"Please, darling? Just try something," Rarity complained. "You would look utterly dashing!"

It's been a few weeks since I had reluctantly accepted the invitation to the Gala and since then I have had Rarity on my back about wearing much more formal attire than what I had planned to wear. Even the others had made various attempts to entice me into a suit of some variety, all of which have yet to be successful. And today, on the day the Gala was to take place, was the fashionista's latest attempt.

"No, I am not going to be fancy," I said flatly, readjusting the bandana around Orion's neck. "I wasn't given many options, all things considered."

"Be that as it may," She replied. "You should at least try to look presentable."

"No," I said again, this time more firmly, faintly shaking my head. "My decision is final."

Rarity sighed, finally giving in to the fact I wouldn't give any ground on the matter. She suddenly stood and my hand twitched to my pistol as I stood quickly but I was able to force myself to stop. I diligently watched her as she moved around her workshop with her usual elegance and refinement. She eventually reached a chest of some sort and reached deep inside, her face lighting up as she seemingly found what she was looking for.

She stood once more and moved towards me but slowed when she met my gaze. Once she was within a metre of me, she reached up to my scarf and pinned something to it as I dared not move an inch. As she stepped back, I took the object in my hand and tilted it so I could get a better look. It looked to be a brooch. It resembled a flower, expertly cut deep blue crystals sat firmly on a finely crafted light metal frame, elegantly flowing to create a very natural design.

My eyes shifted to the alabaster mare in front of me as she wore a wide smile, possibly sensing my respect and admiration for such an excellent piece. I moved to remove it but was very quickly stopped by a pair of soft but strong hands as Rarity slowly lowered my own, with not a word uttered.

"I cannot accept such a piece," I said as Orion stepped back to get a better look at the piece.

"You can and you will," She replied, her smile growing wider.

Stepping back once more, she gained an analytical eye, looking me up and down, her smile never once wavering. She indicated for me to spin, twirling her hand with a single finger raised. Giving out a single exhale of a chuckle, I did as I was asked and spun, spreading my arms slightly as I did. I came to a stop after a spin or two and waited for the fashionista's verdict.

"Splendid!" She said after a moment, Orion nodding in agreement. "It may not be what I was imagining, but it is better than nothing."

"And correct me if I'm wrong, please," She continued. "Colour has an important meaning in Mandalorian culture, yes?"

"Indeed," I responded.

"And, if I may, What is blue's meaning?"

"Reliability."

"Wonderful!" She exclaimed, her smile somehow getting wider. "A fitting colour for a reliable man such as yourself."

I shook my head with another chuckle when I was spun around suddenly and scooted towards the front door, Rarity's surprising strength once again shining strong as she pushed me around with apparent ease despite my far heavier build with Orion, of course, happily plodding along.

"I'm sorry darling, it may be early but I still have a few things to do," She said as I made it over the building's threshold. "Have a wonderful day my dear."

Swiftly closing the door behind me, I was left standing there in a daze, partially unsure of what happened. Giving myself a shake, I knock myself out of my confusion and glance down at my companion, who simply shrugs, before I look skyward towards the sun. It appeared to be roughly 20 degrees due east, telling me it was nearing eleven a.m. Still had a lot of time to kill. Looking around, I decided to go for a long walk and picked a random direction to go, tightening my coat to protect myself from the cold morning air. I give my thigh a single open-palmed tap and Orion is quickly by my side.

As I went, I was cheerfully greeted by Ponyville's menagerie of residents, the general hubbub drowning the irregular sound of my footsteps, instigated by my light limp. Though my mind was alert, it was on other matters and it was that of the coming Gala. Though I had steeled myself that it was going to be a long night, I knew it wouldn't make much of a difference as the Nobility had a certain way of wearing down even the most patient of men and women. They all somehow know just which buttons to press.

Coming to a stop, I realised I was now walking along the woodland path of town that ran along just outside the Everfree that sat a safe distance away. Spying a nearby bench, I ease myself down and look over the large town as I think back to years gone by. A sad smile breaks over my face, remembering the times we had, remembering the good and bad and remembering their voices. Remembering her laugh.

I lean back into the bench slightly and I take in a deep inhale, letting it out through my nose. I close my eyes as I reminisce, thinking about my time on Terra, thinking about the years I spent alone. I thought about the life I could have had, about where I would be had things turned out differently. I find myself doing it more often as of late, especially now that I have grown older. I am unsure of what brought it on, but I haven't bothered to find out. It's doing me no harm.

As I stare out towards the early morning scenery, Orion jumps up onto the bench and places his head on my thigh. Nudging my hand, he easily persuades me and I lightly rub in between his ears, eliciting a happy sigh from the tamed Timberwolf. A smile breaks across my face and at that moment, however brief it was, all of my worries were washed away.

"Uncle Fen?" I said loudly, knocking on the door of his house. "Uncle Fen, are you in?"

It's been several hours since anyone had last seen him and it was starting to near the time we were to get ready to go to the Gala, so I had tasked myself with looking for him. I had tried a few of the places Ponies would be able to find him, but with how large the town got, even in the last few years, the task was proving to be a long one and I was beginning to run out of time.

"Yo! AJ!"

My ears twitch as a voice calls out and I turn, spotting the source. Without turning my head, I give the door another knock, being sure to add a little more power behind it in hopes of getting a reaction. When none came, I stepped back and placed my hands on my hips with a sigh as Dash came up to my side.

"Anythin'?" I ask, turning my head slightly.

"Nothin'" She replied as she too gave out a sigh. "Y'know, for a guy as distinct as he is, he bucking difficult to find when he wants to be."

"Ya don't know the half of it," I remarked, fully turning away from the door.

