12. Diamond is the Girls' Best Friend

Twilight Sparkle expertly levitated the knife laden with strawberry jam and smeared it over her already buttered toast. She sat at the desk in her study, her light breakfast in front of her. She tried not to make too much of a habit of bringing food into her workspace, but all too often she found that actually taking the time to sit in the dining room to eat was too much of a wrench to be away from her books, her notes, her work.

Especially when it was something important.

“Will that be all, your highness?”

Twilight looked up from her toast at the Pony who had addressed her. The Unicorn was getting on in years now, but Twilight hadn’t the heart to politely suggest that perhaps she might want to consider retirement. Besides, her secretarial and archivist skills were second to none.

The Unicorn had a brilliant white coat, the cutie mark on her flank being an elegant fountain pen and ink-pot. She wore a snow-coloured collar to match her fur, protruding from which there hung a blood-red lace jabot, just for that little bit of stylistic flair. She stared at the Princess expectantly through a pair of thick-rimmed black spectacles.

“Hmm? Oh, yes, thank you Raven.” Twilight smiled.

The Unicorn nodded, which in turn became a slight bow, and she excused herself from the room. Twilight levitated the freshly jammed square up into the general vicinity of her face while she opened her desk drawer and fished out a spare piece of parchment and a quill. She took a bite of her toast, chewing thoughtfully, whilst making a valiant effort to not drop too many crumbs over her workspace and carpet.

How best to word this? She wanted to gently but strongly suggest that Cozy be supervised with the other students from now on, but last time Starlight hadn’t reacted all that well to her critiquing the headmare’s plans. Was there some way to make it clear that it was in no way reflective of Starlight or her team’s performance thus far?

Twilight frowned. As much as she adored the written word, she sometimes lamented the medium’s inability to communicate tone. At least as far as simple correspondences were concerned, anyway.

She was probably just being the same old, predictable Twilight, overthinking it as usual. Starlight was smart, she’d probably reached the same conclusion she had anyway, right? Additionally, she was an adult, her reaction to having to overhaul her original plan notwithstanding, she could handle a tiny bit of course correction. Still though...

The relative tranquillity of the study was shattered by the loud crack and flash of light of a hastily conceived teleportation spell going off.

“AGGGGHHH!” Twilight observed, her toast flying off at a wild tangent.

Starlight looked over her shoulder. She was standing in the middle of the room, facing the wrong way, her hair unkempt and her eyes bloodshot and twitchy.

“Sorry.” She mumbled. “Aim’s a little off.”

“Starlight!” Twilight cried out. “What’re you trying to do?! Give me a heart attack?!”

Starlight turned on her hooves and offered up a reproachful look. Just then there was a loud knock at the door. Before either of the mares had a chance to react, it opened and a blue feathered head poked through.

“Apologies, your majesty,” the Griffon said. “I heard a loud noise and raised voices...oh.”

Starlight stared sheepishly at her former pupil.

“It’s alright, Gallus.” Twilight raised a hoof in her guard’s direction. “Starlight knows that customarily visitors use the front entrance. Right, Starlight?”

“What? Oh, uh, yeah...”

“I’m sure this is just something urgent.”

“Very good, ma’am.” Gallus replied through the faintest of smiles before retreating from the doorway, closing it behind him with a soft click.

“Starlight.” Twilight said curtly. Just then, Twilight’s breakfast chose that exact moment to become dislodged from the ceiling, landing on her desk with a wet slap, naturally jam-side down. Twilight glared at it before allowing herself a good three seconds of having her eyes closed.

“So good of you to drop by.” She continued. “Can I offer you anything? Tea? Coffee...?”

The Princess took in the headmare’s wild, haggard appearance.

“...shot of ketamine?” She jabbed sarcastically.

Starlight merely grumbled something unintelligible before she screwed up her face in concentration. Laboriously, the now familiar sound proofing spell pushed its way out of her horn. It seemed to have a little trouble getting out, as the Princess couldn’t help but notice that the bubble receded once or twice before the Unicorn was able to expand it to the size of the room, and get it to cling to the walls. Once it was there it flickered for a few moments, but ultimately held.

Starlight sighed from the exertion, and plodded to the desk, where she proceeded to pour herself into Twilight’s guest chair, without waiting to be offered a seat.

“We need to talk,” she panted.

“No kidding.” Twilight replied dryly. “I assume this is concerning your first day yesterday?”

“She’s horrible!” Starlight moaned, slumping over the table and burying her face in her forelegs.

“Well, it was only your first day...” Twilight said as soothingly as possible. Starlight looked up from her hooves long enough to frown.

“Spike sent a report, right? You know what happened?”

“He did.” Twilight confirmed. “I was just about to write a reply.”

The Princess gave a mildly irked look at nothing in particular.

“I suppose there’s not a lot of point now.”

Starlight ignored the fact that she’d cheated her friend out of writing a letter, and grimaced up at the Princess from the desktop.

“And your thoughts?”

“Well, I was wrestling with the best way to strongly suggest that Cozy isn’t left alone with other students.”

“Gee, why didn’t I think of that?” Starlight replied sardonically.

Twilight rolled her eyes.

“Did you at least glean any information?” She asked. “Spike’s report was pretty vague about how your one-on-one session with her went. I was planning on arranging a meeting with you.”

“Precious little, I’m afraid.” Starlight replied, retrieving her trusty notepad from her saddlebag which she then slid across the desk to Twilight, taking care to avoid Twilight’s smashed snack.

Twilight picked up the pad in a hoof and spent several seconds scanning the page.

“This is pretty much just what we knew already...” She said, finally.

“Ugh, I know, I know.” Starlight groaned, reburying her face in her hooves.

“I don’t mean that as a criticism, Starlight.” Twilight said gently. “It’s only been one session, after all. I’m guessing she was pretty adversarial?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” the Unicorn muttered darkly. “But that aside-”

“For now.” Twilight interjected.

“But that aside,” Starlight pressed on, “there’s something bothering me about what I have there, but I can’t put my hoof on what. I was hoping you could help me pick through it.”

Twilight allowed her eyes to drop down to the pad once more, searching for anything that she might have missed on the first read.

“Well...” She mused slowly, “This part about being shortsighted is quite interesting. What made you deduce that?”

“Oh, I jotted that down when I asked her about what her plan was if she’d succeeded in killing magic off for good.” Starlight replied with a wave of her hoof. “I pointed out that such an action would set society back centuries, not to mention cost a lot of Ponies their lives and livelihoods.”

Twilight nodded in agreement.

“She just seems to think that it’s all justified in the name of ‘equality’.” Starlight continued. “Hang the consequences. That’s what led me to shortsighted.”

“Well, that makes sense.” Twilight confirmed. “It’s an interesting avenue to explore. Did you press her on why she felt the need to try to impose this warped sense of equality?”

“Not really, no.” Starlight groaned. “It wasn’t long after that that the threats started, and I cut the session short.”

The Princess sighed with pursed lips.

“Okay, I’m going to need to hear the details about this now, Starlight. How did she threaten you?”

Starlight sighed a deep sigh of her own. This was the moment she’d been dreading, but also, if the uncomfortable truth was to be told, why she’d been so eager to come to the palace this morning. It wasn’t like she could talk about this with anypony else.

“Okay,” Starlight said shakily. “Okay.”

“Take all the time you need, Starlight.”

The headmare took a deep breath, and swallowed.

“First I need to talk to you about Trixie.” She said firmly.

Twilight leaned forward over the desk, not allowing the frustration to cloud her features. This was obviously a procrastination tactic on the Unicorn’s part, but given how upset she seemed, it was one that the Princess would allow.

“Trixie?” Twilight repeated. “Okay. Is she having difficulty filling your role at the school?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” Starlight replied, her eyes drifting to her hindlegs, away from Twilight. “I need to talk to you about...you know...that dream I had...?”

