The Princess of Redemption

by Cassette

Rating: teen
Tags: Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Starlight Glimmer, Romance, Trixie, Spike, Comedy, Rarity, Sex, Twilight Sparkle
Length: 99369

Twilight seeks to right a wrong that won't stop bothering her.

Twilight Sparkle is overworked and plagued with guilt over the fate of 'the mean three'. Meanwhile, Starlight Glimmer grapples with feelings that bubble to the surface at inopportune moments as well as a daunting new job, and Spike once again attempts to get closer to the mare of his dreams. Set some time after 'The Last Problem'.

Published 2024-03-31 19:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2024-12-15 02:01:04 UTC

1. Heavy Hangs the Head with the Crown

The wind blew harshly around the royal statuary garden, whisking brown and yellow leaves to-and-fro in miniature whirlwinds about the damp ground. It was only a few weeks since the running of the leaves, and the evidence of that was scattered all over the lawns and pathways, clumped up in ramshackle piles under privet hedges, in the shadow of the statues, or anywhere else they could find reprieve from the harsh wind. The sky was a moody grey; not quite yet raining but making no empty threat of it either.

Princess Twilight Sparkle faintly mused that she really should send a couple of the royal groundsponies in the garden’s direction armed with rakes as she lightly nudged a small clump from the path in front of her. She trotted along further, her hoofsteps creating the familiar clip-clop noise on the flagstones that was audible even over the rushing breeze. Behind her, there came a second, much more padded and difficult to detect sound of a creature following behind; her royal guard, obligated to accompany her wherever she went whilst in Canterlot and often beyond. The princess threw a glance over her shoulder. Gallus was some ten feet behind her, in full Canterlot military regalia. His armor was polished to a high shine, so much so that it was practically a mirror, and in one clawed hand he carried a shield bearing the royal crest, in the other a spear, its shining tip pointed skyward. Twilight noticed that he did not allow the shaft of the spear to touch the ground, nor the heavy wood and steel shield to fall slackly by his side. Whether this was because of his seemingly endless respect for the tools of the crown entrusted to him or simply his determination to embody the ‘seen and not heard’ virtue that royal guards are known for she wasn’t sure. She paused in her late afternoon constitutional to face him properly.

“Thank you so much for accompanying me on my walk Gallus.” She smiled, knowing full well that he’d had no choice in the matter.

If the griffon in any way had any qualms about being out in the cold, he made no sign of it, or of any other emotion for that matter. Gallus was a griffon that took his job very, very seriously. Twilight remembered the ‘too cool for friendship school’ young creature that she had met when she first threw open the doors of her institution, and there were few similarities with the griffon that she regarded now. Gone were his sarcasm, snide glances and huffy body language, replaced with pure stoicism. His body had changed too, as years of physical fitness, not to mention guard training and boot camp had caused him to bulk up considerably. Even though his armor, Twilight could see his biceps bulging as they strained against the weight of his equipment. His feathery blue coat was still the same of course, though now it was punctuated by specks of grey, particularly around his jaw, giving the impression he was sporting a beard. Quite distinguished, Twilight thought, not that she was much of a judge of such things. By way of a reply, he merely gave a low, slow nod, his feathered helm momentarily tipping towards her. Then his eyes returned to their seemingly glazed dead-ahead gaze; looking at nothing but observing everything. He paused in his trailing of her, maintaining a professional distance between them. Twilight turned her head and proceeded on her walk with a small chuckle. This boy was good.

Twilight continued down the path, the cold air whipping at her coat, forcing her to suppress a shiver. She allowed her gaze to trace over the various statues she passed by, almost feeling guilty that she wasn’t treating each one with the reverence it truly deserved. She passed by Mistmane, Sonabula, Rockhoof, et all the pillars. She gave the Starswirl carving the tiniest of nods as she passed, a superstitious acknowledgement of his impact on her life. She pressed on, knowing exactly where she was headed, both eager to get it over with and dreading it in equal measure. She passed by Celestia, Luna and herself (with a minute eyeroll). The face on her statue had been so bad they’d had to place a book in front of it. Not that that wasn’t accurate.

Then she arrived at her destination, Gallus, as ever, close behind. This was a circular section of the grounds, surrounded by tall hedges, divided at various points by yet more pathways that led off to other sections of the garden. In the center of the lawn there stood the largest statue they’d passed by yet. It dominated this portion of the garden, and Twilight had had it moved here especially, in an attempt to keep it away from prying eyes. True, there were undoubtedly places where it could be more out of sight – the rarely used castle dungeons leapt readily to mind – but somehow the princess couldn’t bring herself to do that, not to this statue. Because that was the thing. It wasn’t a statue. Not really.

“Hello again.” Twilight murmured to the petrified forms of Tirek, Chrysalis and Cozy Glow. Naturally, her greeting was not reciprocated, as they remained frozen in the poses that they struck the day they were turned to stone, Tirek cowering, Cozy Glow in wide eyed jaw dropped horror, and Chrysalis lunging forward in attack, ever defiant. Twilight made an effort to visit every month or so, and also scheduled regular cleanings for the three, but it did little to alleviate her guilt. She was painfully aware of something Discord had once said to her: ‘Just because I’m made of stone doesn’t mean I can’t hear every word Celestia says...’

She gazed up at them in silence for the longest time, her eyes tracing every line, every shadow, somehow wordlessly begging, pleading with them to recognize that in some way she was just as much a prisoner of this as they were. She snorted humorlessly. She highly doubted they’d see it that way. If the shoe were on the other hoof, she sure as heck wouldn’t.

Gallus took in the scene, his ruler once again eyeballing the statue of the three villains. The mean three, some of the guards called them, in hushed tones in out of the way places such as the armory or mess hall. Whilst Gallus didn’t disagree per-se, it scarcely did justice to the scope of their evil. He wondered why his princess tortured herself so, and often wished he could ease her burden. But that was a thought unbecoming of a royal guard. His job was just that, to guard the princess, to protect her from harm and to obey her commands, nothing more. To ask her how she was feeling, or if there was anything he could do to help? That would surely amount to speaking out of turn, punishable by disciplinary action. Still though...

He had long since stopped mentally preparing himself for what he’d do if, for whatever reason, the petrification spell were suddenly to fail and the three were somehow back and thirsty for royal blood. Rush forward, interpose himself between Twilight and the three, bark an order at the princess to get to safety (for immediately life threatening situations was one of the few occurrences by where guards were permitted to issue commands to their monarch) and hold them off while Twilight made good her escape, at the cost of his own life if necessary. The thought meant little to him; he knew what he’d signed up for when he took the job and wouldn’t trade the sense of pride he got from it for anything, certainly not his own personal safety. Though now he’d run the scenario through his mind umpteen times, he began to wonder if there wasn’t some other kind of attack going on here, one that he couldn’t see, much less protect his princess from. One that was slowly but surely eroding her mental health. The thought brought a chill to his bones, but even if it were true, what could he do about it? Tell her to stop doing this to herself? That she’d been right to turn them to stone? Tell her that she should deposit the wretched trio in Tartarus and to never give them a second thought? No. No, it wasn’t his place. The best thing he could do would be to be what he was; a guard. If she were to ever ask him though...

“Do you think I made the right call here, Gallus?” The princess’ words sliced through his thoughts like a razor. “With them, I mean.”

A panicked look passed over Gallus’ features. He wasn’t used to being asked such a direct question by the princess. Fortunately, Twilight’s attention was still focused on the statue. He quickly regained his composure, even as his mind raced for an adequate reply. For several agonizing seconds the only sound was the rushing of the wind and the faint, almost imperceptible pitter-patter of the first few drops of rain. Gallus knew he’d waited too long when Twilight turned her head over her shoulder, looking at him directly, her eyes pained and pleading.

“With respect, your Majesty,” He began, his voice low, “it is not the place of a lowly palace guard to question the decisions of his ruler.”

Twilight’s eyes closed, and she allowed her head to hang slightly. Gallus too closed his eyes, though more out of frustration than sorrow. That wasn’t what she needed to hear right now. He blinked his eyes back open and shot a look that could kill at the frozen reprobates. How committed to friendship could a creature have to be to feel any pity whatsoever for these three? How inherently good could one pony be to allow their much-deserved fate to eat her up inside? He sighed silently. He supposed that that was why she was friendship incarnate, not to mention ruler of Equestria, and he was not. Then something strange happened. Some of the youthful defiance he’d once had, a healthy disregard for the rules reared back up inside of him as he broke protocol. He quietly strode forward to her, closing the gap between them until he was at a comfortable conversation distance. As though she were a friend. A friend who needed to hear a comforting word or two. As stealthy as he was, he could only muffle the clanking of his armor and equipment so much, and Twilight looked up, the sorrow in her face replaced with intrigue.

Come on. Give her something.

“However, I will say this Ma’am,” He said, looking her earnestly in the eye, “I strongly doubt that there is a stallion, mare or foal in all of Equestria that thinks that you made the ‘wrong’ call.”

Twilight looked stunned for a moment, but only a moment. Then a thin smile spread across her face. Gallus didn’t show it, but his chest swelled with pride that he’d managed to alleviate her worry, even if only temporarily.

“Thank you, Gallus,” The princess spoke softly. “Sometimes I wonder...”

“Think nothing of it, Ma’am.”

The rain began to pick up the pace, even as Twilight held out a large purple wing to gauge the frequency. She tutted lightly. Gallus made no move, waiting patiently for instructions from his princess.

“Perhaps we’d better head back,” she said finally. “Funny, I don’t remember there being a shower scheduled today.”

“As you wish, ma’am,” Gallus replied, stepping to one side, and raising his spear to attention. Twilight stared at him for a second.

“You know, you don’t have to be quite so...formal around me Gallus.” She said with a smile.

“Ma’am?”

“After all, we’re old friends. I’ve known you since I was your old headmare.”

Gallus once again felt his chest swell. This time he fancied that his chest feathers ruffled out, and he thanked Celestia for his breastplate.

“It is...” he began, adjectives temporarily failing him, “...extremely kind of you to say so Ma’am. I look back upon my times at your school of friendship as some of the happiest of my life.”

Twilight stared at him, her lips parting ever so slightly in surprise. She hadn’t expected such vulnerability from such a seemingly battle-hardened griffon.

“I only hope that through loyal service that I can in some small way repay you for your gift.”

Twilight smiled. There was that rigid formality again. It had been hardwired into him, and she had a pretty good idea by who.

“Walk beside me on the way back, will you please Gallus?” She said, trotting past him. “Friends walk together, not following behind at a distance.”

A twinge of ice ran through the griffon’s blood. Protecting his regent was one thing, but being friends? Holding an actual conversation? As though they were equals? That made him balk.

“A...as you wish, Ma’am.” He stumbled over his words, before awkwardly striding up beside her. His mind searched frantically for something to say but came up empty. Fortunately, she put him out of his misery by speaking first.

“It was my brother who trained you in the guards, wasn’t it?” She said, a sly smile playing about her face. Gallus glanced in her direction and caught her look. It wasn’t really a question, though something told him that his demeanor had already given him away as a Shining Armor protégé, as though she didn’t know it already. For the first time in their excursion, he cracked a smile of his own.

“Indeed, ma’am,” He replied, beginning to feel more at ease. “I had the honor of training and graduating under his Lordship’s tutelage. As a matter of fact, it was he whom recommended me for this position.”

“Really?” Twilight feigned surprise. “Very impressive. He wouldn’t have chosen just any-creature for this job; he must have seen something outstanding in you.”

Gallus lost a short battle with a goofy grin.

“I couldn’t possibly comment, Ma’am.” he said, momentarily looking away.

“Though I will say this,” he continued, “his Lordship did communicate to me in no uncertain terms both the national and personal importance of this role.”

“I bet he did.” Twilight replied dryly. That sounded like her brother. She dreaded to think about the intensity of that particular conversation. No wonder Gallus couldn’t be stiffer if he’d had a broom handle inserted up the back of his armor.

“Indeed so, ma’am,” Gallus continued, seemingly oblivious to Twilight’s faint exasperation. “It was a difficult learning experience under his Lordship, but one that I cherish. Now, every time I put on this plate and pick us this shield and spear, I strive to live up to his shining example.”

A second passed, and Gallus’ eyes widened slightly at his unintentional wordplay.

“If you’ll, uh, pardon the pun, ma’am.”

Twilight giggled, raising a hoof to her mouth as she did so, in a royal manner.

The walk back to Canterlot castle was an uneventful, if sodden affair. Twilight tried her best to shield herself from the incoming torrent with an outspread wing, with limited success. By the end Gallus was trying to find some modicum of shelter under his shield, with equally ineffective results. Nevertheless, their walk back together had been a pleasant one; Gallus seemed to be finally loosening up. Twilight would have been lying if she said he made conversation as effortlessly as one of her old Ponyville friends, but he undoubtedly seemed more at ease than when the walk started. They’d talked about the time at the friendship school, traded a couple of ‘remember when’ stories back and forth and Gallus had even admitted to a misdemeanor or two from his old school days. It made her feel a lot better after her self-imposed bi-monthly guilt trip. She frowned as the memory of why she’d insisted on going out in the first place bubbled back to the surface.

By the time the dark silhouette of the east wing of Canterlot castle was upon them, they were both soaked to the skin. The tall spires cut angular jet-black shapes into the dark blue sky, and a distant cloud was briefly illuminated white by a flash of lightning, followed several seconds later by a low rumble of thunder. They approached the drawbridge, and Gallus stepped forward, lifted his spear a few inches, and brought the shaft down hard, striking the cobblestones with a loud crack. Somewhere on top of the battlements they saw a head, bedecked in the same helmet the griffon was wearing, look over the edge and then disappear. A few moments later, the portcullis began to ascend, accompanied by a loud rhythmic clacking. As it rose, Twilight turned her head towards her companion.

“Thank you once again for coming with me,” She smiled. “I know it isn’t the most exciting assignment following me around the gardens.”

“Not at all, Ma’am,” Gallus replied, his eyes fixed on the gradually retracting portcullis. “It was a most enjoyable time. I mean that with all sincerity.”

Twilight’s smile broadened.

“Though to tell you the truth, I will be glad to get back inside,” He continued. “This isn’t the kind of weather one wants to be carrying this around in.”

He gestured to his metal tipped spear. Twilight simply stared. Gallus allowed his comment to hang in the damp air for a moment before he threw the princess a sideways glance along with a wry smile. His look caused her to erupt into riotous laugher, and not the understated, practiced, Canterlot titter either, full-on guffaws. Seeing his princess like this proved to be too much for Gallus, and he too descended into a deep belly laugh.

“Oh goodness” Twilight choked through the laughter, “It’s a horrible thought, but...”

She trailed off as the mirth once again took hold.

“I’d be,” Gallus spluttered, laughing more at Twilights’ laughing than his own joke, “I’d be deep fried griffon!”

Their laughter echoed around the battlements as the portcullis locked into place.

Twilight stepped out of the en-suite and into the royal bedchamber, levitating a towel to her mane as she did so. Her room was meticulously tidy, something that Twilight would admit was much easier to maintain now that she had her own personal maid. A four-poster bed with silk sheets that looked as though they’d been ironed onto the mattress dominated the room, complete with semi-opaque drapes held in place with purple cords. At the foot of the bed she kept a large oak keepsake chest, the dark wood so highly polished one could see their reflection in it. Opposite that, there was a modest (for Twilight) bookcase, a place where she kept her currently ‘active’ books, tomes that were too important to be left in the library, volumes that were of sentimental value for one reason or another, or texts that she needed to refer to too often to warrant keeping them far from hoof. The books were arranged in no particular order, a fact that mildly irked Twilight from time to time, but as the shelf was constantly shifting in its contents she’d long since given up trying to maintain any kind of catalogue. Besides, despite there being no system in place, she knew exactly where each book was.

Her mane having been dried as much as the fluffy towel would allow, she stretched out her wings and magically dragged it across her feathers, pulling as much water as she could from them, before carelessly tossing it on the corner of the foot of her bed. She strode across the room and took a seat at the stool of her dressing table. As she used a ping from her horn to illuminate the inset gems around the edge of the mirror, she saw her own disheveled reflection staring back at her. With a tiny ‘hmph’ she levitated her hairbrush and began to attack the tangled mess that was her mane. The dresser was the one part of the room where everything wasn’t cleared away – the surface of the table was littered with perfume bottles, mane products, brushes, a pair of tweezers, a hoof file, a pair of eyelash curlers – anything a hardworking princess could possibly need. That was what Rarity had said when she gifted Twilight most of the products, anyway. Twilight had never really been a pony that cared that much about her appearance, though now that she had been the ruler of Equestria for several years, she had to admit, now that mandatory public appearances could arrive at the drop of a hat, it certainly paid to have the best beauty products bits could buy. Around the edge of the mirror, Twilight had pasted numerous photographs of her closest friends. There was Applejack and Rainbow Dash running the leaves, Fluttershy tending to her sanctuary whilst discord loafed around in the background, Starlight Glimmer in her headmare outfit, a magazine cutout with accompanying article of Rarity accepting Manehatten’s coveted ‘Pony to Watch’ award, a picture of Pinkie and her family at the rock farm last Harth’s Warming, and a baby picture of Spike. There were more, of course, too many to mention, she was the Princess of Friendship after all, and they were threatening to obscure the mirror in its entirety. Perhaps she should invest in a photo-album, she mused as she tugged at a particularly stubborn strand of purple hair.

As she brushed and her mind wandered, and the rain beat with increasing intensity against the pane of her window directly behind her, she heard a light knock at her bedroom door. She glanced over, the door right next to the entrance to her bathroom and beheld a foggy silhouette through the frosted glass. Though she couldn’t make out any of the features clearly, she could tell one thing; whoever it was, they were standing on their hind legs. The princess smiled. Spike.

“Come in,” Twilight called, returning her attention to her mane. The door flung open and Spike stepped into the room. He paused to gently close it behind him, before he closed the distance between himself and the bed in two strides before perching himself on Twilight’s trunk and letting out a sigh of exhaustion. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and supported his head in his hands. Twilight glanced over her withers at him. He’d certainly grown up in the last few moons, blossoming into a full-fledged adult dragon. He was barrel chested, clearly defined pectorals and abs visible underneath his shimmering purple scales. His legs too had become more muscular; though they weren’t often visible due to the fact that the young dragon had taken to wearing pants. For reasons of self-consciousness, Twilight supposed, though they were his only extravagance, the rest of him was just as naked as he’s always been when he was a child. His feet had lengthened and broadened and so too the claws that protruded from each toe; inches long and razor sharp and currently worrying Twilight’s carpet. His green spines had lengthened, and now curved backwards away from his skull, possibly due to his tendency to sweep them back with one hand when he was embarrassed, or pleased with himself. His tail had followed suit with the rest of his body, now engorged and muscular, presently draped limply across his thighs. His wings were perhaps the part of him that had changed the least; they still seemed impossibly small for his body, how he was able to stay airborne was a mystery to the princess.

“How was the changeling Kingdom?” Twilight enquired, spinning around in her chair. “You were gone longer than I thought you’d be.”

“Tiring.” Spike sighed. “I had some issues to iron out between the Kingdom and the Dragon lands. I can give you a full oral report if you want.”

“Go on.”

Spike massaged his temples as he thought.

“A group of Changeling youths infiltrated the Dragon lands and were playing at being dragons for a week or two.” He grumbled. “They got caught when the activities turned to lava diving.”

“Goodness!” Twilight exclaimed. “No creature was hurt, were they?”

“No,” Spike waved a hand in the air as though to ward off unpleasant imagery. “Fortunately, they weren’t stupid enough to actually try it for themselves.”

Twilight untensed in relief.

“But, when they refused, the jig was pretty much up. They got found out, and suddenly the whole thing looks like a case of espionage.”

Twilight nodded grimly. She could see how it might look like that.

“Of course, Dragonlord Ember saw what it was from the very beginning; a bunch of kids who think that being a dragon is the coolest thing in the world.”

“For some reason,” he added. “But of course, there was a vocal dragon minority that was convinced that this was an act of war, blah blah blah, and suddenly I have to step in to liaise with Ember and Thorax, investigate the younglings, set up meetings, find a solution that satisfies both parties and ensure that an appropriate punishment is metered out.”

He finished, allowing his palms to slip over his eyes.

“I see,” Twilight smiled. “And what punishment did you settle on?”

Spike looked up from his claws.

“Grounding.”

“Classic.” Twilight’s smile broadened. “And you’re definitely sure that’s all it was? Little Changelings wanting to play at being dragons?”

“Ohhhh yeah,” Spike drawled, leaning back against Twilight’s bed. “I conducted interviews with all the kids. Let’s just say I was left with no doubt in my mind that they’re really, really into dragons.”

“I see,” Twilight suppressed a giggle. Spike allowed his back to arch over the back of Twilight’s hoofboard until his head rested on her quilt and he found himself staring at roof of her bed. Finding it far from comfortable, he hoisted himself back into a sitting position.

“And then of course I had the flight home in this weather, and I’m exhausted.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” Twilight sighed, setting her mane brush on her dresser and levitating a parchment scroll from a drawer. “I was going to ask you to take another job in Yakyakistan.”

Spike’s face crumpled like a paper bag filled with paper bags. There was no way he was flying all the way to the mountainous tundra that was Yakyakistan anytime soon. He’d earned a little break, darn it. Besides, there was nothing there besides surly Yaks, vicious arctic beasts, and...oh. Oh, hold on.

“Yakyakistan?” He repeated, looking up.

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ll get somepony else to...”

“Love to.” Spike cut his adoptive sister off, standing and plucking the scroll from her magic. Twilight looked up at him as he unfurled the paper. In her sitting position he towered above her, and she got a view of his enthusiastic expression. Why was he suddenly so keen to go to Yakyakistan when a second ago he looked like he was about to fall asleep right in her bed? She knew he took pride in his work, but there was something else going on here. What could there possibly be up in the mountains of interest to the young dragon? There was only Yaks and...oh. Of course.

“Zoning dispute, huh?” Spike murmured, scanning the scant details on the page. “Twilight, you give me the most glamourous jobs.”

The dragon smirked at her before returning to his impromptu chair. Twilight narrowed her eyes and smirked a smirk of her own.

“I’m sensing a certain eagerness from you to go Yakyakistan, Spike.”

“Hmm?” Spike glanced at her, his face suddenly feigning innocence. “No, not particularly. I just love my job is all.”

“Riiiight”, Twilight elongated the word, accusingly. “And it wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Rarity’s over there, would it? Trying to break a new branch of Rarity 4 U into the region?”

“What?” Spike’s innocent act went into overdrive. “No, no, the thought hadn’t even occurred to me.”

“Sure.”

“Buuut, now that you mention it, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to catch up with ol’... what did you say her name was?”

“Rarity.” Twilight deadpanned.

“Rarity, right, right.” Spike repeated with a click of his fingers. “You have so many friends it’s tough to keep track. Gosh, I haven’t spoken to her in moons.”

He paused, his eyes staring into space.

“Be nice to see her again.” He said, the act dropping for just a moment. Twilight raised an eyebrow at him, causing him to instantly become fascinated with the scroll once more.

“You’re not fooling anypony, you know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The dragon sniffed.

“Sure you don’t,” Twilight teased. “So I guess you won’t be taking the Rarity-themed plush toy that I know you still have with you?”

The oblivious act dropped from the dragon’s features completely, replaced with mild annoyance.

“You shut your horse mouth about Rare-bear.”

Spike’s words hung in the air for a moment. For a second the dragon wondered if he’d crossed a line. Then, mercifully, the Princess began to giggle. Spike breathed a sigh of relief, before letting out a chuckle of his own.

“A fine way to speak to your Princess,” the mare laughed. “I could have you reprimanded, you know.”

“Perfectly normal way to speak to your big sister though,” Spike countered.

“Yes,” Twilight conceded, regaining her composure. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

A silence hung over the bedroom for a few moments. Spike took a seat on Twilight’s trunk once again and looked at his adoptive sister, taking in her unkempt appearance for the first time.

“What happened to you? You haven’t been out in this have you?” Spike broke the silence, with a nod in the direction of the window.

“I just took a walk,” Twilight returned her attention to the mirror, now her turn to play the innocent game.

Spike eyeballed the back of her head, knowingly. The sound of the rain on the window filled the room as the dragon considered his next utterance.

“Not the statue garden again?”

Twilight said nothing, merely continuing to fiddle with her mane, though her silence spoke volumes. Spike sighed.

“You need to stop torturing yourself.” Spike said, as gently as he could. He said it not as a command, but a simple statement of fact. Twilight once again spun around in her chair.

“And how am I supposed to do that, exactly?” She snapped, anger creeping into her voice. “I live here in a literal palace, while three creatures, one of them a foal, are encased in stone in my very grounds-”

“Three creatures,” Spike cut her off calmly, “who threatened the lives and welfare of every creature in Equestria. They didn’t give you much choice.”

“But now,” Twilight rasped, “now I have a choice.”

Spike leaned back, extending his legs and crossing them.

“So...what? You’re gonna un-petrify them? And then what? Return them to Tartarus?”

“I...I don’t know. No... I doubt that Tartarus could hold them, especially if they’re working together...”

There was another long pause. Spike could see that his sister was hurting, but there was little he could do. Why did she have to take on the weight of this all by herself? She already had enough to deal with, having borne the responsibilities of both of her predecessors at the same time. She just had to obsess over this one little – not even a mistake – a necessary unpleasantry, and she was letting it tear herself up inside. Heavy hangs the head with the crown, he supposed.

“You want to rehabilitate them,” He said, finally. “Redeem them.”

“I’ve done it before,” Twilight spoke softly. “Discord, Starlight, Sunset, Tempest...”

“You can’t save everycreature!” Now it was Spike’s turn to snap. He stood and placed his clawed hands on Twilight’s shoulders.

“Not everypony can be redeemed,” his voice softened. He hadn’t meant to raise it in the first place, but seeing Twilight like this hurt him too. “Some are beyond help.”

Twilight looked up at him, tears forming in her impossibly large eyes.

“I wouldn’t be much of a Princess of Friendship if I didn’t at least try.”

Spike sighed and paced to the window. His own brooding reflection greeted him.

“No, I suppose not,” He relented, acutely aware that this was an argument he wasn’t going to win. “Though, if we’re being technical, I think Fluttershy gets the credit for redeeming Discord.”

Twilight snorted a tiny laugh.

“Yes, alright, I’ll give you that one.”

Spike looked at the Princess over his shoulder.

“How much sleep are you getting?” He asked, changing the subject.

“Sleep?” Twilight repeated, caught off-guard. “Oh, you know...enough.”

“How much?” Spike pressed, turning from the window and leaning against the frame. “How many hours per night?”

“I’m getting...five, sometimes six hours...” Twilight squirmed.

“That’s not enough.” Spike said with a roll of his eyes.

“I get royal siestas, too,” Twilight dodged.

“You’re a Princess, Twilight. You should be getting eight hours a night, at least.”

“I can’t.” Twilight said simply. “I have to dispense all my Princess duties during the day, and then there’s the dream realm that needs at least some patrolling at night.”

Spike shook his head.

“We need another Princess,” he said to the window.

“Hm.” Twilight said humorlessly. Then the Dragon’s words sank in. “What?”

Spike looked over his shoulder.

“No, I mean...not like that. We need a second Princess. Like how Celestia had Luna.”

“Ah.” Twilight raised a hoof to her chin in thought. “Another Princess...”

Spike narrowed his eyes at his sister. He knew that look. Something he’d said had led Twilight on a path of thought. What that path was, he couldn’t be sure, but he knew Twilight well enough to know that it was pointless to ask. She would just brush him off, so he supposed he’d have to just wait and see. He pursed his lips as he rolled the parchment he was still holding up in his hands.

“I’ll, um, get a good night’s sleep tonight and head out to Yakyakistan in the morning.”

“What?” Twilight was suddenly snapped out of her ponderings. “Oh, oh yes. Do you want me to take you there?”

“No, I’ll fly,” Spike replied with a smile. “The exercise’ll do me good.”

“Are you sure? It’s no bother. I can just teleport you there.”

“No thanks. Seriously, I’ll be fine.”

“Why not?” Twilight asked, almost indignantly. She knew that Spike thought that she was overworked, but she was fine, perfectly capable of dispensing her duties.

“Because you’re the ruler of Equestria, not a taxi service.”

Twilight opened her mouth to reply, but quickly closed it again. The dragon had a point. She closed her eyes for a second.

“Hargh, fine.” Twilight sighed, defeated. Spike smiled before standing and making for the door.

“Goodnight Twilight,” He said, opening it. “Try and get some sleep.”

Twilight watched him as he opened the door.

“Night night,” she said.

With a soft click the door closed, and Twilight was once again left alone with her thoughts. Spike was right, she wasn’t getting enough sleep. Now that she thought of it, when was the last time she woke up not feeling like she was about to die? When was the last time that dragging herself from her bedsheets hadn’t required an immense battle of will? She shook her head. And then there was the ‘statue’ problem. She scowled. She’d almost forgotten about that for a moment there. Then Spike’s words echoed in her mind. What if there was a solution to both of these problems? Another Princess, huh? Spike’s idle comment had fired a train of thought that was now in danger of becoming a runaway. Another Princess would solve the overworking problem Twilight thought, as she dove onto the bed and began to hoof the sheets over herself. Unfortunately, her Princess options were limited, to say the least. Celestia and Luna were both enjoying their retirement; Twilight daren’t ask either of them for help. Cadance was busy ruling the Crystal Empire, obviously, and Flurry Heart was still too young. So that was that, then. Twilight magically dimmed the lights and relished the sound of the rain. If only she could just ‘make’ another Princess, just like Celestia did with her...

Twilight sat bolt upright. Why couldn’t she, exactly? She was the ruler now, right? It was her right to offer the chance to ascend to anypony she saw fit, right? An impish smile spread across her face. All she needed to do would be cook up an adequate ‘challenge’...

‘Something like, say, helping out with the statue problem?’ A thought whispered in her mind.

Her smile became a grin. Ohh, that was a challenge alright. Completing a spell of Starswirl’s was one thing, but this... Princess fodder if ever she saw it. She lay back down, still smiling. This was going to require some planning, some lists, and some candidate selections. She had a pretty good feeling who was going to be at the top of the latter list though. Twilight slipped rapidly into one of the best nights’ sleep she’d had in some time.

Author's Note

Hi! Thanks for reading. I'm a bit new to all this, so going easy on it would be appreciated. Hopefully I will have new chapters up semi-regularly, but I'm not prepared to commit to any kind of schedule. Sorry about that. Hope you liked it!

2. In Your Dreams

The lobby of the school of friendship was alive with the sounds of the hustle and bustle of numerous students scrambling to make their next class. The enchanted translucent ceiling allowed the late-morning sun to flood the room, and the hanging drapes created shafts of light that revealed billowing particles in the air that ebbed and flowed in the golden warmth. The chatter of the students as they mingled and weaved about the pillars and busts reached the upper balcony where Starlight Glimmer stood. With a frown, she kicked at a miniscule stain on the navy carpet, patterned with swirls and stars (not all that dissimilar from her own cutie mark), and sipped at her green tea. The cup and saucer were enveloped in the familiar pale blue glow of her magic as she de-levitated the cup from her lips and placed it on the banister with a light tink.