"Is there anywhere we haven't tried?"

Rubbing my chin, I went over all the places we had looked for him and remembered there was one place we hadn't looked.

"There is actually," I replied after a moment.

"Where?"

Saying nothing, I simply turn my gaze to the forest encircling our town and stare beyond its borders. Dash followed my gaze and seemingly paled as she realized what I meant.

"I, ugh, I'll go check on Flutters, see how she's doin," She said uneasily.

Nodding, we went our separate ways and I was on my way to the Everfree. It didn't take very long before I was standing on the fringes of one of Equestria's most notorious areas. Staring out into the dark forest, a lump formed in my throat and an apprehension filled my chest as I became unnerved by the forest's stillness.

The Everfree has always been a place most Ponies tended to avoid unless it was a necessity to pass through. Though the risks the forest posed have begun to ease over the last few years, many see that fact as a bad omen and regard it as the same deadly forest it had always been. And yet, despite its remaining innumerable dangers, my Uncle, though highly capable as he is, deemed the place worthy to build his workshop in. As much as I love the man, he will never cease to baffle and frighten me.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I began my march through the still high-risk forest, keeping a tight grip on the handle of the knife my Uncle gifted to me which was attached securely to my belt. As I worked my way farther into the woods, I quickly noticed the change around me.

The sun's light dimmed as the colour seemed to drain from my surroundings, the once vibrant flora now desaturated and lifeless. The air became thick and musky, making it hard to breathe and think straight. It also became heavy and felt as though it was physically weighing me down and slowing my otherwise quick pace. Shaking my head, I try to ignore it and focus solely on the path ahead of me, not letting the forest dissuade and make me lose my way like it had so many others.

After several minutes of uninterrupted walking, I noticed a light in the enclosing darkness which urged me to quicken my pace and before I knew it, I came to the familiar sight of the decrepit ruins of the princess's prior castle, a dim light emanating from its courtyard. Even though the wooden bridge had been repaired, I tread carefully as I made my way across, keeping a firm grip on the rope supports, and walked under the stone archway that made up the front entrance and into my Uncle's den.

For the unaware, it would look like an utter mess, but since I was familiar with my Uncle's equipment, I at least had a vague understanding of what most of it was and what purpose it served. Overhead sat a large beige, triangle-shaped canopy, held up either by wiring or by rods stuck deep into the ground. Metalic crates or boxes were stacked neatly in one corner or another and sprawled across the ground were thick wires covered by black and white ramps which served as a form of protection. The wires were connected to a generator of some type which powered low-hanging floodlights, washing the place in soft yellow light. Off to one side of this makeshift den was a workbench, covered with a multitude of different types of handheld tools, a pair of odd-looking but highly technical boots atop its surface with an intricate blue brooch placed safely on one of its shelves.

Looking around the den, I was unable to spot the man and I eventually decided to venture farther in. As I did, I spotted a large dark silver structure, a soft gleam shone from its many panelled surfaces. Though the technical name escapes me, I would recognise my Uncle's personal gunship anywhere. Its blocky design with its two large cylindrical thrusters gave it a very distinct and unique silhouette. And lo and behold, sitting on a metal crate not far from the ship's main entrance was none other than the man I was after with a heavy-duty toolbox at his feet which left nothing to the imagination.

He wasn't wearing much: his usual greaves, jeans and stained tank top which showed off his impressive physique and the tattoo on both arms, one starting at his wrist and ending in the nook of his arm and the other taking a large portion of his shoulder and peck and ending at his wrist. His helm held firm atop his head. It was a rare sight to behold, to see him unarmoured outside of the comfort of four walls to protect him, even more so in a place as dangerous as the Everfree.

But what truly caught my attention wasn't what he was wearing, but the fact he looked to be nursing a fairly substantial cut on his right palm and a certain, familiar trio standing not too far from him, a sheepish expression clear as day on their faces.

"We're sorry Uncle Fen," Applebloom said, embarrassment clear in her voice. "We really are."

"Yea, we didn't mean to hurt ya," Scootaloo said, the young drake's wings flittering slightly behind her back.

After wrapping his hand in a layer of gauze, he placed his non-bandaged hand on Applebloom's cheek and softly placed his forehead against hers, visibly calming the otherwise tense filly. Upon seeing the act of affection, the other two calmed as well as their shoulder drooped considerably.

"I know," He said, his voice low and warm.

He stands suddenly, making his way to his workbench, and placing the medkit into its compartment within it. Stretching, he goes through a small series of quick exercises before turning his attention to me, leaning against the workbench.

"I assume there's a reason for that?" I ask, indicating to his now-wrapped hand.

"Tried teaching them machinery," he replied with a chuckle, nodding to the trio as they approached. "Didn't work."

"I see that," I said. "Anyway, I came to make sure you were ready fir the Gala."

"Knew it was something," He said, folding his arms, accentuating his larger build.

"So are ya?"

"Yes Jack," He responded. "Don't worry"

"I'm sure," I said. "I trust you'll make yer own way there."

"Naturally," He said, giving a slight nod.

Nodding myself, I peer over the group of friends as they stand awkwardly nearby, looking around for something to occupy their attention. I let out a small sigh and place my hands in my pockets and look back at my Uncle.

"I had better get these three back to town," I said. "Get them ready for the Gala as well."

Saying nothing, he simply nods again as he indicates for the trio in question to follow, with them doing so without delay. Leading us to the entrance of his den, we quickly give our goodbyes before we march back into town, the girls close behind, maintaining constant contact so as to not lose each other. Before we knew it, we were back in the bustling town, ready to fully prepare for the night ahead.

