Foals

She was wearing a stunning dress, commissioned especially for the evening’s occasion; or at least she would be if she could get the damned thing on properly.

The dress had little hook closures that were supposed to hold it together while it was being laced up, but no sooner had she managed to do one up and another would pop loose exposing her belly fur. It didn’t help that it was too tight to move around in with much dexterity, and she couldn’t see her underside well enough to try and do them up with her magic.

Indulging in an exasperated huff, her horn flared and she tugged hesitantly on the rope for the service bell. She still found herself feeling deeply uncomfortable about having hoofmaidens at her beck and call, but she had to admit it was helpful having other mares around to help her out occasionally.

A few moments later, there was a polite knock at the drawing room door. “Come in, please!” she called, and heard the drawing room door open and close discreetly in the next room. “I’m in the bedroom.”

A crystal unicorn mare dressed primly in a maid’s uniform appeared in the open bedroom doorway, curtsying. “Ma'am?”

“Good evening Tourmaline, you know I hate to ask, but would you mind helping me with the dress? I seem to have gotten myself stuck,” Cadance said, a little embarrassed. She stood back on her hind hooves, leaning against a wall, offering the other mare a clear view of the underside of her dress.

The mare trotted over to help. Her crystalline coat and mane shone translucently with graduated shades of rose quartz, topaz and aquamarine in the late afternoon sun. She ran her sparkling sea-foam eyes over Cadance and the half-fitted dress appraisingly. As she looked up, she found Cadance meeting her eyes, and they shared an awkward smile.

“Hold still Ma'am, I think I’ve got this,” Tourmaline said, after sizing up the situation. Her horn lit up and Cadance felt the dress tightening around her chest as the maid’s magic pulled the sides of the dress together firmly so she could start to do it up.

“I see why you needed help Ma’am. It is… quite… knifflig!” Tourmaline commented after the third time a hook came undone while she was trying to do up the lace. Eventually she managed it, and Cadance set her fore-hooves back on the floor, checking herself in the mirror.

Credit where credit was due, Rarity had done an outstanding job. The winter dress managed to be both warm and soft as silk. It was the purple-blue color of civil twilight, its folds and trim incorporating iridescent shades of purple, pink and green. Adorning the dress were embroidered stars and snowflakes, inset with opals and blue and pink sapphires sourced locally from the Crystal Empire. It had arrived that morning by train, and Rarity had included an elegantly gilded card with an artist statement, which declared that the design was inspired by the northern aurora and the Crystal Empire’s Purple Flag of Many Hues.

She had a few design notes for Rarity though. Either she had taken the wrong measurements or Cadance had put on weight since they were taken, because it was a very tight fit. Size aside, the dress was practically a corset and she wasn’t a big fan of clothing she couldn’t get herself in or out of without expert assistance. She could never understand why that sort of thing was all the rage in Canterlot court circles. Celestia forbid that the wearer should need to use the bathroom!

She felt herself blushing a little as that thought brought her back to the activities of the night before. Even despite their considerable previous sexual experiences together, it didn’t quite seem real how steamy things had gotten in the bathroom the previous night. Shining had seemed to thoroughly enjoy the experience, and while the pee-play with him had only scratched the at surface of her kinks, it was a surface that had lain undisturbed for years, and now it felt like the flood gates were open - she chuckled internally at the pun - she was hungry to explore more, making up for lost time. Best of all, somehow she wasn’t feeling guilty about what they had done together, only excitement. More than excitement; she had been horny as Tartarus last night!

“Ma'am?” Tourmaline’s voice snapped out of her lewd little daydream. She was looking at Cadance’s flushed face with a concerned expression, “Are you alright? Can you breathe OK?”

“Uhhh I’m fine, thanks,” Cadance said hurriedly. “It’s just a little tight, but I’ll be OK. This dress is made for a supermodel not an alicorn apparently.”

“It looks very pretty on you Ma'am. Like you’re wearing the night sky. I’m sure you’ll make a splash tonight.”

“Sorry, what did you say?” Cadance almost choked, shooting the maid a furtive glance. What did she know?

“I said, I’m sure you and Prince Shining will make a big splash tonight Ma'am,” Tourmaline repeated. “At the Winter Market Gala,” she added helpfully.

“Ahah… yes… I suppose we will. Thank you Tourmaline.”