“No running in the lobby please!” She called down, using her magic to slightly augment the volume of her voice. Down below, several students hopped in fright into a brisk walk, from what was a run. Starlight smiled. There were creatures from all corners of Equestria in attendance now; Yaks, Dragons, Changelings, Griffons, Hippogriffs, even a few Cows, Diamond Dogs, Cats and Zebras in the current term. All of them here to learn the nuances of friendship. Starlight found it quite moving; to think that so many disparate beings could be unified by one singular desire, a desire to understand, to be understood by each other as they navigate the tempestuous waters of existence, clinging to one another for support, companionship.

Say, that might look good on a plaque.

Starlight took another sip of tea and adjusted the lapels of her maroon blazer. With a pang of guilt, she remembered her old village that she’d once ruled with an iron hoof. Despite her misguided and more than a little despotic methods, all that she’d really wanted was unity, a sense of community. Here, she had that, but it was different, better, unity through diversity. More plaque ideas flooded her mind.

The last few stragglers appeared to have made it to their respective classes, and a serene silence once again fell across the grand hall. Starlight mentally went through her daily to-do list; review the faculty lesson plans, chair a staff meeting, review the permission slips for Apple Bloom’s field trip next week, liaise with the head of the PTA...

A familiar loud ‘bamph’ behind her knifed through her thoughts and instantly signaled to her that a powerful magic user had just teleported behind her. Instinctively she tensed, her mind instantly going into threat assessment, but she paused, rationalizing her thoughts. There were very few creatures capable of unassisted teleportation, and the sound of the spell told her that it was innate, not artifact magic. One of the former Princesses was possible, but unlikely. So too with Sunburst. They were the types to send a message before simply appearing. No, the most likely candidate would be somepony who was powerful, gifted, and scatterbrained enough to not write first. So that left...

“Twilight!” Starlight exclaimed with a smile, turning around to greet her mentor.

Twilight had appeared with outstretched wings, as was her typical teleportation stance. She was wearing her minimalist but regal golden crown, breastplate and shoes, and her purple and pink mane flowed ethereally in the warm air. Her eyes remained closed as she folded her wings to her back, and then she opened them, smiling a smile of her own.

“Starlight. It’s good to see you.”

“Did...did we have a meeting scheduled today?” Starlight enquired, a twinge of fear gripping her stomach.

“No, no,” Twilight replied. “This is an impromptu visit. There was something I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Starlight said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Shall we head to my office then?”

“That would be lovely.”

Starlight led the way down the main staircase, glancing over her shoulder at the Princess following behind.

“So you couldn’t have sent a note? I am quite a busy mare, you know.” Starlight mocked as they walked.

“Sorry,” Twilight replied sheepishly. “The truth is, I had something of an epiphany last night, and you’re the only pony I can talk to about it.”

“Well, this sounds intense. Colour me intrigued.”

The pair reached the foot of the stairs and Starlight led the Princess off to the left, weaving between the marble pillars. They passed under an ornate archway, and down a corridor lined with polished oak doors and framed pictures of teachers, both past and present. Twilight smiled as she passed the portraits of her closest friends, and she couldn’t help but pause at her own. She looked at the picture, then frowned at the reflection in the glass. When had she gotten so old?

Starlight glanced back at the Princess from several meters ahead, a knowing smile playing about her lips. Twilight snapped back to reality with a flustered clearing of her throat, and quickly trotted after her protégé. Finally they arrived at a door set with a frosted glass window that in black lettering bore the legend ‘Starlight Glimmer Headmare’. Starlight casually pushed the door open, and welcomed Twilight into her office. It was less cluttered than Twilight remembered, and Starlight’s desk had definitely received an upgrade, being as how it was now a solid slab of polished applewood. She had an extensive bookshelf to the right of her chair behind her desk, and a glass fronted display cabinet to the left, displaying various keepsakes, curios and tchotchkes. There was still elements of the familiar within the office though, Twilight noticed. Phyllis, Starlight’s potted plant, still had pride of place on the Headmare’s desk, there were still pictures of Starlight’s closest friends (Maud Pie and Trixie, though admittedly the pictures were now framed) and several box kites still hung from the ceiling.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” Starlight enquired as she strode around her desk. “I have tea, coffee, water...”

“No thank you, I’m fine.” Twilight said as she stepped across the luxurious carpet and took a padded chair opposite the desk.

“Phyllis,” Twilight smiled with a nod at the plant. “A pleasure as always.”

“Oh, actually, that’s Fern,” Starlight chimed, standing leaning against the back of her own chair. “Phyllis’ daughter. Phyllis is enjoying her retirement in my window box.”

Twilight shot her friend an incredulous look.

“Apologies.” She replied dryly.

With a wave of her hoof, Starlight wheeled her chair from under her desk and took a seat.

“Well, I’m sure it’s not the lineage of my plants that you wanted to talk about Twilight,” Starlight said, resting her elbows on the surface of her desk. “What’s on your mind?”

Twilight took a deep breath.

“I have a project that I want you to spearhead. What it is exactly I can’t tell you, not here. Just know that it’s highly classified, and potentially a matter of national security.”

Starlight’s eyebrows leapt up to greet her hairline.

“Well, you don’t beat about the bush, do you?”

Twilight blushed a little.

“Sorry. I probably should have gone through a few more pleasantries first, huh?”

“Uh, yeah, a little bit.” Starlight replied. She tapped her hooves together in thought. “Is this something that’s going to interfere with my duties as headmare?”

“Almost certainly,” Twilight said grimly. “You should have somepony on hoof to take over the school as and when needed.”

“For how long?”

“Impossible to say. At least a few months, I should think.”

Starlight reeled.

“This is a pretty big task you’re laying at my door, Twilight.” Starlight massaged her temples.

“It is.” Twilight said simply. “I won’t lie, it’s probably the biggest task I’ve ever asked anypony to do. But believe me when I say, I’ve thought about this very carefully, and you’re the only mare for the job.”

Starlight suddenly became acutely aware of the gravity of the situation. This wasn’t just a favor for a friend, this was a full blown task handed down by the ruler of Equestria, of the kind that Celestia used to pass on to Twilight herself. For a moment she was rendered speechless.

“Also, this will likely be too big a job for just yourself, so I’d like you to put together a short list of names of ponies who’ll be working under you. Obviously, this is all on a ‘need to know’ basis.” Twilight continued.

“I...uh...” Starlight stammered. This was big, and one heck of a thing to be dropped on her without warning this early in the morning. It wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet, for Celestia’s sake.

“I know this is a lot,” Twilight spoke soothingly, reaching across the desk and touching Starlight’s hoof with her own, “but I have every confidence you’ll make me proud.”

Starlight looked into Twilight’s eyes. There was the usual kindness and warmth she’d come to expect from her mentor, but there was something else there now too. Something that said ‘I know where you are right now. I’ve been there too.’ That look lit a fire of determination in her soul. This was a challenge she wasn’t going to back away from. Apart from anything else, if Twilight could do it, you could bet your bottom bit that she could too.

“Whatever you need,” Starlight said with a smile, regaining her composure.

Twilight returned her smile and retracted her hoof.

“Good,” she said, rising from her seat. “Well, I hate to dump all that on you and run, but I have some preparations to take care of.”

Starlight’s expression turned to confusion.

“Hold on, it’s going to pretty difficult to put together a list of names when I don’t even know what it is I’m supposed to be doing, you know?”

Twilight turned.

“I’m sure you already have some creatures in mind. I’d recommend using your friends; that’s what got me through everything Celestia ever threw at me.”

Starlight nodded.

“Besides,” Twilight continued, “I’ll be in touch later tonight. Somewhere where we can get right into the nitty-gritty details without fear of eavesdroppers.”

“O-ok,” Starlight replied, the insecurities returning somewhat. “Where? Just let me know and I’ll...”

“No need,” Twilight cut her off. “I’ll find you.”

With that cryptic last statement, the Princess of Friendship breezed out of Starlight’s office and was gone. A moment later, the sound of a teleport spell going off signaled that she had left the premises. Starlight slumped into her ergonomic chair and groaned uncertainly.

The late morning sun beat down upon Equestria, illuminating her green valleys, snow-capped mountains and shimmering silver and blue rivers. On the surface it was probably a balmy summer’s day, but where Spike was, it was just a little warmer than freezing. Not that Dragons felt the cold very much.

Just as well, Spike mused as he zipped through a fluffy cumulus. He adjusted his brass rimmed flight goggles, and brushed some ice crystals from his trousers. The glass in front of his eyes fogged, and he frantically swiped at them with a scaled finger. They were a gift from Rainbow Dash, and had proven themselves invaluable for all the flights he’d been taking. The lenses cleared, he took a look at the land sprawling out underneath him and gathered his bearings. The mountains were in front of him, just peeking out from the horizon. It meant it he still had an hour or so of flight ahead of him. He allowed a lungful of air to puff out of his relaxed lips. As was often the case with extended flights, he soon found that his mind began to wander. Yakyakistan, huh? Spike had meticulously studied what scant information there was on Twilight’s job sheet, and from what he could gather, there was a single Yak trader that had set up shop high in the Yakyakistan mountains, which technically put him just inside of the Dragon’s territory. Not too much of a bother, theoretically at least, just show up, flash the royal seal, and get him to move his stall all of six meters. Easy peasy, marinated in citrus juice. Then that left him in Yakyakistan, and look at that, a healthy number of personal days saved up and not much to do with them. And you know who else was in Yakyakistan...

Rarity! Excitement sent a charge of electricity through his stomach. It had been quite a while since he’d seen her. He’d caught glimpses of her, of course, the odd ‘hello’ when he’d passed her while she was visiting Twilight on their monthly get-togethers, but they hadn’t had any one-on-one time since...Celestia, it must have been years. Maybe he should start asking if he could be included in their little meetings, but he had his dignity, gosh darn it. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d asked Twilight to join him and the guys for Ogres & Oubliettes anytime recently.

Rarity! He wondered if she’d remember him. No, that was ridiculous, of course she’d remember him. He was little Spikey-wikey, right? The chivalrous young Dragon that would move mountains to help out his sister’s fabulous-best-friend despite his diminutive stature and limited capabilities. Not that he was so diminutive anymore. Or limited. He shifted his backpack around on his shoulder, adjusting it for the sake of comfort. To use it the way nature intended, i.e. over both shoulders, would interfere with his wings, and could very well prove fatal. It wasn’t particularly heavy; all he had in it was his job description, a pillow and thin blanket, a spare pair of trousers, some snacking gems, and of course Rarebear. He’d almost left home without her, Twilight’s gentle ribbing still fresh in his mind, he’d even made it out of the door to his bedroom without her, but something dragged him back, and he quickly stuffed her in the bag’s front pocket. Old habits died hard, he guessed. He needed to snuggle something at night, for Celestia’s sake. Still not comfy, he shifted the bag again with a frustrated grunt. Of course, the really smart thing to do would be to wear the thing backwards, over both shoulders covering his chest, like some kind of makeshift papoose, but he just couldn’t get over how uncool it made him look. Sometimes sacrifices were required for fashion. Rarity would appreciate that, he thought with a smirk.

Rarity! He couldn’t wait to see her. Of course, nothing was going to happen. He’d often toyed with the idea of revealing his feelings to her over the years, but he’d come to the conclusion that no good would come of it. She knew anyway, right? She knew. He remembered (exquisitely, due to the embarrassment) the time when he’d become giant and feral due to greed, and he’d taken her like she was a possession, he’d almost spilled his guts then, right when he snapped back to his old self. She’d silenced him with a gentle hoof to his lips. She knew. So did everypony else, he thought with a scowl. It was one thing when he was a child, but now...was this particular fixation starting to border on the...creepy (for lack of a better word) side of things? The thought made his blood run cold. No, no, surely not. If that were the case, somepony would have told him, right? She would have told him. Rarity was fabulosity incarnate, there were undoubtedly a line of creatures longer than one of Twilight’s to-do lists who were enamored with her, it was a statistical certainty that she would have had to have given a few of them the polite brush off over the years. Or maybe not. It was one thing when it was the unwanted attentions of some stranger your own age, quite another when it’s your best friend’s little brother. Who happens to be adopted. And a dragon. He shivered a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. He made a deal with himself; when he saw her in Yakyakistan, if he saw her, he’d play it cool. You know, just say hello, ask how the business was doing, small talk-y type of stuff. Her reaction and body language should tell him everything he’d need to know. If he got a frosty reception, then it was time to lay this unrequited love to rest and move on with his life. Celestia, he hoped that wasn’t the case. Please Celestia, let that not be the case...

Rarity! Speaking of giving someone the brush off, he remembered too the time that that odious travel writer, Trenderhoof had breezed into town. She’d practically offered herself on a silver platter to that stallion but he didn’t want to know, he only had eyes for Applejack. What an idiot! What a buffoon! What a chump! At the time Spike had been torn between breathing a huge sigh of relief and grabbing the gormless specimen by his over-starched lapels and shaking some sense into him. Mercifully, he hadn’t done that, but the urge was undeniable. The thought raised a good point though, he had no idea if she was still single. In all honesty, the smart bits said probably not. She was a high-society fashionista with the full force of a clothing empire behind her, one who regularly fraternized with some of the most eligible bachelors in all of Equestria. The idea that she wouldn’t be seeing somepony...well, it was remote, to say the least. Spike’s stomach lurched. This flight was beginning to turn into something of a rollercoaster, emotionally speaking. He took a few deep breaths. Well, if that were the case, refer back to the ‘frosty reception’ pathway. He was starting to understand that this trip was most likely where this little fantasy of his died. A small, cold ball of despair welled up in his chest, but he beat his wings nonetheless. Well, if that were the case, so be it. He’s admired her from afar this long, he could do it some more. Besides, nothing was going to happen anyway, he reminded himself. She’d always be special to him, and that was enough. He’d always have rare-bear, he thought grimly as he clenched a fist around his backpack strap. Also, if this was where the fantasy died, then fine, but it wasn’t quite dead yet.

Rarity...

The purple shape streaked though the cyan sky towards his final destination on one of the remote peaks of the jagged mountains.

Starlight sat nervously and rearranged her desk for the third or fourth time. It was late, the mare-in-the moon clearly visible from her office window, and with each passing second the Headmare was growing more and more fretful.

‘I’ll find you,’ she thought for fourth or fifth time. ‘What the heck does that even mean? I haven’t gone anywhere.’

She span herself around in her swivel chair for a few rotations before pushing her hooves against her desk and boosting herself backwards several feet. Then she had the indignity of having to waddle back to her desk. There was little on it, just her name plate, a writing pad and pen, a Newton’s cradle and of course Fern. Starlight reached into her bottom right drawer and retrieved a small spray bottle that she misted her plant with for the fifth or sixth time. What had Twilight meant, exactly? Where would the Princess find her where they couldn’t be eavesdropped upon? Was this a test? Some sort of puzzle she was supposed to solve? That did sound like Twilight. But if that were the case, what was she supposed to do? She had nothing to go on. Where in Equestria was safe from magical interference? Tartarus? She wasn’t going there, even if she had a key to get in.

Starlight slammed her fore-hooves down on the desk, making Fern jump in her pot, rose from her chair and paced to the window, for the sixth or seventh time. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to see when she looked out of it, but she’d been hoping for some sort of sign, a pointer to nudge her in the right direction. She saw nothing, save for her own stressed reflection and the bright, misty, full moon. The effigy of Nightmare Moon was just as well defined as it had always been, a remnant of a by-gone age. She’d heard the stories when she was a filly, though she’d never paid them much attention. An old mare’s tale, nothing more. How curious that in her lifetime, Nightmare Moon had gone from scary story to frighten foals, to a horrifying reality, to Princess Luna, beloved and respected (and now retired) joint-ruler. Not that any of that was helpful right now. She sighed, her breath fogging up the window pane, before slinking back to her chair. She tapped the Newton’s cradle (for the seventh or eighth time) and allowed the rapid clicking noise to assault her ears. She’d give it ten more minutes, after that she was going home and getting in bed, Princess or no. She was a busy mare with a school to run, for Celestia’s sake.

That thought dragged her to the one thing she hadn’t really wanted to think about; just what the heck was it that Twilight wanted her to do that required this much security? Starlight could conjure up a privacy spell, complete with physical force-field barrier and soundproofing with ease, and such was her prowess that there weren’t many in Equestria that could break through it. In fact, was there anyone? Discord, maybe. Starlight crumpled up her face. That pain in the flank. Is he what had the Princess spooked? The Draconequus mostly limited himself to fawning over his unofficial wife and terrorizing his O&O group, but it wasn’t unheard of, even these days, for him to stick his oar into official state business and make trouble. Usually when he had an ill-conceived point he was trying to make. So what was it that Twilight had in mind for her?

It was pointless to speculate. She’d know more when she talked to Twilight again, whenever that might be. But with this amount of caution, it was safe to assume that it was big. Maybe it was to do with...

There were three light raps of a hoof on Starlight’s door. The mare jolted upright in her chair, performed a last-minute check of her desktop furniture, silenced the cradle, and cleared her throat.

“Come in?” She said in a voice that she hoped sounded inviting and not at all freaked-out. The door opened a crack, and a white and sky-blue mane framing a mischievous face popped around it.

“The grrrreat-and-powerful Trixie saw your light was still on. Working late? Time for a break?”

The immediate tension left Starlight’s body. She opened her mouth to say something, but the blue mare beat her to it.

“I brought appletinis!” She said, her horn glowing light blue, and a bottle and two cocktail glasses floated across the threshold. Starlight eyeballed the bottle.

“Get in here.”

One swift explanation and several swift drinks later, Starlight reclined in her chair while Trixie lounged in one of the headmare’s guest chairs, her hind legs propped up on the desk. Starlight glanced disapprovingly at the guidance counselor's hooves, but had long since given up passing comment on Trixie’s slovenly behavior.

“So that’s it then?” Trixie asked, folding her front legs.

“Yep, that’s it.” Starlight replied, toying with the mostly empty appletini bottle.

Trixie chuckled, shaking her head whilst looking away. She sucked some air through her teeth with a light squeaking noise.

“This is so like her,” She muttered. “No thought to who she’s dumping on. Just as long as her ‘research opportunities’ are satisfied.”

Trixie emphasized the words ‘research opportunities’ with an unflattering Twilight Sparkle impression. Starlight tried to suppress a giggle but failed miserably, sending it through her nose with a snort instead. Trixie looked over at her friend with a satisfied grin, while Starlight attempted to regain her composure.

“So what should I do now?” Starlight asked, wiping at her nose with her hoof.

Trixie stared at her blankly and shrugged.

“I dunno. Nothing?”

“Oh, you’re a massive help.” Starlight muttered sarcastically.

“No, I’m serious,” Trixie continued, her voice taking on a stern edge. “Twilight came to you, not the other way around. Remember, you’re the one doing her a favor, whether she’s the Princess of Equestria or not.”

Starlight abandoned the appletini bottle and looked at her friend. Her usual, slightly smug smile, was gone, replaced by an intense look of earnest honesty. Her big purple eyes were large and unblinking, and for a moment, Starlight found herself lost in them. After a second that spanned an eternity, she mentally shook herself out of it.

“So I should just wait for Twilight to contact me?”

“The ball’s on her side of the buckball field,” Trixie replied. “So yes, you should just wait. But more importantly, you should relax and stop worrying.”

Starlight looked down at her tabletop, poking at her note pad with a hoof-tip.

“You’re one heck of a guidance counselor, you know that?”

“The best the School of Friendship’s ever seen.” Trixie smirked.

“Yes, I suppose you’re - HEY!” Starlight started, before picking up on the veiled insult that had been tossed her way. Trixie’s smirk intensified, and Starlight couldn’t help but laugh at her best friend’s jibe. This in turn caused Trixie to laugh, and within moments they were both giggling just like old times. Upon regaining her composure, Starlight picked up the bottle, and split the last of the contents between their glasses.

“Thanks. I really needed that.” She said, pushing Trixie’s glass across the desk to her friend. “The relaxing is going to take some doing though. I’m wound up tighter than a cuckoo clock.”

“Ooo, The Great and Powerful Trixie can help with that too,” Trixie chuckled giddily. “How about a massage? Trixie has magic hooves!”

Starlight leaned back in her chair, before sinking the remains of her drink and shrugging.

“What the heck. Anything to get my mind off this Twilight thing.”

Trixie grinned that grin of hers, rose from her chair, and trotted around Starlight’s desk and behind her chair. Presently, she felt hooves connected to silky-smooth fore-legs pass by either side of her head, and rest firmly on her withers. Starlight sharply drew in her breath as Trixie began to dig her hooves into her flesh, which then escaped back past her lips in a low groan of pleasure.

“Hoooooo....” The headmare commented.

“See? I told you.” Trixie’s smug voice rang in her ears. As the guidance counselor continued to work at her neck and upper back, Starlight allowed her eyes to roll back in her head slightly.

“You know, Twilight told me that this ‘project’, whatever it is, is definitely going to cut into my duties as Headmare.” Starlight mumbled, in-between gasps and grunts. “That being the case, I want y-ah! ...you to take my place.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to be the greatest Headmare the school has ever seen too,” Trixie whispered in her ear. “Enough about Twilight now. You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

“Right you ar-reee!”

Trixie leaned forward, as she slid her hooves down Starlight’s back. In turn, Starlight scooched her butt forward in her chair to allow the blue mare better access. As she did so, she felt a soft cheek brush against her own. The headmare opened her eyes, and was met with a strand of silver hair right in her field of vision. She immediately noticed the smell of it; like a summer meadow, and she found herself briefly intoxicated by it. Twisting in her chair, she turned her head to get a better look at her friend, and was soon met with those huge purple eyes once again. Starlight felt a pump of excitement in her chest, for reasons she couldn’t quite articulate. The mischievous smirk once again played on Trixie’s face, as she glided her hooves around Starlight’s body to her chest.

“Hey.” The cyan mare said simply.

“Hey.” Starlight replied, the feeling of excitement intensifying.

Agonizingly slowly, Trixie closed the mere inches gap between their faces until their lips met, and before Starlight knew it she was kissing her best friend. Her eyes closed once again, and she felt Trixie’s tongue enter her mouth and wrap around her own. Enthusiastically, Starlight returned the kiss, and semi-consciously reached one hoof up to caress Trixie’s cheek. The mares explored each other’s mouths for several more seconds before breaking off, panting, their faces touching nose-to-nose. For a few brief moments, a saliva strand connected their lips before dissappearing. Starlight once again lost herself in those amazing eyes, while Trixie, without breaking her gaze, or allowing her smile to falter, slid her hoof over Starlight’s chest, and began to slowly pop the buttons of her shirt apart. Starlight felt an electrical charge run through her body, and she began to feel hot, as the excitement settled in her crotch. Trixie kissed her once again as the last of her shirt buttons fell to her probing hoof, and now, her upper body exposed, the counselor deepened her kiss and leaned even further forward, until her hoof met the waistline of Starlight’s skirt. Trixie broke off the kiss and Starlight gasped as she did so, as Trixie looked down to better focus on what she was doing, as her hoof gently slid under the waistband, softly caressing Starlight’s lower belly, continuing lower, straight towards her eager...

There was a cough from the other side of the room.

“I’m just going to announce myself now, before this goes any further.”

Starlight gasped, this time out of sheer panic. Her eyes flicked open, and after taking a split second to focus, she saw Twilight Sparkle standing in the far corner. She was blushing heavily, partially hiding her face behind an outstretched wing.

“Twilight!” Starlight practically shouted. “What’re you...I mean, Trixie and I were just, uh....”

Amid the blind panic and embarrassment, a small part of Starlight’s brain told her that it sure was strange that the Princess hadn’t bothered to knock, or that she hadn’t heard the door open, or a teleport spell go off for that matter. She cast her eyes back to Trixie, hoping for some kind of guidance, only for the blue mare to roll her lips inward in an expression depicting ‘Sorry, buddy’, before she shrugged her shoulders and ethereally faded from existence.

“Wh-what?!” Starlight spluttered, scrabbling to sit up in her chair. As she did so, the room and all of its contents faded away too. Soon all that remained were herself, her chair, and Twilight Sparkle in an inky black featureless void. She shot Twilight a panicked look, who was still looking intensely uncomfortable, but strangely illuminated, despite there being no visible light source. It was only then that the full horror of the situation dawned on Starlight.

“A dream.” She moaned, clasping her hooves to her eyes.

Author's Note

Dunno if I should kick up the rating to 'M' because of this? How suggestive is 'too suggestive'? Advice welcome. Anyway, hope you liked!

3. Of all the Yak Bars in all the World, She Trots into Mine

The lonely dragon trudged through the foot deep snow as the blizzard howled around him. It was almost pitch dark, the only way that he could navigate was by the faint glow of the village ahead. He was heading up a gentle incline, and he thanked his lucky stars that it wasn’t more sheer than it was. The faint flecks of snow whipped in front of his eyes and he found that if he focused on them for too long it created a mesmerizing effect that made him feel dizzy. Instead, he tried to keep his eyes fixed on the silhouettes of the thatched hut-tops against the glow of numerous torchlights and at least one bonfire.

“Come on Spike,” He muttered to himself. “Just a little further.”

The wind snatched the words from his lips as soon as he’d spoken them, and if it wasn’t for the inner monologue running through his mind, he might’ve been convinced he’d never uttered them at all. Despite being able to see the village he was still at least a good ten minutes' walk away, and although his kind were resistant to the cold, he knew he had to find shelter, and fast. He’d long since removed his blanket from his backpack, and he clutched it around his shoulders, though it offered precious little protection against the elements. In retrospect, it had been foolish of him to go gallivanting off to Yakyakistan without so much as a coat or a pair of boots, but then, he hadn’t expected to be travelling anywhere at night. He gritted his teeth against the cold. Easy peasy marinated in citrus juice his ass. He’d forgotten how stubborn and arrogant Yaks could be. What an idiot he’d been for expecting that all it would take would be a flash of the royal seal to get that flea-bitten trader to move. It had taken hours of negotiation, persuasion and veiled threats to convince him, and he’d still have to have a follow-up meeting to ensure that their final agreement had stuck. Now it was the dead of night, he was forced to walk to the nearest village in desperate search of sanctuary, and what was somehow worse, he’d lost a day of being able to drop in on Rarity. Oh well. He’d waited this long. Spike wiped at his goggles, once again mentally thanking his super-sonic friend for her gift. Of course, he could be at the Yak village within thirty seconds by flight, but he daren’t, not in these conditions. He wasn’t a bad flyer, but he reckoned that Rainbow Dash herself would have difficulty in this. Grimly he continued his slow but steady pace, eyes fixed dead head on his destination.

By the time he actually approached the gates of the village he was physically shivering, something that he couldn’t remember ever having happened to him before. The two guard Yaks on either side of the open wooden gate regarded him with mild curiosity, and despite the bitter cold Spike allowed his blanket to fall open at the front, and he made both of his palms visible, showing the Yaks that he was unarmed, and not looking for trouble. One of the guards gave a low whistle when they saw his bare chest.

“Huh. Dragon made of tough stuff.” He said once Spike had stepped within earshot. “Yaks like that. Tourist?”

“I, uh...yeah.” Spike replied feebly. It wasn’t technically true, but he really wasn’t in the mood for a long conversation about why he was really in Yakyakistan. His eyes were drawn past the guardsyaks, down the path to what looked like the village square, where right in the middle there raged a huge bonfire, twice his height. He eyeballed it longingly, the dancing flames reflected in his emerald eyes. The Yaks looked him up and down for what felt like an eternity. They were both brown furred, their eyes obscured by their long, braided hair. Each of them wore canvas straps around their midriff which suspended a scabbarded short sword, and each of them blew plumes of steam into the frigid air as they breathed. Their huge horns glistened in the torch light as they moved their heads up and down, thoroughly inspecting the purple dragon. Spike wasn’t sure how they could even see him though their fur, but apparently see him they most assuredly did. He was about to speak to try and convince them to let him pass, but the rightmost Yak beat him to it.

“Dragon welcome.” He said in a gruff but welcoming tone. “Yaks best hosts. This best Yak village. Home of Prince Rutherford!”

“Thank you,” Spike breathed, forcing his teeth not to chatter as he spoke. He stepped forward, and was just about to cross the threshold, when the other Yak held across a foreleg to block his progress.

“Dragon no cause trouble,” He warned, gesturing to his sword with a mighty horn. “Dragon regret it if do.”

“I won’t.” Spike pleaded. “I promise.”

The Yak nodded, satisfied. He lowered his leg, and Spike half walked, half jogged down the ramshackle street to the sweet, sweet warmth of the bonfire.

The Dragon bounded down the gravelly pathway, not really taking in his surroundings. Various mud and straw huts with thatched roofs blurred past his peripheral vision, but all of his attention was focused on the fire in front of him. After a few more moments of labored running, he was there, and he felt his cold skin get the tingle of warmth from the flames. There were two rings of logs around it, the outer one had gaps of several feet between each one, and Spike supposed that these were makeshift benches for creatures to perch on to heat themselves for a few minutes. There was nocreature about right now though, and Spike couldn’t say he blamed them. The inner ring of logs contained no gaps and was only a meter away from the raging inferno, probably as a low-key safety feature. Spike snorted a laugh as he dropped his backpack and blanket on the ground, before stepping over the inner ring. Clearly, they weren’t laid here with Dragons in mind. Once he was over and had taken a step and half towards the flames he began to feel like his old self once again. The shivering ceased, and the feeling began to come back into his hands and feet. He sighed a sigh that was one-part relief, one-part contentment. He faced the fire for a few minutes, before rotating his body so he could toast his back. OK, then. Now what?

The Dragon blew out a lungful of steam and looked around the dimly lit streets. There were lit torches at the corners and at regular intervals thereafter, but so far all he had seen was row after row of dark huts. There were a few that had the suggestion of lamplight coming from their curtained windows, but they weren’t of much help. Everything he was seeing was telling him that these were all private dwellings. There had to be a hotel or something somewhere, didn’t there? Tartarus, he’d take a shed at this point. He took a tiny stroll around the circumference of the fire, just to see if he could see anything promising on the other side. He glanced around, and then found what he was looking for. There was a hut over on the far corner that was maybe twice as large as the rest, with saloon style doors and a hanging sign outside that he couldn’t make out at this distance, but it was a safe bet that it was a pub or tavern of some sort. Right then, he had a plan. Head over there, get something substantial to eat, and, if he was lucky, get a room for the night at the very least. He was about to turn back to retrieve his belongings, when an odd acrid smell entered his nostrils. What was that? Where was it coming from? It was getting more pronounced by the second. If it was the fire, why hadn’t he smelt it before? Then he looked down, and with horror he realized that his trousers were beginning to smolder.

“Oh, Celestia damn it!” He cursed under his breath as he leapt back over the inner ring of logs and began to frantically pat down his legs.