As Luna's moon hung low in the cloudless, starry sky, the inhabitants of the nation's capital city corralled themselves in their usual upbeat tempo, their excitement pouring off of them in as their excitement constantly boiled over for this annual festival.

Tonight was the night, as the crowds of Equestrians filled the cobblestone streets of Canterlot. Parties were being thrown for those unlucky enough to not make the guest list, but this did not deter them, not one bit. Even from the early hours, Ponies celebrated this annual holiday in fervour. Banners hung from windows and rooftops, confetti littered the streets as music blared from anywhere and everywhere. Streets acts dotted Canterlots many streets, ranging from Ponies showing off odd talents to music they had written to comedy acts. This year's celebration was one to remember.

Months upon months of planning were spent in preparation for the upcoming Gala, the final few days leading up to the ball having been used to ship in and assemble the items necessary for the celebration to go off without a hitch. Like many, the kitchen’s staff worked the ovens in the Royal Castle which bellowed with searing intensity as not only the nation’s top chefs, but those from around the globe tediously tended to their tasks, creating the finest dishes that their culinary minds could muster.

The Gala was now well underway, and the many nobles and Ponies invited filed in seamlessly. Ambassadors of all kinds: ranging from Zebras, Minotaurs, Cats, Hippogriffs and Minor Dragons just to name a few enjoyed themselves, happy to go about without the added stresses of politics, as they hadn't been invited in the name of diplomacy but rather to get them away from diplomacy. The only ones missing were the Griffons, though most expected this. Some of the more grounded and agreeable elitists had also attended. All mingled with foreigners amicably and no issues occurred, much to the Princess's delight. Even commoners, who either had connections or had performed exceptional acts, were accounted for, happily going about their business within the festive atmosphere. Yet, despite the more than friendly atmosphere, it was clear most were out of their comfort zone.

The Princesses didn't let this bother them, however, as they graciously greeted any who passed the booth they sat within. Unlike years before, where they would personally greet every attendee one by one as they arrived, instead, they decided to forgo this and arranged several entrances to allow quicker and easier access to the hall. Though still wanting to talk to the masses, they would move amongst the crowds, greeting the attendees on a larger scale and streamlining the time it would take, which happened to allow time to themselves. Although a far less personal approach, it was far more efficient.

The party went off without a hitch.

Luna took a quick sip of the glass of wine in front of her, relishing its bitter yet fruity taste. She set the glass down as she gazed out to the crowds, a pleasant smile across her lips "I'd say this year will be our best yet, wouldn't you sister?"

"I'd have to agree," Celestia replied, taking a sip of her glass.

"And it is good to see the Elements enjoying themselves," Luna commented. "I admit I was unsure it would go well for them."

"As was I," Celestia replied. "Though I had faith."

"You always do."

The two giggled, briefly leaning against each other before going back to their wine. After a while, Luna's eyes glanced here and there, as though they were in search of something. The Lunar Matriarch sighed, though her expression did not change. "He still isn't here."

Celestia initially said nothing, steadily finishing off her remaining wine before she peered over at her lunar counterpart. "Do not worry. Though he is an oddity, he is a man of his word. He will show soon enough."

Their following conversations then began to meander in terms of topics, picking one seemingly at random and yet somehow managing to vaguely string them together in haphazard cohesion. But after some time, during one of their few pauses, a Thestral guard walked up to their booth and whispered into the large she-wolf's ear, a smile widening across her face, just enough to be noticed by her sister who watched intently, not so subtly leaning in to hear what was being said.

"Well sister, it would seem the universe, though later than preferred, has heard us," Luna said as she scooted herself free from the booth.

Leaving before her sister could say a word, Luna b-lined towards one of the hall's side entrances at a brisk pace, being stopped occasionally by dignitaries who wanted a word. It took a few minutes, but she was finally able to exit the building, briefly acknowledging the guards by the door, and enter the hall's side courtyard. It was quiet, the sounds of the high-energy excitement dulled, as a sound suppression spell had been cast so as to not disturb any sleeping residents, with the wind rustling the bushes and shrubbery, as well as the various animals being among the few sounds that could be heard. The Lunar Princess closed her eyes as she felt the wind on her face and as the tranquillity calmed her wracked nerves.

But before she could relish in quiet calm any further, she picked up something on the fringes of her hearing. It wasn't much, a low rumble that could just barely be picked up, very slowly rising in volume, soon turning into a very audible growl. Seconds passed by, the sound now echoing loudly throughout the now darkened sky, when she finally spotted the source. An object, oblong in shape, soared high in the sky, effortlessly gliding along the star-speckled expanse. As it came closer, the sound became near-deafening, many residents peered through their windows or exited their homes entirely to better look at the roaring beast.

Luna's ears fell back slightly, mitigating the great noise if only a bit. The craft began hovering overhead, blowing many a bush and shrub into a tremble, kicking up loose debris and sending the Princess's dress into a frenzy as three of its many panels opened to reveal struts of some kind, one at the front and two at the back. Once these struts settled, the craft lowered slowly, eventually falling still, allowing the Lunar Princess to admire its form.

It was vaguely rectangular with two cylindrical extensions jutting out from the middle a fair bit. It lacked most of any colour, consisting mostly of a dull silver. The only colour it had was at the front, painted onto its surface, a large sinister red grin revealing razor-sharp teeth.

Eventually, as the dust finally settled, silence remained once more, as the flora fell still. But it was not to last. The back of the craft let out a jet of steam as a large section steadily lowered to the ground with none other than the Mandalorian himself standing in wait at the top, his Timberwolf companion by his side. As the platform hit the ground with a thud, Fendral began making his way down with a hand wrapped around his belt loop, his right arm swinging stiffly by his holstered blaster.