Twilight leaned back in her chair as she felt a tiny twinge of panic in her stomach. The memories of the previous night were still fresh in her mind, and she was still cursing herself for interfering. Why did Starlight want to talk about that, when she’d been so adamant that she didn’t want to discuss the matter before? Why now, of all times, when Twilight had just learned some fresh, juicy information about Trixie’s feelings? Had the magician said something? Had she been caught with her hoof in Trixie’s mind?

“Let me stop you there, Starlight,” The Princess said, rather stiffly. “I had a long think about that night-”

Twilight almost said ‘and I talked it over with my friends’ at this point, but thank sweet merciful Celestia she thought better of it.

“-and I came to the conclusion that it was wrong of me to try to get you to talk about...whatever it was when you clearly didn’t want to. I’m sorry. As long as they’re not nightmares, whatever you dream about is none of my business.”

Starlight met the Princess’ gaze evenly, her expression exhausted.

“I’m in love with Trixie and I need to tell her that within the next week because if I don’t then Cozy Glow is going to do it for me and if she does that then it’ll probably be horrible and Trixie probably doesn’t even feel the same way so I’m screwed no matter what and I hate everything.”

“What?” Twilight gasped, slowly deciphering the avalanche of information she’d been given. “Wait, how does Cozy know?”

“I don’t know!” Starlight went back to mashing her face into Twilight’s table-top. “She just saw the two of us have a perfectly normal, non-amorous conversation, and she just somehow knew.”

“Wha-I mean...did you try to deny it?”

“Of course I did, Twilight.” Starlight looked up from her hooves. “The little goblin wasn’t having any of it. She said if I kept lying about it then she’d tell her the first chance she got.”

“But...but how?” Twilight asked in bewilderment. “How could she possibly know? Was there something magical she managed to get a hold of, or...?”

“No, no magic.” Starlight grumbled through the desk. “I’d have known. She said something about my pupils dilate when I look at her, I wet my lips more when she’s around...I don’t know.”

Twilight clutched a hoof around her mouth as she stared into space. This was a heck of a dilemma. It seemed obvious now that Trixie felt the same way, but ethically speaking, would it be right to tell the Unicorn to just go for it? Probably not, as Applejack’s words rang in her ears:

‘Ya can’t just go interferin’ with matters of the heart.’

No, she had to offer advice as though she had no idea of what Trixie thought.

“Maybe we should add ‘observant’ to this list,” she pondered.

“Twilight!” Starlight cried.

“Sorry. Not helpful.”

There were few moments of silence while Twilight anxiously sucked air through her lips.

“Have you considered simply trying to keep the two of them apart?” She said after some thought.

“That’ll never work, Twilight,” Starlight looked up from the table again. “Cozy has to be able to go where she likes, remember? Your rule, not mine. And you know what Trixie’s like. Heck, the only reason Cozy even saw us talking was because she barged her way into our session!”

Twilight rolled her eyes. Of course, of course that was the reason Cozy saw them together. She decided that now was not the time to dwell on that fact.

“This isn’t so much a threat as it is blackmail,” she muttered.

Starlight thrust herself back into her chair with an angry vigour.

“Good, Twilight.” She spat sarcastically. “You got any other hairs you’d like to split?”

Twilight couldn’t help a look of abashment from crossing her face.

“What if you just warned Trixie to not listen to any scurrilous rumours that may or may not be going around? That might work.”

“It might.” Starlight agreed. “But I don’t want to do that.”

Twilight’s mouth began to form the syllable for ‘why’ before she mentally answered her own question.

“Because you don’t want to lie to Trixie.” She voiced her conclusion.

Starlight looked away and gave the tiniest of nods, a faint blush playing about her cheeks, her expression dour and her ears flattened against her head.

Twilight smiled a small smile, but made sure she allowed it to vanish the next time her friend looked her way.

“Well then...that doesn’t leave you many options.” The Princess said shrewdly.

“No.” Starlight remarked huffily, folding her forelegs in front of herself and looking back at the Princess. “No, it doesn’t.”

Twilight tapped her hooves together.

“Have you thought about maybe trying to appeal to Cozy’s better nature? Perhaps there’s some way you could convince her to keep her nose out of your love-life.”

“Hah, I very much doubt that.” Starlight laughed bitterly. “She absolutely hates me; she’s made that crystal clear. Besides...”

Starlight trailed off, her expression suggesting that she didn’t want to finish her thought.

“Besides?” Twilight pushed.

“I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

Twilight was, admittedly slightly taken aback by Starlight’s use of that word, but when she stopped to think about it, it wasn’t as though Cozy hadn’t earned that description. The Princess privately thought that this could be an opportunity to extend an olive branch to the foal, to create a practical friendship lesson, but given the thorny details surrounding the matter, and Starlight’s already frayed feelings, she once again thought better of saying so.

“Well, I guess you only have two options then.” Twilight stated.

Starlight’s ears pricked up.

“One: You do nothing, and allow Cozy to carry out her threat.” The Princess said, holding up one hoof.

“No.” Starlight said quickly. “No, no, no. There’s nopony I can think of that I’d like Trixie to hear this from less.”

“Then it’s option two: You tell Trixie yourself, before Cozy has a chance.”

Starlight nodded sourly.

“I was really hoping you’d have some elusive third option that I hadn’t seen.” She muttered.

Twilight arched her eyebrows and cocked her head.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“So how the heck am I supposed to do that?” Starlight whined, slumping over the desk once more. “You’re the Princess of Friendship, this must be something you’ve covered, right?”

“Er...um...y’know...this is really more Princess Cadance’s area,” Twilight squirmed. “If you like, I could send her a letter-”

“No, NO!” Starlight barked. “Far too many Ponies know about this as it is.”

Twilight was stunned into silence, while Starlight regained her composure, such as it was.

“C’mon, Twilight!” She moaned. “You must have some idea how I can approach this! All those books you read? You must have devoured a romance or two in your time! How would you do it?”

“Oh!” Twilight exclaimed, keen to not reveal that she had no idea how she would confess her feelings to somepony if the need arose. “Well, y’know, I’d probably just...sorta...do it?”

She slapped a dumb grin on her face, hopefully. Starlight offered her an agonised expression in return.

“That’s the best you’ve got?” Starlight accused.

“Well, I’m sorry, Starlight,” The Princess said grumpily. “Honestly this has never come up for me before.”

“What, seriously?”

“Look, how about this:” Twilight said quickly, anxious to alter the course the conversation was taking, “You just find a nice, quiet moment alone with Trixie, and you just say something along the lines of: ‘Trixie, we’re very good friends, and I owe it to you to let you know that I’ve developed some romantic feelings for you. I was wondering if you’d like to explore them with me?’”

“Oh, Tartarus, that sounds terrible.” Starlight clapped a hoof to her eyes, her face burning.

“What?” Twilight exclaimed in irritation. “What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s just so...I don’t know...clinical.”

Twilight felt her frustration building in her chest. Is that what she was? Clinical? Coldly detached? Overly formal and unapproachable? That’s how she would approach a Pony she had feelings for, damn it. Did it really sound so bad? Like it was being delivered by a robot?

“Well, what’s the worst she could say?” She asked, stomping her feelings down as deep as they would go. “‘I’m sorry, Starlight, I just don’t see you that way’?”

The headmare gave her a blank look.

“Yes, Twilight.” She said in a tone that suggested she was talking to a foal. “That would be devastating.”

Twilight rolled her eyes.

“Look, there’s every possibility that she won’t say that.” She said carefully. “Maybe she feels exactly the same way and she’s just waiting for you to make the first move?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Nothing,” The Princess backpedalled frantically. “Just a hunch.”

“A hunch?”

“I mean, I’m just exploring all possibilities,” The Princess babbled, mentally dropkicking herself. “I’ve never known her to be romantically involved with anypony, and I’ve honestly only ever seen her hang around with you. It’s pretty obvious that she thinks pretty highly of you.”

“Oh Celestia,” Starlight seethed. “I see now. Of course.”

“What?” Twilight asked fearfully, a bead of sweat running down the side of her face.

“It was Trixie who told you I needed a new blackboard, wasn’t it?” The headmare began to rant. “That’s why she wanted to talk to you in private the other day!”