After inventing some new kind of Yakyakistan-Dragon dance and no doubt profoundly amusing any creature that happened to look his way, Spike huffily pushed open the doors to the tavern. The smell of stale booze and Yak hit him like a slap to the face, but he endured through gritted teeth. Once he’d gotten closer and had a chance to take a look, the sign outside had proclaimed the establishment to be ‘The Smashed Barrel’, so he was on the money with his earlier assumption. Inside the dimly lit-by-lamplight room, he could see that the whole building seemed to be just one big room filled with numerous tables with a circular open fireplace in the center. Over the fire there hung a large cauldron where something bubbled merrily inside. On the far side of the room there was a bar top, with a single Yak behind it. There were Yaks at various tables, but the tavern was at less than half capacity. None of the other patrons seemed to pay Spike much attention. He doubted Dragons were commonplace around these parts, but at least with the age of peace that Twilight and the gang had helped to usher in, they weren’t too much of a novelty. Spike weaved in between the tables, picking his way over the hay and sawdust strewn floor towards the bar. Once there he leaned against it, and the bar-Yak turned to face him, but said nothing. Spike produced a small coin purse from his pocket.

“I, uh, don’t suppose you take Equestrian bits, do you?” He said, holding open the purse. The Yak pulled aside a braid of hair and peered inside.

“I look like Pony to you?”

Spike sighed and re-pocketed his purse. He lifted his backpack and placed it on the bar top. Reaching inside, he retrieved his bag of snacking gems and spilled a few out.

“How about these?” he asked miserably. The Yak produced a jeweler's loupe from somewhere and began scrutinizing one of the rubies that had spilt from Spike’s bag.

“Hmm...” The Yak pondered. “These do nicely. What having?”

Spike glanced around the room, not really having thought this far ahead. Every other Yak in this place seemed to be swigging from wooden tankards.

“Just...one of what every-yak else is having, please.” He said finally. The bar-yak nodded sagely.

“Yak mead. Best in Yakyakistan!”

Spike nodded, then gestured in the direction of the bubbling pot in the middle of the room.

“What’s in that?

“Yak stew. Best in Yakyakistan!”

“No kidding.” Spike replied flatly. “I’ll take some of that too, I’m starved.”

The Yak separated a depressingly large number of gems from Spike’s bag, then slapped a wooden spoon and bowl in front of the Dragon.

“Help self,” he said simply, as he began pulling on one of the bar’s pump handles.

A few moments later, a tankard filled with a dark amber liquid joined the spoon and bowl. Spike retrieved what was left of his gems, grabbed his drink and bowl, and marched to the cauldron. He grabbed the ladle that was hanging off the pot handle and stirred it around in the earthy green mixture. A few cubed chunks of unknown matter bubbled to the surface. Visually it wasn’t the most appetizing thing he’d ever laid eyes on, but the smell that was wafting up from the cauldron wasn’t unappealing. Root vegetables with a hint of some spice that the Dragon couldn’t identify. He shrugged and filled his bowl with two ladle scoops. That done, he selected a table for himself in an as out of the way place as possible; next to the wall, a few tables down from the bar. He took a seat on a rickety chair and tried a spoonful of his meal. He was right it, was root vegetables, potatoes, turnips, parsnips, but it had an edge of chili peppers behind it too. He didn’t know about ‘best ever’, but honestly it wasn’t bad at all. He tucked in hungrily, and before long the bowl had been licked clean. As his grateful stomach settled, he took another look around the room. It dawned on him for the first time, this hut was just that; one big room. Which meant that he wasn’t getting a bed for the night, not here at least. He scowled and took a swig from his tankard. As the sweet liquid flowed down his throat, he retrieved his gem bag. Nearly half of them were gone already, and he’d only had one drink and a bowl of stew. He sucked air through his teeth and wracked his brain trying to think of what to do. OK, so assuming that none of the locals were interested in bits, there was no way he could afford a room anywhere. He tapped his foot in annoyance. Right then, he had only one option. He would return to the guard Yaks, flash the royal seal, explain who he was, and formally request sanctuary from the Yak kingdom. He’d have to pray that they recognized and respected the seal when they saw it, but if they did, then he shouldn’t have any problems getting somewhere to sleep. He might have to do some serious name-dropping to get them to listen, maybe bring up that time he brokered peace between the Yaks and the Dragons. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the best he had.

As he was sitting pondering his situation, the saloon doors on the opposite side of the room were pushed open with a soft creak. Spike glanced in their direction and ended up performing the double take to end all double takes. Rarity breezed into the bar, tapping some snow from her rear hooves as she crossed the doorway. She looked radiant, as ever, dressed in her flowing blue cloak trimmed with white imitation fur that matched her helmet style hat. The fur of it covered her ears, but allowed her horn to protrude, a fact that was signaled as it glowed a pale blue as she magically removed her saddle bags that bore a facsimile of her cutie mark and laid them out on a nearby table. Spike could only look in open mouthed awe as she took a seat, not ten meters away from him, and removed her headwear, allowing her purple curls to cascade out of it. She carefully laid the hat next to her bags and glanced around the room. Mercifully, she did not look in the Dragon’s direction, so Spike was free to observe her undetected for a few more moments. She had a single streak of grey running through her mane these days, a perfect band that ran from root to tip. Spike remembered the fuss that had been kicked up when that had started to appear; her friends had had to rally around her and constantly reassure her that it was not, in fact, a blemish; rather it gave her an air of gracefulness, a look of experience, rather distinguished. Spike wholeheartedly agreed, though admittedly he was somewhat biased. From where he was sitting, he thought it looked like the cutest thing he’d ever seen. The white Unicorn fiddled with her bag, and for an awful moment he thought she might be retrieving her purse so she could get up and order something. If she were to get up and head to the bar now she’d definitely spot him, and he wasn’t quite ready for that. He needed some kind of opening, something classy, understated. Something she’d appreciate. Fortunately for him, what she pulled from her bag appeared to be a sketchpad, which she flipped open and began to scribble in, magically manipulating a pencil that had been fished out of the pad’s ringlets. She was taking discreet glances at the Yaks who were close by, and Spike realized that she was most likely drawing outfit ideas. She was completely engrossed in her work, allowing her lower lip to protrude outwards as she lost herself in thought. Spike felt the familiar electrical charge of excitement in his belly as he watched, and he knew that this was the best chance he had to go and talk to her. But how? The question bounced around his mind for a few moments whilst he allowed himself a few more glorious seconds of just staring at her. Over the years, from time to time, he’d asked himself the question; did he really have feelings for her, or was this a childish infatuation that he’d just never quite been able to shake? Seeing her now, bathed in the yellow and orange glow of the firelight, he knew he had his answer. She was still doodling in her pad, her sky-blue eyes flitting from the page to the Yaks around her, the tip of her tongue just beginning to escape the corner of her mouth in concentration. Spike felt his heart melt. In the back of his mind, he was dimly aware of the unfairness of it all, of how highly unlikely it was that she’d ever see him the way he saw her. But that was a thought for another time. Right now he had better things to focus on. Like on how he was going to strike up a conversation. He snapped back to reality. Just then, luckily for him, inspiration struck. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards in a sly smile as he grabbed the remains of his gem bag and slinked quietly out of his chair. He crept to the bar, hoping against hope that he wasn’t too noticeable, and that Rarity hadn’t yet spotted him.

“What’s the fanciest drink you’ve got in this place?” He asked in a low voice.

“Yak sparkling wine! Best in...”

Spike silenced the barkeep by raising a finger to his lips.

“...Yakyakistan.” The Yak finished with a whisper, which by Yak standards probably put him somewhere comparable to normal speaking volume.

“OK, I’ll have a glass of that, and can you take it to the Unicorn sitting over there?” Spike asked, without turning around.

The Yak tilted to one side to look past the dragon, then tilted back.

“You know, Yak not normally work tables.”

Spike slammed his gem bag onto the bar top with a soft thud. The Yak nodded in agreement, and slid the gems, bag and all, under the bar.

There was a long silence. Followed by a second long silence. Succeeded by a third long silence. Universes formed and died. Ice ages began and ended. Civilizations rose and fell.

Twilight slowly lowered her wing from her face and uncurled her hooves from the dark void beneath her. Starlight sat unmoving in her chair; her hooves still pressed to her eyes. Twilight silently cursed herself. Why hadn’t she just left? She probably could have slipped out without being noticed, couldn’t she? In the heat of the moment she’d panicked, and she’d been about two seconds away from seeing something that she wouldn’t be able to unsee. Her face was still flushed, so she allowed herself a few moments of controlled breathing, in the hopes that she’d be able to persuade the blood in her cheeks to head somewhere else. That done, she strolled over to Starlight, who still hadn’t moved. Twilight was grateful for the fact that there wasn’t a physical floor, so her approach was silent. With a wave of her hoof, Starlight’s desk faded back into existence, complete with a chair for Twilight. The Princess willed the chair out from the desk and plopped herself into it soundlessly. Still Starlight hadn’t moved. Should...should she just leave? No, no, that would be even worse somehow. It might imply that Twilight was disgusted by what she saw, or that the Headmare was right to be humiliated, somehow. Not that Twilight herself wouldn’t be in Starlight’s shoes, oof. Tartarus, what little she had seen had given her secondhand embarrassment that she’d probably feel for years to come.

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but inspiration failed her. She closed it again, as quietly as she could. Should she act like nothing had happened? That would be silly, but maybe under the circumstances it would be the best way forward.

“So Trixie, huh?” The Princess blurted out. Nice going, Twilight, she mentally admonished herself.

Starlight ripped her hooves from her face, her eyes too wide and smile too broad to be sane.

“Twilight!” Starlight cooed, hastily rebuttoning her shirt into the wrong holes. “I didn’t realize that this is what you meant when you said you’d find me.”

“Uh, yeah.” Twilight replied sheepishly. “I probably should have mentioned. I patrol the dream realm now, so...”

The Princess trailed off, awkwardly tapping her hooves together. There was a pause that was in its third trimester.

“Yes, I can see that.” Starlight said, her voice still too loud and cheerful. “Well, I’m ready to discuss this project you have for me!”

“Uhhh...” Twilight responded. “Maybe we should talk about what just happened first.”

Starlight’s expression darkened.

“No, we absolutely should not.”

“It’s just that this type of thing could be indicative of unresolved feelings. If you don’t mind my asking, is this a dream you’ve encountered before?”

Starlight looked away for a moment.

“Once or twice,” She mumbled softly, before she snapped to her senses. “No, no, we’re not doing this!”

“Starlight...”

“It’s just one of those things! Sometimes you have sex dreams about ponies you know! It doesn’t mean anything!”

“Right, but...”

“Plus, I’ve been working very hard lately, and I’ve been stressed out about this project thing, it’s no wonder I’m having weird dreams!” Starlight rose from her chair and gesticulated wildly.

“I’m sorry about that,” Twilight said quietly, looking up at her. “But have you considered the possibility that you might be in love with Trixie?”

Starlight froze, her expression settling somewhere between amusement and outrage.

“I... AM... NOT!” She half shouted, half laughed.

“Ok,” Twilight said as soothingly as she could, trying to introduce some serenity to the room. “It’s just you two have been really close for a while now, and the thought had occurred to me at least that you might be a little more than friends. I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

“How have I given you that impression?!” Starlight sat back down in her chair and leaned over the desk, glaring at the Princess.

“Well, you girls always hang out together, you went on that caravan trip together...”

“Oh, you mean the one where we almost killed each other?” Starlight interjected.

“...you two bicker. Like, all the time. Like you’re married.”

“All things that are comparable to things you’ve done with your friends in the past. Are you seriously going to sit there and tell me that you’ve never had an accidental erotic dream about one of your friends?”

Twilight’s expression remained neutral, but her eye twitched almost imperceptibly.

“We’re not talking about me.” She sniffed.

A faint, humorless smile flashed across Starlight’s face for the briefest of moments. Then she took a deep breath before letting it out slowly.

“Twilight, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. And it really means a lot to me that you care about me so much that you want to help me work through my feelings. But please believe me when I say, your assistance in this matter is neither wanted nor required.”

The Headmare fixed Twilight with a steely stare. Twilight narrowed her eyes at her, before sighing.

“Fine. We’ll stick a pin in this for now, but we are coming back to it.”

Starlight gave the slightest roll of her eyes.

“So then, to business?”

“To business.”

Rarity clenched her jaw as she furiously scribbled down outfit ideas into her pad. So far, Rarity 4 U Yakyakistan had been a bust. She had an excellent location, right in the heart of the ‘capital’, Prince Rutherford’s village, and the establishment was of the finest building materials that the Yaks had to offer. She’d tried to offer Yak approximations of the most popular lines from both her Canterlot and Manehatten stores, but so far, no Yak was buying. She scowled. Rugged traditionalists didn’t even begin to describe Yak tastes. Honestly, they wouldn’t know fabulous if it burned down their huts and stole their potatoes. Everything had to be brown, dark brown, light brown, terracotta, beige (if they felt like really pushing the boat out). Earth tones, blech. If one of them saw the colour purple, she honestly thought it might cause a heart attack. She re-focused her attention on the Yak mare sitting several tables away. She was sitting with a friend, gutturally laughing at something or other, slapping her hoof on the table-top repeatedly. She was wearing what looked like a woven shawl over her back, brown and white (surprise, surprise) with black piping around the edges. It appeared to be made of a coarse, hessian-like fabric, no doubt in order to weather the frankly absurd Yakyakistan climate, and it looked extremely itchy, not the kind of thing you’d want to feel close to your body. Not that that was much of a concern to the Yaks of course, their fur being as thick as it was. Rarity grumbled under her breath. That was something else she had to worry about when considering Yak fashion; whatever she designed had to be able to survive sub-zero temperatures, and ideally offer at least some modicum of protection. With every ensemble the Unicorn had ever designed, practicality usually ranked pretty low on the list of requirements. That school of thought was much more Applejack’s territory. Her mind briefly flitting to her orange friend, Rarity suddenly had a flash of inspiration. What about something in gingham? It was rustic, it was colourful, it was thin, but it shouldn’t be too hard to pad out for a winter climate. Winter gingham? That was just crazy enough to work. With a demented smile, she sketched a frilly dress on her hastily drawn Yak body template. Now, onto the hair. The Yak she was observing had hers tied in elaborate braids and loops, secured by bows and ribbons, in much the same way that her old student Yona used to have. Perhaps if she were to introduce something floral into the mix? Maybe give the impression that the hair was tied up with flowers rather than ribbon? She liked that, that was good. It would go well with the summer motif the fabric of the dress was suggesting. She could call the line ‘Summer in Winter’. Ok, now she was getting somewhere. Of course, the flowers would have to be...

There was a loud sound of a Yak clearing his throat just above her. Rarity looked up with a start; was she about to be told she had to order something or get out? At the risk of sounding disparaging, ordinarily this type of ‘spit and sawdust’ establishment wasn’t the type of place she’d frequent, a fact that was brought to the forefront of her mind as she curled her hooves on the hay-strewn floorboards. However, this type of place was one of the best locations for her to observe her clientele undetected, so frequent she must. She quickly threw on her best ‘innocent and vulnerable, but also ravishingly beautiful and sultry’ expression. To her surprise, a flute of sparkling wine was gently placed on the table in front of her by the hulking bar-Yak.

“Oh!” She exclaimed. “I’m terribly sorry, that’s not mine, I didn’t order that.”

She batted her eyelids sweetly at her waiter. Funny, she hadn’t thought this tavern actually waited tables.

“Comes compliments of gentle-Dragon over there,” He replied, pointing past the roaring fire in the general direction of the bar. “Him humbly request he might join you at your table.”

Rarity squinted in the direction the Yak was gesturing, her vision obscured by the licking flames. At first all she could see was a bulky silhouette of what was evidently a dragon perched on a bar stool. After a few seconds of her eyes adjusting, with some added help of a hoof raised to her brow, she began to make out some details; shiny purple scales, muscular build, green spikes...

“Spike?” She said softly. “Spike!”

The second ‘Spike’ had an edge of joyous recognition to it, as she rapidly beckoned him towards her with her hooves. The Dragon slid off his stool and purposely strode to her table. As he did so, the barkeep took his leave and returned to his post.

“Hello,” The Dragon spoke softly. He towered above Rarity, the tips of his head spikes not too far away from interfering with the ceiling. Rarity was for a moment taken aback; every time she saw her friend these days she forgot just how big he’d gotten. She took in his appearance for a split second then flawlessly regained her composure.

“Spike! What a pleasant surprise! Do take a chair, darling.”

With a nervous smile, the Dragon pulled out one of the wooden chairs at the table and gently lowered himself into it with a soft creak. He placed his tankard down in front of him and flashed a toothy grin at the Unicorn.

“Fancy running into you here!” She continued with delight. “I thought I was the only one from our neck of the woods within miles.”

“Uh, yeah, I just got here.” Spike replied. “I was doing a job for Twilight.”

“Of course,” Rarity nodded. “She has you running all over Equestria these days, doesn’t she?”

Spike arched his eyebrows and gave her a wide-eyed nod, his expression communicating ‘tell me about it’. Rarity traced her hoof-tip around the rim of her glass, the conversation having seemingly momentarily dried up.

“Where are my manners?” She said suddenly. “I haven’t even thanked you for my drink.”

“Not at all,” Spike beamed, glad to have something to say. “I thought you could use one.”

Rarity smiled sweetly.

“You know,” She cooed, “you could have just come over and said hello. We’re old friends, after all.”

Spike ran a hand over his head fins sheepishly and smiled while averting his gaze.

“Well, I didn’t want to disturb you. You looked kinda busy.”

He nodded in the direction of the notepad that lay open on the table. Rarity grimaced in its direction.

“Yes,” She sighed. “To tell you the truth though, I’m happy to take a break.”

The Unicorn leaned in over the table conspiratorially. Following her cue, Spike too leaned in close.

“I’m trying to come up with Yak fashion ideas.” She whispered. “Normally this sort of place isn’t...my cup of tea, but it’s good place to make observations.”

“You know, I didn’t want to say anything,” The Dragon whispered back, “but it did strike me as kinda odd when I saw you walk in here. You usually prefer places that are bit...well, fancier.”

Rarity grinned before sitting back on her stool.

“You know me so well, darling.”

“Well,” Spike laughed, “if it makes any difference I did ask for the fanciest drink in the place when I ordered that.”

Rarity glanced down at her glass before snorting with mirth. She raised a hoof to her mouth while her body rocked with chuckles.

“Well then,” She said, having partially recovered and raising her glass, “to fancy.”

“To fancy,” Spike smiled, raising his tankard and lightly tapping it to Rarity’s flute.

They both took a small sip of their respective drinks before setting their glasses back on the table. Rarity swilled the fluid around her mouth with a practiced motion before she swallowed.

“Not bad,” She stated. “I’m not sure about ‘fanciest’, but not bad.”

“You know, that’s pretty much exactly what I said about the stew.” Spike replied, nodding in the direction of the cauldron in the center of the room. Once again, Rarity laughed softly. Spike smiled, beginning to feel a little more at ease. At least now he knew that Rarity wasn’t irritated by his presence.

“So, what did Twilight have you doing up here?” The Unicorn questioned.

“Oh, I had a zoning dispute to iron out,” Spike replied, rolling his eyes at the memory. “There was a single Yak trader way up the mountain, which put him just inside the Dragon territory. I had to go and politely and carefully explain to him that his options were to either move his stall a couple of hundred feet down, or apply to the Dragonlord for retroactive planning permission and pay some fees.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Rarity commented.

“It should have been.” Spike sighed. “But some of these Yaks can be so...”

Spike caught himself, right before he said a sweeping statement about an entire race. Unfortunately for him, Rarity finished the thought for him.

“Stubborn?” Rarity said with a smile at the corner of her mouth and a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Spike winced. “I shouldn’t make generalizations like that.”

Rarity’s smile widened, much to the Dragon’s surprise.

“No, I know what you mean. I’ve had a simply ghastly time trying to market fashions over here.”

“Really?” Spike gasped. “You? But...you’re like the queen of fashion.”

Rarity placed a hoof to her chest and cast her eyes to the ceiling in mock humility.

“You’re so sweet. But yes, I started out by rolling out a few of my old reliables, and I mean outfits that would absolutely slay in Manehatten or Canterlot, and these Yaks just don’t want to know. So now I have to come up with some lines that are specifically catered to their unique...tastes.”

“Well, if anyone can do it it’s you.” Spike stated simply.

“Spikey-wikey,” Rarity giggled. “You keep complementing me like this and I’m going to have to ask Twilight if I can borrow you for a while.”

Spike almost blurted out ‘please do’ but managed to bite the words back. Instead he settled on blushing slightly and awkwardly chuckling.

“So, are you up here on your own?” He enquired. Not the most subtle question he could have asked, but under the circumstances he was desperate to move the conversation along from Rarity’s last flirtatious statement. Celestia, she’d called him ‘Spikey-wikey'...

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” Rarity sighed. “Coco and Sassy are too busy in the other branches, so it’s just me.”

Thankfully, Rarity appeared to have taken the question to be about colleagues rather than about her relationship status.

“Does that not get a bit...lonely?” Spike probed.

Rarity arched her eyebrows, slightly taken aback by the question.

“Well, sometimes,” She confessed. “But I have my work. And I’m often popping back to Canterlot for meet-ups with Twilight and the girls, as you know. We have one scheduled for tomorrow, as it happens.”

Spike nodded.

“That’s good. I’d hate to think of you in this freezing place with no pony to talk to.”

Rarity offered the Dragon a crafty smile, finally spotting the direction that he was leading the conversation in. Spike caught the look and knew that he was busted. Might as well rip the bandage off himself.

“Besides, I thought you might have a...”

He faltered at the last hurdle.

“A what, darling?” Rarity feigned innocence, once again leaning forward, folding her forelegs on the table in front of herself.

“Never mind,” Spike squirmed, hiding his face in his tankard.

“A coltfriend?” She smiled, quite enjoying the Dragon’s discomfort. “Is that what you were going to ask?”

The Unicorn cocked her head at Spike, her eyebrows raised and her grin wide. Spike pursed his lips and struggled to look her in the eye, his face practically on fire.

“Well, I just figured...you must have, right?”

“What makes you say that?” Rarity twisted the knife.

Spike looked into her eyes, silently pleading for mercy. Don’t make him say it, Celestia please...

There was a pause that lasted an instant for the Unicorn, an eternity for the Dragon, before Rarity threw her head back and emitted a loud laugh. The sound of it was like a beautiful otherworldly siren-song that instantly made the tension evaporate from the Dragon’s body. He slumped slightly in his chair, emotionally exhausted.

“Spike, Darling, I’m just kidding with you,” Rarity tittered.

The Dragon smiled weakly, his face still a deeper purple than was the norm.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone at the moment,” She continued, her expression becoming more melancholic. She turned away, staring into the fire behind Spike. “To tell you the truth, things have been rather barren on that front for a while now.”

“Oh,” Spike said quietly, genuinely upset that he’d brought her down. “Rarity, I am sorry.”

Rarity tore her eyes from the fire, suddenly aware that her veil of cheery indifference had flickered for a moment there.

“It’s fine,” she smiled, her momentary gloomy demeanor vanishing. “I’m far too busy anyway. How about you though? You’re visiting your ancestral lands often enough these days, surely there’s a Dragoness you’ve got your eye on.”

Spike snorted a laugh.

“No, no,” He said, taking another sip of his drink. “Nothing like that. Besides, I’m not really into...”

Once again he trailed off.

“Forget it.” He recovered. “No, I’m not seeing anyone either.”

Rarity narrowed her eyes at her friend. What had he been about to say just then? Wasn’t into what?

“Spiiike,” She elongated in a low tone. “Forget what? What aren’t you into?”

Once again Spike shifted uncomfortably in his seat and hid behind his drink.

“It doesn’t matter.” he mumbled.

“I’ll be the judge of that, darling.” Rarity said sternly. “Be a brave boy and tell me what you were going to say.”

Spike drained his tankard and looked at Rarity through terrified eyes. Her expression was quizzical, but she still looked just as gorgeous as ever. If the romantic atmosphere and her flirty behavior kept up, he might be in real danger of saying something really, really stupid. Ok, deep breath. Just tell her the truth.

“Dragons.” He uttered quietly.

Rarity cocked her head at him.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m not really into Dragons.” Spike repeated.

The alabaster Unicorn fixed him with a look of pure fascination, but said nothing, merely taking another sip from her glass, her eyes never leaving his. He allowed his gaze to drop to the table, where he lightly clawed a single finger at the worn wood. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to speak if he had to look into those beautiful sapphire pools.

“It’s...a symptom of being raised by Ponies, I think.” He continued. “During the years when my puberty hit, I only ever had mares around me, so I think my brain got a little re-wired. Now I only find Ponies attractive.”

“Oh Spike,” Rarity reached a hoof across the table and took his hand. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s ok,” The Dragon smiled, giving Rarity’s hoof a light squeeze. “I don’t mind talking about it with a friend, but it’s not something I go out of my way to advertise.”

“Have you spoken to Twilight about it?”

“Twilight?” The Dragon balked. “Celestia no. I dread to think how awkward that would be, for the pair of us.”

“But maybe there’s something magical she could do?” Rarity said.

Spike chuckled. If it were anyone else speaking, he might have taken offence to that. The implication that the way he was was something that needed fixing. But this was Rarity, and he wasn’t sure he was even capable of taking offence to anything she said or did. Besides, her heart was in the right place, she just wanted him to be happy.

“It’s not something I’d change, even if I could,” he said gently. “It’s a part of who I am.”

Rarity nodded, understanding. She realized that she was still holding his hand, so she slowly relinquished it.

“Of course,” The dragon stated, folding his arms with his newly freed appendage and grinning, “the downside is that there isn’t a long line of mares who’re keen to cozy up to a Dragon. So I’m kinda stuck.”

Rarity nodded again, her expression somber. Poor Spike.

“We’re going to need some more drinks,” she said simply, sinking her glass.

Author's Note

Sorry for the delay, this chapter kind of spiralled out of control, and I'm still not entirely happy with it. As ever, thanks for reading!

4. A Dog in Hell's Chance

Starlight jotted frantically in her notepad; her eyes glued to the page. The pale glow of her horn was casting blue light around the surrounding area as she guided the pencil, illuminating her furrowed brow in the darkness. Twilight regarded her with some interest and loathed as she was to break her friend’s concentration, there was something she felt she had to point out.

“You know you won’t be able to take that with you, right?”

“I know that,” Starlight replied, “but the actual act of writing it down makes it much more likely that I’m going to remember all of these details.”

Twilight nodded sagely, allowing the mare to finish. The Princess was all too aware of the heavy burden she’d just placed on the headmare’s shoulders, but she didn’t err in her belief that this was the right thing to do. After a few more seconds of frenzied writing, the magic from Starlight’s horn ceased, and the pencil fell to the desktop with a light tap.

“So then,” Starlight began, checking her notes. “You want Cozy Glow, Tirek and Chrysalis freed from their petrification spell and entered into a program with the goal of re-habilitating them back into society.”

Starlight’s voice was neutral, merely stating the facts. Twilight couldn’t detect a hint of judgement or exasperation.

“I do.” Twilight replied, deciding to match her friend’s tone.

“You want me to lead this program, selecting any and all creatures who will be working under me, assigning roles as I see fit.”

“That’s correct.” Twilight stated.

“With the exception of Spike,” Starlight continued, “who you’ll be assigning to me as a Royal liaison.”

“It just makes sense.” Twilight replied. “He’ll be able to provide regular progress reports, and his messenger magic is the fastest way to get word to me if you need an intervention.”

“Also a good way of keeping an eye on me, huh?” Starlight smiled sardonically.

“That too.” Twilight returned the smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I trust you completely, but nopony knows better than me how manipulative these three can be. Heck, Tirek even managed to trick Discord that one time.”

“Of course he did, Discord’s a half-wit.” Starlight spat.

Twilight cocked her head with raised eyebrows, acknowledging the headmare’s point.

“Nevertheless, just think of Spike as an independent observer. His presence is in no way a reflection on my confidence in you.”

Starlight allowed her eyes to close for a second as she waved her hoof in the air in front of her.

“I know.” She said. “I’m happy to have him on board. Just as long as he doesn’t mind getting his claws dirty along with the rest of us when necessary.”

“I’m sure he won’t.” Twilight smiled. “Though that brings me to my next question; when you say ‘the rest of us’, who did you have in mind?”

Starlight leaned back in her chair and placed her hooves together. This was one of the questions she hadn’t been looking forward to.

“Well, as I said before, it was difficult to come up with names with no information, so it’s a short list.”

“Go on,” Twilight implored.

“Apple Bloom, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle.” Starlight sighed.

Twilight raised an eyebrow.

“The Crusaders?”

“The very same. They’re my three best friendship teachers, and their combined skillsets cover a wide range.” Starlight said. “Plus, now that I have a few more details, this project falls right in their wheelhouse; helping Ponies.”

“They’re so young though,” Twilight cautioned.

“Aren’t they about the same age you were when Celestia first sent you to Ponyville?”

“I suppose so.” Twilight sighed, looking away. That day felt like it had been several lifetimes ago.

“And if I remember what you told me correctly, you went hoof-to-hoof with Nightmare Moon, what, a day later?”

“Something like that,” The Princess conceded, glancing at the tabletop.

“There you are then.” Starlight stated. “Don’t worry, protecting those girls, not to mention myself and everycreature else will be my top priority.”

“Which brings me to my final note;” Starlight continued, “myself and my team are to present an action plan for setting the project in motion to you as soon as possible.”

Twilight looked up.

“I think that about covers it. The only thing remaining is who you have in mind to take over your headmare duties.”

Ah. There it was. The other question Starlight hadn’t been looking forward to. This time she allowed her eyes to drop to the desk.

“Trixie,” She said quietly.

Twilight nodded.

“Trixie’s a good choice.”

Starlight looked up in surprise. That hadn’t been the reaction she was expecting from the Princess.

“Really?” She asked, incredulously.

“She’s been a full time staff member as long as you have, she knows the ins and outs of the school as well as the students, you two are obviously...”

Twilight paused to clear her throat. Neither of the mares found they could meet each other’s gaze.

“...close.” Twilight continued. “She’s perfect.”

Starlight’s face burnt, and for a few moments the dream-space was completely silent.

“Well, I think that about wraps it up,” Starlight said finally. “I can have an action plan in your hooves within forty-eight hours.”

“Good,” Twilight smiled. “I’ll get Spike to report to you as soon as he’s back from Yakyakistan.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Twilight said softly. “I realize how huge this is.”

“Ah, phissssh,” Starlight hissed sarcastically with a wave of her hoof. “No big deal. Reform the three greatest criminals Equestria’s ever seen, I’ll probably have it done before lunchtime tomorrow.”

Twilight grinned, rising from her seat.

“I’ll let you get some rest,” she said and began walking off into the dark. Before she was completely enveloped in the blackness, she threw a meaningful look back at her protégé.

“Promise me you’ll think about that other thing we talked about.” She called.

“Oh, I can pretty much guarantee that,” Starlight retorted grimly. Twilight shot her a final smile and vanished from view.