“Begging your pardon Ma'am, but… it means a lot to us. Us crystal folk I mean, your bringing back the Winter Market.”

“Oh,” said Cadance, surprised. “You’re very welcome.”

“The Kristallwintermarkt is old Ma'am. Older than any of us, saving perhaps the Two Sisters. I was just a filly when he banned it. They were dark days Ma'am, under King Sombre’s reign, But some of us remembered the traditions, kept them alive in secret, rund ums Lagerfeuer. It means a lot to see them returning in our lifetime.”

Tourmaline had tears in her eyes. The maid looked, what, at least four or five years younger than her. It was always jarring to be reminded that most of her subjects were technically older than her by at least a thousand years. It had been assumed by many when the Crystal Empire reappeared that its inhabitants had not aged at all during their disappearance, but some of the brightest theoretical physicists from Canterlot and Manhattan had studied the issue and determined that ponies had in all probability aged, but at a much slower rate, around 200 times slower than those left behind in Equestria. Tourmaline would have been little older than a filly when Sombre started his reign of terror, and for her the great disappearance had lasted perhaps around five years, most of her adult life spent in the liminal shadow of the mad king’s banishment.

Cadance was embarrassed to admit she hadn’t really thought that much about the Winter Market’s significance to her subjects. When she had heard about it, it had sounded like a fun holiday tradition, something that might help to bring in some tourist bits from Manehattan or Vanhoover. She clearly still had a lot of reading up to do on local history.

“Thank you Tourmaline.” Cadance held out a tissue for the mare. “Before I make a complete jenny out of myself tonight, I should be honest and say I’m really not that well informed. Is there anything you can tell me about the festival that you think I should know?”

“You’d want my Oma for that. She’s the family historian,” Tourmaline said, blowing her nose on the tissue. “But I can tell you what I remember.”

“Whatever background you can give me would be most appreciated. And please, you really don’t need to keep calling me Ma'am while we’re in private. You’re older than me for Celestia’s sake.”

They trotted over towards the bedroom’s large windows, overlooking the expanse of yet-to-be-opened market stalls set up along the mall and town square below. Some ponies were already milling about, soaking up the last gleaming of Celestia’s dying autumn sun.

“Well, you know that the market starts each year with the Winter Market Gala at the passing of the Erntemond… the harvest moon. The market stays open all winter, and closes around the vernal equinox, with the Crystal Faire.

Cadance nodded. “Yes, I’ve read that much.”

“Well Kristallwintermarkt, the Crystal Winter Market started out in Princess Amore’s time as a way of ponies sharing food and provisions with each other, to help ensure everypony survived the long winter. At the passing of the harvest moon, all the townsponies would gather together in the Kristall-Rathaus to celebrate - or commiserate if it was a poor harvest - and ensure that the supplies they had gathered for the winter were fairly distributed according to need. The Winter Market ensured no one pony or family had too much of one thing and not enough of another, and nopony had more than their fill if others were going hungry. Ponies would barter or buy what they needed from each other, but if a family couldn’t afford to buy food, or an elder wasn’t able to chop their own wood, well other ponies would all pitch in to help them out.”

Cadance smiled. “What a wonderful tradition.”

“As the population expanded, it outgrew the Rathaus and became an outdoor festival. The Winter Market began to stay open all winter to feed the hungry and clothe the cold. The Market closing for the year with the Crystal Faire is a celebration of spring renewal. Ponies gather in unity to celebrate that we made it through the coldest months, and remember those who didn’t.”

Cadance nodded solemnly, struck anew by the significance that it was the revival of the Crystal Faire which had brought the townsponies from Sombre’s cursed slumber.

Tourmaline looked at Cadance giving her a warm smile. “Then there’s the glühwein. Hot spiced wine was served to the harvest workers preparing the town for winter to keep them warm and raise their spirits. It became a Winter Market tradition, and buying your friends or neighbours glühwein at the Winter Market became a way of wishing them good health over the long winter ahead.

“Ah. That makes sense!” Cadance said, smiling again.

“Really there is a bit more to it than that. For some folks, it is seen more allegorically, as a kind of… blutopfer… an offering to the Pale Mare herself, keeping her from your loved ones doorsteps for another winter. If some pony buys you a cup of glühwein, it is considered bad luck not to return the favor, and when you see her, you should offer her a drink.

