let us talk. By the time we reached the suite, he apparently decided that he was bored, found a comfy chair, claimed it, and sat down with an old history book. “I thought so…” We all heard my father mutter.

“What is it Meteor?” Dart asked, taking notice of the book on post-Nightmare Moon history.

“I remembered reading this after that mission to capture De Witt all those years ago.” He explained as he closed the book. “After Nightmare Moon was locked away, the following two centuries were interspersed with a number of border conflicts, the endings of which led to the development of the earliest iterations of our current treaty system. Border conflicts were the rule, but the Griffons to the south were the exception. To call them brutal understates it.”

“But how does that lead to now? You’re talking about almost a millennium of change.” I pointed out.

“Because of this painting.” My father said, turning the book over and pointing to the painting of a Griffon ruler on the rear cover. “See that necklace? What does that look like to you?”

I looked at the necklace, but couldn’t place it. “It’s a Sombric rune.” Dawn said once she looked at the painting. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

Gramps smirked. “De Witt was wearing a necklace that looked a hell of a lot like this one in the painting. If that necklace is a rune like Dawn says, maybe that explains the extreme aggression that was seen then and now?”

“Add in a family heritage centuries long, and exposure to the dark magic that thing radiates and you’ve got minds twisted beyond help.” Dawn added grimly. “But that assumes a connection to Sombra at some point before Nightmare Moon. And there’s no historical record to support such a connection.”

Dad’s expression turn to that which said ‘really?’ as he stared at Dawn. “Then how’s a piece of Sombric jewelry get into the hands of a Griffon thousands of miles away in a period where long distance travel like what would be required was entirely unheard of?”

“Alright, I’ll give you that…” Dawn admitted.

Before we could go further down the supposition rabbit hole, there was a knock at the door, and Princess Twilight walked in with a marshmallow colored unicorn on her heel. “Sorry to keep you all waiting. Unfortunately getting Rarity into the castle was far trickier than I anticipated.”

“Let me guess, wall of press and paparazzi hoping to get a look?” I asked.

The Princess nodded. “That about sums it up.”

“Thank you Twilight, I’ll take it from here.” The mare said as she stepped forward. “You know Dusk, I never pegged you or your father as the royal type.”

I couldn’t help but cock an eyebrow. “Wait, we’ve met?”

“Just once, when you had you all had your wedding attire made.” Rarity said as she flipped through a notepad she was holding. “I know that was five years ago, but I keep all of my custom work files in case I need to make alterations or repairs to garments I make.”

“Oh, that was your shop!” I said, remembering the small shop in the fashion district.

“Indeed it is.” Rarity said with a smile. “It’s also where I do a lot of my charity work out of.”

Now while I didn’t think anything of that last comment, Dart obviously did. “Wait, charity work? Like what, financial support to families dealing with tragedy?”

OK, that was specific, and I knew where Dart was coming from. After the whole ordeal with Winterfell, somepony had set up a support fund for us. Two weeks after getting out of the hospital, that fund made one hell of a deposit in our bank accounts. Suffice to say needing to find employment wasn’t going to be a concern for at least another five years with the money that was given to us. “Don’t tell me, you had a hand in the support fund, didn’t you?”

Rarity just kept smiling. “Darling I managed the fund. Frankly, it wasn’t difficult to get the nobility to pitch in. Most of them did it because I had asked if they could donate.”

“You do realize just how much money that was, right?” Dart asked.

Rarity nodded as she ran down her notepad and took quick measurements with a magically suspended tape measure on my wife. “I do.”

“That paid for our house!” Dart exclaimed. “And it paid for my psychiatric license. Dusk, how many bits are left in the account?”

“Uh…” I must’ve looked like a deer in the headlights. “I think somewhere north of three million bits right now? Honestly even with you getting the license and building the house, we still haven’t put much of a dent into it. Most of what we spend is the monthly military pension, which basically covers the day to day bills.”

“Thank you dear.” Dart said before turning her attention back to the fashionista. “Look, I’m not going to complain. But I’ve got to ask why us? You don’t really know us at all.”

“Because it was kind.” Rarity replied without missing a beat. “I get it, money wasn’t going to fix anything. But it would at least mean you two could keep a roof over your heads and take time to heal. Loosing a foal before being able to hold onto it, especially through no fault of your own? I don’t even want to think about how much pain that put you through.”