Starlight awoke in her bed. She blinked blearily at her ceiling for a few seconds before magically illuminating her bedside lamp. Her mind returned to the dream she’d just awoken from and found that the memories were as clear as a bell, no doubt a result of Twilight’s interference. She cast her mind further back, to the previous evening, before she fell asleep. She’d hung around the school for several hours, fretting over Twilight’s mission, then gone home, nothing more. No drinking, no Trixie. She shook her head silently. Now she had a new thing to worry about, with Twilight poking her nose into her relationship status. And then there was Trixie herself...no, no, it was far too early to crack open that particular can of worms. Starlight glanced at her window, realizing that it was still dark outside. She was just about to switch off her light, when she shifted her legs uncomfortably. In confusion, she lifted her duvet and glanced down. With a scowl, a slow close of her eyes and a shake of her head, she shifted onto the other side of her mattress, and killed the light.

Rarity and Spike emerged from the tavern, the Unicorn clutching her cloak around herself in an attempt to protect from the bitter cold. There were fresh flakes of snow softly drifting down upon them, but it was nothing like the ferocity the Dragon had experienced on his earlier walk. The burning torches cast a sickly yellow hue over everything, but as Spike glanced to his companion, he saw that even now, in these less than glamourous conditions, she still shone like a jewel in the gloom. She glanced nervously down the street as flecks of ice began to collect in her perfectly coiffured mane. Spike was beginning to feel the warm effects of the booze he’d partaken in gently massage the back of his brain, and having been inside for a while, and sheltered as they were from the furious wind in-between the numerous dwellings, he wasn’t even feeling the cold anymore. Not so for Rarity, whom he noticed couldn’t seem to pull her fur collar around her neck tightly enough. She had been the one who had ordered all their beverages, opening a tab at the bar; Spike suspected that she might be feeling a tad guilty about dragging out the truth about his...orientation earlier, but as far as he was concerned there was no need. It wasn’t anything he was ashamed of. Honestly, he’d just been thankful that she hadn’t dragged more out of him, even if there was undeniably a tiny part of him that wished she had. Still though, the cold fact remained that he had no money, so he’d humbly and gratefully allowed her to ply him with several drinks. Now it was the early hours of the morning, and they had mutually decided that it was time to call it a night.

“I’m just a little ways this way,” Rarity spoke, pointing down the street, her voice sounding quiet in the snowy street. Spike, emboldened by the alcohol flowing through his veins, threw on his best winning smile.

“Rarity, would you do me the honor of allowing me to walk you home?”

He offered the Unicorn the crook of his arm. OK, it was cheesy, he knew that the second the words had left his mouth, like he was hearing someone else speak. ‘Would you do me the honor’, Celestia wept...

“Spikey, I’d be delighted,” Rarity smiled, reaching up and slipping her hoof through his arm.

Her touch once again sent the electricity racing through his body, and the butterflies in his stomach became agitated once more. He silently prayed that it didn’t show. There was a tone of relief in the mare’s voice, and Spike realized with a start that she’d been hoping he might ask her that. He took a look down the street himself and noticed that the further down it went, the more infrequent the lit torches became. Not a pleasant walk to have to make on your own, especially in the dead of night and when you were a stranger in a strange land. He mentally chided himself that his reasons for wanting to walk the Unicorn to her destination weren’t more...pure.

They started down the road, their hooves and feet respectively making soft crunching noises in the newly laid snow.

“I can’t thank you enough for all those drinks,” Spike breathed, his breath billowing out in the cold air. “I’ll pay you back, I swear, I just need to-”

“Spike,” Rarity cut him off. “That’s not necessary. You’re one of my closest friends.”

Spike smiled, glancing away from Rarity and down the street. There was a reason she was the embodiment of the element of generosity.

“Well, thank you anyway.” He said simply, lightly squeezing her leg with his arm.

“Well, it was the least I could do, after I forced you to reveal...that...”

“You didn’t force me,” Spike lied. “Anyways, it felt pretty good to get it all out in the open for a change. I’ve never really spoken about it to anypony before.”

Rarity looked up at him, surprised.

“Really?” She asked softly, her words forming a cloud that drifted up past the Dragon’s face. “I’d have thought that it might’ve been the kind of thing you’d discuss with your male friends on those ‘guys nights’ you have.”

Spike glanced down, only to see her pale face staring up at him in wide-eyed wonderment. His nervousness appeared to have returned, this time with reinforcements. It didn’t help that she was so close now, close enough that he could feel the touch of her fur on his scales and feel the warmth of her body. He suddenly realized that several seconds had passed, and still he hadn’t replied.

“Hm? Oh, no, no,” He chuckled. “When we get together it’s pretty much just all business.”

They trudged a few more steps.

“By which I mean O&O,” he added.

Rarity smiled an incredulous look up at him. Clearly, the Dragon’s get-togethers with his friends were very different from the ones she had with the girls. You could bet that if she were to suddenly start finding Dragons attractive then she’d be asking her friends for guidance.

‘What do you mean, ‘if’?’ a small voice teased in the back of her mind.

The thought caused her cheeks to flush, and she became fascinated with the other side of the street. Yes, well. That was a train of thought to explore later. For Celestia’s sake, why did he have to be so sweet and gentlecoltly...

“You never did answer my question though,” the mare said suddenly. Spike glanced down at her once more.

“Hm?”

“I asked if there was a Dragon you had your eye on,” She continued, the cold climate mercifully doing wonders to hide her blushing. “So I suppose I’m changing the question to be ‘Is there a Pony you have your eye on?’”

Spike’s eyes widened by a miniscule amount and there was no hiding the blush that took over his face. He looked away, and Rarity took the opportunity to allow a smile to break her innocent expression.

“I...uh...” Spike stumbled, still not looking at the Unicorn. “Yes, there’s a Pony that I like, but...”

“But what, darling?”

“But I doubt that she’d be interested in me, so I’ve kept quiet.” Spike sighed.

“Well, you’ll never know unless you ask.” Rarity said softly, once again thoroughly inspecting the surrounding area.

They were now at the point in the village where the lights had become sparce, and shadows crept across their bodies like a silk sheet. Rarity pulled the dragon closer to her.

“Well...” Spike started, aware of where all this was leading. “I have a...close friendship with this mare, so I don’t want to risk losing it.”

“If she’s a close friend, she won’t let something like that ruin what you have,” The Unicorn said, her voice practically a whisper. “If she’s not interested, that is.”

The only light now came from the clouded full moon, giving the frozen landscape a ghostly silver appearance. Rarity could see the outline of her dragon companion, all barrel chested and chiseled, but his expression was lost to her. What was she doing? She knew good and well who he was talking about, and he knew she knew. What did she want? To make him say it? What would she say if he did? The thought created a charge of excitement in her chest. Did she want him to? Is that why she couldn’t resist tugging on this thread? She remembered the time when he’d been a child and he’d almost told her he had a crush on her. She’d stopped him of course, just to give them both the veil of plausible deniability. In any case, it wasn’t much of a revelation. He could scarcely have been more obvious about it if he tried. With him being the age he was, there wouldn’t be much to be gained by having it out in the open, save for a lingering sense of awkwardness that most likely would have affected their friendship. But that was then, and this was now, and when she’d shut him down all those years ago, she hadn’t meant that he couldn’t shoot his shot when the time was right. She just sort of assumed that he’d grown up and had forgotten about the infatuation he’d had when he was a little boy. She too remembered the instant when she’d thought he’d moved on; when he’d chosen to spend time with Gabby, his Griffon friend over her. She undeniably felt a pang of jealousy back then, but she tried hard to get over it, chalking the feeling up to the vanity that she needed to work on. Her little Spikey-wikey had grown up, and he wouldn’t be needing his (admittedly gorgeous) older mare crush any longer, which was as it should be.

But that wasn’t in line with the signals she’d been getting all evening. It seemed like the poor darling had been carrying a bigger torch than any of the ones they’d passed by this night. She should just let this drop. She was far too old for him anyway, something he’d no doubt realize on his own if she just left him to his own devices. She would not drag any further confessions from the darling Dragon tonight.

“A close friend, then?” She remarked. “Anypony I know?”

Celestia damn it. Way to go Rarity.

She felt him tense up as much as she saw it at that last question. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out, so he closed it again. They walked a few more steps in the darkness.

“Er...” He began, before he stopped once more. This time he stopped dead in his tracks, and Rarity felt a tug at her leg as she continued a half a step before she realized. His body tensed once more, this time more than before, his arm feeling like a coil of solid steel under her hoof.

“Hold on a second,” he whispered, his eyes looking dead ahead, scanning the darkness in front of them. Rarity herself then tensed too, reading the signs of his body language. This wasn’t social discomfort. This was threat assessment.

Rarity was about to whisper back to him to ask what was going on, but then she saw it. The inky shadows a few meters ahead of them and a little to the right seemed to come alive as a hulking form emerged with a low, gravelly chuckle. An involuntary gasp escaped the Unicorn’s lips.

The Diamond Dog’s colossal arms dragged on the snow as he slowly stomped towards them, dragging what appeared to be a vicious spiked club behind him. In the low light, he appeared to be completely grey, but as a cloud shifted past the moon both Dragon and Unicorn were able to pick out a horrific, toothy, drooling grin. His clothes were ragged, and he bore a black, jewel studded collar around his neck. His ears were missing various chunks, and he had an angry scar where his right eye should have been.

“Nice night for a walk,” he laughed, his voice like knives on a slab of granite.

“Ah! Er, yes, yes, I suppose it is...” Rarity found herself babbling.

She’d had dealings with these particular creatures in the past, but she strongly doubted that the whining tactics that served her so well back then would work now. This specimen looked much meaner, and frankly as though he devoured Ponies like her for breakfast.

“Can we help you?” Spike questioned, his words colder than the environment into which he spoke them.

He gently placed his hand on Rarity’s chest and stepped forward, interposing himself between her and their addresser.

“I’d say so,” the Dog grinned, as two similar looking companions emerged behind him. “We’ll start with whatever you’ve got in that bag there.”

Spike snorted in frustration as his eyes flitted between the three. The two new arrivals were a little shorter than their would-be mugger, and they didn’t appear to have weapons, but their claws and teeth were bared, their breath coming out in ragged clouds. It was at this point that the smell of them hit Rarity, and the foul stench was enough to cause her to take a step back and drop Spike’s arm, if only to cover her nose. Without taking his eyes off the three, Spike slumped his backpack off his shoulder and flung it at the feet of the presumable leader.

“There,” he spat. “Now leave us alone.”

With a gleeful giggle, the Dog retrieved the bag and emptied its contents on the ground. After crouching and sifting through Spike’s meagre belongings for a few disappointing seconds, he stood.

“That’s not going to be enough.” He growled. “We’ll take whatever the Pony’s got too.”

Rarity began frightfully loosening her saddlebag from her back, but Spike stopped her with a light hand on her neck. She could only look on in open-mouthed amazement as he took another step forward, almost completely obscuring her view of their assailants.

“No,” he hissed. “You’re not touching the lady.”

The Dog grinned even wider, revealing razor sharp teeth that looked as though they could make it through a tree trunk in a single bite. He continued his slow advance towards the pair, raising his club from the ground to lightly pat it into his other hand.

“Wasn’t asking, sweetheart,” he laughed. “Maybe we’ll just take her too, I hear they’re good at finding gems.”

He almost got within grasping distance of Rarity before Spike’s fist impacted into his nose with a sickening crunch. For a split second the soft flesh of the Dog’s face wrapped itself around the Dragon’s knuckles, and the Unicorn fancied that the mutt was actually lifted off his feet. The brute was sent rocketing backwards, creating a meter long shallow trench in the snow before ending on a perfect Dog-angel. His two underlings exchanged concerned glances between both themselves and Spike, their intimidating body language faltering for a moment. Then their leader roared from the floor in pain and fury.

“Argh! Boys, grab his arms!”

Snapped back to attention by their superior’s barked order, the two Dogs flitted to his sides with surprising speed given their size. Rarity gasped in horror as they seized the Dragon by the wrists and held him fast, pulling his arms taught. He struggled against their grip, but in terms of strength he was no match for them. The large Dog pulled himself up from the icy dirt and frantically retrieved his club, before rearing up and storming towards Spike. Blood was pumping merrily from his nose, running down his face and creating red dots on his clothes and the snow that glistened in the moonlight.

“You’re gonna pay for that one, Dragon-boy!” He barked as he raised his weapon with both hands over one shoulder, aiming a brutal blow directly at the dragon’s head.

Rarity felt an icicle of fear stab her in the gut, and she found that she could do nothing, not even scream. She stood frozen, and the horror of the situation made it appear as if she was witnessing the events unfold in slow motion.

For his part, Spike simply allowed his head to cock to the side, his eyes half-lidded and his expression exasperated, communicating the expression ‘Really, bro?’.

As his mugger wound up his strike, the Dragon inhaled deeply, before blowing a plume of emerald-green fire straight into his attacker’s face. Having lived with his fiery ability his whole life, he knew just how long to hold it that he wouldn’t cause any permanent damage, but for two glorious seconds the Dog’s head was a raging inferno. Then Spike sealed his lips, the flames once again contained within him. The hound stood in open mouthed shock, dropping his club harmlessly to the ground. His face was a raw pink colour, having been relieved of whiskers, eyebrows, eyelashes and fur. An acrid smell of burnt hair joined the general stench of the Dogs, creating a nauseating miasma. The Dog allowed his smoldering face to sit in the thankfully chilly air for another moment, smoke wafting off his raw skin, before he screamed a high pitched scream, ran to a convenient snow bank, and buried his head in it.

This time the Dogs at his arms not only exchanged worried glances, but horrified gapes.

“Plenty more where that came from, boys.” Spike growled, his attention flitting between the two.

Both of the thugs dropped his arms like they were electric eels, before they sprinted to their fallen comrade, hoisted him up, one at each arm, and disappeared into the night.

Spike allowed himself a few seconds of staring into the darkness after them, taking several deep breaths, allowing the adrenaline to dilute through his blood. When he was satisfied that they were indeed gone, he spun on his heel and crouched down to Rarity, putting his eyes level with hers.

“Are you okay?” He asked quickly. “Rarity, I’m so sorry that-”

“Spike!” She cried, throwing her forelegs around the Dragon and weeping into his neck.

Spike allowed her to cling onto him for a few moments before he gingerly placed his hands on her back.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he whispered softly, stroking at her cloak. “They’re gone now.”

“Spike!” She wailed. “They were going to... they could’ve...”

“They didn’t,” Spike shushed. “It’s all okay. Just as long as you are.”

Rarity’s sobs began to subside as she forced herself to calm down, taking several deep breaths. Slowly she prized herself from the nape of Spike’s neck, mortified to discover that she’d left a mire of tears and run mascara on the Dragon’s scales. She looked into his eyes, his hands still on her back, but realized that he wasn’t looking at her, his eyes were trained past her, back up the road in the direction they’d come from. His expression was one of mild worry. She then heard heavy hoof falls behind her, and she spun around in shock.

‘What now?’

Two guard Yaks came bounding down the cobbles towards them, each holding a lantern in their hoof. They skidded to a halt in front of the pair, and took in the scene, seeing Rarity in tears, Spike looming over her, disturbed snow denoting a scene of a struggle and Spike’s belongings scattered over the icy ground. As they reached to free their blades from their scabbards with their free hooves, it became evident that they’d leapt to entirely the wrong conclusion. Spike couldn’t honestly say he blamed them.

“Yaks warned Dragon!” The closest one bellowed, as his sword came free with a metallic shing.

Spike once again held his palms up and took a step backwards. He was just about to protest his innocence when Rarity’s shrill cry erupted in the frozen lane.

“Oh no you dont!” She yelled, standing and stamping her hoof whilst hastily wiping at the black streaks on her cheeks with the other. “This Dragon is a hero, and you won’t be accosting him in any way!”

The closest Yay glanced skyward and gave his horns the tiniest of shakes. Although Spike couldn’t see the guard’s face beneath the numerous braids, he knew an eyeroll when he saw it.

“Pony Lady,” The Yaks grunted, his voice suggesting strained patience. “Please stand aside. Yaks want to speak with Dragon-man. If you-”

Whilst he’d been speaking, his colleague had held up his lantern, and pulled aside a thick clump of hair with his spare hoof, scrutinizing Rarity closely. After an instant of recognition, he interrupted his friend.

“Hup, hup, hup, hup,” he clucked, tugging at his co-worker's horn. The first Yak sighed in frustration, and allowed himself to be led off a few feet to the side, where they whispered, their backs to Rarity and Spike. Yak speaking volumes being what they were, the Unicorn and Dragon heard every word.

“That no ordinary Pony!” The second Yak hissed. “That Miss Rarity. Close personal friend of Princess of Equestria and Prince Rutherford!”

The first Yak peered over his shoulder at the pair, before returning to his conversation.

“Yaks best listen to what she has to say,” The second Yak continued.

The first Yak grunted in agreement before the pair of them turned back around to regard the pair once more. Spike did his best to look like he hadn’t been eavesdropping, while Rarity flashed her best ‘I demand to see your manager’ expression.

“Apologies Miss Rarity,” The first Yak said, his voice now much more gentle. “Please, tell guard-Yaks what happened.”

Rarity’s expression softened, relieved that Spike no longer seemed to be in danger of being arrested.

“Oh sirs, it was just awful!” She started, her voice returning to her refined, melodious accent. “We were attacked by three Diamond Dogs! They demanded we hand over our things and then-”

“Diamond Dogs?” The first Yak snapped angrily. “In Yak village?”

“Yes,” Rarity replied, not thrilled at having been interrupted but not allowing the irritation to creep into her voice. “They tried to rob us and then they were talking about Pony-napping me!”

The Unicorn allowed her voice to break slightly at her last statement for emphasis.

“Tried?” The second Yak enquired. “What happen next?”

“This Dragon,” Rarity gestured behind her without turning around, “this Dragon protected my possessions and my honor. He sent them packing with his fire breath.”

Spike stared at the Yaks with a wide eyes expression, his palms still raised. The Yaks glanced at each other with a nod.

“That checks out with what Yaks saw up street,” The second guard said, turning his attention to Spike. “Green, right?”

Spike’s eyebrows leapt up his brow, the Dragon momentarily not understanding. Then the bit dropped, and he blew a miniscule flame out of the corner of his mouth. A small green glow briefly illuminated his features.

The guards nodded.

“Guard Yaks patrol area. If Diamond Dogs still here, they learn not to trespass in Yak village again.” The first guard said, his hoof returning his blade to his belt. He strode forward, past Rarity and Spike holding his lantern in his teeth, his hoof hovering over the handle of his weapon. The second Yak followed, pausing when he reached Spike.

“Look like Dragon really is hero then,” he said simply.

Spike shook his head.

“I just...did what had to be done.” He breathed. “There’s probably a Dog burrow somewhere nearby, they’re most likely mining somewhere under the mountain.”

The Yak nodded.

“Dragon no worry,” he soothed. “Yaks find it, fill it in.”

He glanced back at Rarity who was silently observing them.

“Dragon okay to get Miss Rarity home?”

Spike’s expression hardened.

“Absolutely.”

“Good Dragon-man,” the Yak grinned, giving Spike a good-natured slap on the shoulder. “Here, Dragon take this.”

He offered Spike his lantern.

“Thanks,” Spike replied, taking the tin lamp. With a nod, the Yak hurried off after his friend. Within moments they had vanished down the street, around a corner and were gone from view. Spike carefully set down the light on the ground, and began the miserable task of scraping his things back into his backpack. Rarity approached slowly, and the Dragon looked up at her with a strained smile.

“Spike...” She said lightly, her horn illuminating and her magic retrieving his blanket from the snow. It was clearly sodden, having been dumped on the ground and summarily trampled on, so she magically twisted it and wrung it out as best she could.

“It’s ok,” the Dragon replied. “Nothing a little warming up won’t fix.”

“...you don’t have to walk me the rest of the way, Spike.” She said hesitantly, privately not keen on going anywhere alone right now, but feeling incredibly guilty that her friend had had his overnight bag scattered on the wet ground, not to mention almost being brained and then arrested.

“It’s not too much further now.”

Spike looked up at her, his expression incredulous but determined.

“Rarity, I insist.”

As she looked into his green eyes, Rarity felt her heart melt. Such a gentle-Dragon.

The rest of their walk was uneventful, a fact that they were both thankful for. They’d passed down numerous dark alleys and twisting back streets until, finally, the torch lights that served as crude lampposts became once again more frequent. They saw no sign of any other creature for the remainder of their walk, and for the most part they’d stayed silent. Rarity couldn’t speak for the Dragon, but for her part she was still sifting through the torrent of emotions that were running through her mind. The adrenaline was still a fresh memory in her body, and though her breathing had returned to normal, she still found that she had an unpleasant jittery feeling in her limbs. Shifting her attention away from her own queasy sensations, she instead focused on her scaled savior.

Well, now where did she stand on that matter for Celestia’s sake? Not only was he sweet, caring and the perfect gentle-Dragon, but damn her if she didn’t have to add dashing to the list, too. And maybe strong, too. Stallion-ish.

Rarity gave her head a minute shake, as though the motion would help her thoughts settle. She still clung to his tree-branch of an arm, enjoying the warmth that radiated out of his scales. She couldn’t quite believe that he was wandering around in this weather with no shirt on, but then, she wasn’t exactly complaining either.

This was getting serious. This had gone way beyond gently teasing an old friend who she knew used to have a crush on her. Now she was very much entrenched in ‘I hope you still have that little crush darling, because now I’ve got one too’ territory. She took a deep breath at the realization. Where did that leave her? If she were to say something, would that make her a hypocrite? What if, worse still, she did say something, and it turned out that he had been, in fact, not talking about her earlier when he said that there was a Pony he liked? What if...

“Um, is this your place by any chance?” Spike broke the silence suddenly.

Rarity was yanked from her musings and suddenly became aware of their location. They were right outside of ‘Rarity 4 U’, Yakyakistan branch. The building was constructed of much the same materials as the rest of the huts, but the shape of it was more square, more closely resembling the shops that lined the streets in Manehatten. Two large shop windows had been incorporated into the front on either side of the red wooden door, and through them, past the gold and black lettering of the shop name, there could be seen two mannequins of approximate Yak proportions, bedecked in chic and silky outfits of the mare’s design. The one on the left was a blue and white ensemble, its wavy and billowing silks made to evoke the feeling of the ocean. The right one called forth the notion of the forest, lime green and teal, with meticulously stitched floral designs and a leaf shaped chapeau. The lights were kept extinguished of course, but the moonlight from the now clear sky seemed to be shining directly onto the shop front, giving them both a clear view of the establishment. On the frosted glass of the door, there hung a dainty sign displaying the opening times, along with the word ‘closed’ in block capitals.

“Oh! Ahem, yes, yes, this is me.” Rarity sputtered awkwardly.

“Wow,” Spike whistled. “It looks incredible. We could be in Canterlot.”

“Oh Spikey,” Rarity scoffed. “You really are the sweetest. It has a long ways to go yet, but it’s getting there.”

The silence returned, neither of them wanting to say goodbye just yet. Finally, Spike relented.

“Well, I’ll say goodnight then, Rarity.”

“Spike,” Rarity whispered, allowing her hoof to slip from the crook of his arm, “I still haven’t thanked you for what you did for me back there.”

Spike glanced down at her.

“You don’t have to.” He replied somberly, glancing away. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t have diffused it more peacefully. I’m supposed to be a diplomat, not a thug.”

The turn of his head gave the mare an exquisite view of his defined, angular jaw. The butterflies invaded her stomach. That was the final straw. Rarity stood on her hind legs, lightly placing her hooves on the Dragon’s chest. Her face was level with his, and for a split second she lost herself in the infinity of his eyes.

“I don’t think you’re a thug,” she breathed. “I think you’re my knight in shining armor.”

She gradually brought her face towards his, and within seconds their lips connected. The Unicorn’s eyes drifted closed as she allowed her mouth to open a fraction. Spike followed suit, and their tongues connected, slowly and sensually exploring each other. Rarity felt a thrill of excitement as she felt the Dragon’s powerful hands lightly rest on her sides and was astonished at the alien but not unwelcome sensation that was going on in her mouth. His tongue was thin and flat, like she were kissing a ribbon, with a soft forked end that gave her exquisite tickles around her mouth. As she caressed his chest with her hooves, a primal part of her brain wondered what this tongue might feel like elsewhere. While that steamy thought lingered in her mind, their kiss came to an end. Rarity opened her eyes, having some difficulty in rolling them out of the back of her head. When they re-focused, they found Spike looking at her in astonishment. She smiled, and planted a tiny kiss on his snout. His hands hadn’t left her sides, so she slid her hooves over his chest and around his back. Since Spike seemed to have temporarily lost the power of speech, Rarity spoke.

“I’d like to see you again soon,” she purred, the clouds of her breath billowing out and mingling with his. “Where are you staying?”

“I, er...um.” Spike articulated.

Rarity narrowed her eyes at him.

“I haven’t actually sorted out anywhere to sleep just yet,” he admitted, glancing down.

“Wh-” The Unicorn stammered, not quite believing what she was hearing. “You mean to tell me you came all this way in the middle of the night and you don’t even have anywhere to stay?!”

“I was going to try to find a hotel, but it seems like noyak accepts bits here-”

“Well, no, they wouldn’t, would they, darling?” Rarity interjected. “You didn’t even bring any Yak drachma?”

“Um, no.” Spike squirmed, wishing that they could just go back to the kissing. “I had some gems I was planning to eat, but I gave all those to the bar Yak for some drinks-”

“You what?!” Rarity near shouted, aghast. “This is so typical of your kind!”

“Dragons?” Spike raised an eybrow.

“Males!” Rarity spat. “Honestly, how does it work? You just think ‘Boy go here now, hurr hurr’ and off you pop, with no thought to the consequences?”

Spike shifted uncomfortably on the spot. It was hard to fault that logic, especially when you weren’t wearing a coat or shoes.

“It’s ok, I’ll just go and find those guards again,” Spike pleaded. “I’m sure I’ll have no problems finding somewhere to sleep once I explain who I am-”

“Oh, you mean the ones who are currently chasing Diamond Dogs Celestia knows where?” Rarity’s tone softened. She wasn’t really mad, just exasperated that the Dragon could be so careless.

“Yeah, uh, those ones...” Spike said quietly. He relinquished Rarity’s waist and accepted his scolding, his eyes once again dropping to the floor. The Unicorn slackened her grip around the Dragon but didn’t let go just yet.

“Well, there’s only one thing for it,” she stated in a matronly tone. “You shall just have to stay with me.”

“Whu-wha?” Spike stumbled. “Rarity, no, I couldn’t possibly-”

The white creature silenced him with a raised hoof.

“Darling,” she said firmly, a smile at the corner of her mouth, “it’s not up for debate.”

Spike followed Rarity into her shop and after the Unicorn had magically illuminated the light hanging from the ceiling, was momentarily taken aback by how familiar it felt. There was a work bench, nigh identical to the one he’d seen her at so many times when he was small, strewn with needles, thread, scissors and off-cuts of fabric. Next to it there stood a robust iron sewing machine, on a stand with a hoof pedal for power. The interior was all polished pine, from the floor to the walls to the ceiling, the seamstress had obviously spared no expense when having the place built. There were several more Yak shaped mannequins dotted around the room, each wearing an ensemble that were in varying stages of completion. He found that the smell of the place took him right back to his childhood, to long before his wings had sprouted, to the days when he’d eagerly bound into the boutique, desperate to help Rarity with whatever he could. It was the smell of perfume, of dress-makers chalk, of various exotic fabrics and of course, of Rarity herself, an elegant floral aroma. The only thing missing was a surly cat stalking the premises.

“Wow,” he exclaimed, his voice now sounding loud and tinny now that they were out of the sound-absorbing effects of the snow. “It’s like being back in the Carousel Boutique.”

Rarity threw him a smile as she locked the front door.

“I have a small living quarters in the back, though I’m afraid it’s not the Bitz,” she intoned, breezing through a pair of satin curtains at the back of the room. “This way.”

Spike followed after her, clutching his backpack and newly acquired lantern close. He took a moment to extinguish the flame inside the latter; with this many hanging drapes and other flammable finery around, he didn’t need any accidents. That done, he stepped though the drapes and found himself in a tiny bedroom. There was a large-ish bed, a small bookshelf crammed with Shadow Spade novels, a bedside table with a lamp, and little else.

“I’ll just be a minute, darling,” she said as she slipped through a door to the left of the room and closed it lightly behind her. On the other side, Spike soon heard the sound of running water, and so correctly assumed that it was the bathroom. It was only then that he made a horrifying realization. There was only one bed.

Well, of course there was. Why would there be more than one bed? Stupid, stupid Dragon. Ah well. It’d have to be the floor for him. As he removed his slightly damp blanket from his bag and laid it out, he reasoned that he’d slept in worse places. Tartarus, when he was living with Twilight all those years ago in Ponyville his bed had been a dog basket for Celestia’s sake. Whilst Rarity was performing her ablutions, he took the opportunity to swap the trousers he was wearing for his spare pair, the latter being both cleaner and drier. He’d just treat them like pajamas for the time being. Ordinarily he would have retrieved Rare-bear from his bag too, but under the circumstances he thought she’d forgive him for leaving her in his bag’s front pocket. Thank goodness the Diamond Dog hadn’t discovered her while he was rifling through his things. He lay the backpack down at the top of the blanket as a makeshift pillow, and lay down. The damp fabric was cool against his scales, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle and besides, it would warm up and dry out soon enough. Just being this close to Rarity was all the comfort he needed, and besides...after that kiss...yowzer. Everything had moved so fast since that happened, or maybe it was that his brain wasn’t really processing things as well as it normally did, but he hadn’t really stopped to think what that meant. Did...did he have a chance with Rarity? A real, tangible, honest to Celestia chance? The thought was so sweet, so alluring, so-everything-he'd-ever-wanted he almost didn’t want to believe it was real, to save himself the crushing disappointment when it turned out to, in fact, not be. But the idea that it wasn’t real just didn’t line up with the facts. A wide, goofy grin damn near split his face in half. He felt giddy, exquisite joy and more excitement than he thought he’d ever felt in his life, like he wanted to run a mile, climb a mountain and pick a fight with a Bugbear all at the same time. It was difficult to describe. Maybe like what Pinky Pie went through on a daily basis? As he lay there, wondering how he’d got to be so lucky, the reason for his new-found euphoria emerged from the bathroom.

“Apologies,” she said as she re-entered the room, sans makeup. “I just had to-”

She stopped as she noticed the Dragon grinning dumbly on her floor.

“Spikey,” she asked quizzically, “what are you doing down there?”

“Hm?” Spike hummed up at her. “Oh, well, there’s just the one bed, so I thought...”

“Honestly Spike,” she chided with amusement. “You really think I’d have you sleep on the floor after what you did for me tonight?”

“Um, no...? But I just thought that-”

“I trust you don’t mind sharing.”

The colour drained from Spike’s face, and the moisture from his mouth.

“I’m sorry?” He replied in a voice that was too squeaky to be his own.

His tongue suddenly felt too big for his mouth and making the words that he wanted say felt like a monumental effort.

“The bed, darling. It’s a queen size, so there should be plenty of room for the both of us.”

Spike simply stared up at her dumbfounded for what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than several hours.