Oh, that. Twilight could only look on in quiet relief as Starlight rose from her seat and began to angrily pace up and down the office, in much the same way she had just a couple of days prior.

“That annoying, beautiful, meddlesome, thoughtful, interfering pain in my a-”

“Now, Starlight,” Twilight interrupted, unable to keep a smile at the mixed messages off her face. “I can neither confirm nor-”

“Oh, stop it Twilight!” Starlight snapped. “We both know it was her!”

Twilight sighed, raising one hoof into the air in defeat.

“Fine, you win.” She said. “She was just being protective of you, that’s all. She was worried that you were upset, and she thought that I might like to replace your blackboard, since it was sort of my fault.”

Starlight rested her hooves on the back of the chair and hung her head down low, letting a series of guttural expletives, rife with violent, sexual imagery escape her throat.

Twilight chose to ignore the outburst.

“She was looking out for you, because you’re her best friend,” she said tactfully. “And, hey, you know, it could be indicative that there’s something else there?”

Starlight sat back down, her face a fierce picture of unadulterated rage.

“I am sorry about making you feel like that, by the way.” Twilight apologised. “I didn’t mean to.”

Starlight nodded, angrily acknowledging the apology.

“S’alright.” She managed to choke out.

“Please try not to give her a hard time over this,” The Princess implored, extending a hoof over the desk. “Her heart was in the right place.”

Starlight reluctantly reached across the desk and touched hooves with her friend.

“I promise nothing.” She replied moodily. “Still though, if I do tell her I’m in love with her and she says she’s not interested, it makes my fall-back position a little easier.”

“Oh? How so?”

“I’ll just murder her instead.”

The headmare’s words hung in the quiet stillness of the office. Twilight stared unblinking at her friend for one, two, three seconds before a giggle fought its way up her throat and out of her mouth. Hearing this, Starlight too began to involuntarily chuckle. Twilight’s giggle became a full-blown laugh, which in turn made Starlight succumb to the laughter even more. Before long, both mares were near crying with mirth.

“Please - ha ha – please don’t do that,” Twilight managed to blurt out, as the comedy moment was coming to an end.

“Oh, like you’ve never wanted to,” Starlight grinned back. “But don’t worry, I won’t.”

The headmare sighed and rolled her eyes.

“I’ll just do what I always do,” she continued. “I’ll yell at her, and she won’t take the slightest bit of notice, and carry on as if nothing’s happened, and I’ll let her get away with it, as usual, because...”

Starlight’s voice trailed off, and her eyes once again returned to the tabletop. Her smile, however, remained.

“Because?” Twilight probed, knowingly.

“You know why because,” Starlight accused, looking the Princess in the eye, still smiling. “Don’t make me say it, damn you.”

Twilight returned the smile.

“Well, I’m sorry about what Cozy has done to you,” The Princess sighed, her seriousness returning. “If you need any help in speaking to Trixie, I’ll do whatever I can. And, y’know, we can always go to Cadance if need be.”

“It’s still a ‘no’ on that one.” Starlight remarked. “But I’ll think about it. I think I’d at least like to try and figure things out for myself with Trixie before I go pestering the Princess of Love.”

“I understand.” Twilight said. “And I’m also sorry I wasn’t able to help much with this:”

She slid Starlight’s notepad back across the table to her. Starlight rested a hoof on top of it and swivelled it around so that it was the right way up.

“You’ve got a couple of interesting observations, but aside from that it’s all surface level.” The Princess continued. “Don’t be disheartened though; it’s only been one session, and it was cut short.”

“Yeah, I suppose. I-”

Starlight cut herself off, her hoof frozen on the pad. She goggled at it, her eyes like saucers.

“Starlight?” Twilight asked with some concern. The headmare continued to stare at the words on the page for several more seconds.

“That’s what was bothering me,” she said softly. “It’s me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“This list, Twilight,” she continued, a note of despair entering her voice. “It’s me. It describes me. Right when I attended your lecture at the school for gifted Unicorns.”

After a short pause while Starlight’s words sunk in, Twilight rose from her chair and quietly padded around her desk as the Unicorn, still staring at the notepad, began to tear up.

“Now Starlight,” the Princess said softly, placing a hoof on her friend’s shoulder, “don’t get upset. That list-”

“Feels victim of injustice, check. No remorse, check. Short sighted, check.” Starlight rattled off, becoming upset. “This is all me!”

“That was you.” Twilight corrected sternly but kindly. “It’s not anymore.”

“B-but how can I possibly hope to reform them if-”

“Starlight, why do you think I chose you for this job?” Twilight cut her off.

“Because...because...” Starlight stammered, her eyes still bearing the sheen of tears. “...I’m the most magically gifted Unicorn you know, and your protégé.”

“That’s true, but no.” The Princess replied, stooping down and giving the mare a light hug. “I asked you to do it because you’re the perfect Pony for the job. Don’t get me wrong, your creative mastery of magic is a nice bonus, but that’s not it.”

Twilight released her friend and walked back to her chair. Starlight watched her, tearfully expectant.

“Starlight, you’ve been where they are.” Twilight said simply, sitting back down. “You know what it’s like to have to earn trust back. To have Ponies look at you funny all the time. To have to work so hard to get accepted. That’s why I chose you.”

“I guess...” Starlight sniffled. “But why should they listen to me? Once they learn I’m no better than they are...”

“Let me ask you this,” Twilight postulated, “who’s the better Pony, the one that’s been good their whole lives, or the one that knows that they have a dark side and actively chooses to be good?”

“I dunno...the first one?”

“I disagree.” Twilight smiled. “You’re living proof that there is a better way. You could have returned to your old ways at any time over the last ten years, but you didn’t. Why is that?”

“Because...” Starlight said slowly, considering the question, perhaps for the first time. “Because I like myself as I am now. I have friends who I care about and who care about me. I have a job that makes me feel like I’m doing some good in the world. Because I’m happy. And there’s no amount of power or control that would make me change that.”

“Precisely.” The Princess leaned back in her chair. “So, who better to show Cozy and the others the path back to the light than a Pony who’s had to walk it herself?”

“I suppose...”

“Believe it.” Twilight continued. “I’ve known how committed you are to redemption ever since we released the pillars. It was you who saw that Stigion was still able to be saved from inside the Pony of Shadows, even when I couldn’t. I wouldn’t trust anypony else to take this assignment.”

“Thank you, Twilight.”

“No, thank you.”

Starlight wiped at her eyes with the back of her hoof while Twilight pretended not to notice.

“Well, this has been quite the emotional roller-coaster, hasn’t it?” The Princess grinned.

Starlight nodded in agreement.

“I hope that this meeting has put your mind a little more at ease.” Twilight continued.

“It has.” Starlight smiled. “A little bit, anyway.”

“Good. Spike mentioned in his report that you’re going to be bringing in a consultant? Where are we with that?”

“Um, yes.” The headmare replied. “An old schoolfriend of the Crusaders. They’re out meeting with her even as we speak.”

“An old schoolfriend?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “What’s her name?”

“Erm...” Starlight struggled to remember. “Diamond Tiara, I think.”

“Diamond Tiara...” Twilight repeated slowly, dredging her memory. “I faintly recall a Diamond Tiara from my Ponyville days.”

“The Crusaders seem pretty confident in her abilities.”

“Good. We could use all the help we can get.”

The trio of Ponies hooves crunched on the gravel of the pathway on the walk up to the monstrous estate. It was around noon, the sun at its highest point, with not a cloud in the sky. The whole land was blanketed in a layer of warmth; another beautiful day in Equestria.

A little too beautiful, was the unspoken thought of the Ponies as they trekked their way up the maddening distance to the house, all the while sweating buckets.

“Do y’all think we should’a made an appointment?” Apple Bloom questioned, pausing to wipe her brow on the back of her hoof. “Ah don’t wanna have come all this way fer nuthin’.”

“She’d better see us,” Scootaloo griped, as she swatted at a gnat in annoyance. “I’m not doing this again.”