The Guards by the door, who were already made cautious by the large metal craft, stiffened upon seeing the highly armoured man and wooden canine, the grip on their rifles tightening as he descended from his craft. They paused briefly once they had made it to the bottom, Fendral tapping his gauntlet in a specific sequence, before quickly resuming their walk. The two large pistons holding the platform began to move, slowly guiding it up and back into place.

Naturally, Luna had become used to this, having witnessed it on more than a couple of occasions. Unfazed, she opened her arms as her friend walked up the small flight of stairs to meet her. Graciously accepting her offer, he wrapped his arms around her and hers around him. For a few moments, neither dared move, as they enjoyed the other's embrace. Unanimously, they each let go and turned, making their way towards the hall's entrance.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't come," Luna said, giving her friend a sidelong glance as idly stroked between the Timberwolf's ears.

"I keep my promises, " Fendral said evenly, glancing at the Guards who snapped into a salute as they passed.

"You do, indeed," She replied amused. "Though you certainly took your time."

"She was being a nuisance," He said, jerking his head towards the now silent and stationary ship.

"Well you're here now," She said. "And with that being said, there's somepony I'd like for you to meet."

The moment Fendral set foot within the large hall, a quiet murmuring broke out amongst the Nobility, though mostly the Equestrian Nobility. Though most of them gave the large Mandalorian a wide berth, there were the small few with the confidence to detail their disdain directly to the source, wording their frustration in excruciating detail. At some point, their words melded together, but the meaning was not lost on the man. The Nobles were none too happy to see him.

However, those of the foreign Nobility actually respected him, as they respected strength and skill over monetary power. Most notably, those of the Dragon Clans held him in high regard, finding his strength and tenacity to be admirable attributes as well as valuing his speed and efficiency. But the other species? they respected him for other reasons.

Throughout his long and coloured career, both as an accomplished Bounty Hunter and during his service years, he had garnered himself a reputation as a man that gets the job done and gets it done quickly and proficiently. But it wasn't until during the darkest period of his life that his reputation turned from respect to fear. At that point, people realised that the Mandalorian was not a man to anger and if you were on his kill list, your days were numbered.

Fendral looked down as these memories flashed through his mind. To this day, the memories of his past transgressions haunted him and they would until the day he drew his last breath. He was no reincarnation of the Draconic God of War, he was no Grim Reaper or vengeful spirit. He was a simple man trying to make his way in the world. He did not regret his actions, however. Only the reasons the actions had to be taken in the first place.

"Look who it is."

The man was shaken from his musings and launched back into the real world as he glanced around to find the source of the voice and quickly find it. A white stallion in a black suit slowly made his way towards him, his blonde mane tied back into a neat ponytail. His icy blue eyes looked the Bounty Hunter up and down with a sneer while his nose was held up slightly.

"I'm surprised the guards let you in, let alone come close," Blueblood said, standing directly in front of the taller man.

Fendral said nothing, simply folding his arms across his large chest, and letting out a barely audible sigh.

The Prince huffed in seeing the display, turning his nose up slightly further. "You would do well to show me some respect, nyaff. It is not every day that I allow commoners such as yourself to attend gatherings such as this."

"And it's not every day I hold restraint towards narcissists such as yourself."

The Prince huffed again. "Mangy cur."

"Bellend."

"Plebeian."

"Pissant."

"Fool."

"Dick."

Blueblood scowled as he too crossed his arms, staring into the man's blank helmet. They stared each other down in a contest of dominance as the Nobles around them glanced between themselves apprehensively, unsure of what to make of the scene unfolding before them. Then they heard laughter.

It was small at first. A quick exhale, followed by a chuckle soon after. And just as quickly, they could hear Blueblood audibly laughing wholeheartedly, the pairs rigid stances relaxing. Offering his hand, Fendral took Blueblood's outstretched hand without hesitation in a firm handshake.

"Good to see you're still as quick as ever," Blueblood said with a chuckle. "How have you been my friend?"

"Busy," Fendral replied.

"So I've heard," He responded, letting go of the man's hand. "The Diamond Dog Camp, the reincarnated Manticore and the runaway Hippogriff. You've certainly been a busy bee."

"Come," He continued before indicating behind him to a nearby table. "Why don't we take a seat? Standing around all night wouldn't be too much fun, I imagine."

The Bounty Hunter did as he suggested and followed Blueblood to the closest table and eased himself gently onto the metal-framed chair, with the two deciding to face towards the room with their backs to the wall behind them. They didn't say anything for a moment, simply relishing the weight taken off of their feet.

"Before we continue, I must ask: where did you acquire such a piece," Blueblood asked, pointing to the brooch on Fendrals coat.

"Rarity Belle gifted it to me."

The Prince hummed in thought, lightly rubbing his chin. "I'll be sure to commission a piece from her. It's simply exquisite."

"So," Blueblood said after a moment. "How are you finding the Gala so far."

"It's as I thought," He replied without hesitation. "Filled with self-absorbed egomaniacs."

"Yes," Blueblood agreed quietly. "Though I have been hard at work trying to convert them to the old ways, it's...been difficult."

"But slow progress is still progress," Fendral replied. "Because it is difficult, it means the reward will be that much better."

"Wise words indeed," Blueblood commended. "I will have to bear that in mind for the future. Thank you"

"Have you taken any time off?" He asked suddenly.

"No," Fendral quickly replied.

"If I may ask: why?" Blueblood asked, gaining a look of slight concern.

"I am not one to stop when I am perfectly capable of continuing," Fendral responded.

"I know my friend, I know," Blueblood nodded. "And I know my words alone will not convince you otherwise, but please, for your sake, if others request that you do, heed their words."