“Yeah,” he said, the high pitched, not-his voice showing no signs of abating. “Yeah, I’d be okay with that.”

He accepted her hoof to help him up off the floor and vacated his long-suffering blanket.

“Tsk.” Rarity tutted. “And on this sodden thing too.”

She returned to her bathroom and deposited his blanket in her laundry hamper. While she did so, Spike carefully peeled back the duvet, and slowly, gently, as though he were laying down on a bed of nails, lowered himself onto her mattress. Once there, he shunted himself across so that his back was just touching the cool wood of her wall. Nopony was going to accuse him of taking up more than his fair share of space, no siree.

Presently, the Unicorn re-entered the bedroom, closed the bathroom door and slipped into the bed beside him. She lay on her side, facing away from him, but twisted her upper body around to look at him.

“Just so you know, this isn’t the type of thing I’d normally do on a first date,” she smiled softly. “But these are exceptional circumstances.”

Spike could only nod in understanding and agreement. Rarity smiled at him once more, planted a final kiss on his lips, then rolled back over and killed the lights with a ping from her horn. She lay there still, her breathing becoming slow and rhythmic.

Inside Spike’s mind, a heated debate began.

‘You should put your hand on her,’ his brain said.

‘Are you crazy?!’ Spike mentally replied.

‘Nothing creepy, just, you know, as a sign of affection. On her cutie mark, maybe.’

‘How is that not creepy? It’s a complete violation of the trust she’s placed in us, and you should be ashamed for even saying it.’

‘Oh come on, Dragon! I was there for that kiss you know, I saw the whole thing. I know you’re feeling a little nervous about this, and to be honest I can’t quite believe it myself, but she obviously wants you. You’re looking at an open goal here, my friend.’

‘No. No, I won’t do it. To touch her without permission – while she’s sleeping, no less...it’s just sleazy. And furthermore–’

‘Sirs,’ a third voice joined the discussion. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt, but...’

‘Not now body!’ Spike snapped. ‘Can’t you see brain and I are having a conversation?!’

‘I know, it’s just...we’ve got movement sir.’

Back in the real world, Rarity reached behind herself, grasped Spike’s hand in her hoof, scooched her butt backwards towards him, made herself the little spoon, and placed his hand on her belly, her hoof gently holding it in place. She moaned in contentment and gave a little wriggle, before settling back down to sleep.

‘Ho, ho, hooooo,’ brain chuckled. ‘That right there is one heck of a thing. You doing okay there, buddy?’

Spike could make no reply.

Author's Note

Whew! And I thought the last chapter spiralled out of control. There's going to be a delay in the next one, as I have a week long period where I'm not going to be able to get any writing done. Hopefully this XL chapter makes up for that. Thanks!

5. Cake & Confessions

It was just a little after mid-morning, and if the spiral staircase that led to the tallest turret in the school of friendship could talk, it would have told you that this was its favorite time of the day; still nice and quiet, but with the advantage of having the warmth of the sun heating the outer brickwork. Few creatures passed this way, though it used to be fewer, the staircase would have lamented, if it was capable of such emotions. For reasons that would have been lost on it, a small group of Ponies had cause to visit the attic of the turret on an almost daily basis, so if it was capable of being disturbed, it would have been, at seven a.m. every morning. Now, however, all was still in the sleepy turret, the shafts of light from the slit windows beating down onto the grey stonework creating a warm atmosphere. The dust that was kicked up from the earlier disturbance was settling, and all was right in Equestria, at least as far as the staircase was concerned (if it were able, of course). Which made it all the more horrendous when the peace was abruptly shattered, when the door at the ground level was practically kicked off its hinges, and a lone pony stormed up the stairs.

‘For Celestia’s sake,’ the staircase would have thought. ‘Now what?’

Starlight Glimmer bound up the dusty steps two at a time, angrily ascending to the highest point. Her perturbation had been steadily growing all morning, and now that she had well and truly whipped herself into a frenzy, she felt like she was ready to put the head of the first Pony that looked at her funny through the nearest convenient wall.

Stupid trotting Princess stupid Twilight idiot Sparkle. Who did she think she was anyway? Aside from the ruler of Equestria, her mentor, the one responsible for giving her a second chance at a normal life, not to mention this job (which she loved) and a close personal friend. But aside from all of that, just where did she get off on telling her that she was in love with Trixie?

The very idea was laughable. Starlight snorted humorlessly, shielding her eyes with a hoof as she passed by one of the windows facing the sun. She could just as easily accuse Twilight of being in love with Applejack, or Pinkie Pie, Tartarus any of her friends that she had her frequent meet ups with.

Ok fine, she admitted it, she had the occasional naughty dream about the bombastic Unicorn, so what? It was just as she’d said to Twilight last night, it didn’t mean anything. Other than the headmare hadn’t been getting any lately, anyway. Starlight scowled at a nearby spider as she continued upwards.

And sure, typically the best part of her day was when that blue idiot stuck her head around her door and asked to hang out, or drink, or listen to her whine about her day, or any number of other activities. But that was completely normal, she was sure that Twilight (or anypony else, for that matter) would say the same about their friends.

And admittedly, Starlight found that on the occasions when Trixie went ahead of her on the stairs, she couldn’t help but check out her flank, just a little, as it bobbed away under that starry dress of hers. But that was perfectly normal too, she was an attractive mare, any Pony with eyes could see that. Starlight could be forgiven for taking the odd harmless peek.

And ok, fine, sure, whatever, sometimes, during the lonely late-working nights, maybe she did think about that caravan trip they took together all those years ago. They’d driven each other up the wall of course, and the whole trip had almost ended in disaster. But, she fantasized, if they could do it again, they could take some necessary precautions. Like, maybe, if they were to do it again of course, they could take along two pairs of hers & hers earplugs, to blot out both her own snoring and Trixie’s nocturnal performances. And they could take some actual money along with them this time, so they’re not having to scrape by, being forced to choose between an extra big bed for the night or a sandwich. And, speaking of beds, maybe instead of trying to squeeze two single hammocks into Trixie’s tiny caravan, they could instead fit it with one double, and then each night snuggle together in the warmth while the summer rain lashed upon...

Oh, Celestia damn it.

The sudden realization was enough to stop the headmare in her tracks. She paused at a convenient landing where sunlight spewed in from a traditional arrow-slot window. Starlight placed one of her forelegs against the grainy bricks and beat her head against it. She... she was...

She was in love with Trixie. The great and powerful moron. Ok, now Starlight was really annoyed.

It was one thing for Twilight to be poking her nose into her business, but to be poking her nose in and actually being right about it? That was unacceptable. She buried her face in her hooves and allowed herself a muffled scream before she continued her journey upward.

“Did y’all hear somethin’?” Applebloom asked, cocking her head and straining her ears.

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle paused their activities and followed suit. Scootaloo was lounging at her desk, her rear hooves propped upon the surface, a mug of black coffee at her elbow. She looked up from her sports magazine and looked uncertainly at her friend.

“No?” She replied. “Like what?”

“Ah don’t know. Sounded like somepony growlin’, or yellin’ or somethin’.”

Sweetie Belle continued her task of fishing her coffee whitener out of her drawer and smiled at her Apple friend.

“Are you starting to hear things?”

“Maybe,” Applebloom replied. “Wouldn’t be surprised if ah wuz, what with all this extra work.”

“Right, it’s your fieldtrip this week, isn’t it?” Scootaloo sipped her drink.

The top of the tallest turret, collectively nicknamed ‘the treehouse’ by the Crusaders, had been appropriated by the trio of friends shortly after they became permanent fixtures at the school of friendship. The staff room was nice and all, but they each found that they missed the cozy seclusion that they’d used to have when they were foals. So, the ‘treehouse’ was acquired. It was a circular room with a single window, into which the crusaders had crammed three desks and chairs. The eclectic decor of the room was a blending of their three personalities, with sports trophies and Rainbow dash posters mingling with music stands, potion bottles and plant-pots. Against the wall near the window they’d set up a miniature stove, which was more than likely a health and safety nightmare, however it provided the trio with warmth in the winter. Not to mention the coffee that ranked second only to oxygen in the list of their daily requirements. Applebloom rifled through a stack of papers that were arranged higgledy-piggledy on her desk and attempted to introduce some order to the chaos.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Who’d’ve thought a simple trip to Sweet Apple Acres’d need so much dang paperwork?”

“Hey, it’s a dangerous place,” Scootaloo mocked. “If the school doesn’t cover its bases and some student takes an apple to the head then before you know it we’re getting sued into oblivion.”

Applebloom threw her friend a nettled look. She cocked her head slowly, from one side to the other, stretching and cracking her neck. Her crimson mane bobbed lightly with the movement, and the pink shawl with ceramic brooch that once belonged to her late cousin shifted around her neck.

“Just you wait,” she muttered. “You’ll get it ten times worse when you wanna take your pupils to Cloudsdale.”

Scootaloo grimaced at the thought. Sweetie Belle took a sip of her newly whitened drink and frowned, before rummaging in her drawer for some sugar.

“We need to request a refrigerator for up here.” She sighed. “I’m sick of this whitener.”

“Ah don’t think we wanna be drawing too much attention to the treehouse,” Applebloom cautioned. “Headmare Starlight seems like she’s turned a blind ah to us bein’ up here, but if we start askin’ for extra stuff, she might tell us to go back to the regular staff room.”

“Never!” Scootaloo scowled, once again peeking from the top of her mag. Her mane had lengthened since the days when they’d occupied an actual treehouse, but it was still arranged in the same spikey bob, suspiciously similar to the way her hero used to wear her mane.

“Hmm.” Sweetie Belle grunted thoughtfully. “Maybe we should just buy one ourselves.”

“Good luck getting the thing up here.” The husky-voiced Pegasus lamented.

Sweetie Belle reclined in her chair, following suit to her friend, laying her rear hooves on her desk. She plopped her coffee on a nearby convenient file box and shook her long purple and pink curls free of her withers.

“Well, maybe just a cool-box then.” She pondered. “Are you girls doing anything later?”

“Dance class,” Applebloom replied simply.

“I’m free,” Scootaloo shrugged. “What were-”

She was interrupted by a violent banging at the door. The wood practically bulged inwards at the impact of each one. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo hastily dragged their hooves from their desks, the latter burying her reading material in her bottom drawer. The trio exchanged nervous glances.

“Come in?” Applebloom called, uncertainly. The door was flung open, and a panting and haggard looking Starlight Glimmer stood in the frame. She glanced around the girls darkly for a few seconds before she seemed to realize her threatening demeanor, and her expression softened.

“Headmare Starlight!” Applebloom greeted. “Can we help you with somethin?”

“I know this isn’t going to make me very popular around here,” the headmare began, “but I’m going to need to see all three of you in my office after classes today. Mandatory overtime.”

The Crusaders once again shot worried looks at each other.

“Are we in trouble?” Scootaloo questioned meekly.

“No, no,” Starlight waved a hoof in the air with a smile. Then her serious expression returned. “Why, what have you done?”

“Nothing!” Sweetie Belle protested. She briefly addressed her friends. “Nothing?”

“Nothing.” Scootaloo confirmed.

“Well, that’s alright then.” Starlight said. “I’ll explain everything later. I’m going to need you all to arrange subs for your classes for the foreseeable future though. I have a project that as of right now is going to be all of our top priorities.”

“Whut?” Applebloom protested. “Ah have the Sweet Apple Acres trip next week!”

Starlight allowed her eyes to close for a moment.

“Right. I’d forgotten about that. I’ll arrange for you to be free that day. We’ll work around it, I know how much time you’ve spent organizing it.”

Applebloom nodded, satisfied.

“So, what kind of project is this?” Sweetie Belle enquired.

Starlight silenced her with a raised hoof.

“Not here. Later. All I’ll say for now is that it’s something that’s right up you girls’ alley, and it comes from the top.”

“Tha’ top?” Applebloom gasped. “Whut...the school board?”

Starlight shook her head.

“Later.” She repeated.

A silence settled across the Ponies, the only sounds being the chirping of the birds outside.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your morning preparations,” Starlight breezed. “I’ll see you all in my office later.”

With that, the headmare turned on her hooves, and closed the door lightly behind her. Her rapidly descending hoof-steps mingled with the birdsong but was nevertheless clearly audible in the stunned silence that was left in her wake.

‘Buddy, you’re gonna wanna be awake for this.’

‘Not now brain.’ Spike replied dreamily. ‘Sleeping.’

‘Ok, but you remember last night, right-’

‘What? No? Too tired. Whatever it is it can wait.’

‘Yeah, but seriously-’

‘Nope. I’ll wake up in a little while. Just let me hug this marshmallow a little longer.’

‘Whatever you say man.’

Spike sighed contentedly and gave the marshmallow a little squeeze. It was soft and warm and...huge? That was definitely odd. Had he fallen asleep in Sugar Cube Corner again? He cast his mind back, but the fog of sleep was preventing him from grasping anything solid. He did seem to recall that the previous evening had been pretty stressful though. That was probably why brain was so desperate for him to wake up, there was probably some job or something that he had to do. Well, until that happened naturally, it was just going to have to wait. In his half-asleep state, he obstinately refused to attempt to remember anything further. He was in bed with a humungous confection, that was enough for now. He stretched his legs a little and found that the sweetie stretched with him and let out a sleepy moan of its own. Well, that was certainly strange. For starters, why in the world had he taken a moving, talking, hot-chocolate topper to bed with him? He was once again tempted to try and remember, but he stopped himself. Only the waking world lay in that direction. He’d get to the bottom of this based solely on the information currently available to him, or his name wasn’t Spork the Dragon. Or something.

Now that he ran his hand over the surface of the object, it didn’t feel like a marshmallow should, it was ever so slightly fuzzy, not the dusty, spongey texture he’d have expected. His light touch elicited another grumble from the object, so he stopped. Well, what else did he have to go on? What were his olfactory senses telling him? He took a measured breath through his nose and carefully analyzed the results. It was a familiar, floral scent that he refused to place. Hmm. He supposed he could rule out the marshmallow theory, none of the evidence was adding up. Maybe it was simply that Rare-bear had somehow grown...to...

The memories of the previous evening suddenly and involuntarily flooded his mind. His eyes snapped open; his pupils dilated despite the sudden influx of light. His field of vision was filled with a glorious bouquet of purple curls, and Rarity’s butt was still pressed into him, his hand still resting on her tummy, her breathing causing his arm to rise and fall rhythmically.

‘I told you you’d want to know about this.’ brain taunted.

Spike’s face immediately sprang into a smile that was somewhere between happiness and terror. Now that the memories had half returned, he carefully reviewed the minutes of the previous evening. How, exactly, had he got here?

Met up with Rarity, check.

Drank Yak booze with Rarity, got it.

Walked Rarity back home, sure.

Saved Rarity from Diamond Dog muggers. Wait, what? Saved Rarity from Diamond Dog muggers? Oh, right, right.

Got Rarity back to her place safe and sound, cool.

Kissed Rarity.

Got invited...hold right the trot on. What was that last one? Spike manically sifted through mental notes.

He...he kissed...yeah, that definitely happened. The last of the memory puzzle pieces fell into place as his facial expression settled firmly in camp happiness. The dragon wriggled his body as much as he dared to into the warm fur of the sleeping Unicorn. Once again, she emitted a light peep, but stirred no further. As he enjoyed the feeling of her body against his, he was once again presented with a mild conundrum; what to do next.

‘Holy-moley. Now what’re we supposed to do?’

‘‘We?’’ brain taunted. ‘Well, well, look who suddenly needs my help. Sorry bucko, you’re on your own on this one.’

‘Oh come on, I need some suggestions.’

‘Forget it. I’m far too busy keeping body in check anyway.’

‘Body?’ Spike wondered. ‘Why, what’s he doing?’

‘You mean besides threatening to unleash an erection that’ll damn near fire her out of the bed and across the room? Not much.’

Spike fearfully glanced down. Mercifully, he was still wearing his spare pants. He let out a slow, silent breath of relief.

‘Oh. Well then. You keep on that.’

‘I will, thank you very much.’ brain retorted snippily.

Spike allowed his head to relax back into the pillow where his vision was once again filled with luscious purple mane. Various possibilities of courses of action played out within his mind, and after much pondering he finally selected an elegant choice; he’d pretend to be asleep. It was perfect. He could wait until she woke up, then let her actions dictate his next move. He grinned impishly to himself. His tactical reasoning was so good it was frightening.

In addition, it afforded him more of...well, this. He’d slept in worse places, that was for damn sure. Actually, that was a colossal understatement. Had he ever slept in a better place? His brain momentarily paused in its thankless duty of yanking back the Dragon’s snarling libido on its choke-chain to confirm that no, he hadn’t.

He snuggled down deeper. This had to happen again. He wasn’t letting go now. He thought back to his flight over to Yakyakistan and how he was finally ready to let go of the Rarity shaped torch he’d been carrying all these years. It seemed like the sensible thing to do at the time, given how it was so obvious that she was never going to see him that way. Now though...now that she’d kissed him, and allowed him to share her bed, her most intimate of places...well, there’d be no getting rid of him now. The poor mare would have to burn the boutique down to get him out. And even that was no guarantee.

His hand caressed her tummy in tiny circles as he doggedly fought against the urge to giggle. He lost track of how long he lay there, simply basking in the exquisite sensations that were running through his body. Finally though, as with all good things, Rarity shifted, blearily stepping out of the bed and trotting to the bathroom door. She slipped inside, and again Spike heard the sounds of running water. He shifted onto his back and placed his arms behind his head. There were no windows in Rarity’s back living quarters, and its diminutive size gave the Dragon reason to believe that it was a temporary set-up, just to tide the Unicorn over whilst the shop got on its feet, and she could pass on the management to somepony (or Yak) else. Nevertheless, given the huge glass window at the front of the store and the fact that the only thing separating this room from that one was a thin curtain, there was plenty of light to see by, orange-tinted though it was. It gave the room a cozy feel, one that the small size contributed to.

The Dragon sighed contentedly as the sounds of the Unicorn in the bathroom continued. Presently she emerged, and although the Dragon found that he was unable to eliminate the smile from his face, he closed his eyes quickly to at least give the vague illusion that he was still asleep. Rarity tip-hoofed to the bed and gently touched the Dragon’s arm.

“Spike?” She whispered.

The Dragon’s eyes blinked open, and he beamed up at the Unicorn. Her main and makeup were expertly applied, and she had a thin green scarf wrapped around her neck. A black fedora sat at a jaunty angle upon her head and under the brim her expression was one of mild concern. Spike’s smile drooled off his face as he realized that the fashionista looked ready to go out.

“Morning,” he mumbled, unsure of what to say.

It really didn’t help that he didn’t know where he stood with Rarity. Sure, she kissed him, but that could have just been a heat-of-the-moment type thing, a thank-you for protecting her. He realized with a jolt of fear that if he wanted to know the answers to these questions, he was going to have to actually ask them.

“Spikey sweetie,” Rarity spoke regretfully. Oh no. Here it came. “I hate to do this, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to get up. I’m heading to Canterlot today, and well...Twilight’s picking me up.”

Spike eyes widened.

“Twilight’s coming here?” He gasped, pulling the covers from his body.

“Yes,” Rarity repeated. “You didn’t think I was going to walk to Canterlot, did you?”

Spike leapt out of the bed and began swiftly straightening the covers while Rarity stared on in bemusement.

“I’d better...I mean, it’s not that I want to hide anything, or...” The Dragon awkwardly stumbled.

“But you’d prefer that this isn’t how she found out about us?” Rarity finished his thought for him.

Spike stopped what he was doing and looked over his shoulder at her.

“‘Us’?” He repeated, a sly smile playing about his lips. “There’s an ‘us’?”

Rarity scrunched her eyes closed and silently cursed herself for her poor choice of words.

“No,” She chuckled. “Not yet, anyway.”

Spike turned his body towards her properly, his back to her newly made bed.

“That implies that there’s a chance for there to be an ‘us’.”

Rarity felt her insides turn to goo at his earnest statement. How was it possible that he could be this effortlessly cute? Stifling a giggle, she closed the short gap between them and wrapped her forelegs around his chest. Gosh darn it, she had planned on playing things a little cooler this morning, but seeing him being so nakedly open was enough to sweep her away on the excitement of a new romance. She brought her face flirtatiously close to his.

“There’s always a chance darling,” she smiled. “But you’ll have to play your cards extremely well.”

“I will.” Spike breathed, deadly serious.

Rarity’s smile remained fixed in place, but her brow furrowed. Sweetheart though he may be, this Dragon had much to learn about flirting.

“Good to know,” she purred, allowing her gaze to slide over his muscular chest.

Her eyes lingered for a moment or two before she forced herself to snap out of it. Celestia knew it had been a while, but still...

“But Twilight will be here any minute,” she continued, “so unless you’ve got a particularly cast-iron excuse as to why you spent the night here...”

Spike’s eyes drifted towards her ceiling, inspiration failing to strike.

“I, um... could probably use a teleport back to Canterlot too, if I’m honest...” he mumbled, not relishing the thought of the flight back home.

“Well then, take a quick walk and come back in five minutes.” The Unicorn cooed. “I’m sure she won’t be too surprised to see you dropping in on me unannounced.”

“What makes you say that?” Spike replied, finally hitting the right amorous tone.

Rarity hugged him closer, pressing her belly against his chiseled abs.

“Darling,” she said simply, raising her hat and planting a tiny peck on his snout. “Please.”

“Yeah, fair enough.” He conceded.

“Once we’re back in Canterlot and I’ve had a quiet word with Twilight about our...situation, perhaps we could meet again? On a date, perchance?”

“Yes please.” Spike replied, softly but quickly.

There was the blunt honesty once again and this time Rarity couldn’t prevent a giggle from escaping her lips.

“Good then.” She tittered. “Well then, off you pop.”

Spike nodded, gathered his backpack, and turned to leave. He hesitated for a moment, before turning on his heel and pulled Rarity close to him, planting a kiss on the Unicorn’s lips. Rarity grunted lightly, a mixture of surprise and pleasure, before she melted into his arms. Then he broke the kiss off, gave her one last flash of his amazing green eyes and was gone. A barely audible click told her that he’d unlocked the front door to the shop, and a light tinkle from the bell sounded as the door closed behind him.

Rarity slowly lowered herself back onto all four hooves, her mind a churning soup of pleasure and doubt.

Oh dear. This was all getting a bit too real, wasn’t it? Just what had she gotten herself into? She mentally chided herself. Her best friend’s little brother, for Celestia’s sake. Was she really that hard up? But, she reminded herself, he was exquisitely dashing, attentive, honest almost to a fault and good looking. For a Dragon. She chewed her bottom lip, and silently performed a thought experiment. What if...what if the previous evening’s events had occurred in exactly the same way, except, except, that it wasn’t Spike who’d met her in that Yak dive? Let’s say it was a stallion, to pick a creature at random. Let’s say this place-holder stallion met her in much the same way, was perfectly charming and complimentary, and then let’s say it was he who bravely saved her from a Diamond Dog attack. Let’s also say that he was extremely good looking, several years her junior, and completely smitten with her, just for good measure. What then? Would she have ended up spending the night with this particular mystery colt?

‘That’s not even a question.’ She found her mind saying. ‘First date or not, I’d have ridden him hard enough to make the bed break.’

Holy mother of the sun. She placed a hoof on the mattress to steady herself before she gave up and simply crawled onto it, belly first. She felt the first twinges of excitement creep into her nethers as she contemplated the results of her musings. Well, that was that then. All in all, it actually turned out she’d been restrained with her interactions with the young Dragon. She had to speak with Twilight about this. She’d introduce some much-needed ice water to the fires of her passion. No doubt she’d point out some perfectly logical reason, one that she herself was simply blind to, for why this had to stop, and now. Thank goodness she was on her way.

The thought that the Princess was potentially only minutes away jolted her from the bed and sent her scurrying back into her bathroom. She needed another quick freshening up.

The still tranquility of the snowy mountainside was abruptly interrupted by a flash of purple light and a loud bang. The guard Yaks at the entrance to the village looked on in well disguised awe as the Alicorn dusted herself off with her wings and trotted over towards them. They held their stoic stances until she was almost on top of them, neither one daring to move a muscle. Ordinarily, once a creature was within earshot (as the Alicorn was now) one of them would have made enquiries about who they were and what their business in Yakyakistan was. Neither one of them could bring themselves to do this now though, such was the immense power radiating off the Alicorn. Besides, they both knew perfectly well who she was.

“Princess Twilight Sparkle, humbly requesting access to your beautiful village,” she stated formally, bowing low. There was a brief silence, which Twilight took to mean she was being sized up, but in reality it was just two guard-yaks being at a loss for words. Finally, the leftmost Yak spoke.

“Your Majesty most welcome,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. Unusually, given all her other interactions with Yaks, Twilight found that she had to strain her ears to hear him. “Might Yaks humbly ask purpose of visit?”

“I’m visiting a dear friend.” Twilight smiled sagely. “Miss Rarity. She’s living in your village temporarily while she sets up a store.”

Both Yaks nodded vigorously.

“Of course. Please give Miss Rarity Yak regards.”

With that, both of the guards stamped at the ground as Twilight passed by. She grinned, feeling a guilty pleasure at how starstruck the Yaks were. It was certainly a far cry from when Prince Rutherford and his entourage came to Ponyville and proceeded to kick the living snot out of everything.

As the Princess passed by, and the guards were sure she was out of earshot, the leftmost Yak turned to his colleague.

“Told you so.”

The Princess trotted down the cobbled street, rapidly approaching what appeared to be the huge remains of a bonfire. She could have simply teleported directly to Rarity’s shop of course, though to enter the village, the home of Prince Rutherford, without permission would be the height of rudeness. She lightly tapped her hoof to her chin in thought. Perhaps visiting the village without at least dropping in on the Prince would also be considered rude? She rolled the quandary around her mind for a few minutes. As she turned away from the bonfire and down a twisting back alley, she idly waved a hoof in the air. To Tartarus with it. She’d just send a fruit basket.

The air was still by the time that the Princess arrived at the latest location of Rarity 4 U. It wasn’t snowing, a fact that the Princess was grateful for, as she foolishly hadn’t bothered to don her winter clothes. She simply figured that she wouldn’t be outside for too long, and if she got really cold she could always cast a simple warming spell. She bounded up to the welcoming red door of the establishment and noted that the sign was still flipped in the closed position. Nevertheless, Twilight rapped lightly on the door. She assumed that her friend, knowing that she’d be heading to Canterlot today, had simply not bothered to open. To her surprise, she found that when she knocked, the door opened itself a crack, unlocked. Twilight frowned. That was unusual. She pushed the door open further, poking her head around the entrance.

“Rarity?” She called. “It’s Twilight. Sorry, the door was open, and-”

“Darling!” Rarity announced, emerging from a dark orange curtain at the back of the shop. She looked like her usual radiant self, if a little guilty, as though Twilight had just walked into the middle of...something. “Do come in out of the cold, dear.”

“Thank you,” Twilight replied, tapping the snow from her hooves before she stepped inside the shop. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Not at all, darling!” Rarity replied, her voice slightly too loud and rehearsed. “I was just putting some final touches on some Yak pieces.”

“Oh?” Twilight exclaimed, looking around the room. She regarded the various Yak shaped mannequins. She was dimly aware that not one of them looked particularly finished. “How’s that going over here? Do you have a long list of Yak clients?”

“Hardly,” Rarity grumbled, magically levitating two hoofbags in front of her face and closely scrutinizing each one. “To tell you the truth, business has been pretty slow. It seems fashion ranks pretty low on the list of Yak priorities.”

“I see,” Twilight responded, lightly flapping her wings against her sides awkwardly. “I’m sorry.”

Rarity looked up from her accessory selection process. Twilight was looking slightly uncomfortable, unsure of what to say. Rarity smiled at her friend, somewhat touched that she felt her problems as acutely as this, more than she herself did, even.

“Phaa, it’s nothing to worry about, darling.” The Unicorn offered, waving her hoofbags in the air. “I just haven’t been able to get inside these Yak-mares heads yet. But I will.”

“If anypony can, it’s you.” Twilight brightened.

“You’re too kind. Now help me out with this.” Rarity hovered both the bags she was examining under the Princess’ nose. “Which of these do you think is more appropriate?”

Twilight’s eyes bounced between the two hoofbags. One was a white imitation-leather with silver piping, while the other was white imitation-leather with silver piping. The Princess gave up comparing the two and offered Rarity a blank stare, waiting for a punchline that never came. Rarity stared back expectantly.

“Rarity, these bags are identical.”

The pale Unicorn raised a hoof to her chest in mock outrage.

“They are not identical,” She responded indignantly. “This one is cream, while this one is quite obviously arctic silver.”

She levitated each one in turn as she spoke, highlighting the differences to the Princess. Twilight once again took a look between the two.

“Hmm,” She bluffed. “I think...I think I like the arctic silver one.”

“Really?” Rarity said, holding the bag on the left aloft. “You’re sure? It needs to be right for both the chilly weather here and clement Canterlot, after all.”

“Yep, that’s the one!” Twilight raised her head back up. She leveled a nervous smile at the designer. Suddenly the bell at the front of the store let out a little tinkle, and Spike stepped in. Twilight turned around to see who their visitor was, and as she did so Rarity took the opportunity to ditch both of the identical bags in a convenient drawer. Thank Celestia for that. Her little gambit wouldn’t have held forever, but she needed to delay Twilight just enough so that Spikey could make his entrance.

“Hello...Oh, hey Twilight! Fancy running into you here.” Spike said, completely unnaturally.

While Twilight was still turned away, Rarity clapped a hoof to her face.

“Spike!” Twilight exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Spike lightly closed the door behind him and stood sheepishly in the main room of the store. His eyes drifted over the furniture and furnishings; anywhere but the Princess’ eyes.

“Well, I, uh, I handled that zoning dispute you gave me yesterday...I thought I’d drop in and say hello to Rarity before I left.”

The Dragon finally forced his eyes to the mares in the room, but only for the briefest of moments.

“Hey Rarity.” He added, idly toying with a ribbon hanging from one of the mannequins.

“Spike,” Rarity greeted him somewhat stiffly, a thin smile spreading over her lips.

It was only then that Twilight returned her attention to her Unicorn friend. She peered at Rarity through narrowed eyes. The seamstress did her best to appear nonchalant, brushing an imaginary fleck of dust from her forehoof. If the Princess suspected something, she said nothing.

“Well, you picked a bad time,” Twilight apologized, turning her attention back upon Spike. “I’m afraid I was just about to take Rarity back with me to Canterlot. We have our meet up with the girls today.”

“Oh, well, maybe I could tag along with you guys?” The Dragon asked hopefully. “I’m supposed to have another follow up meeting with the Yak trader, but it doesn’t have-”

“That’s a great idea,” Twilight cut him off. “And don’t worry about the follow up; I’ll have somepony else do it. I have a new job for you when we get back that’s going to be taking up most of your time for the foreseeable future.”

“Oh,” Spike replied, with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. “Goody.”

Rarity stifled a giggle at her purple (more than?) friend’s sarcastic remark and closed the gap between herself and Twilight.

“Are you ready then?” The Princess addressed Rarity. “You have the perfect hoofbag for the trip?”