Cadance could feel her hackles beginning to rise. “That’s a little creepy for a holiday tradition isn’t it?”

“Yes and no,” Tourmaline said. “We don’t celebrate Nightmare Night here Ma’am, because, well, we totally missed out on the whole Nightmare Moon thing while we were away. But it’s much the same thing really; the end of the harvest season has always been seen as a time when the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest, where we give thanks to those ponies that came before us and bargain for those who are left. Besides, there were monsters before Nightmare Moon and there will be monsters after, and ponies have always enjoyed scaring each other around a campfire.”

“Yes, I see. There is nothing wrong with a fright from time to time, if it’s all in good humor,” Cadance said, filing facts away in her memory palace for later use. “But still, let’s hope none of us see the Pale Mare anytime soon!” she said with forced cheerfulness.

Tourmaline smiled disconcertingly “Perhaps we will, perhaps we won’t.”

Cadance shivered. “And what about the the Crystal Faire? I think I read somewhere that the Crystal Faire commemorates the return of the Crystal Heart after it was stolen by a dragon?”

Tourmaline nodded. “Storybook stuff. But that’s just the modern incarnation that’s known as the Crystal Faire. My Oma says there has always been some kind of Frühlingsfest, long before the Wintermarkt, going back as far as anypony has recorded. Come the lenzmond - the spring moon - we eat frühlingsblumen and drink eiswein made from the grapes that froze on the vines, and kristallweizen, a beer that’s made from the previous year’s winter wheat.”

“Is there a more allegorical meaning to all that as well?” asked Cadance.

Tourmaline blushed a little. “Originally, but it’s… well, it’s a little crude. Let’s just say that these days it’s mostly an excuse for a good piss-up, if you’ll pardon my Prench Ma’am.”

“And tell me, where does the flügelhorn come into all this?” Asked Cadance, blushing a little herself and changing the topic. “You know Shining was a flügelhorn player in high-school? He won’t admit to it, but he was very excited at being allowed to play it during the ceremony.”

“So I’ve heard Ma'am. Traditionally the flügelhorn was sounded when gathering parties left the city in search of supplies during the winter, and on their return. Now it’s used ceremonially to herald the start of the Winter Market Gala and the end of the Crystal Faire. And just about anything else that crystal ponies can get away with heralding really; the whole city goes a bit flügelhorn mad. You’ll get used to hearing all the public recitals in the square over Hearth’s Warming.”

There was a knock at the drawing room door.

“Enter,” Cadance called, stepping into the doorway between the bedroom and the drawing room, the starry skirt of her dress billowing around her hind hooves in a manner not dissimilar to her aunt Luna’s ethereal mane and tail.

The door opened to admit Shining, Lock, and Charteris, each wearing their crimson and gold ceremonial dress uniforms for the occasion. Shining’s uniform was positively bristling with medals and replete with the azure sash which marked him as a Ritter Prinzgemahl des Ordens der Ehrwürdigen Socken. He was levitating his flügelhorn in front of him, polished immaculately.

Cadance flashed them a smile. “Hello boys. You shined up well.” She didn’t quite have the heart to tell Shining that the sash made him look a little like a contestant in a Miss Equestria contest.

“Wow, Cady, you look… amazing. That dress is lovely on you,” Shining said, giving her a kiss on her cheek.

“You are looking most presentable Ma'am,” Charteris agreed.

“What he means is you’re looking fabulous darling,” Lock said, grinning as Charteris glared at him.

“Thank you. It’s just a pity it’s too tight to breathe properly.”

“We should be heading down shortly now Ma'am, are you nearly done here?” Charteris said, glancing at a nearby grandfather clock.

“Yes, just about. Tourmaline here has been most helpful. She’s been filling me in on some of the traditions behind the Winter Market.”

“Very good Ma'am,” Charteris said, glancing sidelong at Tourmaline.

“It’s just as well. There are some things I probably should have been briefed on ahead of time,” Cadance continued.

“Did you not read the briefing paper Ma'am? In yesterday’s dispatch box,” Charteris said a little reproachfully, eying the red case sitting untouched on her bedside table.

Cadance groaned to herself. After the previous day’s excitement, she had totally forgotten her homework. She would have to look at it when they got back tonight. It was fortunate there were generally no new dispatch boxes on Sundays.