“Girls, it’ll be fine.” Sweetie Belle soothed. “Remember, she owes us. That’ll be enough to get a hoof in the door, at the very least.”

“Ah guess,” Apple Bloom responded, unconvinced.

Arduous though the rest of their walk was, none of the three could deny that the views were spectacular. There were islands of carefully cultivated flowers at regular and erratic intervals in the ocean of clean white gravel, along with privet hedges pruned into various exotic shapes. Dancing Ponies, effigies of the estate’s owners in striking poses and abstract shapes were all well represented in the green topiary.

There were also numerous water features that filled the air with the sound of their light babbling. Scootaloo gratefully stopped at one of these, an imitation hollow mossy log that cascaded water into a ceramic pile-of-leaves shaped basin, and splashed some of the water into her face.

“Ew.” Sweetie Belle frowned. “Scoots, you don’t know where that water’s been.”

“Oh please,” Scootaloo dismissed, rearing back up with a refreshed sigh. “Are you kidding me? These things probably pump nothing but bottled spring water.”

Sweetie Belle cocked her head in acknowledgement before Apple Bloom dashed past her to their Pegasus friend.

“Ah’m gonna need some o’ that too.” She panted.

Suitably rejuvenated, the friends’ walk took them past a uniformly spaced double-row of blossom trees, cherry and peach, alternately placed, their sweet scents providing a feast for the senses. A little further, around a gentle curve and a slight incline, and their destination came into view. The smaller, brick and glass building next to the larger mansion, whose full-length windows along the front reflected the glare of the sun. The Diamond Tiara for mayor election headquarters.

Or, less glamorously, the Rich family estate guest home.

The house was a modern design, sleek and square, and had a concrete awning over the entire front, supported by pillars. The Crusaders gladly trotted into the shade, and then up three tiled steps to what they supposed was the entrance; a pair of window doors, through which they saw a familiar face. Sitting at a desk, rummaging through papers and diligently signing each one, was their old classmate Silver Spoon. Her mane was a little spikier than the girls remembered from when they were foals, but the back was still tied up in the same old braid, and she was still sporting her pearls and oversized ‘owl’ glasses. She was wearing a white button-up blouse; professional attire.

Scootaloo gave the glass of the window two tiny taps with the tip of her hoof. A tiny flash of frustration sped across Silver’s features and then it was gone, and she was looking up towards the door, her eyes wide and expectant.

The three mares offered their best warm smiles, and Apple Bloom gave a cheery wave.

“Crusaders?” The trio saw Silver mouth the word but didn’t hear it through the glass. The mare at the desk beckoned them towards her with one hoof. Scootaloo turned the door handle and poked her head around.

“Silver Spoon?” She asked, her voice a mix of joy, nostalgia and incredulity.

“Crusaders!” Silver squeaked. “It is you! Come in, come in!”

She rose from her desk, revealing herself to be wearing a black skirt that hugged her flank snuggly. The Crusaders approached the desk with sheepish smiles as Silver extended a hoof to each of them in turn.

“Gosh, it’s been absolute moons since I’ve seen you three!” The Earth Pony gushed. “What are you doing these days?”

“We teach.” Sweetie beamed proudly. “At the School of Friendship.”

“Of course,” Silver nodded happily. “I think I had heard that somewhere, now that you mention it. Well, the school’s lucky to have you. I can’t think of anypony better to be teaching the next generation of creatures.”

“Thanks,” Apple Bloom blushed. “And what about you? You’re working fer Diamond?”

“I’m her chief of staff,” the heiress stated proudly. “It’s tough work, especially this close to the election, but doing it with your best friend makes it not so bad.”

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell that to you three,” she continued, raising her hoof to her mouth to conceal an upper-class titter.

All three of the Crusaders offered up a polite chuckle in return.

“No, ah guess not...” Apple Bloom murmured.

“So, what brings you down here?” Silver asked. “Is this a social call, or...?”

“Actually, we were hoping we could speak to Diamond,” Scootaloo smiled. “We have a project we’re working on that we could use her help with.”

At this, Silver raised an eyebrow.

“I see. You don’t happen to have an appointment, do you?”

The socialite asked this question with the air of somepony who knew very well what the answer was. Apple Bloom shot a pointed look at her friends.

“Uh...no...” Sweetie Belle squirmed.

To their mild surprise, Silver Spoon simply smiled and nodded at this confession.

“Well, strictly speaking, audiences with Mayoral candidate Tiara are by appointment only,” she said gently, “but as it’s yourselves, I’ll see if she can make some time for you now.”

“Thanks Silver.” Scootaloo grinned.

“Think nothing of it,” Silver replied. “She’ll forgive me for saying, she speaks very highly of you three. I’m sure she’d want to say ‘hello’ at the very least.”

As Silver looked down to her desktop to locate her intercom button, the Crusaders exchanged impressed glances. With a muffled buzz, the Earth Pony found the button.

“Miss Tiara, do you have moment?”

“Sil, please. It’s Diamond. I’ve told you; you don’t need to be so formal all the time. And sure, what’s up?” Came the tinny reply.

“Apologies, Diamond. I know it’s your lunch break, but the Cutie Mark Crusaders are here. I was wondering if-”

“The Cutie Mark Crusaders?” Diamond’s voice cut her friend off. “Really? Wow, send them in, send them in!”

Silver offered a triumphant expression to the girls.

“Ladies, if you’d like to trot this way.”

The grey coloured mare clopped around the desk and led the girls to a nearby oak panelled door. Silver breezed through it, and on the other side the Crusaders found themselves face to face with Diamond Tiara, heir to the Rich fortune. She was in what looked like a repurposed living room, sitting behind a similar desk to Silver Spoon, the remains of a half-eaten bean burrito in a paper wrapper on the tabletop in front of her. Silver Spoon offered a nod to her employer before returning to her duties, softly closing the door behind her.

“Cutie Mark Crusaders!” Diamond announced, rising from her chair and hastily wiping off her hooves with a nearby convenient napkin. “As I live and breathe. How the heck are you three?”

The former-bully shook each of the Crusaders hooves in turn in a practiced manner. Like Silver Spoon earlier, Diamond’s appearance was off from the girls’ memories just enough to be striking. She was wearing a maroon-coloured ‘power’ suit jacket, along with a skirt that matched her secretaries’. This noticeably covered up her cutie mark, and additionally, her namesake accessory was absent from her head. Her purple and white mane now featured middle parted bangs, and the self-important, superior pout was gone, replaced by a sincere smile.

“We’re good...” Scootaloo smiled, noncommittally.

“Here, let me rustle up a couple of spare chairs,” Diamond continued before the Pegasus could elaborate further.

After a few moments of hasty fussing about, during which Diamond fetched two folding chairs to go with the swivel that already sat opposite her desk, Diamond and the Crusaders took their seats.

There was a moment of silence that seemed to linger.

“So, you’re takin’ a shot at mayor, then?” Apple Bloom blurted out.

“For my sins, yes,” Diamond replied, with a light chuckle.

“Well, ah reckon’ that’s a great idea. You’d make a fantastic mayor.”

“Thank you, Apple Bloom.” Diamond responded. “That means a lot, coming from you. I just wish the polls agreed with you.”

“Oh.” Sweetie Belle cut in. “Are they...not good?”

“You could say that.” Diamond rolled her eyes. “I’m getting crushed by my opponent right now. You girls may remember that my dad held the position for all of ten minutes moons ago. After that fiasco, Ponies aren’t exactly in a hurry to trust the Rich name.”

“Who’s your opponent?” Scootaloo probed.

“You girls don’t check out the papers much, huh?” Diamond laughed, opening one of her desk drawers and reaching inside for something. Sweetie Belle flashed her friends a ‘told you so’ look. The heiress passed a glossy piece of paper across the desk, which Scootaloo accepted.

Both she and Apple Bloom gaped at the page, while Sweetie Belle simply smiled knowingly.

“Pipsqueak?!” AB gasped.