“Hmm, on second thoughts hoofbags are out this season,” Rarity mused theatrically. “Probably better to just go without.”

Twilight failed to disguise an eyeroll.

“Spike, you ready?”

“Yep,” The Dragon replied amiably, stepping into what he knew was the proximity of Twilight’s teleportation capabilities.

Once Spike was close enough, Twilight raised her wings in preparation.

“Oh, wait, wait!” Rarity gasped.

This elicited not only another eyeroll from the ruler but an exhalation through pursed lips. Rarity dashed to the shop door, turned the lock, and returned to Twilight’s side with slightly reddened cheeks.

“Sorry.” She offered.

“Now is everypony ready?” Twilight asked, swinging a wide-eyed glance between her companions. Rarity and Spike nodded enthusiastically. Twilight raised her wings, there was a flash of purple light and a roar of magic, and suddenly they were in one of the dining rooms of Canterlot castle. It was far from the largest, but it was still extravagant enough, the usual Canterlotian decor of silk drapes and crystal finery very much in place. A circular table had been set with six places, in much the same way Twilight had the old map room set up back when they were all still living in ponyville.

“I’m sorry Spike, I didn’t think you’d be joining us.” Twilight fussed. “I can have an extra place added if you like?”

“No, that’s ok,” Spike smiled. “I think I’ll go take a shower.”

“Ok, before you do though, let me get your next job details for you.” Twilight said excitedly. “It’s a biggie.”

“Ok.” Spike sighed. “I’ll be in my room then.”

“Twilight,” Rarity piped up, causing Spike to pause on his trip out of the room. “Do you think we might have a chance to have a quick chat in private when you get back?”

The Dragon shot her a nervous smile which went thankfully unnoticed by Twilight.

“Er, yes of course.” Twilight replied, slightly taken aback by the intensity of the Unicorn’s gaze. “I’m expecting the rest of the girls soon, but we should have a little bit of time before they arrive.”

“Thank you,” Rarity sighed apprehensively, pulling a chair from the table and daintily sitting herself down.

“Just give me two minutes.” Twilight said with a fair amount of confusion, picking up on her friend’s body language. She turned to Spike, offered him a nod, and gestured to the doorway with an outstretched wing. Spike returned her nod, smiled, and the pair left Rarity alone with her thoughts.

Spike stepped into his bedroom and allowed his battered rucksack to slump from his shoulder and fall to the floor. He paused to retrieve Rarebear from the pocket and placed her lovingly under the covers of his bed, her tiny head protruding from the top. Her button eyes regarded him darkly.

“Don’t give me that look.” He said defensively. “What was I supposed to do?”

The room wasn’t the most ostentatious in the castle, not by a country mile, but it was more than adequate as far as he was concerned. There was a simple wooden framed bed, underneath which were stored several dusty cardboard boxes stuffed with comic books, a chest of drawers that served the dual function as a storage space for his spare trousers and a dumping ground for various items such as action figures and other curios, a desk and chair that he rarely used and two doors; one a closet and the other a miniscule bathroom. He sighed contentedly before scratching his head and wondering what to do next. He did need a shower, but he supposed that there was little point in doing that before Twilight returned with his job. The way he was feeling, the thought of sitting still didn’t appeal in the slightest. He felt excited, wired, like there was electricity instead of blood coursing through his veins.

In a sudden flash of inspiration, he moved to his closet door and flung it open. There on a shelf, lurking in the gloom, there was a record player that he’d received one Hearthswarming from Twilight many years ago. With a grin he reached up and lifted it from its perch, before a gust of warm air from his lungs blasted multiple layers of dust away from the machine. Reaching up again, he grasped blindly for a handful of records, before carrying the whole lot over to his desk. Pulling the chair out of the way, he set the player down and began rifling through the titles. Ballads? No. Love songs? Bleh. Dragon rap? Maybe? Finally, he settled on a record bearing a picture of a Pegasus wearing gold shades and the title of ‘Unadulterated Funk’. Good enough. Easing the vinyl from its sleeve, he placed it carefully on the player, set the needle, and gave the machine a good few cranks, likely more than was strictly required. After a few moments of crackling silence, a heavy bassline filled the small room, and was soon joined by a magically augmented brass and string section as the swing music got into full...well, swing.

Frowning and bobbing his head in appreciation, the Dragon cranked the volume to an appropriately ear-bleeding level and began to shamelessly dance around the small room. He span on the spot, his claws clawing mercilessly at the shag carpet, leaned back as far as he was able before hoisting himself back up and threw some improvised body-popping movements. He spied the chair that he’d moved earlier facing him, so he dashed at it, stepping one foot on the seat and the other on the backrest before he tilted forward, riding the chair on its descent to the floor. He performed another spin on the spot and found that when his momentum stopped, he was facing his open doorway, a bemused looking Twilight Sparkle framed within it. Her mouth moved as if she was speaking, her eyebrow raised, but with the volume from Spike’s record player being what it was, her voice had no hope of penetrating the din. With a scowl and shake of her head, her horn glowed purple, and the noise of the music subsided to acceptable background levels.

“Hey Twilight,” The dragon grinned, not bothering to cease his gyrating.

“Spike.” Twilight responded suspiciously. “You’re in a good mood.”

It hadn’t been a question, but her tone suggested intrigue and implored Spike to elaborate.

“Just glad to be back home after a job well done is all.” He panted, dropping to the floor and attempting to do the worm with limited success.

“Yes, well...” Twilight started, levitating a couple of pieces of parchment above the Dragon. “Look, can you just stop for a second?”

The Alicorn lifted the needle from the record, killing the music altogether. Spike jumped up from the floor, standing to attention, but his devilish smile never left his lips. It was an expression that Twilight had seen for most of her life, and it could mean only one thing; this Dragon was up to something.

“Here’s what you need to know for this next job,” she stated, still eyeballing him questioningly.

Spike accepted the parchments and scanned them thoroughly, what little of them there was to scan. The first was just an equipment requisition form, while the other, where the actual job should have been, simply read:

Ponyville.

Defer to Headmare Starlight Glimmer for further instructions.

Spike instinctively checked the back for further clues but found none. He glanced back up to Twilight.

“That’s it?”

The Princess nodded.

“Yes. This is classified work, so I’d prefer there not to be too much of a paper trail. Starlight will fill you in on all the specifics when you arrive in Ponyville. You’ll be staying at the School of Friendship.”

Spike once again turned the paper over in his claws.

“Did you really need to write this down? You could have just told me.”

Twilight’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“W-well, you know I like a certain amount of formality with these matters...” She floundered.

“Waste of parchment, if you ask me.” Spike muttered under his breath.

“Be that as it may,” Twilight snarked, “I want that requisitions form back in my hooves by the end of the day, and I want you in Ponyville being briefed by Starlight ASAP.”

Spike looked her dead in the eye, catching her tone.

“Yes Ma’am.” He sighed.

Twilight nodded, satisfied.

“Thank you,” she said, her tone softening. “I’ll let you get back to...whatever this is.”

She gestured to the record player. Spike offered her a theatrical bow before she turned on her hooves, disappearing as quickly as she’d arrived. Spike allowed himself a few seconds of wondering what this new job entailed before he returned the needle to the record, cranked the volume back to maximum and continued his impromptu dance session. Deciding that his bedroom was too small to truly express himself, he found himself boogieing right out of the door Twilight had just gone through.

Rarity nervously poured herself a glass of water from a convenient pitcher that was on the table and levitated it to her lips taking a miniscule sip. Setting it back on the table, she idly prodded a silver fork so that it lay more perpendicular to the knife on the other side of the plate. In all things, propriety.

She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. Her stomach was in knots, and her traitorous body had coated her with a sheen of cold sweat. She was most certainly not looking forward to the conversation she was about to have. She heard a muffled sound that sounded like music coming from somewhere else in the castle. For a few moments it died down, only to return again with renewed intensity. Lightly tapping her foot, she glanced around the room, both eager for and dreading the return of the Princess in equal measures. The dining room was lined with various open archways to corridors that led off to other parts of the castle, giving the room a certain ‘open-air’ feel to it. She supposed that it was to allow various servants and staff to breeze into the room as required to tend to any whims that the Princess’ guests may have. The billowing purple drapes that hung alongside the colossal windows to the right of the table were adorned with caricatures of the four adult Princesses, and the white mare couldn’t help but allow her gaze to linger on the exquisite mastery of the craftsponyship. As her eyes traced the outline of the stitched Twilight Sparkle figure, her mind instantly returned to her unhappy task. With irritation her eyes switched to the window, taking in the infinity of blue skies punctuated with fluffy clouds. It was a stark and pleasing contrast from the perpetual grey that seemed to hang over Yakyakistan. She forced herself to attempt to relax. Twilight was an old friend, perhaps her best friend, one with whom she could talk about anything with, even acutely awkward topics such as this one. She just had to relax.

“Sorry about that,” Twilight said airily, trotting back into the room. Well, so much for relaxing.

She threw an uncertain glance over her withers back the way she’d come from, wondering just what was going on with Spike. Rarity looked up at her guiltily.

“You...you wanted to talk to me about something?” Twilight asked, taken aback by her friend’s reproachable body language. “Is everything alright?”

Rarity stood and diffidently paced up and down alongside the table. She removed her hat from her head and clutched it in front of herself with her magic. Finally, she turned to face Twilight.

“Darling...there’s no easy way of saying this, so I shall just have to say it,” the Unicorn clichéd, nervously twirling her hat in front of herself as though it were the steering wheel of a small yacht. “Last night, I... well, I’m afraid I rather...flirted with your brother. A little bit.”

Twilight’s jaw dropped in a silent gasp. She raised her hoof to her face as she gave her friend a wide eyed stare. Rarity’s eyes sank to the carpet. This was the reaction she’d dreaded.

“Rarity!” Twilight wheezed. “How could you?!”

“I know, I’m sorry!” The Unicorn pleaded. “It’s just we met last night, we had some drinks together, one thing led to another, he offered to walk me home, on the way he saved me from some Diamond Dog muggers...”

“Diamond Dogs?” Twilight repeated, allowing a sneer of confusion to overpower the outrage on her face. She shook her head clear of the feeling. They’d come back to that soon enough.

“Did anything else happen?” Twilight demanded angrily.

“Yes,” Rarity winced, her voice tiny and feeble. “We...kissed...”

“WHAT?!”

Rarity shrank away from her friend, her body language more resembling their mutual friend Fluttershy than her usual fabulous own.

“And then we shared a bed for the night...” Rarity said pathetically, still unable to look Twilight in the eye.

“But nothing happened!” She hastened to add. “Nothing apart from a tiny bit of cuddling, anyway.”

Twilight sank into a convenient chair, her hoof still pressed to her mouth. She slowly lowered it, her eyes fixed on her friend who was still squirming. A dreadful silence descended upon the room.

“Does Cadance know?” Twilight finally asked coldly.

Rarity was snapped from her guilty staring at the carpet, and she looked at Twilight in confusion.

“...no? I don’t think... Why would Princess Cadance-”

Then the bit dropped. Rarity erupted into a light fit of giggles as Twilight looked on with renewed fury.

“I don’t think this is anything to laugh about!” She nearly screamed.

“Twiliiight,” Rarity elongated, still suppressing laughter. “I’m not talking about Shining Armor. I’m talking about your other brother. Spike.”

A torrent of relief washed over the Princess.

“Ohhhhh,” She breathed, the anger leaving her body instantly and her expression softening. As the Unicorn’s mirth dissipated it was then her turn to look indignant.

“What type of homewrecker do you take me for?” She scowled.

“Oh...well, gee, Rarity, I’m sorry, it’s just you said ‘brother’ and my mind just went to...” She trailed off, somehow now on the defensive. She was actually pretty ashamed that Rarity had said the word ‘brother’ and it hadn’t even occurred to her that she might be talking about Spike.

“I’m sorry.” The Alicorn said finally.

“Hm.” Rarity tutted. Then she too allowed the irritation to seep from her body. “You’re...not upset then?”

Twilight met her gaze evenly.

“No!” She protested. “Why would I be?”

That, she realized, was another reason why her mind had been led in the direction of thinking that they were talking about Shining. Rarity’s accountable demeanor.

“Well, I don’t know?” Rarity moaned. “He’s your little brother, your little Spikey-wikey...”

“Nope, never called him that.” Twilight said as an aside.

“...and I thought that I was maybe crossing a line, I mean, I’m old enough to be his...” Rarity continued before trailing off again.

Twilight raised an eyebrow.

“...big sister?” The Unicorn finished uncertainly. Twilight rolled her eyes.

“I really don’t think that’s a problem.” The Alicorn stated, leaning forward in her chair.

“Well, what about the fact that he’s a Dragon and I’m a Unicorn, hmm?”

“Our old students Sandbar and Yona are married,” Twilight pointed out. “He’s a pony and she’s a Yak. Seems to work for them.”

“Oh, that’s different, Twilight.” Rarity dismissed.

“Why?”

“Well, they’re both...” Rarity started. She really was beginning to make a habit out of this trailing off business.

Once again Twilight shot her friend a pointed look.

“...quadrupeds.” Rarity finished feebly. This elicited yet another eye-roll from the Princess.

“I don’t think I, nor anycreature else for that matter, would have a problem if you and Spike wanted to...” Twilight paused, grasping for the right word. Rarity stared intensely.

“Date.” She landed on. “And frankly, I think you’re now just throwing obstacles in the way because you’re scared.”

“I am not!” Rarity pouted with faux outrage.

“Oh, so you would like to date Spike?”

“I... I’m not saying that either,” Rarity spoke diplomatically. “But let’s, for the sake of argument, say that I did...”

Twilight bit back a guffaw. She’d said both of those statements in the same breath.

“That would be okay?” She enquired timidly.

“Of course!” Twilight smiled. “It’s not as if anypony can tell you who you are and aren’t allowed to see.”

Rarity raised a hoof to her chin ponderously, as a second, albeit far less tense silence fell on the room. It hung for a good thirty seconds or so before Twilight shattered it.

“So, you and Spike, huh?” She grinned.

Rarity’s cheeks flushed.

“Yes, well.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll have you know that your little brother has become rather dashing in recent years.”

“You kissed him, huh?”

Rarity shot her friend an exasperated look.

“Yes, Twilight I did. Do you want all the sordid little details? How his tongue felt in my mouth?”

“Nope, no, no, no.” Twilight backpedaled faster than Rainbow Dash during cider season. “It certainly explains a thing or two around here though.”

“Oh?” Rarity replied, intrigued. “Like what?”

“Well for starters why I’ve got a Dragon dancing around the Royal Palace like he’s Fred-trotting-Astmare.”

As if to accentuate her point, a purple Dragon shaped silhouette just then moonwalked past one of the open doorways behind her. Rarity hid her laughter behind her hat. Twilight whipped her head around but missed the elusive drake. She returned her gaze to Rarity, through narrowed eyes. The Unicorn did her best to conceal her merriment, with little success. It was nice to know that her effect on stallions was not only still very much active, but also somehow managed to cross species lines. Once she was capable of speaking again, she sat down next to the Princess. Lightly touching her hoof to hers, she looked earnestly into the Alicorn’s eyes.

“Thank you, Twilight.” She said, beginning to wonder what she’d been so worried about.

“Think nothing of it,” The Princess replied with a smile. “Do...do you know what you want to do though?”

Rarity leaned back in her chair and sucked in air through her teeth. Her eyes regarded the exquisitely ornate ceiling as she returned her hat to her head.

“Wellll...” She started, “I have all but promised the little darling a date, so I suppose we shall just have to see where things go from there.”

Twilight nodded.

“If...” Twilight said tactfully, “If things don’t go well though, do you think you could maybe give me a heads up?”

In her mind, Twilight was already analyzing the potential fallout from Spike having his heart broken. That would not be a pleasant mess to have to clean up, especially if the Dragon was in the midst of one of the most important jobs the Alicorn had ever handed him.

“Of course, Darling.” Rarity replied. If she was in any way offended by Twilight’s implication, she made no sign of it.

Just then, a Unicorn stallion in a butler’s uniform appeared in the doorway. He stared disinterestedly over a pair of half-moon spectacles at the mares.

“Your highness,” he spoke formally, his voice deep and polished, “Mrs. Cheese-Pie, Miss Applejack and Miss Rainbow Dash have arrived. Shall I...?”

“Yes, please send them through, Crisp. Thank you.” Twilight replied, turning her head to address him.

“Very good, Ma’am.” Crisp replied. “The kitchen ponies have made some pastries in preparation for your guests. Would you like them sent up along with some light refreshments?”

“Yes please.”

Crisp bowed to the Princess, then to Rarity, and disappeared as rapidly as he’d arrived.

“Sometimes I confess I’m quite envious of you, Twilight.” Rarity smiled. Twilight rolled her eyes at her friend, with a smile of her own. Presently, they heard voices approaching the room, one high pitched and bubbly, one drawling and one husky, unmistakably the sounds of their friends. As they grew closer, Rarity whispered.

“Not a word about Spikey-wikey and myself.”

Twilight made a show of miming zipping her mouth shut. Just then Crisp Suit appeared in the doorway once again, stepping aside to allow Twilight’s guests to enter. Rainbow Dash strode proudly into the room, her short mane swept back over her head, wearing her Wonder Bolts bomber jacket.

“Miss Rainbow Dash.” Crisp announced unnecessarily.

“Heya guys,” Rainbow grinned, offering the seated mares a clumsy salute.

“Miss Applejack.” Crisp said as Applejack trotted in behind her marefriend. Her usual Stetson rode on the back of her head, and the shawl of her late Granny Smith was wrapped around her neck.

“Howdy y’all!”

“Mrs. Cheese-Pie.” Crisp said finally.

Pinkie Pie sauntered into the room. Her mane was decorated with what appeared to be sprinkles and confetti, and nestled therein were various toys and other mysterious objects. Unlike her friends, she took a moment to address the butler.

“Thanks, Crispy!” She beamed, using her bizarrely prehensile quiff to rummage around for something in the main body of her mane. At length she produced a lollipop, sans wrapper, and stuck the sticky treat to Crisp’s lapel.

“Something for yourself,” she winked conspiratorially.

Crisp suit made no indication of his feelings about having a possibly half-sucked sucker attached to his uniform, nor did he make any attempt to remove it.

“Appreciated as always, Mrs. Cheese-Pie.” He monotoned.

There was a good few minutes of greetings, hugs, fussing and recriminations for sticking candy to the help. Crisp assured the mares that he would return with refreshments shortly and took his leave. Once the friends were finished with their pleasantries, complementing each other’s outfits (mostly Rarity), complaining about the train ride (mostly Rainbow Dash), and impatiently demanding just where the cakes were (mostly Pinkie Pie), Applejack spoke up.

“Say, where’s Fluttershy?”

“I’m expecting her any minute,” Twilight replied. “She’s arriving by her...usual method.”

The Princess frowned, glancing to the side. Applejack nodded in understanding. As if on cue, a portal opened in the corner of the room, and a butter-colored Pegasus stepped through. A yellow-eyed head with mis-matched horns and a single large fang, attached to a snake-like neck followed through after her. Discord nuzzled at his beloved’s cheek, planted a kiss on the top of her head, before retracting back into the portal, where it closed behind him.

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m late,” Fluttershy blustered softly, making her way to the table, her long pink mane tied back in a ponytail.

“Not at all!” Twilight responded, privately overjoyed that Discord hadn’t lingered. “You’re right on time.”

Fluttershy took her seat at the table, and the pleasantries began anew. As promised, nary a few minutes went by before Crisp Suit returned, this time pushing an elegant service trolley piled high with all manner of sweet treats. The stallion wasted no time in dispensing various dishes to the ladies, including an extra-extra-large slice of cheesecake for Pinkie Pie. As her butler passed her by, Twilight took a moment to whisper in his ear.

“Could you please give us a few minutes, Crisp? I have something...sensitive I need to discuss with my friends.”

“Very good, Ma’am.” The Unicorn replied. He rapidly and efficiently delivered the rest of the requested confections to the table, before packing up his cart, and removing himself from the room.

“Hey! Where’s he going?” Pinkie piped up, her muzzle bearing the remains of her Manehatten cheesecake. “I wasn’t even near done with that trolley!”

“Sorry Pinkie,” Twilight blushed. “I’ll get him back here in a few minutes, there’s just something important I wanted to discuss with you girls first.”

The last of the idle chatter died down as her five friends looked at her inquisitively. In particular, Rarity placed her forelegs on the table and leaned forward, her remaining half of a strawberry tart forgotten. My my, it seemed that this particular gathering was shaping up to be just full of revelations. They waited for the Princess to speak, but she instead closed her eyes, her horn glowing a raspberry pink. As the spell pushed itself out of her horn, it ballooned out and within a few moments had engulfed the whole room, washing over the ponies and sticking to the walls, floor and ceiling with its warm hue. The five friends looked over their shoulders to discover that the room had now become a gently pulsating pink bubble.

“Whut tha’ hay?” Applejack murmured, prodding at the magic coating the floor with her hoof.

“It’s a simple warding spell,” Twilight announced. “It means we can talk without anypony overhearing. The walls have ears.”

“Huh? They do?” Pinkie craned her neck to look at the wall behind her. “Hey wall!”

“Pinkie...” Rainbow eyed the pink pony incredulously.

“Huh? What?” Pinkie turned back around from waving at the wall to get its attention. Then her eyes widened in realization.

“Oh, right!” She smiled slyly at Dash. “The ward-wotsit spell. Gotcha.”

Fluttershy tactfully cleared her throat, focusing the severely nonplussed Princess on her.

“Um, what was it that you wanted to talk to us about, Twilight?”

“Yeah, and how come it needs...this?” Rainbow chirped, waving a hoof at the walls.

Twilight took a deep breath, focusing her thoughts. She had wanted to keep this more under wraps than it was, but now that it seemed like the crusaders were directly involved in the project, it was her duty as Princess, neigh, as a friend to let the mares know.

“Everything I’m about to tell you is classified information. Pinkie, I’m going to need a Pinkie promise from you that you won’t breathe a word of the super-secret stuff I’m about to say to anycreature.”

The pink mare shrugged.

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!” She recited cheerfully.

Twilight nodded. It was more than good enough for her.

“Regular promises from the rest of you will be fine.”

There was a chorus of affirmation from around the table, except for Fluttershy who timidly raised her hoof.

“Can I tell Discord?” she asked timidly. “He does so like to be kept updated-”

“NO!” Twilight snapped; a lot more harshly than she’d meant to. She took a moment to compose herself, while Fluttershy shrank back into her chair.

“No,” The Princess repeated, more softly. “I’m sorry Fluttershy, I didn’t mean to yell, but I’m setting a project in motion and it’s highly sensitive. It’s not that I don’t trust Discord-” Twilight could just see Applejack and Rainbow Dash exchanging guarded glances at that statement out of the corner of her eye - “but I really don’t want him trying to help with it.”

“Oh, I see.” Fluttershy offered a weak smile. “I promise too then.”

“Thank you,” The Princess replied effusively, once again pausing to carefully consider her next words.

By this time Rarity was on the edge of her seat. Whatever this was it was growing more intriguing and juicy by the minute. Twilight continued.

“The project I’ve begun is one that I’m not sure any of you are going to like, but believe me when I say, I’ve put years of thought into it. This is something that I confess, has been clawing at me for some time now.”

Rarity’s lips parted slightly, as she started to see where the Princess was going.

“In a nutshell, it’s a rehabilitation project, and the subjects of the project are Cozy Glow, Former Queen Chrysalis and Lord Tirek.”

There was a chorus of gasps from around the table.

“WHAT?!” Rainbow exploded, slamming her hoof on the tabletop, making the crockery and Fluttershy jump. “Tell me this is a joke.”

“Now, now, sugar cube...” Applejack placed a hoof on her marefriend’s foreleg in an attempt to calm.

“It gets worse,” Twilight said evenly. “Starlight Glimmer is in charge of the operation, and I asked her to get me a list of ponies that would be working under her. The first three names she gave me were...” Twilight paused, faltering at the final hurdle.

“Were the Cutie Mark Crusaders.” She finished finally.

“WHAT?!” Now it was Applejack’s turn to slam the table, with both hooves this time. She reared onto her hindlegs and snorted angrily across the half-eaten pastries.

“Ain’t no way in Tartarus that mah little sister is workin’ to help those...those criminals!”

Twilight sat in her chair stiffly. Her expression was neither a frown nor a smile.

“I understand.” Twilight said neutrally. “I’ll tell Starlight she has to find somepony else.”

Applejack nodded fiercely as Twilight turned to Rainbow Dash.

“I take it you feel the same way about Scootaloo?”

“Well, yeah,” Rainbow huffed. “But it isn’t like I can tell her she can’t. I’m not her real sister, and if I tell her no, she’ll just do it anyway. It’ll be the Washouts all over again.”

“If you like, I’ll tell Starlight to strike her name off the list too. She’ll never know it came from you.” Twilight said.

Rainbow looked at the Princess, seeming to consider her offer, before shaking her head.

“No, no,” She grumbled. “I mean, what if the project goes off without a hitch, and the mean three get turned good, and all the ponies involved are heroes, and Scootaloo is, like super depressed or whatever because it could have been her, it should have been her, and it’s all my fault, only she doesn’t know that...” Rainbow trailed off.

“No.” She finished. “Nuts to that. Let ‘er do it.”

Applejack could only glare at her marefriend, before she turned to Rarity.

“Rarity?” She asked, still looming over the table. “Whadda y’all think about all this? It’s your sister too.”

Rarity ran her hoof through her mane. Just how did she feel about all this? She couldn’t say she was all that surprised that Starlight had selected the CMC’s for this particular assignment. It was after all their raison d’etre, was it not? And after all, Sweetie Belle was a grown mare. And would she, Rarity, herself have balked if the Princess had asked for help with something of this magnitude, back in the day? Tartarus, would she balk now? You could bet your flank not. She took a quick glance at the Princess and smiled. Twilight had been most gracious with her confession earlier. The least she could do would be to return the favor.

“I think Sweetie Belle is grown enough to make her own decisions.” She responded airily. “Besides, one assumes that Starlight has taken every precaution necessary to ensure the safety of everypony involved, hm?”

“I don’t have all the details yet, but she’s throwing together an action plan as we speak.” Twilight assured.

“There, you see?” The Unicorn turned to Applejack. The farmer’s ire seemed to be waning, and she slowly lowered her flank to her seat. Her glare, however, remained.

“And I also assume that you’ll be monitoring Starlight’s progress closely, ready to step in if needed?” Rarity continued, turning back to Twilight.

“Absolutely.” The Alicorn replied. “I’m assigning Spike to her for the duration to give me regular updates.

At this, Rarity did raise an eyebrow, but she said nothing. So, it wasn’t just her sister, but her maybe brand-new Dragon-colt-friend too? Marvelous. Her thoughts on the matter were cut short by Applejack.

“Well, that’s all well and good, but it don’t change tha’ fact that this is plum terrible idea!”

“I can see why you might think that.” Twilight said, as tactfully as she could.

“Whut in tarnation makes you think that they can even be reformed? After what they did?” Applejack spat. Rainbow nodded from her still slumped position in the chair but didn’t say anything.

“Nothing.” Twilight replied. “It’s not so much about reforming them, it’s more about giving them a chance. Starlight got hers. Discord got his. A few times, if the brutal truth is to be told. If they can’t or won’t do it, then they’ll be returned to stone.”

Applejack folded her forelegs and finally looked away.

“Applejack,” Twilight continued. “Cozy Glow is a foal. She should be the same age as your sister, but she isn’t, because she’s been stone for the last decade. Could you live with that? Could you live with leaving her to her fate without even trying?”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Ah...ah reckon not.” The orange mare finally conceded. Twilight nodded.

“Now you see why this is something that needs to be done. I’ve already waited far too long as it is. I want you to know, all of you, that you’re my best friends, and I respect all of you enough to tell you what’s going on. And Applejack, I respect your position on your sister, which is why I’ll be pulling her from the project.”

“Thank you.” Applejack replied, finally relenting her anger.

“I think it’s a noble idea.” Fluttershy squeaked. Twilight smiled warmly at her friend.

“Thank you, Fluttershy.”

Once again a ponderous silence descended over the table.

“Well,” Twilight said at length, “If nopony has any more thoughts on the matter, I can end the spell.”

“Yeah!” Pinkie exclaimed. “Mama needs cake!”

Twilight smiled and abruptly ended the spell. The glow that surrounded the room flickered and died, and Twilight sent a magical ping from her horn to let Crisp know that they were ready for round two of treats. Minutes later Crisp returned and furnished Pinkie Pie with a much-needed sugar boost. Conversation continued, albeit at a more subdued rate. Twilight silently kicked herself, she should have waited until the end of their get together, her revelation had created a black cloud that hung over table, particularly over Applejack and Rainbow Dash’s side. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. If only she had some juicy yet trivial gossip to impart.

‘Well,’ her mind spoke. ‘There’s always...’

Twilight blinked. She couldn’t. Could she? Maybe if she just kept the names out of it? That could work. At the next lull in the conversation, the Princess spoke up.

“Actually, now that I think of it, I do have a friendship problem that I could use you girl’s perspective on.”

“Oh?” Fluttershy responded. “What kind of friendship problem?”

“Well,” Twilight began, aware that all eyes had turned to her, even the huffy Applejack. “As you know, I watch over the dream realm now. The other day I’d arranged to meet a friend in her dreams to discuss something. Well, I should have looked before I leapt, so to speak, but I didn’t, and I ended up walking straight into a... naughty dream.”

Twilight’s face reddened at the memory. She was about to plough on, but she was interrupted.

“A naughty dream?” Rainbow Dash asked. “What, you mean like, somepony stealing or something?”

Applejack fixed her marefriend with a furrowed browed stare and held it for several seconds.

“What?” The former Wonder Bolt shrugged.

“No, ya dingbat!” Applejack chided. “She means one o’ them sexy dreams.”

“Oh. Ohhh!” Rainbow chuckled. “Twilight, seriously?”

“Y-yes...” The Alicorn replied, not meeting her friend’s gaze.

“Didya see much?” Rainbow pressed, leaning forward, suddenly interested.

“Oh my...” Fluttershy raised her hoof to her mouth, hiding her smile.

“No, I made myself known before it went too far,” Twilight murmured. “But that’s not the point!”

Rainbow blew a loud raspberry.

“Boring!”

“The point is,” Twilight laboriously plodded on, “is that the other mare in this dream was her best friend, so now I’m wondering if it’s indicative of some deeper feelings, or if it’s just ‘one of those things’, which it what she insists that it is.”

“Oh, oh, I know those types of dreams!” Pinkie raised her face from her third apple fritter. “They’re super-hot but also super confusing and then you wake up and your bed’s turned into a paddling pool-”

The other five mares shot Pinkie nauseated looks and an ‘Eww’ was heard from Rainbow Dash.

“What?” Pinkie protested. “C’mon, we’ve all been there.”

“Well, be that as it may,” Rarity interjected. “Twilight, do you know if this is a dream that Starlight has had about Trixie before?”

Everypony except for Twilight shot the Unicorn a confused glance.