“Oh, no, I didn’t manage to get to it, I’m sorry Charteris,” she said guiltily.

She turned to Tourmaline, leaning in to speak with her, “Thank you for the history lesson dear. Is there anything else you think I should know?”

“Not exactly Ma'am, but, well, if you’ll forgive me, I do have a suggestion.”

Fifteen minutes later the royal couple and their entourage had assembled at the state entrance to the castle. They boarded the waiting carriages which took them the few hundred meters along the mall from the castle to the town square outside the Rathaus at a slow walking pace.

The carriages were flanked by a detachment of Crystal Guard in full parade dress, led by a Drum Major in charge of a small band of flügelhorn players at the head of the procession. The horn players wore especially elaborate uniforms, complete with azure socks and red tricorn hats bedecked with black feathers.

Cadance watched them out the window of the carriage. Well we aren’t about to run out of pomp and ceremony over winter at least.

“Aren’t they great?” Shining said dreamily over the cacophony of the marching band, “I wish I could play the flügelhorn half as well.”

It was approaching dusk as the procession pulled up in front of the Rathaus. Charteris opened the carriage door for them, and Cadance stepped out with some difficulty, the tightness of her dress not making it easy to move. Shining stepped out after her, levitating his flügelhorn. They were greeted with a warm reception, the throngs of mostly Crystal ponies assembled in the square stomping their hooves and cheering, or waving little mini purple flags of many hues in their muzzles.

Brightly colored stalls lined the square as far as the eye could see. The stalls weren’t yet open, but the stallholders were patiently standing by, bracing themselves for the crowds that would swarm their way once the festival was declared open.

They were met by the Oberbürgermeister, a greying crystal unicorn stallion named Graphit, and spent a few minutes greeting Alderponies and other local dignitaries before moving on to greet the crowd.

The press were out in force for the event, and Cadance was aware of the ever-present clicking and flashing of cameras as she shook hooves with citizens. Most of the photographers kept a respectful distance, relying on their long zoom lenses, but every now and then she would turn around to find a paparazzo pegasai with a camera pointed right up in her face. She swallowed the urge to scream at him and made a point of just smiling politely and moving on.

As twilight fell, the square came alive. All along the mall braziers were being lit, providing convenient sources of heat for ponies to congregate around, drink and talk. The air was crisp and thick with the scent of mulled wine and cider, freshly baked bread and pretzels, and charcoal and wood smoke from the braziers. Stalls were festooned with bunting and lights, some glowing with magic enchantments and others with paper lanterns or jars of fireflies, creating a flickering, sparkling sea. The only thing missing from the postcard winter scene was snow.

A hush fell over the crowd as the waning crescent moon became visible, rising over the castle, signifying the end of the harvest season and the start of the long winter. At Charteris’ prompting, Cadance and her party made their way back towards the Rathaus for the ribbon cutting ceremony.

Oberbürgermeister Graphit introduced her and Cadance stepped forward to speak, with Shining by her side.

“Welcome everypony,” she said, “I will try to keep this speech brief, because I don’t want to hold up the festivities any more than I have to. Over these past few moons, you have all shown such kindness to Prince Shining and I. While it’s true I share blood with the Princess Amore herself, you all know that I am no crystal native.” She gestured to her non-crystal coat self-deprecatingly, to titters from the crowd. “Yet you have welcomed my husband and I with open hooves and hearts as your Ritter Prinzgemahl and Vasallenkaiserin.” She slowed down, taking her time to try and pronounce the words correctly. “And it has been our immense honor to represent the Crystal Empire, to represent you all, on the world stage.”

She paused, waiting for the crowd’s hoof-stomping to die down.

“In the short time we have spent with you, Prince Shining and I have worked hard to rekindle and strengthen the age-old ties of kinship and mutual security that bind the Crystal Empire to Canterlot, and we continue to work to spread the friendship that has begun to blossom with other nations near and far beyond Equestria’s borders.” She nodded her head towards a small delegation from Yakyakistan who stood nearby. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Charteris’ pained expression as he watched cracks forming in the ancient cobblestones currently being subjected to the Yak delegation’s approval.