“The very same.” Diamond arched her eyebrows. “Not so little anymore though, huh?”

It was true. The campaign flyer (as is what the page turned out to be) featured a barrel-chested two-tone Earth Pony, his crew-cut mane perfectly groomed, his smile bright and shiny. He’d obviously hit a growth spurt at some point since the Crusaders had seen him last, and by the look of him he’d also spent a not insignificant amount of time at the gym. Possibly with Bulk Biceps as a personal trainer, if his chiselled leg muscles were anything to go by.

“Try to keep your drool off the floor girls,” Sweetie teased with a whisper.

“Shut up.” Scootaloo whispered back.

“Sorry ladies,” Diamond piped up. “I don’t mean to be rude, but would you three mind awfully if I...?”

The Earth Pony trailed off, glancing sheepishly down at her half-finished lunch.

“Huh?” Scootaloo said, momentarily not understanding. “Oh, no, no, not at all, you go ahead.”

“Thank you,” Diamond sighed gratefully, before retrieving her burrito from the table and taking a hearty bite.

“Mmm, I do apologise,” she said out of one side of her mouth, the other being full of a delicious rice and bean mix. “I get so little time for lunch these days, and this new burrito place that’s opened up on Mane Street is to die for.”

She paused, the oozing wrap centimetres from her lips.

“Anypony want a bite?”

Sweetie Belle politely shook her head, while Scootaloo and Apple Bloom finally tore their gazes from Pip’s flyer. There had been some words that went along with his picture, but neither pony found that they’d retained them, for some reason.

“Whut?” Apple Bloom stated. “Uh, no, no thank ya.”

“I don’t know what’s weirder,” Scootaloo thought out loud, “that you’re running against Pip again, or that he’s ahead of you.”

“It’s not that weird,” Diamond chewed. “He’s got that grass-roots background that plays very well with the voters. Meanwhile-” she pointed her spare hoof at her own face “-Diamond Tiara Rich doesn’t exactly scream ‘Pony of the people’.”

“Oh...um, ah’m sorry, Diamond.” Apple Bloom mumbled, unsure of how to react.

“Ah, don’t be.” Diamond replied, taking another bite. “There’s still a ways to go. I have a lot of foal kissing and policy presenting to get through. Besides, Pip’s good, but he over-promises.”

“As usual.” She added, with a roll of her eyes. “Did you know he pledged to build an extension to the Ponyville old folk’s home?”

Both Apple Bloom and Scootaloo offered up blank faces.

“I think I remember reading that,” Sweetie Belle replied.

“Hmm.” Diamond arched her eyebrows, and narrowly avoided dripping some sauce on her sleeve. “And do you know where the money for it is coming from?”

“Er, no?”

“Me neither!” Diamond announced, leaning back in her chair and raising her hooves in a grand gesture. “I’ll tell you one thing though; it certainly isn’t coming out of the budget. What’s in that would embarrass our old school’s paperclip allowance. And if I don’t know where the money’s coming from, I’m betting he doesn’t either.”

There was a pause while the Earth Pony swallowed.

“I just need to make the voters see that. I’m just glad he doesn’t have you three writing a campaign jingle for him this time around.”

Diamond tittered for a few moments at her own joke, before she stopped suddenly, her expression turning serious.

“He doesn’t, right?”

There was a chorus of chuckling and ‘no’s from the Crusaders. Diamond breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank goodness. That’d be all I need.”

She paused, still clutching the final quarter of her lunch.

“Well, I’m sure you three didn’t come all the way down here just to see how the race is going. What can I do for you?”

“Well...” Scootaloo said slowly, unsure of where the best place to start would be. “We’re working on a project right now, at the School of Friendship, and we could really use your help.”

“A project?” Diamond raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Apple Bloom took over. “Afraid we can’t really git inta’ details ‘bout it right now, but it’s a biggie.”

“One that we think you have certain expertise vital to its success,” Sweetie Belle added.

“I see.”

Diamond plopped the last morsel of burrito in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a few moments, tapping her hooves together lightly as she did so.

“Look, girls,” she started, her tone apologetic, “I’m very flattered you’d think of me for this. Really. And don’t get me wrong, I owe you guys a lot. I honestly look back at the time when you got your cutie marks as being a hugely positive turning point in my life. But the timing...it’s all wrong. With the election coming, my plate is overflowing as it is. If it were any other time, I’d leap at the chance to help you three out. I mean that. I’m sorry.”

The pale magenta Earth Pony’s ears flattened against her head as she spoke. It seemed as though she was being genuine. The Crusaders collectively sighed, glancing at the floor as they prepared to rise from their chairs.

“I don’t suppose it would make any difference if we mentioned that this is coming from the Princess?” Scootaloo made one final attempt.

“Hold on a second.” Diamond said suddenly, holding up a hoof. The Crusaders paused in their shifting out of their seats.

“The Princess? As in, The Princess of Friendship? As in, Twilight Sparkle?”

“That’s her,” Sweetie Belle smiled.

Diamond’s ears shot back up again as she pursed her lips, obviously mulling something over.

“Just...hold on a second,” she repeated, reaching over her desk and prodding her intercom button. “Sil, could you join us here for a moment, please?”

The four Ponies waited patiently for a few moments before the door opened and Silver Spoon entered the room once more.

“Yes Ma’am?”

Diamond frowned in her friend’s direction, but decided that now wasn’t the time to correct her again.

“The Princess of Friendship, Sil. How would doing a job for her play with the voters, do you think?”

The silver maned Pony arched her eyebrows at this question, rolling her eyes as she performed mental gymnastics.

“Weeell...” she elongated, “without crunching the numbers it’s tough to say with a high degree of accuracy-”

“Just ball-park, Sil, it’s fine.”

“Extremely well,” Silver Spoon smiled. “Princess Twilight is universally loved, doing her a favour...I wouldn’t be surprised to see your approval go up a couple of points across all demographics.”

“Ho-lee moley.” Diamond breathed.

“Now hol’ on jus’ a second,” Apple Bloom interjected. “Ah don’t wanna rain on your parade here, but ah’m not sure tha Princess is gonna wanna go endorsin’ a political candidate.”

“Who said anything about endorsement?” Diamond grinned, holding her hooves up in a gesture of innocence. “I’m just talking about a hoofshake, a ‘thanks for helping me out with that thing’, and maybe a teeny-tiny photo op.”

“Well...ah guess we might be able to arrange that.” AB conceded. “No promises though.”

“Great!” Diamond clapped her hooves together. “And speaking of ‘that thing’, it sure would be helpful to know exactly what it is I’m agreeing to here.”

The trio exchanged some glances in mild discomfort.

“It’s classified.” Sweetie Belle said finally. “Once you’ve agreed, you’ll come up to the school for a full de-briefing.”

Diamond leaned forwards over the desk, her eyes wide and excited.

“Classified? You girls weren’t kidding, were you? This is a biggie.”

“You have no idea,” Scootaloo muttered.

“You’ll be wanting a signed NDA from me then, I assume?” The mayoral candidate said suddenly.

“Uh...yes.” Scootaloo said uncertainly.

“An enn dee whut now?” Apple Bloom questioned.

Sweetie Belle quietly rubbed the bridge of her nose while Diamond supressed a giggle.

“A non-disclosure agreement,” she clarified. “It’s basically just a document that says that if I go blabbing to anypony about anything that I’m not supposed to, you get to sue me into the ground.”

“I can have a template drawn up by the end of the day,” Silver Spoon chimed in.

“Thanks, Sil.”

“Ah don’t know,” AB grumbled. “Whatever happened to a good ol’ fashioned hoof shake?”

“Apple Bloom, you are adorable, don’t ever change.” Diamond laughed. “But don’t worry though, NDAs are standard procedure for things like this, trust me.”

“Ah guess...”

“Well, since we’re getting into the nitty-gritty, I have a few conditions, if you’ll indulge me.”

“Go on,” Scootaloo said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. New leaf or not, she’d been expecting something like this from her former school-friend.

“Well, we’ll call that meeting with Twilight condition one,” Diamond listed thoughtfully.