Fendral nodded slowly as Blueblood turned his gaze out towards the party before his head seemed to snap to his left, a smirk quickly donning his muzzle. The man took notice of this and followed his gaze and easily spotted Luna making her way to them with an unknown figure not far behind. Blueblood stood suddenly and stepped in front of the table.

"Well, I know my presence is not required," He said, bowing deeply. "I hope you have a wondrous evening."

And without another word, he was gone, briefly giving his regards to his aunt and the individual following her, before taking off farther into the Gala. Fendral stood from his seats, giving a short but respectful bow to the approaching Princess, as the two continued forwards until they were upon him, who could now take in the appearance of the new arrival.

She was a Reindeer, possibly of northern descent if the shorter, more rounded antlers were anything to go by. Her fur was made up of light shades of brown, with a darker shade running down her face and splitting at her nose and continuing down the sides. Her hair bordered on white, which was long and fluffy and continued down the back of her neck, connecting just under her jaw and proceeding into a large tuft of fur above her well-endowed chest.

She was dressed in a black dress that hugged her full but well-defined frame. It was clear it was a comfortable fit, tailored in such a fashion it wouldn't hike up or stretch too tight. Tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination, but loose enough to be decent and appropriate, with a simple pair of black leggings protecting her thick legs.

A beautiful individual by all accounts.

But what caught the Mandalorian's attention, was that she was of equal height to his. With the average height of most species being five foot six to five foot nine, with the Princesses being only six foot, his six foot four stature meant he had to physically look down to whoever he was speaking to. So this was certainly a pleasant but welcome surprise.

"Fendral, I'd like you to meet-"

"Vixen Ragsdill," He finished, once again folding his arms. "Noble turned mercenary. I know her."

The reindeer seemed amused as a pleasant smile made its way onto her lips. "And you are Fendral Marika. I've heard much about you." Her voice was deeper than most he had met and seemed to hint at a level of maturity similar to his own.

"All good I assure you," Luna added, gaining a mischievous smirk.

"I'm sure," he said dryly.

"I hear you're from Ponyville," Vixen commented, earning a short hum from the man. "I started moving there a few days ago after I heard some great things about it from...a friend of mine."

"What about you?" She continued. "Been there long?"

"For a while."

The Mandalorian glanced between the Lunar Princess and Vixen as suspicion started to grow, making itself known in the back of his mind. Though it was not one hinting towards malice or anything of the sort, it was suspicion nonetheless. Taking ahold of his faded triangular belt buckle, he turned to the Princess before addressing her.

"Luna, may I speak to you for a moment?" He asked, though phrasing it as a question, he and she both knew it was more of a polite demand.

Luna slowly nodded her head and without another word, the two stepped away. Though not far, it was still a fair distance and Vixen raised an eyebrow before not so subtly scooting over to better hear the conversation between the two friends.

Coming to a stop after several paces, Fendral moved his hands to his waist as he and Luna settled, shifting his weight intermittently from one foot to the other. He let out a heavy sigh as his gaze moved to the Princess in front of him.

"I know what you're doing," He said, not bothering to hide his accusatory tone.

Though Luna wanted to playfully act offended, or dance around his accusation with a few choice words, she couldn't find it in herself, heart or mind, to do so. Some friend she would be if she did.

"I know, I just..." She knew he would ultimately find out, he had a knack for it, but she was still at a loss for words. "How long has it been?"

Though she was quiet, quieter than she had any right being, her words were heavy on his mind. They both knew the answer. Fendral said nothing as Luna gently and slowly reached down and took his hands in hers, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

"I know it still hurts. It likely always will," She said. "But sometimes the best way to make peace with it is to face it head-on. And you won't be alone. Not if you try."

"I have everything I need, everything I want," He said, tiredness filling his voice. "In my line of work, tomorrow is not guaranteed. I Will not put anyone through that."

"Is that not their choice?"

His chest heaved as another heavy sigh escaped his lips. Though he hated to admit it, she was ultimately right.

"It's been a long time," He whispered after a moment. "But I don't know if I'm ready. I don't know if I'll ever be."

"We won't know unless you try."

Vixen took a look, this holding far more concern than before upon the man's weighted words.

She, and many others the world over, were familiar with the man's previous exploits, but anything beyond either his service years or his time as a Bounty Hunter was new territory to her. Though feeling guilty over it, the conversation she had just eavesdropped on had laid out many context clues for her to pick away at. And the vague picture that was starting to be painted out for her was not a pretty one.

Scooting back to her previous standing, the two friends quickly stepped back over. As they did, Vixen noticed the man's shoulders had tensed, notably riding slightly higher than usual. Though it would have been difficult to tell under his armour and the thick coat that he wore had she not been as close to him as she was.

"Is everything okay?" Vixen asked, trying her utmost to feign ignorance.

"Yes, everything is fine," Luna replied before clapping her hands with a smile. "Where were we?"

Hours thereafter seemed to pass the four by like minutes, their conversations carrying them well into the night. The small group merely observed the goings-on as the Gala progressed, often providing commentary where they saw fit, much to their amusement. Throughout it all, Fendral had, at one point or another, decided to take a backseat in the talks, allowing the two to effortlessly fill the man's silence, occasionally checking to make sure that he was mentally still with them.

Although not offering much in the way of adding to the various conversations, he was beginning to enjoy himself as he was more than happy to soak in the positive atmosphere he often secluded himself from, a soft smile not once leaving his face. Eventually, Princess Luna had to excuse herself, leaving to speak to foreign dignitaries who had requested her presence, leaving only Fendral and Vixen.