“Six moons ago, in the event that has become known as The Great Awakening, we resurrected a grand local tradition, the Crystal Faire, the inate magic of which helped to bring us all together and bring you back from the waking slumber of Sombre’s curse, shedding his eternal winter and ushering in a new spring. And now, while the nights grow long once again, we are here to lead you into what we hope will be a kinder, more prosperous winter than those of the past. It is time now to give thanks, and bring back another great Crystal Empire tradition. Please join us in tonight’s festivities, and exchange a cup of glühwein with those you hold dear.”

There was a loud cheer from the crowd. Oberbürgermeister Graphit levitated a red velvet cushion towards her, on which was balanced a comically large pair of golden ceremonial scissors, the handles bedazzled with gemstones. She glanced over at Shining, who was standing to attention with his flügelhorn poised at the ready, then lifted the scissors off the cushion with her own magic, and took a step forward towards the giant blue ribbon.

“It gives me great pleasure to declare the Kristallwintermarkt open, for the first time in over a thousand years!” she announced, stumbling only a little over the pronunciation. As she cut the ribbon, Shining sounded a long two note call on the flügelhorn.

The crowd broke into another round of rowdy hoof stomping applause, and she smiled, giving Shining a nod. The crowd fell silent as his horn lit up brighter, a beam of magenta light streaking into the sky, where it melded with the protective magic bubble that surrounded the city, powered by the magic of the Crystal Heart. A look of concentration came over his face as he made some delicate frequency adjustments to the forcefield, then his magic winked out.

“I think… that should do it!” Shining said, looking pleased with himself. The crowd murmured in confusion when seemingly nothing happened.

A few seconds later, the first snowflakes reached the ground and the murmurs of confusion were replaced by shouts and squeals of delight. Judging by the reactions, Tourmaline’s idea had been a good one.

“Prince Shining has made some temporary tweaks to the Crystal Shield,” Cadance announced, giving her husband a smile and turning back to the crowd. “It should let in just enough snow to add to the winter festivities.”

Once the official proceedings were over, Cadance and Shining stepped into the crowd, mingling with the throngs of crystal ponies to the chagrin of the squad of household cavalry assigned as their protection detail. The guards parked themselves nearby while Charteris and Lock trailed the royal couple through the square at a respectful distance, chatting between themselves. Cadance grinned as she spotted a stall selling glühwein, open cauldrons steaming in the crisp winter air.

After exchanging some pleasantries with the vendor, and arranging to set up a tab, she stepped away levitating two steaming wooden mugs of glühwein. Shining looked ready to take one of them, but she moved them further away from him. “These aren’t for us,” She said, laughing at his crestfallen expression. “Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

She trotted over to where Charteris and Lock were standing, levitating the mugs in front of her. Charteris eyed the drinks, raising an eyebrow like he did whenever he was about to remind her about her estrus schedule.

“Here you go boys. To your good health!,” she said smiling.

Lock took the drink between his forehooves, simply saying “Cheers Ma'am!” She wasn’t positive, but she thought she caught him winking at her as he took a pull.

Charteris’ eye twitched. “Thank you Ma'am, and the same to you, most kind,” he said reluctantly, before taking a sip.

Shining, standing a little way off observing, motioned for Lock to join him. “Am I missing something?” he asked quietly. “Does Charteris just not like mulled wine?”

“No no, he loves it.” Lock grinned. “Your wife just got one over him though. It’s considered terrible luck not to return the favor if somepony buys you glühwein. He has to buy her one now.”

“Ahhhh, sneaky. That’s my Cady!” Shining said, grinning back. He trotted over to his wife, and laid a hoof across her withers, standing next to her for warmth. The gems on her dress flickered and shimmered by the light of a nearby brazier. By now the ground was blanketed in a meagre layer of snow, and they sat watching as a group of fillies and colts tried to scrounge up enough to build a snowpony.

Eventually Charteris and Lock finished their drinks and made their way over to the same glühwein stall, depositing their empty mugs in a barrel. Eying the queue, Cadance was surprised to see a pair of fillies standing in line for drinks, seemingly without any adult supervision. It soon became apparent from the signage in front of each cauldron that the stall was also selling some kind of mulled non-alcoholic cider for children. Her heart sank as she saw Charteris and Lock join the line behind the two fillies, queuing in front of the smaller cauldron.

A couple of minutes later they returned. Lock hoofed a mug to Shining, and Charteris levitated one towards her. “To your good health Ma'am!” he said, with only the merest hint of triumphalism.