“Well, she says it’s happened once or twice before, but-”

Twilight stopped dead in her tracks. Oh no.

“How did you know I was talking about Starlight and Trixie?!” The Alicorn demanded, creating a peal of laughter to erupt from the other five fillies. Even Applejack let out a few chuckles.

“Oh darling,” Rarity replied, wiping a tear from her eye. “Do give me a little credit. I am an accomplished amateur sleuth you know.”

Applejack offered the Unicorn a hoof bump, which she gladly accepted.

“No, seriously.” Twilight pressed. “How did you do that?”

“Well, if you insist I show my reasoning,” Rarity shook her mane behind her head, secretly delighted that she’d been handed an opportunity to show her reasoning. “You said that it was a ‘she’ who had this dream. It was possible you were talking about yourself, but given your body language, not likely. Additionally, if it had been about yourself, you probably wouldn’t have wanted to announce it to a group of friends. It would have been much more reasonable to assume that you’d have wanted to have that conversation one-on-one with a friend. So then, could it have been somepony in this room? Again, possible, but highly unlikely. You have far too much tact for that, darling. So, we’re looking for a mare, who isn’t in this room, but who is sufficiently close to you that you’d arrange to meet her in her dreams. Of course, you’re the Princess of Friendship, so that doesn’t necessarily narrow things down too much. However, you just told us that you’ve placed Starlight in a very important position. The type of position where it seems entirely plausible that you’d want to meet her in her dreams to discuss specifics. You also said that it was another mare in the dream, and who is Starlight’s best friend? Trixie.”

Rarity paused for dramatic effect.

“And then of course, there was the biggest clue of all.”

“Which was?” Twilight groaned.

“You just told me, darling.”

Twilight allowed her head to slump to the table as a series of whoops and giggles exploded around the table.

“Hoo-wee, well played Rarity.” Applejack sniggered.

“Sorry Twilight,” Fluttershy smiled, touching the Princess’ foreleg. “You have to admit, it is quite funny though.”

“Thanks Fluttershy,” Twilight frowned, raising her head from the table. “Alright, fine, you got me. Please don’t go blabbing this to anypony, I promised I wouldn’t tell.”

“Our lips are sealed, darling.” Rarity replied. “Right, girls?”

Everypony else around the table nodded, the remnants of hilarity still painted on their faces.

“So anyway, what do you girls think?” Twilight attempted to salvage the dignity. “Do you think it’s something more than friendship?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Rainbow said. “I always thought there was something going on between those two.”

“If only we had some sort of example to draw on,” Rarity mused, pointedly staring at Applejack and Rainbow Dash. “Two ponies who were close friends, whose friendship eventually blossomed into something more.”

Twilight caught her look, and also turned her attention to the two mares.

“That’s right!” She gasped. “You two just announced you were dating a few years back, we never actually got to hear the story of how that happened!”

“Yes, AJ and RD are notoriously bad at sharing their feelings.” Rarity commented.

“You guys never asked!” Rainbow protested.

“Ah, I’m pretty sure we did,” Pinkie said mockingly. “You both were just always all like ‘We’re just dating now. Doesn’t matter how it happened.’”

“Yeah, well...” Rainbow faltered.

“Tell!” Pinkie near screamed with delight. “Tell tell tell tell tell tell tell tell!”

“Um, I wouldn’t mind hearing the story...” Fluttershy somehow managed to make her voice heard through Pinkie’s bouncing squeaks.

Rainbow Dash sighed and shrugged, before turning to her marefriend. Applejack took the Pegasus’ hoof in her own and smiled.

“Ah guess there ain’t no harm in it.”

Author's Note

Sorry it took so long. Hope you like!

6. How AppleDash Became a Thing

The summer sun beat down on the town of Ponyville, its inhabitants taking the opportunity to spend the day outside and bask in the midday warmth. Sugarcube corner was doing a roaring trade in ice-cream sandwiches, the School of Friendship decided that today was the day for classes to be taken outside, and the parks were crammed with Ponies of all ages simply enjoying clement weather. The birds sang their heavenly chorus in the trees, the blue sky was bereft of clouds, and a lazy breeze rolled across Celestia’s own country.

At Sweet Apple Acres, Applejack had taken the day off. It was an unusual move, for her at least, but she figured that Big Mac and his wife could handle anything that might come up on the farm for one day at least. The farm and surrounding acres of orchards provided the solitude that was lacking in the nearby town, and save for the chirping of the birds in the trees, all was silent on the Apple family grounds. Applejack sighed in contentment and leaned back against the fence, her rear hoof resting on the lower slat. She adjusted her hat to maintain the shade across her eyes and continued her silent observation of the only other Pony within a mile of her. It had been several years since Princess Twilight Sparkle had left for Canterlot, and though Ponyville could never be described as sleepy, what with the School of Friendship still in full operation, it couldn’t be denied that less world-ending incidents seemed to occur there these days. It afforded Ponies like Applejack more leisure time, especially now that Sweet Apple Acres had Sugar Belle in permanent residence helping out with chores. On days such as this one, it meant that the apple farmer was able to attempt to settle the ongoing question of just who was best. If somepony would get on with it, that was.

“You plannin’ on takin’ that shot anytime soon?” She asked, amusement tugging at her voice.

Rainbow Dash made no reply, her tongue jutting out of the corner of her mouth and her face twisted in concentration. She bobbed the horseshoe she held in her hoof lightly up and down, testing its weight, her eyes fixed on the stake stuck in the ground several meters away. Numerous other shoes littered the ground around the pole, glinting in the sunshine. Applejack swatted at a fly that buzzed annoyingly around her head before sighing again, this time from irritation. Rainbow Dash had still yet to pitch her shoe.

“Ah ain’t got plans to be stood here all dang day!” Applejack grumbled.

Then it happened, finally. Rainbow Dash’s foreleg shot forward at frightening speed, and the shoe was sent hurtling towards the stake. The clattering metallic sound that rang out a split second later signaled that the Pegasus had scored a ringer, but Applejack squinted at the pole just to make sure. Sure enough, there lay Rainbow’s shoe at the foot of the stake. Rainbow pumped her hooves in the air and began her inevitable victory routine.

“Yes! YES! Ringer! Did you see that, AJ? You’re never catching me up! You’d need to pull a ringer out of the bag yourself just to tie this game!”

The apple farmer pushed herself off the fence and lazily walked to the throw line, apparently in no rush to continue with the match. She gave the Pegasus a slight sideways nod.

“Not bad, Rainbow,” she said, her words dripping with condescension. “Who knows, maybe one a’ these days you’ll become a real sports-pony.”

Rainbow Dash sat on her haunches and folded her forelegs huffily.

“Whaddaya mean?!” She griped. “I’m a Wonder Bolt! It doesn’t get more real than that!”

“Uh huh.” Applejack replied dismissively, picking up her horseshoe. “Well, that’s as maybe...”

She lined up her shot, and flung the shoe towards its target, taking much pride in the fact that it had taken her a fraction of the time it had taken Rainbow to aim. She was rewarded by the sound of another metallic clang, the unmistakable sound of yet another ringer. Applejack’s horseshoe fell to the base of the stake and entwined with Rainbow’s previous shot.

“Hoo-wee,” the orange mare commented, adjusting a hat that didn’t strictly require adjustment. Rainbow Dash could only look on in open mouthed horror.

“Tie game?!” The Pegasus yelled, extending two forelegs towards the metal pole. “Oh, come on!”

“Yup,” Applejack responded smugly. Considering the game was a draw, she was doing an excellent job of acting like she’d won. “Good game, Rainbow. Ah guess we’ll just have to wait until next time to settle this.”

“No!” Rainbow Dash shouted, leaping to her hooves. “No, no, no! There must be something else!”

A look of confusion flashed across Applejack’s features.

“Somethin’ else?” She questioned.

“Yeah!” The Pegasus confirmed, kicking at the dusty ground with her hoof. “Another game, contest, challenge...something!”

Applejack rolled her eyes.

“Forget it Rainbow, I gots chores to do.” She griped, casting her eyes across the rolling hills of Sweet Apple Acres towards the farmhouse. It was a jolly clash of red in the green grasses of the hill it rested upon, and it stood out magnificently against the brilliant blue of the sky. As Applejack watched, the weathervane that sat atop it shifted in the gentle breeze, creating a couple of bright flashes of light that lingered even when the mare closed her eyes. Applejack smiled, her heart swelling as she gazed upon her home. The house was a barn conversion that she herself had helped to build many, many years ago, and every lick of red paint that adorned it was done by some member or other of the Apple family. To look upon the house, her house, was to gaze back into the past, at generations of Apples who had chosen to make this unprepossessing corner of Equestria their home. Her thoughts were unceremoniously interrupted by the now ranting Rainbow Dash.

“Leg wrestling?” The Pegasus asked.

Applejack rolled her eyes, before snorting and returning her gaze to her friend.

“We’ve done that.” She replied. “‘Sides, ain’t no way you’re bringin’ these babies down.”

She flexed her foreleg for Dash to see, her muscles bulging under her coat to emphasize her point. Rainbow’s eyes lingered on the display for a fraction of a second before she rolled her eyes.

“Tug o’ war?”

“We’ve done that too,” Applejack reminded her friend. “You always cheat by flyin.’”

“I promise I won’t do that this time!” Rainbow begged.

“That’s whut you always say,” Applejack admonished. “‘An anyway, we ain’t got no rope, an’ ah ain’t trottin’ all tha way to the barn to git one.”

Rainbow frowned and went back to pacing up and down, visibly ransacking her brain for some sort of new game to play. Applejack looked on in amusement. She was cute, the way she refused to give up despite being so obviously outmatched – it was cute, it was cute, that was what she’d meant. As Applejack hid her tiny blush by once again looking across the Equestrian landscape, Rainbow piped up once more.

“Staring contest!” She yelled triumphantly.

“A whut now?”

“A staring contest!” Rainbow repeated, stomping her hoof on the ground in excitement. “We’ve never done that!”

Applejack mulled the thought around her mind, struggling to remember. Of all the silly games they’d ever played, had they really never played the simplest one of all? If they had, she couldn’t recall when.

“No...no, ah guess we haven’t.” She said finally.

The Pegasus punched a hoof into the air.

“Perfect!” She declared. “Rules are simple. We each stare into the other’s eyes, first one to blink loses.”

“Into each other’s eyes?” The orange mare repeated, with a raised eyebrow.

“Well yeah,” Dash said with an air of condescension. “Else how are we supposed to know the other’s blinked?”

Applejack sighed, before shrugging.

“What tha’ hay.” She said stepping towards her friend. “If’n it’ll finally settle this once and fer all, then fine.”

“Ok, ok,” Rainbow said excitedly, positioning herself in front of her friend. The two mares locked eyes, preparing themselves. Applejack blinked several times in rapid succession. “You ready?”

“Yup.”

“Annnnnd, go!”

Applejack stared intently into Rainbow Dash’s eyes, taking in their deep magenta. The Pegasus’ brow was furrowed, and her lips turned up in a near snarl of concentration. Poor creature. She was never going to win this fight. Not specifically this fight either, but in a general sense. How long had they both been at this, Applejack absently wondered. It must be years now. It seemed like whenever the farmer had even a little bit of time to spare, there was Rainbow, inventing more and more ways for them to pit themselves against each other, in an ongoing campaign to prove who was the better Pony. It was certainly strange, but stranger still was the fact that Applejack seemed to look forward to their time together, perhaps more, even, than any of their other mutual friends. Applejack was honest in all things, even her own feelings, so she knew she was overly competitive. The idea that she’d let Rainbow waltz away with the title of ‘Best Pony’ without a fight was one that she couldn’t accept, but now, having been at it for so many moons, she wondered if there wasn’t something else to it. She liked Rainbow Dash, sure, despite their constant bickering, but that only seemed to be scratching the surface of the matter. What was it about this Rainbow Pegasus that made her willingly give up more of her precious time than any of her other friends? Why was she now, seemingly for the first time, having difficulty articulating her feelings to herself? What was it about her? What-

Applejack blinked. The barely noticeable blackening of the world for the shortest of split seconds signaled, both to her and to Rainbow Dash, that the contest was over, and she had lost. A growl of frustration escaped her lips, and she threw her hat to the ground even as Rainbow’s obnoxious victory taunting began.

“YES!” Rainbow bellowed before shooting into the air and hovering ten feet up, her wings beating frenetically. “You blinked! I win! I’m the best Pony! I-”

“Best ‘a three.” Applejack demanded, retrieving her hat and dusting it off before returning to her head.

“What?” Rainbow replied, still from her airborne position.

“Ya heard me good and well, Rainbow,” Applejack snarled. “Best ‘a three. You ain’t won this yet.”

The glee dropped from the Pegasus’ face as she slowly descended. Once all four of her hooves were planted on terra-firma, she looked at her friend with a steely expression.

“Fine,” she said coldly, “if you like losing that much.”

Once again she took up position, and immediately noticed that a determined Applejack had closed the distance previously between them by a good few feet, to the point where they were now both in what could be considered each other’s personal space. Rainbow grinned a vulpine grin. Intimidation tactics weren’t going to help her friend win. She wet her lips and blinked a few final times.

“Ready?” She once again asked. Applejack closed her eyes for two whole seconds before she replied.

“Yup.”

“Go.”

Poor Applejack. She didn’t know about Rainbow’s secret tactic. By rapidly shifting the point of focus of her eyes, she could ensure that they moved around in her sockets just enough to keep the whole eyeball moistened to hold back the need to blink. What a sucker the farmer was, and how sweet would it be when finally, she was forced to admit that she, Rainbow Dash, was the best at any game or contest anypony could come up with. Her eyes skipped across Applejack’s freckles and lingered on her piercing green eyes. The farmer’s expression was neutral, her eyes wide, looking directly into the Pegasus’ own. What would they do once that she was crowned winner and best at everything for life? There’d be no reason for them to continue hanging out as much as they did, and that created a weird feeling in Rainbow’s stomach. Focus Dash! Eyes on the prize. Even as she thought this, she found that she couldn’t tear her gaze from the green of AJ’s irises. Green like an apple. Rainbow scowled in frustration. Spending time with Applejack, it was...it was aight, to say the least. Even when they were apart she increasingly found her mind drifting to the orange mare, absently cooking up more and more ingenious ways for them to compete. Why was that? Was it because the smokin’ hot farmer never gave up? Wait a trotting second-

Rainbow Dash blinked. She clasped her hooves to her face, as much to hide her minute blush as much as anything else. She prepared herself for Applejack’s teasing, but it never came. When she looked back up, the mare was still doggedly eyeballing her.

“The decider,” the farmer said simply, her voice low and unamused.

“The decider.” Rainbow confirmed grimly, once again taking up position. This time, it was she who edged closer to her friend, so the mares were virtually nose to nose.

“Ready?” Rainbow growled.

“Go.” Applejack replied.

Their final bout began, both mares grimacing at each other.

Looking back, it was impossible to say who made the first move. Later, much later, each of them would naturally blame the other for what happened. All they knew in that moment was that one second they were looking into each other’s eyes attempting to settle a bet, the next their lips were locked together in an intense kiss. It was like an explosion of passion, a force that neither of them could resist. Rainbow let out a muffled moan as their tongues connected and they began to slowly explore each other. Their game was long forgotten; both of their eyes were closed by this point. Applejack raised her hoof and ran it through Rainbow’s spiky mane, the coarse hair brushing against her pastern. The Pegasus too raised her hoof and clasped Applejack’s in her own before deepening their kiss, eliciting a light sigh of pleasure from the Earth Pony. Their lips continued the embrace for several more seconds before they parted, their foreheads pressing together. They stared at each other for three long seconds, breathing heavily, before either mare realized what had just happened.

“Aghh!” Rainbow Dash commented, leaping away from the apple farmer as though she were on fire.

“Aghhh!” Applejack countered.

“Aggghhhh!”

“Aggggghhhhh!”

After their brief but admittedly clamorous exchange, a beetroot red Rainbow jetted off the ground and disappeared into the blue infinity of the sky. An equally crimson faced Applejack tilted her head back and watched her go. Within seconds the Pegasus was a speck in the sky. Applejack rocked back and forth on her hooves.

“Hrm...guess I’ll just, uh...hm.” She said to nopony in particular, before bolting in the direction of her home.

Rainbow Dash rocketed through the clear sky. Not yet, don’t think about it yet. Gah, why were there no clouds about today?! Where was a nice fluffy cumulus when you needed one? For once, she cursed the efficiency of the Pegasus weather team.

She was halfway to Cloudsdale before she found a suitable candidate, hanging alone, somewhere over the fields beyond the School of Friendship. She zipped towards it without bothering to slow down, and buried herself in the soft, cool vapor. She lay inside for a few moments, waiting for her breathing to return to normal. It didn’t, even though she hadn’t pushed herself that hard to get here. It was still coming through in deep, ragged rasps.

What in the actual holy hay had that been? Why had AJ ki – why had she done that? Rainbow’s face burnt at the memory. Surely the farmer wasn’t that desperate to win? It was a darn dirty trick if it was, and that was from a Pony who knew her way around a dirty trick or two.

‘Of course she tastes like apples...’

Rainbow silenced her mind as a swarm of butterflies invaded her stomach, her cheek heat showing zero signs of abating. Quite apart from Applejack, why had she run away like a frightened filly? Why wouldn’t her rebellious body just calm down?! She began to take deep breaths, silently counting to ten. When she was done she didn’t feel a whole lot better, but at least the pounding in her chest and the thunderous sound of blood rushing through her ears had lessened somewhat. The chilly cloud was helping too, offering some relief to her flushed body. Okay, it was okay. She was hidden in her cloud, nopony could see her. Time to sort this out.

Did...did she like that? The thought sent the butterflies into a frenzy, and her face began to glow anew. Hmm. Well, that wasn’t a good sign.

Okay, okay, maybe she liked it a little. Not a huge amount though, obviously. Like, maybe she twenty percent liked it. Being generous. But that didn’t make it okay that Applejack had just done it, without so much as a warning. Rainbow thought that she was supposed to be the one who played rotten pranks on her friends.

Unless. Unless it hadn’t been a prank, and AJ had actually...wanted to do that. The Pegasus scooped wads of cloud onto her head. She scrutinized her memory closely, desperately searching for any example of the farmer playing any kind of trick, prank or jape. She came up empty. Stupid element of honesty.

Rainbow took a gulp of air as she fretfully pondered what to do next. For some reason, the notion of the element of honesty lingered in her mind. Okay, so she should be honest, with herself at least, here in the solitary safety of the cloud.

‘Ohmigosh, ohmigosh, ohmigosh...it was nice.’

Princess Celestia on a bike. Applejack was, like, super-cool, not that the Pegasus would ever dream of telling her that. It was pretty much the main reason why she always wanted to compete with her. Like, if she could beat her in games or whatever, then that would prove that she was the cooler Pony. Which she was. Obviously.

‘Game recognizes game,’ she thought absently.

So then, now what? With a fresh stomach lurch she realized that she couldn’t stay in this cloud forever. Should she just go home and act like the whole thing never happened? Mentally she imagined Twilight Sparkle’s stern face.

‘Friends talk about their feelings, Rainbow.’

‘Shut up, Twilight. You’re not even here.’

Dismissing the imaginary Alicorn, the Pegasus was left with the feeling that, not here though she may be, she still perhaps had a point. Besides, if she didn’t speak to AJ and find out just what the hay was going on, then there’d be no shot at any more...niceness.

Not that that was what she wanted. Not definitely. Maybe.

She began to voluntarily pant in a futile attempt to calm her nerves as she began to dig through the bottom of the cloud. Once she reached the bottom, she created a small hole, slid through it, and allowed herself to free-fall for a good few moments before she spread her wings and shot off back in the direction of Ponyville.

By the time that Applejack had galloped back to the farmstead she was a sweaty, panting mess. Her stomach was doing flip-flops, and it genuinely felt like she might need to throw up. As she neared her front door she silently prayed that there wouldn’t be anypony else about. She tentatively pushed her front door open, and those prayers were dashed. Granny Smith stood with her back to the mare at the kitchen counter, beating a pie mixture in a large bowl.

“Applejack?” She said in her usual wizened drawl. “You’re back from your little contest nonsense with Rainbow Dash so soon?”

“Yeah...” her granddaughter replied distractedly. “I, um...yeah.”

Granny turned around, giving Applejack her full attention. Her brow furrowed and eyes narrowed.

“Young ‘un, are you feelin’ alright?” She asked, plodding to the mare and placing a hoof on her forehead. “You done look like you’ve seen the ghost of Great Grandpappy Apple Turnover.”

“Ah...ah...y’know whut Granny, I do feel mighty nauseous.” Applejack stammered, glad to be handed an excuse. It wasn’t as though it was untrue.

“I gots just tha’ thing!” Granny beamed, turning from the mare and reaching into one of the upper cupboards. After rummaging around for a few seconds, she produced a small green bottle before grabbing a spoon from the drying rack by the sink.

“This here cod liver oil’ll have ya fitter’n a worm in a zap-apple in no time.” She cackled, pouring some of the amber fluid into the spoon.

“Now Granny, there ain’t no need to-”

Applejack didn’t get to finish her sentence before the foul fishy liquid was thrust into her mouth. She tried to swallow it down before the taste invaded her senses, but it was no use. Her tongue registered the flavor and the smell crept into her nostrils, leaving her a coughing, spluttering mess. Well, if she didn’t feel like puking before, she sure did now.

“Ah, quit yer belly achin’, it ain’t that bad.” Granny grumbled, returning the bottle to the cupboard. “When I wuz your age, I had this every night before bed!”

Applejack found her mouth filling up with saliva and she dipped her head down between her forelegs taking long deliberate breaths.

“Thank ya, Granny,” she managed to choke out, with little enthusiasm. “Think I’ll maybe go take a lie down for a few minutes.”

“Okay sugar-plum,” Granny replied, turning her attention back to her pie mixture. “If’n ya need anythin’ jus’ give me a holler.”

Applejack trotted out of the room and up the stairs as quickly as she dared, not wanting to give the impression that she was desperate to get away. Mercifully, she didn’t run into either her brother or sister on her short journey, though that wasn’t too much of a surprise. Big Mac was most likely off somewhere making kissy faces at Sugar Belle, and Apple Bloom was probably busy with the Crusaders, doing Celestia knew what. She reached the door to her room and slipped inside, slamming the door slightly behind her. She leaned back against it, her forelegs splayed, as though she were trying to stop somepony from barging in. Slowly, she slid down until she was sitting on the bare floorboards.

Spartan didn’t even begin to describe Applejack’s interior decorating. There was a sturdy applewood bed with a patchwork blanket next to a bedside table with a lamp, a tiny bookcase and little else. The only other decorations were several lassos hanging at strategic points around the room, and a landscape picture of Sweet Apple Acres hanging above the bed. The mare looked around dumbly, taking precious little comfort in the familiar surroundings, before crawling to her bed and scrabbling under the covers. She frisbeed her hat across the room and pulled the blanket over her head, instantly regressing to the days when she was a foal hiding from monsters. In the relative darkness of the covers, there was one thought that assaulted her mind.

What in the whole history of apple loving hay had just happened? The memory alone was enough to cause eighty percent of the blood in her body to decide that her face was the hippest place to be right now. She’d kissed Rainbow Dash. Had she? Or had Rainbow kissed her? Didn’t matter. The end result was the same. How was their friendship supposed to survive this? No doubt Twilight’d know. Too bad she wasn’t in Ponyville anymore.

Her boggled mind began to play scenarios where Rainbow came to see her.

‘Hey Applejack. What happened the other day was kinda weird. I think we maybe shouldn’t hang out together for a little while.’

An involuntary gasp forced its way into her lungs. She didn’t want that. Not at all. She’d come to see the multi-coloured Pegasus as her best friend among some really close friends, and the thought that they wouldn’t be able to spend time together anymore was frankly horrifying. So what if they bickered and competed all the time, so what if she sometimes brought out the obstinate stubborn nature in her, when all was said and done, Rainbow Dash was the one Pony that she felt like she could tell anything. Even if she didn’t always, or even often, agree with her, Applejack knew that Rainbow would always stick with her, no matter what.

Guess that’s the bearer of the Element of Loyalty for you.

She liked Rainbow Dash. A lot. Gah, this was so confusing. Okay, don’t panic. Focus on what happened. The kiss. Did she like that?

Yes.

Gosh darn it. She grabbed a convenient pillow and held it over her burning face. She lightly pounded on it with a hoof as she emitted a low groan.

Okay, that was something, though. A tangible certainty that she could grasp. She needed to talk to Rainbow. She’d just have to be completely open with the Pegasus, say that yeah, they kissed, so what. If she wasn’t into it then fine, but there was no way in Tartarus that it was gonna get in the way of their friendship, they were far too close for that garbage. Heck, she’d take it straight to Twilight if she had to. If there was one Pony who could be relied upon to fix a friendship mess, it was-

A light rapping on the door brought her mental ranting to a screeching halt.

“Applejack?” Granny Smith called through the door. “Are ya still awake in there?”

Applejack tore the pillow and blanket from her face.

“Yeah, Granny.” She called back. “Y’all okay?”

“I’m jus’ fine, sugar,” Granny replied through the still closed door. “But yer pal Rainbow Dash is here.”

At this Applejack fought the blanket off her body and leapt out of the bed.

“Rainbow’s here?” She called, a twinge of panic seeping into her voice.

“Thas what ah said,” Granny confirmed. “She done looks like she’s got what you got, paler’n a winter moon.”

Applejack scrambled to retrieve her discarded hat, her stomping hooves on the hardwood floor echoing throughout the room.

“I told her to come on in, but that silly filly said she’d wait for you on the porch.” Granny continued absently.

Applejack flung the bedroom door open and sprinted past her grandmother.

“Sorry Granny,” she yelled at the stunned elder. “I gotta go talk to her!”

Granny Smith rolled her eyes at the dust cloud that had an instant earlier been her kin.

“Young’uns.” She muttered.

Rainbow stood nervously on the porch, one hoof rubbing the back of her head. After shifting her weight from hoof to hoof for a few moments, she turned and trotted down the steps to the porch with a light trip-trap sound. Best to not look too eager. She waited on the dusty ground and resumed her weight shifting activity. The seconds that ticked by did so unhurriedly, as though they were suddenly in no rush to pass.

‘She’s not coming,’ Rainbow thought. ‘She’s probably too weirded out. She-’

Her thoughts were cut short by the front door of the farmstead being ripped open and a breathless Applejack darn near throwing herself onto the porch. She stood, panting at the top of the three wooden stairs, a hearty blush playing across her freckled cheeks. At the sight of her, Rainbow’s own cheeks flushed red. She wished she could look away from her, but she couldn’t; it was like she was seeing the mare for the first time. The way she stood, examining the floorboards of the porch, one of her forelegs nervously cocked behind the other...it was cute. She was cute.

Rainbow’s mouth hung open, and she silently thanked Celestia that the apple farmer couldn’t currently meet her gaze. The Pegasus snapped her mouth shut with a barely audible click, but in the warm stillness of the late afternoon sun, it was enough to get Applejack’s attention. Her head snapped in Rainbow’s direction, and for the first time since the Earth Pony barged onto the porch their eyes met. For the longest time, all they could do was stare at each other in an odd parody of the game they’d earlier played. A light breeze rolled between them, ruffling the spikes of Rainbow mane. The tiny movement was enough to spur the Pegasus into action.

“H-hey, Applejack,” she stumbled. “I, uh, thought maybe we should talk about earlier.”

Applejack continued her silence for several more seconds before she replied.

“Yeah, uh, ah reckon we should.”

She took a nervous glance behind her. From where she stood, through the kitchen window Rainbow could see Granny Smith pottering about inside.

“Let’s take a walk,” Applejack continued, slowly and deliberately descending the porch. Rainbow nodded approvingly, and the two began to saunter back in the direction of their earlier competition. For a few minutes, neither mare dared speak, nor look at each other. There was a question, several really, hanging at the forefront of both of their minds, but each of them was having trouble putting it into words. Finally, Applejack made the first move.

“So, uh...” She coughed, when she was sure that they were about twice the distance out of earshot of her home. “You, uh, you wanna tell me what that was all about back there?”

“I was gonna ask you the same question!” Rainbow replied, looking up from her close examination of the grass they were walking over. “Why’d you kiss me?”

“Me kiss you?” Applejack retorted with narrowed eyes. “It was you who kissed me!”

“Nuh-uh,” Rainbow whined, regressing instantly to a foal. “I was concentrating on the game, and then suddenly you were all over me!”

“Oh-ho-hooo! Ah git it. You knew you were about to lose, so you thought you’d try and distract me.”

Rainbow Dash kicked at a clump of grass in irritation.

“You must be joking, AJ. I was about to hammer you into the dust. If anypony was trying to distract anypony it was you! That’s why you were running your hoof through my mane after you did it!”

“Well, ah seem to remember somepony starting to hold hooves with me like a second later! An it wasn’t like you wuz resistin’ much, movin’ yer tongue all around mah mouth, makin’ yer cute little moans-”

“Now listen Applejack-” Rainbow growled dangerously, poking her nose into the other mare’s nose. Both Ponies froze, glancing down. At some point during their walk and subsequent argument, they’d gotten intimately close. Each of them quickly took a step away from the other, maintaining their personal space.

They continued trotting, silence once again descending upon them. For a few minutes the only sounds that could be heard were the birds in the trees and the breeze rolling through the grass. Applejack coughed. Rainbow looked in her direction but said nothing. Still they walked. The quiet began to become excruciating.

“Aw, Tartarus!” Applejack exclaimed at last, snapping. “It don’t matter how it happened, all's that matters is it did happen!”

Rainbow nodded. She agreed, but it didn’t exactly give her any clues on where to go next.

“Yeah, okay, so...?” She ventured.

“So?”

“So now what?” Rainbow spelled it out.

Applejack sighed. They were at the top of one of Sweet Apple Acres rolling hills, and on the next hill over she could see the shoe-pitching stake, each of their last throws still at the base of it, entwined and glinting in the sun. She stopped at the sight. She turned to the Pegasus and looked her right in the eye, removing her hat from her head and holding it to her chest.

“Rainbow, you’re my best friend,” she said solemnly. “An ah don’t want somethin’ silly like this t’come between us. I know ah can be mighty ornery at times, but ah really like the time we spend together, an ah don’t wanna lose that.”

Rainbow’s mouth hung open, stunned by a bolt of pure honesty. Applejack’s blush had returned in full force, but the Earth Pony made no attempt to hide it or look away. Even though she could feel her own cheeks burning, Rainbow forced herself to look into her friend’s amazing green eyes. It was the least that she could do.

“You’re my best friend too, AJ. And there’s no way I’m ditching you because of this. You...you’re well, y’know...”

“Yeah?” Applejack prompted with a whisper.

“Awesome,” Rainbow finished. “And I wouldn’t let anything get in the way of hanging out with an awesome Pony like you.”

Applejack breathed a sigh of relief, and a smile danced across her face. Seeing that grin made Rainbow’s heart pound in her chest, like she’d just chugged twelve coffees.

“Hoo-wee,” the farmer responded, shaking her head and returning her hat to it. “Ain’t we a pair?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow chuckled. “I guess we are.”