"So you wear the helmet to symbolise the lack of importance your race plays in the overall scheme of your religion," Vixen summarises, taking a bite of her half-eaten apple pie. "Am I getting that right?"

"In a nutshell," Fendral replies. "Though when and where it is worn is clan specific, it's generally in front of an individual's closest friends or family."

"Fascinating."

Fendral looked back out towards the crowds. Though it was late, the party was still going strong, the jovial atmosphere and high, upbeat energy failing to wane in the slightest bit. But throughout it, Fendral couldn't help but wonder one thing, a question that appeared simple on the surface but one he had a hard time trying to answer himself.

"Why did you agree?"

"What do you mean?" Vixen asked.

"You know what I mean."

Vixen seemed to hesitate for a second, her smile wavering for just as long, but she quickly composed herself. Her face softened as she turned to face him.

"Being of a high Noble background, I have always been acquainted with Princess Luna and after hearing that I had decided to settle down, she hoped to help you achieve the same."

"Luna was the one who recommended Ponyville, wasn't she?"

"...she was."

He said nothing as he nodded, casting his gaze once again back out to the party, his mind wondering briefly. He and Luna had been friends for some time, she had stuck with him through his darkest moments and she wanted what was best for him, as does he for her. Celestia was much of the same, though their friendship wasn't as deep as his with Luna, it wasn't any less real.

Luna had always looked out for him, even before he had become friends with her when he was merely working for them. But for her to go out of her way to do something like this? He wasn't sure how to feel about it.

As he cherished the friendship he had with the sisters, he couldn't help but feel as though they worried too much for him. Not that it is unfounded, however, as he often put himself at the centre of danger, even eagerly at times. But he didn't see it like that, just an occupational hazard.

Suddenly, he felt Vixen take his hand softly, cupping it between hers as she gave it a slight squeeze, the soft expression she kept since he met her hours prior never wavering. Despite his helmet, she was staring into his eyes.

"Look Fendral, we're not getting any younger. At one point or another, we have to ask ourselves: have I done enough? And from what I understand, you have. More than your fair share. Maybe it's time to start thinking about life beyond hunting people down for money."

Though he would never admit it, he had considered it a various occasions but was quick to dismiss the notion. He had been in this business for the vast majority of his life and the idea of retiring had become foreign and unnatural, especially now. And with the experiences he's had to endure throughout his lifetime, the idea of stopping is swiftly stomped.

Fendral lightly pulled his hand away and partially intertwined both of his, resting the forehead of his helmet against them. He let loose another long-winded sigh, this one softer than the other as these thoughts graced his mind. To him, he wasn't ready and forcing it upon himself wouldn't help matters.

"...I don't know."

"As the Princess said: we won't know unless you try."

He briefly glanced at the Reindeer before something caught his attention. There was silence. The room, which had been filled with noise the whole night, was now deathly silent, any and all sound snuffed out as the guests stared at the front entrance. Slowly standing, Fendral reached for his blaster, quickly pulling it from his holster as he made his way to the middle of the room. Coming to a stop in front of the gathered crowd, the Princesses stood beside him as he raised his blaster.

"What's happenin'?" A small voice said.

Looking down, he saw Applebloom along with her friends, hiding behind him as they tightly gripped the ends of his long coat. Glancing up, he also saw Applejack and her friends arrive at his back as well, the rest of their families not far behind. Placing a gentle hand on Applebloom's head, he spoke as softly as he could.

"I don't know," He said as Orion nuzzled the scared filly. "Just stay behind me."

Keeping his eyes on the door, he began listening intently, the tell-tale sounds of battle meeting his ears, however, muffled they were. With his sights trained on the front doors, his trigger finger itched in anticipation while the Guards stationed around the large hall converged to his side, their rifles held tight. Suddenly, the doors slammed open with a loud bang, a Solar Guard landing on the floor in an unceremonious heap.

His armour was battered and beaten. Large dents and dings littered the otherwise pristine gear accompanied by long and deep scrapes, blood dripping from the open wounds.

The Guard twitched as he tried moving but was barely able to shift his head as a large Griffon came from behind him and lifted via his neck. Two more came to his side from above, brandishing their firearms. But the look these Griffons had made his skin crawl. They looked dead.

Their once bright golden feather was dark and grey, missing in places to reveal a sickly green skin that was falling away in places to reveal the decaying black flesh beneath. Their cracked beaks bore a malicious grin as their clouded eyes scanned the crowds. But what caught the attention of all was what was beneath their flesh. Following the structure of their bones, metal reinforcements broke through their heavily stitched, stretched and scarred skin, and various symmetrical lights flashed in sequence as gears and pistons shifted the slightest of movement.

No one dared move as the Griffons started to chuckle, locking eyes with the Twins. "Tsk-tsk. Princess, you threw a party without us? Rather rude, eh?"

The Princesses face contorted into that of rage, as the Guards around the hall began moving en masse, both the Solar and the Lunar Guards surrounding the Griffon like a well-oiled machine, their rifles raised and aimed to kill at a moment's notice as the apparent leader began laughing. Fendral pushed the three Fillies farther behind him upon seeing this, knowing full well what was about to happen.

"That's more like it!"

The Griffon reared his head back before he clamped down on the Guards' throat with deadly force and tore away, sending a torrent of blood over his face and once clean floor. The Guard's eyes went wide as he tried to close the gushing wound, gargling his plea for help before he went limp, a look of terror plastered on his face.

The room was flung into chaos as a cacophony of yells and horror-filled gasps sounded off throughout the hall as the guests panicked while more Griffons arrived, either flying through the now wide-open front entrance or smashing through high windows above. Gunfire and quickly dissipating smoke filled the room as the Guards cut down the three at the front entrance, screams echoing throughout the hall while the guests tried to get away through the back door to the gardens while Minotaurs, Zebra Shaman, Minor Dragons and other battle-ready species protected them as they evacuated.