A sip confirmed her suspicion that her drink contained no alcohol, though she had to admit the warm spiced apple concoction was still quite delicious. “Thank you Charteris, well played,” she conceded. “But you know I’m just going to go buy myself a proper drink. I have been hearing all about the Winter Market’s famous glühwein for months; I’m not about to go thirsty tonight.”

Charteris shrugged. “That’s your prerogative of course, your highness. But I suspect your aunt won’t be best pleased with you.”

“Celestia can go drink tea and mind her own damn business tonight,” Cadance said, draining her mug. “Please don’t tell her I said that,” she added hastily.

“You have our utmost discretion Ma’am,” he said, glancing at Lock and back at Cadance, “but I’m sure you know she has ways of finding these things out.”

Well that sounded sinister, she thought. Big aunt is listening. She looked around, taking in the Winter Market. It really was very festive with the sea of lights and throngs of revelers, the sound of a flügelhorn band playing in the distance. The air was crisp but heady with the comforting scents of baking spices and mulled wine. The blanket of snow was the icing on the cake. She experienced a wave of frisson as she surveyed the picture postcard scene, feeling the hairs from the back of her coat standing up under her dress.

“If you’ll excuse me, I see somepony else who I owe a drink,” she said, spotting Tourmaline leaning against the wall of a shop in the small alley that abutted the Rathaus. She was chatting with another mare. They were both out of their uniforms, wearing outdoor socks and scarves, but it didn’t take Cadance long to recognize the other mare as Áedammair from her distinctive fiery red hair.

Leaving her husband talking with Lock and Charteris, she wandered back to the glühwein stall’s adult line. The queue had cleared somewhat, and barely a minute later she was trotting with purpose towards where she had last seen the two maids. Turning a corner she was surprised to find them sharing a passionate kiss, snowflakes settling on their manes.

Cadance went to leave them to it, but Tourmaline must have noticed her movement as she looked up startled. “Oh, I’m sorry Ma’am, I didn’t see you there,” she said blushing.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I wanted to thank you for the snow idea. I think you could say it was a hit,” Cadance said, with a feeble smile. “Anyway, I brought you girls drinks!” she added, levitating the flagons of glühwein towards them.

“Thank you Ma'am, that’s very kind. But, begging your pardon, you’re without a drink yourself. Would you wait right there, and I’ll go get you one, so we can raise a proper toast?”

Finally. Cadance smiled. “Oh well, who am I to argue with tradition! That would be lovely, thank you Tourmaline.”

Tourmaline disappeared off, leaving her alone in the alley with Áedammair.

“So… uh… how long have you two… ?” Cadance asked.

“Been bucking?” Áedammair flashed her an impish grin. “About three months. But it’s pretty serious, I’ve even met her family.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” Cadance said smiling. “I had no idea.”

“We’ve been keeping it on the down-low at work. Tourmy is still a little shy about it. I’m her first fillyfooler.”

She definitely lucked out there, Cadance thought, Áedammair is a little firecracker.

“Oh, that’s sweet. You know you have nothing to worry about from me right? I’m technically the Princess of Love after all, and love doesn’t discriminate.”

“Duly noted, thanks Ma'am,” Áedammair said in her lilting accent. “I had a feeling you might be pretty open minded, maybe even a little kinky yourself?”

Cadance blushed a little, looking down at her hooves. “Perhaps, in my youth,” she conceded eventually.

“Aha yes! In your youth, of course. That checks out.” Áedammair’s grin widened. “I’ve always been good at picking em.”

Cadance looked at her in embarrassed confusion, but before she could ask what exactly she had meant by that, Tourmaline returned with her drink. Two drinks actually, one in return for each of the drinks she had bought the maids she assumed; she really wasn’t clear how the maths of this whole glühwein exchange tradition worked.

“You’re not bothering the princess are you M’Láireog?” Tourmaline asked, eying Cadance’s flushed face and shooting her marefriend a dirty look.

“Not at all. We were just chatting,” Cadance said. “But who’s this Liar…Royg?” She asked, sounding out the unfamiliar name.

Tourmaline doubled up giggling at her butchered pronunciation, and Áedammair gave her a stern look.

“It’s pronounced M’Láireog. it’s just a pet name my Da had for me,” Áedammair explained, “I told her about it the one time, and I swear she insists on using it to try and wind me up.”