“And number two?” Sweetie enquired.

“You want me, you have to take Sil too. We’re a team.”

“Accepted.” Sweetie replied, with little hesitation.

Diamond tapped her hooves together thoughtfully, a small, cautious smile playing on her face.

“Well, this next one is a bit more...” She trailed off as her eyes drifted to the ceiling as she searched for the right word.

“Difficult?” Sweetie Belle offered.

“Cheeky.” Diamond landed on. The three mares on the other side of the table exchanged glances.

The Earth Pony took a deep breath before narrowing her eyes conspiratorially.

“You have family in the construction business, right?” She asked, addressing Apple Bloom directly.

“Huh? Uh yeah. In Appaloosa, an ma brother an’ sister have been known to raise a barn or two in their time.”

“Hmm, I bet they have.” Diamond grinned. “Look, I’ll be honest with you, whether he has a plan or not, Pip’s destroying me with this old folk’s home thing. I was hoping that you could maybe talk to the rest of the Apples...”

“...And see if’n they’d be willin’ t’ do the job for ya?” Apple Bloom finished the thought.

“At cost.” Diamond finished. “That’s the cheeky part.”

Apple Bloom’s eyebrows leapt to the top of her head while Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo fixed Diamond with a hard stare.

“I know it’s a big ask,” Diamond continued, undaunted, “which is why, if I’m elected, I’ll see to it that the Apple family gets first refusal on any construction contracts that crop up in and around Ponyville while I’m mayor.”

“Um...ah...ah don’t know...” AB stammered.

“I’m not expecting an answer right now.” Diamond returned to leaning back in her chair, her hooves arched in front of her. “Talk to your family, see what they say.”

“Aren’t you the heiress to the richest family in Ponyville?” Scootaloo probed. “Surely you could just pay anypony to do the job? Why the Apples? Why at cost?”

“I could, if I actually had access to the money,” Diamond sighed. All three of the Crusaders gave her a quizzical look.

“Look, I already mentioned my dad’s disastrous tenure as mayor,” the candidate said softly. “I don’t exactly have what you’d call...the full support of my parents on this bid for office.”

“Oh...I’m sorry.” Sweetie Belle said plainly.

“Don’t be.” Diamond smiled. “To be honest, it’s the way I like it. I’m not buying this job. It’s something I really want to earn. But unfortunately, it means I have to get a little...creative, shall we say, when there’s things that I need to get done.”

There was a small pause. Silver Spoon still hovered uncertainly in the doorway.

“Believe me, I hate to ask.” Diamond continued. “Especially when I already owe you three so much, and we haven’t seen each other in moons. But, if you don’t ask, you don’t get, and this is something that my campaign needs.”

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle’s attention turned expectantly to Apple Bloom. The mare was sitting in-between them, her brow furrowed in thought.

“All future construction contracts come to the Apples first?” She said finally.

“If I’m elected, yes.” Diamond clarified. “You have my word.”

“It would be a heck of a boost fer the Apaloosa Apples...” The Earth Pony murmured. “Not to mention if Big Mac and AJ need a few extra bits.”

There was another short silence, during which the breath caught in both Diamond Tiara’s and Silver Spoons throats.

“Well, ah guess there ain’t no harm in askin’.” Apple Bloom broke the tension.

“That’s all I ask,” Diamond sighed in relief. “Thank you, AB.”

“Missy, you got yerself a deal,” The Apple smiled and rose from her seat, extending a foreleg across the table. Diamond did likewise, and their hooves met in a firm shake.

“Ain’t no promises though,” AB warned as her foreleg bobbed up and down. “I can’t speak fer ma family when they ain’t here.”

“Of course,” Diamond reassured. “I fully understand.”

“Well then, unless there’s anything else...?” Scootaloo ventured with a smile.

A short while later, after the Crusaders had said their goodbyes and assurances that they’d take the mayoral candidate’s terms back to Twilight, the three Ponies were on their way back to their school and Diamond was once again alone with her friend.

“That was masterful, ma’am.” Silver commented, poking her head around her friend’s door.

Diamond had left it open after the Crusaders left, as it meant that she could have shouted conversations with her colleague. Besides, Silver’s room had the photocopier while her office claimed the coffee-machine.

“Sil...” Diamond said sternly, cocking her head in the Earth Pony’s direction.

“Sorry...Diamond,” Silver blushed, before recovering. “Still, though. Well played.”

“Yeah...” Diamond exhaled noncommittally. “I don’t know. It felt kinda lousy asking for that favour.”

“If you want to be mayor, then I fear that asking for things of Ponies is going to become routine.” Silver said gently.

“I suppose so.” Diamond conceded. “Even if we don’t get the answer we want, we should probably do our best to help them out, though.”

“Spoken like a true leader,” Silver beamed. “What do you think this ‘project’ is, anyway?”

“No idea.” Diamond leaned back in her chair. “If it’s come from Princess Twilight Sparkle though, I know one thing.”

“Which is?”

“It’ll involve friendship.”

Spike was determined. He picked his way up the stony path and bounded up a series of nearby boulders. Once he’d reached the top of the tallest one, he looked out across the small valley and shielded his eyes from the sun.

Today, she would not get to him.

It was getting on for late morning, the sun not yet at its highest point. The sky was a bright blue with a light cloud cover, and there was the slightest chill in the breeze. He took a moment to fill his lungs with the crisp air and marvel at the burning-bright orb in the sky.

Most days he didn’t take the time to appreciate it, but it truly was remarkable that his sister was able to magically lug that behemoth into the sky each day. No wonder she was tired.

He heard a light flutter of wings somewhere just behind him.

“Why do we have to do this anyway?” Cozy griped.

“It’s good exercise.” Spike said patiently. “You don’t seem to like sports, so I thought you’d like to take a little nature walk today.”

“What I’d like, is to be left alone.”

Spike turned and looked up at the Pegasus. She was hovering a few feet above and away from him, forelegs folded, and her face bore a seemingly permanent scowl.

“There’ll be plenty of time for that later.” He replied serenely. “There’s no classes today, so after our walk you can do whatever you like.”

He jumped the several feet from his vantage point and his feet connected with the Earth with a dull thud.

“Within reason.” He added.

“Ugh, how much longer do we have to do this?” The foal whined.

“Just a little further.”

Spike returned his attention to the gravelly trail they’d been following. Since he’d been given the unpalatable assignment of foal-sitting Cozy for the day while Starlight and the Crusaders completed leg-work, he’d resolved to ensure that the day passed with no incidents whatsoever, and that included any outbursts from himself. Step one had been to make sure that Cozy didn’t have a chance to cause any mayhem with the other students, hence this solitary trek. Step two was to continually remind himself that she’d say absolutely anything to get a rise out of him, for whatever sick reason. He just had to let whatever came out of her mouth wash over him, and go to his happy place.

A happy place that was inhabited, now more than ever before, by a certain alabaster Unicorn.

He felt a twinge of excitement in his gut as his thoughts returned to her, along with a pang of guilt. It had been several days since he’s last seen her at the palace, and he was starting to worry that he should have been to see her by now. The last thing he wanted was her to think that he’d forgotten, or lost interest, or anything like that.

On the other claw, perhaps it was better this way. He also didn’t want to appear too eager, or even, Celestia forbid, clingy.

Which was unfortunate, because clingy was certainly how he felt. As though if he didn’t get to hold her in his arms again sometime soon then he was definitely going to go insane. Unsurprisingly, his mind kept returning to their first kiss, in the frigid gloom just outside of her shop. Tartarus, he wished he could just live in that memory. Or better yet, do it again.

But how? He couldn’t just go to her and sweep her up in his arms and kiss her until both their faces went numb. Their first tryst had been a passionate, spur of the moment type of affair. Not something that could be easily replicated, and the Unicorn had made it crystal clear that they weren’t anything, not yet, and that he would have to, in her words, ‘play his cards extremely well’.