Jumping to action, Fendral grabbed the nearest table and threw it in front of him and those he cared for as they dived for cover. Long dormant muscle memory took over at this point as he began barking orders to the Guards nearest to him.

“Protect the Elements and their families! Get them out of here now!”

The Guards nodded, circling the group as they fired upon any who dared get close. Fendral let out a shrill whistle, gaining Orion’s attention. Lightly punching his thigh twice in quick succession, he pointed to the fleeing group. Knowing the command, the Timberwolf wasted no time in running towards them, ripping and tearing his way through any Griffons he came across. Ensuring they were safely out of the way, instinct kicked in.

Emerging from cover, an arrow glanced off his chest plate as he unleashed a volley of blaster bolts. The shots struck true, finding their marks between the eyes of the nearest group of Griffons and dropping them instantly. Vaulting over the overturned table, he sprinted toward a Griffon who charged at him, firing wildly. Closing the distance, he grabbed the creature’s arms and rifle, twisting them into an arm lock. With the Griffon immobilized, he held down the trigger and spun in a deadly arc, the wild spray of gunfire cutting down anyone caught in its path. The Guards nearby quickly ducked to avoid the chaos.

With a swift motion, Fendral wrenched the weapon from the Griffon’s grasp and flung it aside before delivering a bone-shattering punch to its jaw. The decayed flesh and brittle bone gave way easily, tearing apart as a foul black liquid gushed from the ruptured wound. Suddenly, a sharp ping echoed in Fendral’s helmet, jerking his head toward the source. Another Griffon had opened fire, though the shots bounced harmlessly off his beskar armour. Fendral raised his arm, and with a flick of his wrist, the vambrace-mounted grappling hook shot forward, effortlessly piercing the Griffon’s rotting flesh. With a powerful yank, he pulled the attacker into the air. As the Griffon hurtled toward him, Fendral delivered a devastating punch to its chest, the force of the blow caving in the creature’s chest, sending it flying backwards in a mangled heap.

The front doors burst open, and yet another Griffon stormed in, preparing what appeared to be a rudimentary grenade. Reacting swiftly, Fendral grabbed the nearest chair and hurled it with all his strength, just as his blaster was shot out of his hand. Three Griffons advanced as an explosion erupted behind him, one of them discarding an empty rifle and drawing a formidable blade.

Fendral swatted aside a knife slash from the first attacker, shouldered the second, and deflected a blade from the third before driving a powerful uppercut into his jaw. The strike shattered the hollow bone completely. Ducking beneath another attack, Fendral shifted slightly to evade, grabbed the second Griffon by the arm and shoulder, and hoisted him overhead. With a brutal slam, he brought the Griffon down onto the hard floor, cracking both his spine and the marble beneath.

Staggering momentarily, Fendral recovered as a fresh volley of shots ricocheted off his armour, chipping away the paint to reveal the silver beskar beneath. Seeing a group of five charging, their empty guns discarded in favour of knives, he broke into a sprint. Leaping high over a table, he seized the head of the first Griffon, smashing it down with tremendous force. The neck snapped audibly upon impact. Before landing, Fendral deployed his grappling hook, latching onto the table, and used the momentum to fling it overhead. The makeshift projectile crashed into the group as one collapsed, his skull caved in as the table slammed him into a nearby pillar.

The four remaining opponents charged him simultaneously. The first lunged with a stab, but Fendral sidestepped, catching the blade on his armour. He shouldered the third attacker aside while smacking the second in the face, leaving him dazed, and his armour deflected a wide slash from the fourth. Redirecting the third’s stab, Fendral caught the fourth's arm and rammed his head into the Griffon’s face with a bone-crunching impact.

As the third attacked again, Fendral evaded the strike and used the momentum to drive his elbow into the first attacker’s face, shattering his beak and causing black blood to pour from the wound. The second and third swung in unison, but Fendral deflected their blades. Catching the second’s follow-up strike, he hammered his fist into the third's face, sending him reeling. Capitalizing on the moment, he disarmed the third with a precise forearm strike before sweeping his legs out from under him.

The fourth attempted a stab, but Fendral blocked it and countered by using his armoured head to parry the first attacker’s swipe. With a brutal kick, he sent the first flying, simultaneously driving the fourth’s own blade deep into his thigh.

The third, recovering, charged again, but Fendral met him with a vicious uppercut, snapping his head back. The first attacker swung wildly, but Fendral intercepted the blow with a punch to his arm before landing a devastating strike to his face. He spun around with deadly precision, delivering a powerful downward blow to the back of the third’s head, sending him crashing face-first onto the marble floor.

The second, in a last desperate attempt, roared and lunged to tackle the Mandalorian. Fendral sidestepped smoothly, seizing the back of the Griffon’s head and unleashing a flurry of brutal punches. The force of the blows shattered the Griffon’s skull, leaving him lifeless at Fendral’s feet.

Fendral’s head snapped forward as the third Griffon fired off a couple of shots. The man spun around, catching the Griffon’s hands and forcing the gun away from himself. The two grappled before the man leveraged his greater strength, flipping the Griffon over his shoulders. Without hesitation, he seized the Griffon’s head and twisted, the sickening crack of a broken neck cutting through the chaos.