If I didn’t know any better I’d say Dart wanted to cry. But she didn’t, as much as it seemed she’d break into tears at any second. “Nopony told me that that the element bearers could be saints.” She finally managed to choke out.

Then Rarity did something unexpected. She gave Dart a hug. “It’s just who I am dear.” As she let go she turned her attention to Dawn. “But not everypony can get a second chance like your family has been given.”

“Not to sound callused, but it doesn’t feel quite like that.” Dawn said. “I got screwed out of knowing my family for the last twenty years. And they didn’t know I was alive. It’s more like… Meeting that long lost relative for the first time.”

“So, let me ask you then. For you it’s been twenty years, but for your parents it’s been what, four?” Rarity observed. “Twilight did say there was some other Alicorn involved, but how exactly does that work?”

“Pocket dimension.” Dawn said with a shrug. “Flow of time inside it is faster than outside of it. Faust seemed to think that it was a benefit to my training.”

“OK, just to clear it with everypony-” Dart said, drawing attention to herself. “-if Faust ever shows up, I get first crack and knocking her lights out.”

“Fine by me!” my dad shouted. “And I’ll just sit back and wait until the line clears up so I can have some angry words with her. Although that’ll still end with me getting flattened along with the rest of you.” Dart didn’t bother continuing the subject. It was evident that my father was going to try and kill the idea if she kept going.

“Alright, so at this point the only pony here I need full measurements on is Dawn…” Rarity said as she flipped to a clean piece of paper on her notepad. “Now dear, can I ask where you got that?” She said, pointing out Dawn’s dirty armor.

“Faust, like everything else on me right now. She said it was traditional scout’s armor.” Dawn explained. “Why do you ask?”

“Because the styling has me thinking dear…” Rarity said as her speech wandered off as she glanced at something on the notepad. “Wait, I stand corrected. Constellation’s medical scan has all of your measurements. I can get them from her easily enough.”

I couldn’t help but cock an eyebrow. “Wait, that’s it?”

Rarity nodded. “I’ve got a long night ahead of me to get these done, so yes. Only one question though…” She pulled out a black piece of fabric, pulled it taunt and held it well away from anypony in her magical grip. “Try shooting this.”

“Wait, what?!”

“OK, sure.” I heard my father say from behind me.

BANG!

I couldn’t help but put my hands to my ears on reflex. “Ow!” I exclaimed over the ringing in my right ear.

“Excellent, works like a charm!”

I finally took notice of the fabric. There wasn’t a scratch on it. Looking down I saw the bullet on the ground, balled out from the tip in a mushroom shape. “What the hell?”

“Ballistic fabric.” Rarity explained as she tucked the sample away into one of her back pockets. “Rated to take gunfire and not allow a penetration. Top rating is a fifteen millimeter automatic cannon shell. Of course you’ll certainly feel the hit as we can’t do anything about physics. All of your clothing is going to have a layer of this as the base.”

“So who’s idea was this?” Dart asked

“Hello!” All eyes turned to my father. “I might have had the colts in R&D give Rarity whatever they had for working ballistic fabric. Kind of easier to make that request when they know who you’re married to.”

“Are you expecting trouble?” Dawn asked.

My father just shrugged. “We’re in unknown territory right now. If anything, I’d rather play it safe bordering paranoia.”

“So… What now then?” I asked.

“Simple.” My father said as he rose from the chair. “We get some sleep. I doubt that tomorrow will be any easier than today, so we’ll need it.”

Author's Note

And here we go, another chapter in Old Wounds, with some nuggets on the immediate aftermath of the incident with Winterfell. Suffice to say I do want to explore that time more at some point, but I need to figure out how to write it. But the aftermath saw Dart and Dusk retire from the Guard, and Dart got lined up as a professional psychiatrist. Her own pain led her to want to try to help others who had gone through mental trauma like hers.

We also get a nugget on the forces that led to De Witt, and by extension Caprice, becoming they way they are. Dark magic, even if in trace amounts, can be a really screwed up thing.

And as for that ballistic fabric? Yeah, got the idea from the gun shopping scene from the second John Wick film. Eventually it'll come in handy.