“If by told me you mean asked me to call you that while I was going down on you, sure,” Tourmaline grinned. “And I know it winds you up.”

Tourmaline reached over and gave her marefriend a little peck on her cheek. To Cadance’s surprise Áedammair was blushing more than she was.

“Aw, cute! You two are cute.” Cadance smiled.

“Yeah, alright. I’ll drink to that!” Áedammair said, raising her drink in one hoof.

Tourmaline set the spare drink she was carrying down on the side step of the Rathaus and levitated the other towards Cadance, then picked up her own drink from where she had set it down earlier on the steps.

“To cute mares then!” Cadance said, raising her flagon.

“To cute mares!” the couple echoed, raising their own drinks, Tourmaline giggling shyly. Cadance took a hefty pull of her steaming drink, finally tasting the famed glühwein. She sighed in satisfaction; it was quite delicious.

After they had all taken a generous sup, Tourmaline raised her drink for another toast.
“May the Pale Mare never cross your threshold,” she said somewhat more solemnly. Cadance and Áedammair echoed her toast, raising their drinks then sipping at them respectfully.

After a moment’s silence, Áedammair raised her flagon again. “May your hearth be ever warm, may your glass be ever wet, and may your bed be as warm as your hearth and as full as your glass!” she declared bawdily.

Cadance wasn’t exactly sure how many drinks she had had. She had lost track after drink four or five, or was it six… and a third? She was most definitely not counting the non-alcoholic cider Charteris had tried to cheat her with.

After they had finished their first round of toasts, they had ended up sharing the spare drink Tourmaline had bought Cadance on her marefriend’s behalf. Their whistles thusly wetted, they had gone in search of more drinks, and they had ended up going from stall to stall together sampling the different glühwein vendors’ wares. As they explored, it became evident there was considerable friendly competition between the stallholders to outdo each other in their offerings and decorations.

They had found a quiet place to sit and enjoy their next round of drinks at a particularly picturesque stall down another of the alleys that lined the square. The cozy pop-up bar was decorated with grape vines and lit by braziers, flickering candles stuck in empty wine bottles, and an array of shimmering fireflies. Their drinks came served in mason jars with straws, which was novel, if perhaps a little kitsch; the glühwein was good though.

Somewhere between her first few drinks Cadance had started to notice the pressure building in her bladder. She had looked around and noted the line of ponies queuing to use the lavatories at the Rathaus, which seemed to be the only building nearby open for public convenience. The mare’s line was long enough for her to dismiss it as an option. Besides, her dress was too long and tight-fitting to contemplate peeing with it on and after ~n drinks she was feeling even less capable than before of getting the dress on or off by herself, and she wasn’t about to ask Tourmaline to help her pee! Instead she did what any working royal enduring a civic occasion would do in her hooves, and elected to push the need to pee out of her mind with the strength of her willpower alone, continuing with their stall crawl rather than interrupt the festivities. It seemed like a winning idea.

As she sipped her drink she became increasingly aware of a cacophony of discordant sounds off in the distance. She looked around to see if she could spot where the racket was coming from; she couldn’t, but after listening intently for a few seconds she managed to isolate the sounds of marching drums and the bleating of several flügelhorns being played in an extremely rough approximation of harmony. They sounded like they were slowly getting closer.

“What is that?” she asked, pointing her hoof vaguely in the direction the sound was coming from out in the square. She lowered her voice to a whisper, “Are they supposed to sound like that?”

“Perhaps we should go see!” Tourmaline said, grinning a little mischievously.

They finished their drinks and stood up to leave. Cadance rose to her hooves, feeling a little lightheaded. She ambled unsteadily down the alley back towards the square to investigate the source of the ungodly noise, the other two mares following on only slightly more steady hooves.

As Cadance rounded the corner into the main square, she came face to face with The Pale Mare.

The mare’s face was a pony’s skull, dark sunken eye sockets staring down at her blankly. She wore a snow white shroud, standing a full hoof taller than Cadance and atop her head sat a crown of hawthorn fashioned into antlers.

Cadance gulped, struggling to breathe. She vaguely felt the small trickle of pee run down her leg as time stood still, her senses blurring as the world closed in around her. The Pale Mare took a step towards her, and Cadance took a stumbling step back, tripping and landing on her flank in the snow.

The mare brought a boney hoof up to where her lips would be if she had any, and the music stopped abruptly.