Before Fendral could regain his footing, the fourth Griffon’s taloned claw struck his head, throwing him off balance. Dazed, he was yanked backwards by the first Griffon, who gripped his coat and slammed him onto his back. Fendral raised his gauntlets just in time to deflect a series of rapid strikes from the first and fourth attackers, each blow forcing him to back-peddle. The first Griffon lunged, attempting to grab his arm, but was rewarded with a sharp elbow to the side of his face. In retaliation, the fourth kicked Fendral squarely in the chest, giving the first an opening to drive a blade into the exposed section of his shoulder. The weapon pierced clean through, narrowly missing bone and arteries.

With a pained yell, Fendral lashed out, sweeping the fourth Griffon’s legs out from under him, following up by slamming his knee into the first Griffon’s face. Pivoting on his heel, he blocked another incoming strike and retaliated by hammering the fourth’s legs again before wrenching the blade from his own shoulder. Gripping the first Griffon by the neck, Fendral plunged the knife deep into his attacker’s shoulder.

As the fourth Griffon staggered back to his feet, he struck Fendral from behind. The Mandalorian spun around just in time to block another punch, his counterstrike shattering the Griffon’s beak into bloody fragments that scattered across the floor. With precision and fury, Fendral targeted the same leg he had kicked earlier, sending the Griffon crumpling to the ground once more. He seized the fallen enemy, hurling him with immense force into a nearby pillar, the impact shattering both the Griffon’s body and the stone, leaving the pillar cracked and crumbling.

Turning to the last remaining Griffon, Fendral strode forward with measured, deliberate steps. The Griffon raised a trembling hand in a futile gesture of surrender, his entire body shaking with fear. His clouded eyes begged for mercy, but the Mandalorian’s cold gaze promised none.

Breathing heavily, Fendral loomed over the Griffon, his towering frame casting a shadow over his cowering enemy. Finally, he had seen enough. With a swift, brutal motion, he drove his fist into the Griffon’s stomach. Reaching up through the creature’s chest cavity, Fendral tore out its still-beating heart. He crushed it effortlessly in his hand, letting the Griffon see it before he collapsed to the floor, limp and lifeless.

The sound of chain sounded off behind and with the last vestiges of adrenaline his body had, he spun around to see a Griffon hefting a sword high above his head with a thick blade deeply embedded into his chest. He dropped the blade with a clatter as his body was yanked back towards a familiar Reindeer. Once the Griffon was within range, she sent an almighty blow, cleaving his head clean from his shoulders. Flicking her wrist, the chain attached to the blade handle wrapped around her forearm as she caught it.

Nodding his thanks, he looked around the room. Everything was still. Fendral limped to the pillar next to where he was and leaned against it, letting himself slide down its length, settling onto the floor with a dull thud. His adrenaline finally left his body as his senses began to dull, his heavy breaths soon levelling out. He let out a tired sigh while he gazed around the corpse-littered hall.

Guards saluted their fallen comrades as they quietly sang their laments, placing a single bit within their belts. The man offered his own prayers for the departed, though he knew his words held no meaning to them, he prayed for them anyway.

Pressing against his knee, he stood with a groan and looked around for his blaster, quickly finding where it had been shot from his hand, miraculously unharmed, bar a chip in its paint. Holstering it, he nodded to any Guards he passed as he strode to the opposite side of the room where the Princess's and Vixen stood, the former two clad in thick, heavy plate armour, their helmets held under their arms.

"They certainly weren't like any Griffon I've ever seen," Vixen said, her hands placed idly on her hips, her blades sheathed on her back.

"What about you my friend?" Luna asked as Fendral came up to the trio.

"No," He replied simply. "This is new to me."

"And those augmentations," Celestia commented. "I have never seen anything like them."

"I've seen a lot of things, but nothing like this," Vixen added. "This is something else entirely."

Fendral only nodded in agreement as he watched as the bodies of the Guards and Griffons were taken away, to be buried and burned respectively. He shook his head.

"Such unnecessary bloodshed," Celestia commented.

"What now?" Vixen asked after a moment.

"I do not know," Celestia responded while Luna signalling for a Guard to come to their position. "I will be in contact with the Griffon King by the morning and Luna will contact possible places they may have come from to hopefully shed light on this situation but for the time being, we can't do much other than wait."

"Yes, you Highness?"

"Take these two to the guest quarters of the Castle while we clean up this mess," Luna said, indicating to the taller duo.

"Of course," He replied, nodding for the two to follow.

"We shall see you later," Celestia said before turning and walking away. "Hopefully we will have answers by then."

In what felt like no time at all, the entourage found themselves in Canterlot Castle, the corridors now filled with both Solar and Lunar Guards, standing at their assigned posts, statuesque as ever, strictly abiding by their stringent code. Before long, they found themselves in the guest's living quarters, a comparatively more modest arrangement Little to nothing was emblazoned or embellished, the colour palette consisting of warm shades of browns, creams or dark reds.

"Here we are sir," The Guard said suddenly.

Looking up from the floor he had stared at for most of the journey, they had arrived at a singular dark oak door. There were no ornate designs it adorning it. There was no gold lining or accent that marked its frame. It was just a plain, unassuming oak door. Nodding his thanks as the Guard opened the door, he silently slipped past him, briefly saying farewell to the Reindeer that accompanied him on the short journey.

He closed the door softly behind him before he made a start on doffing his armour when a sharp pain shot through his shoulder. Carefully removing all articles of upper wear, placing them as neatly as he could onto his bed, he examined the sizable gash in the vanity table's mirror. He sighed once more as he leaned back into the table chair.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

Author's Note

Blueblood's a decent person and crazed Griffons are attacking out of nowhere? What's the world coming to?

Apologies for the wait, been a bit busy with things and as a heads up, future chapters will more than likely follow a similar release time, just so we're all aware

This is also the longest piece I've ever written, so yay for that I guess

please point out any mistakes I may have made
constructive criticism is always appreciated
until next time, TTFN!