Well then, Dragon. Time to play your cards like an Appaloosa gambler in Las Pegasus. He’d almost teleported right to her after he’d finished his first report to Twilight, but in a display of restraint worthy of Somnambula herself, he’d decided against it. He’d had a rotten day, he was tired, unwashed and completely in the wrong frame of mind to be effortlessly charming. If he was going to get to where he wanted to be with Rarity, then there were certain formalities that had to be observed.

And Rarity was a Pony who, more than anypony he knew, loved formality.

First, flowers. And none of your garbage either. Roses. Red ones. That was the ticket.

Next, dinner. Somewhere suitably fancy. Manehattan. No, no, wait! Canterlot. He knew that Rarity loved the place, and there was no shortage of snootily exclusive venues to choose from. He could get Twilight to pull some strings for him to make sure he got the ‘royal’ treatment. And also to make sure he got the table reservation for when he wanted. The fact that they’d have a Dragon dining at their establishment would probably raise a snobby eyebrow or two, but with the endorsement of the Princess of Equestria behind him, they’d just have to lump it.

A wide grin spread across his face as he just imagined himself showing up at Rarity’s door, flora in hand, and whisking her off to the capital city and into an eye-wateringly expensive restaurant. There, he’d ensure that the conversation was charming and attentive and that the bubbly kept flowing. Afterwards, perhaps a romantic stroll through a starlit park, before, like the perfect gentle-dragon, he would escort her back to her preferred home, a trip that would take no time at all, thanks to his latest accessory. There, he’d humbly ask if he could see her again.

Whereupon, if he was a very lucky Dragon, and the stars were in alignment, she’d-

“They’re never going to accept you, you know.” Cozy’s words interrupted his thoughts.

It took him a moment to crash back to Earth from his cloud nine fantasy.

“What?” He asked, allowing an expression of irritation to cross his features for the briefest of moments.

“The Ponies.” The foal sneered. “You might have been living with them all your life but you’ll never be one of them. I’m guessing the only reason they do keep you around is because you’re such a doormat.”

Spike nodded up at her, before Rarity danced through his mind’s eye. He smiled at the Pegasus, which pleasingly seemed only to annoy her further.

“They already have accepted me, Cozy.” He chuckled. “I’m a Royal diplomat of the Palace of Friendship. I was with Twilight Sparkle every step of the way to her ascension to Alicorn-hood and the throne. There’s a statue of me in the Crystal Empire for Luna’s sake.”

He continued walking, still grinning away, his attention drifting from the flying foal.

“I was instrumental in getting King Thorax accepted by Equestria, I once prevented a war between the Yaks and the Dragons...” He rattled off. “Oh, oh, I was actually crowned Dragon Lord once!”

Although he wasn’t looking in her direction, he fancied he could actually hear her seething in the air behind him.

“Yeeeah,” he continued, with an exaggerated, self-satisfied stretch. “I gave that up though. I didn’t want to be so far away from my friends.”

“Whatever.” Cozy replied sulkily. “They’ve still got you doing their grunt work though, haven’t they? I can’t help but notice that it’s not Glimmer or the Cutie Mark Cretins escorting me around today. It’s your ugly hide.”

Admittedly, that one did sting a bit, but the Dragon remembered his earlier pledge to himself, and clung to his daydream about a certain irresistible fashionista.

“They know that I’m the perfect Dragon for the job,” he replied airily, flapping up into the air to hover beside her. “After all, there’s no way you’re out running me.”

Cozy’s face contorted into a scowl and she refused to meet his gaze.

“You’re going to have to do much better than this, Cozy.” He said cheerily. “Honestly, after yesterday, I expected more of you.”

Cozy did, albeit involuntarily, look up at him after he’d said this, her ordinarily pink face now beetroot red with fury, her expression psychopathic. How the tables had turned. Spike mentally patted himself on the back, this new tactic of not taking a blind bit of notice about what the foal had to say was working a treat.

He descended to the ground once more and continued to walk. He kept an ear out for the tell-tale flapping sounds behind him that signalled that Cozy was still close by and not making a break for it. Absently, he wondered why she hadn’t tried to escape, at all, at any point since she’d been freed. He guessed, correctly, that she simply had nowhere else to go.

Still though, he found it odd that he hadn’t even had to chase her down even once since becoming her de facto jailer. He assumed it was because the foal was smart. She knew that she didn’t have a hope of escaping, or a plan for what to do even if she did. The thought made him uneasy. If she wasn’t pouring her mental energy into escape plans, then where was it going? What was she plotting?

He crunched up the brow of the next hill, and their destination loomed into view; the semi-translucent branches, leaves and structure of the treehouse of friendship. It looked every bit as majestic as it had the other day; the sunlight still causing the whole thing to shimmer and glint, and cast its multicoloured specks of light across the surrounding landscape.

“We’re back here?” Cozy grumbled, unimpressed.

“It’s as good a place to walk to as any,” Spike shrugged. “Besides, I thought you might want to pay your friends a little visit.”

“My friends?” Cozy repeated incredulously. “Who’re you – oh.”

The Pegasus cut herself short as her eyes fell on the petrified forms of Tirek and Chrysalis. From a distance, the grey stone of their forms did a decent job of blending in with the ruined pieces of masonry from the Castle of the Two Sisters, and the disco-ball like effect from the treehouse did a decent job of obfuscating them further.

Now that they were closer though, there was no mistaking the forms of the king and queen of evil.

“They’re not my friends.” Cozy pouted. “The time we spent together was a means to an end. That’s all.”

“You three spent months together living in a cave,” Spike replied. “Don’t tell me there wasn’t any time when you connected with either of them.”

For a moment, a wistful look crossed Cozy’s eyes. She remained silent for a few moments, before she scowled down at the Dragon.

“Don’t try to therapize me.” She spat. “It’s bad enough when Glimmer tries to do it.”

The Dragon cocked his head at her, a wry smile playing about his lips.

They continued to the statue of Cozy’s erstwhile companions in silence, before, at a convenient grassy patch a few meters from them, the Dragon plonked himself down with a sigh.

“Let’s take a little break.” He said tranquilly. “I brought sandwiches.”

“Delightful.” Cozy grumbled sarcastically, despite the fact that she did actually descend from the air and stood a measured distance from her chaperone. “What kind of sandwiches?”

“Well, there’s cheese, or, uh...gemstones.”

“I guess I’ll have cheese then.” The Pegasus rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Good choice.” Spike remarked.

After the Dragon handed her her lunch, they returned to a tense silence, the only sounds that could be heard were the sound of the birds and Spike loudly reducing his gems to a shardy powder in his mouth. During the break in conversation, the Dragon took the opportunity to closely observe the foal.

His reasons for choosing to follow Starlight’s hasty proposal of a nature walk today were two-fold; firstly, it was a handy way of pretty much guaranteeing that they wouldn’t run into any other students and provide Cozy with an opportunity to create more mayhem, and secondly, he wanted to see how she’d react to seeing her old partners in crime.

It was true that Starlight was the purveyor of her counselling sessions, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t do a little subtle detective work of his own on her psyche.

As he crunched his food, he saw the foal pointedly ignore his gaze, as though she’d rather forget he was even there at all. That was absolutely fine with him; it just made his scrutinising of her all the easier.

He found that after a few minutes, after her gaze had seemingly tired of the lush greenery and castle ruins, her eyes did settle on the statue, and linger there. They were wide and unblinking, her expression unreadable. He allowed her to become lost in her own thoughts for several minutes, before, finishing his sandwich, curiosity got the better of him.

“Do you think they can hear us?” He asked.

“What?” Cozy snapped in annoyance.

“Tirek and Chrysalis.” The Dragon responded simply. “Do you think they can hear what we’re saying? Discord always said he could, when he was stone.”

“And you believed him?” The Pegasus remarked, her eyes still fixed on the frozen forms of her peers. “I doubt it. I couldn’t.”

Spike paused thoughtfully. Cozy continued to stare.

“What would you say to them?” He asked at last.

“Oh, will you shut up?!” Cozy erupted, flinging the crust of her sandwich at the statue.

“It’s a simple question.” Spike replied calmly.

“I don’t know!” Cozy dragged herself angrily to her hooves and turned maniacally on the Dragon. Spike merely offered her a quizzical look. “I’d probably tell them that if by some miracle they do manage to become free, then just to run. Run out of Equestria and never look back. Do whatever you want, rule, oppress, be evil, but for Tartarus’ sake, do it somewhere else. Because you – you and your insufferable Pony friends – you're not even worth the revenge.”

Spike arched his eyebrows.

“Once again, you’re treating me like I’m stupid.” Cozy continued to rant, her eyes burning with hatred. “We both know that they’re not getting free until you’re done with me. Either I reform, or they stay like this. And you think that bringing me here will incentivise me to ‘try to be good’ or whatever idiotic definitions you have laid out in your brainless plan. Because I want to help my bestest friends in the whole world?!”

Cozy paused, gasping for breath. Spike remained silent.

“Well, forget it.” The Pegasus continued. “They’re not my friends. I don’t have friends. I don’t owe them a Tartarus damned thing.”

She hurled the remainder of her lunch into a nearby bush.

“I’m going back to the school.” She spat. “I imagine that means you’re coming too.”

With that, she turned her back on the statue and took to the air. Spike watched her go for five short seconds, before sighing and pulling himself to his feet. He extended his wings, and flew off in pursuit.

“That’s all she said?” Starlight asked, leaning forward over her desk.

“Yep.” Spike replied, slumped over his backwards chair in his usual manner. “She wasn’t wrong exactly; I was hoping to get some sort of a rise out of her.”

It was coming up to late afternoon, and since Spike had arrived back from his impromptu nature walk with Cozy at roughly the same time the Crusaders returned from their task, Starlight had called a sudden meeting, just so everyone could get up to speed. Cozy had returned to her room, seemingly tired, though the headmare got the impression that something was amiss with the foal, and so was eager to get Spike’s account of the day’s events thus far first.

So there they all were, once again clustered into Starlight’s all too familiar stuffy office, the usual warding magic clinging to the walls and ceiling.

“Hmm.” Starlight murmured, leaning back in her chair. “Well, it sounds like you did, just not necessarily the one we were hoping for.”

“It certainly feels like I touched a nerve,” the Dragon said, lowering his chin to touch his arms resting on the back of the chair. “There could be something there, but she’s still too angry to admit it.”

“Hm. It’ll be something I can press her on during our next session.” Starlight said thoughtfully. “Anyway, let’s put that on the back-burner for now. Girls, how did you get on today?”

“Pretty good,” Scootaloo revealed, in-between mouthfuls of burrito.

“Did you have to bring that in here with you?” Sweetie Belle chided.

“What? It looked good,” Scootaloo protested. “Besides, I missed lunch.”

Starlight, though not crazy about the idea of her office being used as an ad hoc break room, rolled her eyes at the interruption.

“Never mind that.” She dismissed. “What did she say?”

“She said yes,” Apple Bloom cut in. “She has some conditions though.”

“Does she now?” Starlight raised an eyebrow. “I hope she’s not looking for bits. We’re stretched tight enough as it is. Let’s hear them.”

“No, nuthin’ like that,” the farm pony smiled. “Firstly, she wants to bring her PA along too. Her name’s Silver Spoon, they’ve bin’ pretty much joined at the hip since our school days.”

“Right,” Starlight sighed. She had wanted to keep the number of Ponies that they brought in to help to a minimum for obvious reasons, but as conditions went it was fairly easy to accommodate. It was Apple Bloom’s use of the word ‘firstly’ that was really making her hooves clench the carpet under the desk.

“Fine.” She said after a momentary pause.

“Good, because we already kinda agreed to that one.” Scootaloo chimed in.

Starlight snorted a small chuckle.

“She can be trusted though, right?”

“Ah reckon so.” Apple Bloom replied. “They’re both bringin’ their own signed NDAs.”

“Huh.” Starlight uttered, partly impressed, partly miffed that she hadn’t thought of it herself. “Well, good. What else?”

“She wants a meet an’ greet with Twilight.” Apple Bloom rattled off. “A hoofshake, a ‘thanks fer helpin’ out’, and a picture she can show potential voters.”

At this, Spike chuckled.

“Twilight’s never going to agree to endorse a mayoral candidate, you know?” He smirked.

“See, that’s just what ah said.” Apple Bloom turned to the Dragon. “But then she says ‘it’s not an endorsement. It’s just a hoofshake’.”

Starlight grunted a chuckle of her own.

“Such spin.” She shook her head. “You girls really weren’t kidding about her, were you?”

“Nope.” Sweetie Belle smiled thinly. “If anything, politics has made her even more calculating, I think.”

“Mmm hmm.” Scootaloo agreed, through a mouthful of burrito.

Starlight allowed herself a slow look up to the ceiling before sighing.

“Fine.” She conceded, finally. “Done.”

“Wha- really?” Spike blurted out. “You think you can get Twilight to agree to that?”

“Oh, she’ll agree to it.” Starlight fixed the Dragon with a hard stare. “We need this ‘Diamond Tiara’, that much is clear. I don’t care if I have to drag Twilight to the photo-op by her nostril hairs.”

The Crusaders tittered at the imagery while Spike grinned.

“Is that it for the conditions, though?” Starlight continued. “Please tell me that’s it.”

“Pretty much,” Apple Bloom said proudly. “There was something she wanted from me, but it doesn’t affect tha school or tha project.”

“Oh?” Starlight arched her eyebrows.

“She wants tha Apples’ to do a little construction work for her, pro bono.” Apple Bloom said with a wave of her hoof. “She says if we agree then we’ll get first pick o’ any contracts that come along if she gets elected.”

“Yeesh.” Starlight rolled her eyes. “You’re sure you girls didn’t go and talk to Flim and Flam by mistake?”

Smiles and cocked heads served as the headmare’s answer.

“Well, fine.” She continued. “Do you think they’ll say yes?”

“Ain’t no harm in askin’,” Apple Bloom shrugged. “It’s a mighty fine deal, so ah think ah kin sell it to them. ‘Sides, ah already told Diamond there was no promises. The favour is me puttin’ it to mah family.”

“Good,” Starlight nodded. “Right then, it looks like we might be getting somewhere. Let’s wrap this up, us all being here with no eyes on Cozy is making me nervous. Girls, thank you for reaching out to Diamond, you did good work.”

The Crusaders offered their boss a trio of happy nods.

“Spike, special thanks to you too.” Starlight turned to the Dragon. “I know today can’t have been pleasant. If you could please send a letter to Diamond Tiara telling her to be here tomorrow morning, you can take the rest of the day off.”

“Sweet.” The Dragon murmured.

“Oh, and don’t forget Twilight’s daily report, too.” The headmare added. “Tell her we need a favour, but don’t tell her what it is. I think I’m going to need to convince her face to face, preferably before she’s had too much time to over-think it.”

“You got it.”

“Excellent. Dismissed.”

Starlight watched her staff exit the office with decidedly more of a spring in their steps than the last time. Particularly Spike, who was no doubt mentally planning what to do with the remainder of the day now that he was free. She allowed herself a half smile, before the harsh reality set in and she realised that she now had to spend the rest of the day with Cozy.

She sighed so deeply that it was a credible impression of a deflating balloon. Idly she opened the bottom drawer of her desk. The wine bottle inside stared up at her expectantly.

Right, time to make a deal with herself. If she could get through the afternoon with Cozy, not lose her temper and maybe even glean some more information, then she and little miss Côtes du Canterlot would pay their favourite mare a visit in the evening.

A little vino, a healthy complain about work and a catch-up with her best friend. What could be nicer? Who knew where it might lead?

The tingle of excitement in the Unicorn’s stomach was enough to blast the apprehension of the task at hoof away completely.

Author's Note

Another long chapter where not much happens! Yay!

Thanks for sticking with me. I'm going somewhere with it, I swear. I think.

Anyway, hope you enjoy and have a good Christmas. See you next chapter!