Applejack moseyed over to the fence that ran the length of both hills separating the apple trees from the fields and slumped down on her haunches, her back to the wooden beams. She sighed all of the pent-up tension out of her body.

“Ah wuz worried you wouldn’t wanna hang out no more.”

“Are you kidding?” Rainbow replied, walking over to her and plonking herself down beside her. “I was afraid you wouldn’t!”

Applejack laughed.

“Such a silly thing...” She breathed.

“That’s why I knew I had to come back and find you.” Rainbow said, plucking a daisy from the ground. “Sorry, by the way.”

Applejack looked at the Pegasus. She was staring at her hooves, absently fiddling with her flower.

“Sorry?” She said in confusion. “Fer what?”

“Running away like that.” Rainbow replied quietly. “I just, like, panicked or whatever.”

“S’alright,” the farmer chuckled. “Ah ran away too. Jus’ wasn’t as quick as you.”

“Nopony’s as quick as me.” The Pegasus boasted with a wry smile.

Applejack snorted another laugh through her nose.

“No. Ah reckon not.”

There was a small pause while both of the mares quietly examined the grass in front of them.

“Ah’d like t’think ah’d’ve gone lookin’ fer you too,” Applejack mused. “Jus’, y’know-” she gestured to her own back - “Can’t fly.”

Now it was Rainbow’s turn to laugh through her nose.

“You’d’ve never found me. I spent ten minutes hiding in a cloud.”

Applejack threw her head back and let a loud guffaw echo around the apple trees.

“It’s not that funny.” Rainbow grumbled.

“It kinda is.”

“Yeah? Well, where did you hide?” Rainbow chided, looking at her friend. “I know you weren’t just going about like nothing happened!”

Applejack looked away.

“Bed.” She muttered quietly.

“Ha!” Rainbow shrieked.

Another pause. They returned their attention to anywhere but each other.

“You said I was cute.” The Pegasus broke the silence. “I’m not cute.”

“What?”

“You said I was making ‘cute little moans’ or something. When we...y’know...”

“Oh!” Applejack cried with a start, her face reddening yet again. “Yeah, ah...ah guess ah did say that...”

Rainbow hid her own scarlet face by pretending to scan the skyline in what she hoped looked like a vigilant manner.

“Those weren’t ‘cute little moans’.” Rainbow continued, still avoiding her friends eyes. “Those were...I dunno, grunts of passion or whatever.”

“‘Grunts of passion?’” Applejack stifled another laugh.

“I dunno!” Rainbow cried, turning her angry tomato cheeks to the mare. “The point is, they weren’t cute. I’m not cute. Like, ever.”

“Whatever you say, Rainbow.”

A bee buzzed merrily between them for a few moments before settling on one of the daisies that were growing underhoof. It scrambled about for a few moments while both mares scrutinized it intently. Then, as if it somehow knew it was interrupting something, it took to the air once more, buzzing away on its erratic flight path. Applejack sighed. Despite what they’d said only minutes earlier, there was definitely some tension between the two of them. She hoped against hope that this was something that would fade over time, maybe even get to the point where they could joke about it, but for now she supposed that this was just something that the both of them would just have to weather. She glanced at her blue friend. She could tolerate it for her Rainbow Dash time. She smiled a wide smile.

Suddenly the Pegasus looked at her, and she almost sprained her neck pretending to inspect the paintjob on the fence.

“So, ummm...” Rainbow floundered, scratching at her head with her hoof. “I was wondering...”

“Yeah?”

“N-never mind.” Rainbow Dash dismissed, breaking her eye contact. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Ah, come on Rainbow,” Applejack smiled, giving her friend a light dig on the shoulder. “After what we just been through, you’re gonna clam up now?”

“Ok, ok,” Rainbow chuckled, rubbing her leg. “It’s just... did you like it?”

The breath caught in Applejack’s throat.

“Did...ah...like what?” The orange mare stalled for time.

“You know what I mean.”

Applejack gave the tiniest of nods. She took a moment to consider her answer. She couldn’t lie to her friend, but on the other hand, a brutally honest answer might not be the best approach either. The moment rapidly became several.

“Maybe.” She answered. “Why, did you?”

“Maybe.” Rainbow Dash parroted. She still wasn’t looking at Applejack, but she lowered her hoof to her side, right on top of the farmer’s. Applejack looked down at the blue hoof on top of her own with an open-mouthed stare, but she made no effort to move it.

“Did...” Applejack whispered, finding that she had to force the reluctant words out. “Did you wanna do it again?”

Still Rainbow wasn’t looking at her, and she continued not to do so for several more long seconds before she turned and flashed her wide purple eyes at her friend.

“Maybe.”

They stared into each other’s eyes. Slowly, with the speed one might apply to sneaking past a sleeping bugbear, they moved their faces towards each other. Each mare felt a jolt of electricity as their lips touched, and as they did so both of their eyes rolled closed. Their hooves still touching, Applejack lifted her limb and allowed her hoof to slowly caress up Rainbow’s leg. When she reached her shoulder she scootched her whole body towards the Pegasus so their hips were pressed together, and she slipped her leg through the gap in the fence, around Rainbow Dash. The Wonderbolt again let out one of her totally not cute whines as she parted her lips and her tongue licked at Applejack’s mouth, begging to be allowed inside. The orange mare complied, with a moan of her own. Her hoof now free, Rainbow raised it and began to stroke at the fur on Applejack’s chest, gently swishing her hoof through the ochre hairs.

Neither could have told you how long they stayed that way for. It could have been six seconds or six years. All conscious thought seemed to stop, they were simply receptors to the incredible pleasure that was coursing through their bodies as they sat, gently and unhurriedly exploring each other’s mouths. It was only when her tongue felt tingly and her lips became numb that Rainbow broke off the kiss, and even then she did so only by planting a series of pecks on Applejack’s muzzle, across her freckled cheeks and down her neck. Here she stopped, but only because this looked like the softest and most inviting place she’s ever seen, and she found that she simply had to nuzzle her face there, just a little. As she did so, she drifted her hoof down from AJ’s chest and around her side, pulling her close in a tight hug. Applejack panted lustily as she took the opportunity to run the hoof that she was hugging Rainbow with through the mare’s incredible multicolored mane.

“Well now,” the farmer breathed. “This is quite – ah – quite the pickle.”

“Wt id?” Rainbow replied, from somewhere inside the fur on AJ’s neck.

“I’m not so sure we can just go back to the way things were before now, Rainbow.” She sighed happily.

The Pegasus looked up at her from her nuzzle spot, her bright eyes glazed with worry. Applejack stretched her neck back as far as it would go just so she could see her friend’s face and smile down at her. The Pegasus locked her eyes with her own, her expression apprehensive, her face still flushed.

“Cuz ah don’t think ah kin not do this with you again.”

“Well, I guess I’d be okay with that,” Rainbow replied, after a femtosecond’s worth of thought. “If you really want to that is.” She added, with a mock eyeroll.

“Ah do.” Applejack beamed.

“Oh, uh, okay.” The Pegasus practically turned purple. “I do too.”

Applejack squeezed her marefriend tight, and Rainbow Dash continued to bravely explore the unknown region of the fur on AJ’s neck. Applejack planted several kisses on top of her head, whilst gently stroking her shoulder with her hoof.

They stayed there for several hours, renewing their kissing at regular intervals and shifting their hugs to fully appreciate each other’s bodies. By the time the red stained sky of sunset gave way to the first pale blue of the night sky and the brightest of the shining stars became visible, Applejack was lying on her back on the grass, Rainbow Dash on her side beside her, the latter’s foreleg under the former’s head, both of their hind legs intertwined.

“So, are we, like, going out now?” Rainbow asked, rubbing her muzzle into her lover’s cheek.

“Ah reckon so.”

“Awesome. Do we have to tell everypony though?”

“I weren’t plannin’ on keepin’ it a secret.” Applejack shot her a concerned glance.

“No, I know,” Rainbow hastily clarified. “But do we have to, like, tell them how it happened?”

Applejack grinned at her with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s just there were parts of today when I was less bad-flanked than I normally am, that’s all.” The Pegasus pouted.

The Earth Pony thought for a moment, processing her answer.

“Nah,” she said finally. “All that matters is that we’re a thing now. Don’t matter how it happened.”

“Doesn’t matter how.” Rainbow sighed, stretching to plant a kiss on Applejack’s lips.

The last of the day’s sun ebbed, and more and more stars began to twinkle in the velvet sky. Over on a nearby hill, two linked horseshoes twinkled back.

Author's Note

Hope you, like, like it or whatever.

7. Let's do a Plan!

“Fascinating,” Twilight murmured, leaning forward in her chair. Beside her a magically manipulated quill darted across parchment, pausing only occasionally to dip itself into a nearby inkwell. “So it was an explosive release of the pent-up sexual tension you’d both built up through your contests...”

“A sexplosion!” Pinkie clarified, giddily.

“Well, ah guess that’s one way ‘a puttin’-” Applejack started, before cutting herself off. “Twilight, are you takin’ notes?”

“Yes...?” Twilight replied simply, giving her friend a vacant stare. “Why wouldn’t I be? If I’m going to use your experiences to help others, I need to know I’m getting the details right.”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes.

“I’m not sure I want a record of this.” She huffed. “We’re a couple, not a case-study.”

“I’ll keep your names out of it.” Twilight dismissed with a wave of her hoof.

Before Rainbow had a chance to protest further, Rarity cut in.

“Well, I for one think it’s terribly romantic,” she sighed wistfully. “The setting, the heated competition giving way to heated emotions, your complimentary coats...”

AJ and Rainbow glanced at each other and their still held hooves uncertainly at this.

“One of you an emotionally stunted, surly athlete, the other...” Rarity continued before trailing off. “Well, I suppose you’re both one and the same in that regard, aren’t you darlings?”

“Hey!” AppleDash cried in unison. Rarity smirked at her jibe.

“I think it’s very sweet.” Fluttershy offered, eliciting a scowl from Rainbow.

“See?” She turned to AJ and gestured to the yellow Pegasus with her free hoof. “Ponies think we’re sweet!”

She turned her attention to Fluttershy.

“We’re not sweet.” She said sternly. “If anything, we’re awesome. Never sweet.”

“Oh, um, okay.” Fluttershy replied, abashed.

“An’ Appledash? That’s what y’all call us?” Applejack said suddenly.

“Yeah!” Rainbow seconded. “Why not RainbowJack?”

“Uh-uh.” Pinkie cut in. “Sorry, that one’s taken by Rainbowberry and Springjack.”

Now it was Twilight’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Getting back to the point;” She announced, in an attempt to cut through the idle chatter, “Should I warn Starlight about this potential outcome?”

She was met with five blank stares.

“No.” Came the unanimous answer.

“Sugarcube, ain’t no good’s gonna come from meddlin’,” Applejack stated patiently. “If’n it’s meant to be with Starlight an’ Trixie, then they’ll figure it out.”

“But I’m the Princess of Friendship!” Twilight whined. “This is clearly a friendship problem; I’m supposed to help Ponies with their friendship problems!”

“This is different, Twi,” Applejack sighed. “Ya can’t just go interferin’ with matters of the heart.”

Twilight grumbled incoherently as the quill returned to the inkwell.

The rest of the friend’s visit passed pleasantly enough, once Twilight had finally conceded that no, she probably shouldn’t be poking her nose into Starlight’s romantic affairs. To Twilight’s relief, Applejack’s and Rainbow Dash’s recounting of the tryst that started their relationship had completely evaporated both of the marefriend’s anger at the prospect of their sisters working on the redemption project. That being said, Twilight still planned to honor the farmer’s wishes and remove Apple Bloom from the job.

A few hours later, when the interesting news and catch-up anecdotes had run dry and when Pinkie Pie had pretty much eaten her own body weight in pastries, it was time for the friends to say goodbye, as Pinkie, Rainbow and AJ had a train to catch. Fluttershy offered to walk with them, as as she pointed out, her significant other could pick her up from literally anywhere. That left Twilight and Rarity alone at the table once more.

“Any ideas on where you’ll have your first date then?” Twilight asked abruptly, once Crisp Suit had escorted the other mares to the door.

Rarity considered the question for a moment, one hoof propping up her chin as she leant over the table, the other tracing the rim of her glass.

“Well, I fear the answer to that rests on Spiky’s broad shoulders.” She said with a light reddening of her face. “I must confess, I’m looking forward to finding out though.”

Twilight smiled, happy for both her friend and her brother.

“Well, I can take you back to Yakyakistan whenever you like. Would you like to say goodbye to him before you leave?”

Rarity hesitated for a moment before she answered.

“No,” she said finally, not trusting herself to keep her hooves off him if she did. “I rather get the feeling I’ll be seeing him soon enough. Not to mention, it’s always best to leave them wanting more.”

Twilight giggled softly. Rarity stood from her seat and donned her chapeau.

“Right then. I suppose I should be going. Those Yak ensembles aren’t going to craft themselves.”

Twilight nodded, rising from her own chair. The pair met beside the table, and one flash of pink magic later, both vanished. A stillness hung in the room for several minutes before there was another flash, and Twilight re-appeared, this time alone. She cast her eyes over the table, at the demolished remains of delicious treats and dirty plates, and she felt a pang of longing, as she often did at the conclusion of one of her meetings with her friends. Sometimes she just wished she was back in Ponyville. She shook her head slightly to clear her thoughts. There were more important things right now. For starters, there was a little Dragon she had to talk to.

A few minutes later she found him, predictably in his room, thankfully now sans music. His door was open, but she dutifully rapped on the wood anyway. Spike looked up from his chair. He was sat at his desk, a towel draped around his neck, and he set the pen he’d been using down.

“Come in,” he said with a smile.

Twilight returned the pleasantry as she stepped into the room.

“Your equipment requisition form, as requested,” he said simply, leaning back in his chair and handing Twilight a sheet of parchment.

“Thank you,” Twilight replied, taking it in her magic and holding it up to her eyes. Spike looked on with pursed lips. Twilight read carefully. It was the usual stuff, parchment, quills, ink, gems, petty bits and... hmm, that was a new one...

“What’s this?” She asked in a neutral tone, flipping the page around for the Dragon to see.

“What’s what?” Spike replied innocently.

“This.” Twilight reiterated, poking at the page with her hoof. “An EEA medallion?”

“Oh, that.” Spike said, doing a credible impression of somedragon who’d forgotten he’d added that particular item to the list. “I just thought it’d, y’know, come in handy if I have to get back here quick. For emergencies or whatever.”

“That’s a high-end magical artifact, Spike.” Twilight said shrewdly, narrowing her eyes at her brother.

Spike met her gaze with a serious expression.

“Yes, but if anything gets out of hoof on the project it’ll mean that I’ll be able to portal to you instantly, if we need an immediate Alicorn intervention. I’d say it was a necessary safety precaution.”

Twilight glanced at the page before a wry smile strolled across her face and she looked back to the dragon.

“Sure would make it easy to nip over to Yakyakistan whenever you liked too, huh?”

Spike’s nonchalant face fell, replaced by one that signaled that he knew he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. A single bead of sweat rolled down the side of his skull.

“Have...have you spoken to Rarity?” He asked timidly.

“I have,” Twilight grinned. “You dirty little stop-out tomcat Dragon.”

Spike’s eyes flitted shut as he frowned and shook his head at his sister’s teasing.

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed before a grin of his own took over his face. “I didn’t plan on that happening.”

He paused before adding:

“I’m pretty happy it did though.”

Twilight laughed.

“Well Spike, allow me to be first to say: WoooooooOOOOOOOoooooo!” The Alicorn continued her relentless ribbing. “What’s next? Are you gonna scratch her name inside a heart on your pencil box?”

Spike snorted in annoyance, but his smile stubbornly refused to budge.

“I take it then, that you’re not angry about it?”

“No!” Twilight cried, snapped from her merriment. “Why does everycreature think I’ll be mad about this?”

“We never did establish what the rules were on me dating your friends.” Spike folded his arms and placed his feet on the table. Twilight stared at him for a moment.

“Well, and no offence now Spike, but it honestly never even occurred to me that those might be rules we’d need to establish.”

The Dragon cocked his head in begrudging agreement.

“But no, I’m not angry.” The Princess continued. “You’re a big boy now, you can date whoever you please. Just don’t go breaking her heart, or I’ll have you cleaning the palace latrines indefinitely.”

Spike allowed his head to fall back over the backrest of his chair and then threw a light groan at the ceiling. He supposed he should have expected this much mockery from his big sister. He hauled his face back up to look at her.

“So can I have the medallion then?”

Twilight sighed, throwing him a sideways glance.

“Well, EEA medallions are, as you’d expect, only carried by members of the EEA, and only by senior members at that.”

The Dragon looked at the floor, crestfallen.

“However, I’m sure I can find you something of equivalent functionality in the Royal vault.” She smiled.

Spike’s head snapped up to her, his eyes wide.

“Really?!” He cried, leaping up from his chair and embracing his sister in a bone crushing hug. “Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!”

“Sss fine Spike!” Twilight struggled to say. The Dragon released her. “Just for Celestia’s sake be careful with it. Those things aren’t cheap, you know?”

“Seriously, thank you.” Spike repeated.

“You’re welcome. I’ll have it added along with the rest of your things and I’ll give you a quick training lesson on how to use it properly.”

“Okay.” Spike nodded whilst beaming.

“And you have to promise, no sneaking off to get all lovey-dovey with Rarity when you’re supposed to be working. You can use it in your free time only.”

“Absolutely.”

Twilight stopped, suddenly thinking of something.

“Speaking of Rarity, what’s this I’ve been hearing about Diamond Dog muggers?”

“Oh, that,” Spike muttered, suddenly remembering for himself. “It was three low level thugs by the look of it. They soon lost interest when they realized I can breathe fire. Storm in a teacup really.”

“Well, I’ll still need to make a report to the six Diamond Queens.” Twilight said. “Your first assignment when you arrive in Ponyville can be to provide me with a description of the incident and of the assailants.”

“Will do.”

“Right then. Let’s get you kitted out.”

A short while later, the Alicorn and Dragon siblings stood in the library of Canterlot Castle. They were at a table on the ground floor, one of many rectangular polished wood desks, each equipped with a small reading light. To the left and right of them were hundreds of bookcases packed with dusty tomes, and behind them a grand staircase led to the upper floor, where yet more books lay in wait. Twilight produced a small golden amulet on a chain from her saddlebag and dangled it in front of Spike’s face.

“Here you go!” She beamed. “I managed to dig this out of the vaults underneath the castle. Try it on.”

Spike reached up and held the artifact in his palm. As the cool metal rested on the scales of his hand he noticed that there was an engraving of a Pegasus and a Unicorn on the front of the amulet. They were in profile, looking into each other’s eyes, each of their hooves resting on the other’s shoulder. A smile played about both of their faces. Spike frowned in wonder at the engraving.

“What is this?” He murmured.

At this Twilight looked away, her cheeks reddening. She raised a hoof to her mouth as she suppressed a giggle.

“What?” Spike smiled a confused smile.

“It’s called...” Twilight coughed, and her voice lowered to a whisper “It’s called the Talisman of Lovers.”

Spike’s own cheeks darkened.

“Oh.” he said simply.

“Yeah.” Twilight said from the back of her throat. “You know that reason you want it? That’s exactly why the Ponies of moons gone by wanted it too.”

Twilight continued to fight back her mirth as Spike sheepishly pulled the chain over his head and allowed the talisman to hang around his neck. After taking a moment to allow the grin to drop off her face, Twilight cleared her throat.

“Alright, so now that you’re wearing it, the Talisman should respond to your thoughts. If you concentrate on a place you’ve either been to before or are familiar with enough to accurately visualize, a portal should open. Try visualizing your room. See if you can get a portal open.”

Spike nodded, took a deep breath and closed his eyes. After a few moments, the talisman glowed faintly. A portal at the foot of the stairs began to crackle into life.

“Yes! Yes, you’re doing it!” Twilight squealed excitedly.

As the portal grew in size, a few light flakes of snow drifted through. Twilight’s brow furrowed in confusion, and when the circular entrance to...somewhere else was fully open, she looked through properly.

The red door of Rarity 4 You, Yakyakistan branch stared back at her. The Alicorn threw Spike an exasperated glance.

“Seriously?”

Spike’s face burnt.

“Sorry.” He said to the floor. “I was trying to concentrate on my room, but then at the last second...”

He gestured to the portal. Twilight rolled her eyes.

“Fine.” She sighed. “See if you can close it again. Just will it shut and it should obey.”

Again the Dragon nodded and closed his eyes once more. After a few seconds the portal lazily began to close in on itself before it disappeared with a magical hiss.

“Well done.” Twilight intoned.

“Seems easy enough,” Spike replied.

“Wait, wait, wait, there’s more.” Twilight held her hoof in the air. “It’s time to go over safety features.”

Spike nodded with the slightest of eyerolls.

“See if you can open a portal to your room again.” Twilight repeated. “And try and keep your mind off certain fashionistas this time.”

Twilight watched as Spike concentrated and the portal once again spluttered into life. This time, it opened into the drab confines of Spike’s bedroom.

“Good,” Twilight smiled. She poked her foreleg through the hole and held it there. She turned to the Dragon who was watching her inquisitively. “Now, try to close it.”

“Close it?” Spike repeated, incredulously. “But your leg-”

“It’s fine.” Twilight dismissed with a smile. “Try.”

Spike frowned at her but acquiesced. He closed his eyes and attempted to close the portal. Twilight glanced at the magical gateway. It crackled angrily, but held in place. Spike opened his eyes and looked at the portal in wonder.

“You see?” Twilight laughed. “An active safety feature. It’s impossible to close the portal while there’s living organic matter in the way.”

Spike snorted a chuckle through his nose.

“Handy.”

“However,” Twilight continued, “the same is not true for inorganic material. Observe.”

Twilight magically levitated a nearby lamp from a table and held it halfway through the opening.

“Now, try again.”

Once again the Dragon concentrated. The portal shrank in size and vanished, neatly slicing the lamp perfectly in two. Twilight levitated the slightly smoldering remains of the metal stand up for him to see.

“You’ll never be able to lose a limb to this artifact, but make sure you give yourself enough time to step through, because it’ll slice through clothes and luggage no problem.” She announced.

“Got it.”

It was the early evening, and the School of Friendship was a far cry from the buzz of activity it had earlier been. The students having either gone home or else retired to their dorms or nipped out to peruse the night-time attractions Ponyville had to offer, the only sounds that could be heard was the rushing water of the numerous waterfalls that cascaded around, and indeed through, the school. Not that there was anycreature around to hear them. The sun was beginning to set in the sky, staining the clouds on the horizon a deep crimson, and the birdsong was beginning to die out. Other than the running water, all was still outside the institute.

A crackle of magic interrupted the calm as a portal spluttered into life. It hung in the air, just over the steppingstones in the pool in front of the school before a purple dragon tentatively poked his head through. He looked around, sniffing the air lightly, before stepping through. He balanced carefully on one of the stones, before turning his attention back to the magical opening. At his mental behest, it shrank in size before disappearing completely with a light pop.

Spike turned back to the school, before sighing and hopping his way to the entrance.

Applebloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo lightly padded down the carpeted hallway in the direction of Starlight’s office.

“I wonder what this is all about,” Sweetie Belle thought out loud for what must have been the umpteenth time.

“No idea,” Applebloom snipped back tetchily, still moderately annoyed that she was missing her dance class for this.

“Well, we know it’s something big,” Scootaloo said quickly, picking up on her friend’s tone. “Must be something that only the Crusaders can help with.”

Applebloom offered the Pegasus a weak smile. They turned a corner and found themselves on the same corridor as the headmare’s office. Walking towards them from the other end, they spotted a familiar face. As their eyes met, the Dragon offered the mare’s a smile, and raised his hand in a casual wave.

“Hiya, Spike!” Scootaloo cried, shooting him a wave of her own.

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom waved too, and within a few seconds they were all together, just outside the door to Starlight’s office.

“Ladies,” Spike drawled with a grin. “What brings you here? I thought the school would be mostly empty by now.”

“We’ve got a job for Starlight to report to.” Applebloom grumbled. “Mandatory overtime.”

“Oh, me too.” Spike replied, missing Apple Bloom’s sour mood. “Must be the same thing. I guess we’ll be working together.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sweetie Belle said quickly. “You’re on this job too? Is that what Starlight meant when she said this came from the top? From the Princess?”

The Dragon shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He answered. “Twilight gave me my marching orders this morning.”

The trio game him a blank stare for a couple of seconds.

“Well?” Scootaloo blurted finally. “Spill it, what is this?”

“No idea. I was just told to report to Starlight. I have my suspicions though...”

The Dragon’s words hung in the air for a few moments, before a blurry purple and pink shape appeared at the window in the headmare’s door. After a moment it opened, and a slightly disheveled Starlight Glimmer greeted the friends.

“Girls!” She smiled. “I thought I heard voices out here.”

Her attention turned to the Dragon.

“Spike! You’re here too, perfect. Step inside everypony!”

The headmare stood aside, gesturing for the creatures to enter. The Crusaders shuffled in, closely followed by Spike. Inside three chairs had been set up in front of Starlight’s desk, and a large blank blackboard on wheels beside it.

“Sorry Spike, I wasn’t expecting you so soon,” the mare fussed at the Crusaders took their seats. “Here, let me rustle up another chair.”

The three mares took the chairs provided while Starlight left the office. Spike waited patiently, and after a few moments, the headmare returned, a rickety wooden chair in hoof. She placed it next to the Crusaders. Spike stepped over, flipped the chair around and sat on it backwards, resting his arms on the backrest. Starlight blinked at the splayed-legged display but passed no comment.

“So,” the headmare announced, looking around the quartet. “I’m sure you all have a lot of questions.”

There was a series of nods and murmurs of affirmation from the seated creatures.

“Well, rest assured that I’ll be answering them now,” Starlight smiled. “First, however...”

The Unicorn’s horn glowed a pale turquoise and expelled a large bubble that grew in size until it engulfed the whole room. Spike and the Crusaders regarded it with varying levels of interest.

“A simple sound-proofing spell,” Starlight explained. “Everything I’m about to tell you is classified.”

The seated creatures exchanged glances. Starlight stood on her hind legs and leaned on her desk, facing the creatures. Her eyes dropped to her carpet as she organized her thoughts. She took a deep breath, then outlined the details of the project to her colleagues.

When the headmare had finished the crusaders sat in a stunned silence. Only Spike didn’t seem surprised, but his face wore an expression of quiet apprehension.

“So, uh, that’s what we’ll be doing.” Starlight said lamely, circling around her desk and taking her chair. “Any questions?”

Spike slumped his chin onto the backrest of his chair and raised his hand. Starlight nodded in his direction.

“Not really a question, but I’d like it on the record that I think this is a terrible idea.” The Dragon stated.

“Duly noted.” The headmare replied, tapping the tips of her hooves together. She turned her attention to the three ponies. “Can I assume that everypony has similar reservations?”

The Crusaders exchanged worried glances. Finally, Apple Bloom spoke.

“Well, yeah, kinda...” She relented.

“I understand,” Starlight smiled kindly. “But, as I say, this comes from the Princess herself, and I for one am not going to run from the challenge.”

The four friends fixed her with a hard stare.

“Neither are we,” Scootaloo announced. Her fellow Crusaders nodded and smiled determined smiles. Then all eyes turned to the Dragon in the room.

Spike left his chin where it was on his chair, but he did offer the Ponies a dramatic eyeroll.

“I do what Twilight tells me.” He said simply, with little enthusiasm. “We’re gonna need to plan this very carefully though.”

“That’s exactly what this first meeting is all about,” Starlight beamed, rising from her chair and striding to the blackboard. She flipped it over and displayed what was written on the other side. In her own neat hoof-writing, the following words were displayed:

One at a time

Least to most dangerous

Magical dampening where necessary

Left alone for as little time as possible

Regular counseling sessions

The Killswitch Contingency

“This is what I have so far,” she announced proudly. “I’ll go through it with you now, and if anypony-”

The headmare paused, and raised a hoof towards Spike.

“-or Dragon- thinks of anything else we’ll add it on.”

Spike nodded her way appreciatively.

“Most of this is pretty self-explanatory,” The Unicorn continued, “But let’s review it all anyway.”

She pointed to the first line.

“If we’re going to do this, we do it one of them at a time.”

The other creatures nodded in agreement.

“They’ve shown the preliminary leanings of friendship in the past-”

“Wait,” Sweetie Belle interjected. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Ordinarily I’d agree with you,” Starlight continued without missing a beat, “however in this case their capacity, however slight, for co-operation makes them exceptionally dangerous.”

“You don’t want them coordinating an attack together.” Spike muttered out of the side of his mouth to the Crusader.

“Precisely.” Starlight replied, tapping the board with her hoof. “When we have the first of them un-petrified we’ll work on guiding their ability into more constructive avenues.”

Starlight paused, looking back at her audience. Each of them was staring at her attentively. She turned back to the board.

“Which brings me to my next point,” she said, hoofing the next line down. “We work from the least dangerous to the most dangerous.”

“I guess that means Cozy Glow is first.” Spike piped up.

“Right.” Starlight confirmed. “She’s literally a foal with no magical abilities. A highly intelligent, conniving, manipulative foal, but a foal nonetheless. It’s up for debate who comes next.”

Simultaneously, Spike and Applebloom said ‘Tirek’, while Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo said ‘Chrysalis’. The quartet exchanged confused looks.

“Well, like I say, it’s up for debate,” Starlight smiled. “We can cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Thankfully, her words re-focused the creatures on her.

“The next point though,” Starlight moved her hoof down the list, “this won’t apply to Cozy Glow, just to Chrysalis and Tirek.”

“Keep a lid on their magical abilities,” Scootaloo noted. “Got it.”

“It’s fairly obvious,” The headmare nodded. “We’ll use inhibitor rings and whatever else is necessary. This will take some research though. We need to find a way to limit Tirek’s ability to consume magical energy, and I don’t even know if an inhibitor ring will affect Changeling magic.”

The Unicorn turned from her board and found four sets of concerned eyes looking back at her.

“Again, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” She sighed. “I think we need to treat Cozy Glow as a proof of concept for the entire project. If we can get her right then we can say we’re on the right track. If not, then I may have to go to Twilight and ask her to re-evaluate her expectations.”

The headmare shook her head, glancing back at the board. That was a nagging thought to be kicked down the road to be worried about later. She slid her hoof down the board to the next point.

“This one’s fairly self-explanatory too,” She said, raising her hoof to her chin and leaving a dusty chalk mark there. “Obviously, until we’re sure that they can be trusted, we want them left to their own devices as little as possible.”

“Hold on,” Spike raised his hand. “Does this mean they’re going to need round the clock supervision?”

“Not twenty-four hours, but I’d say at the very least during their waking time, yes.”

Spike frowned.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Starlight enquired.

“No,” Spike said hastily, “but I do have something going on right now. I’ll need at least some evenings off.”

Starlight nodded.

“We’ll arrange a rota so that every-creature gets their requisite time off.”

She turned to the board and added the word ‘rota’ to the bottom.

“Are you doing anything important?” The headmare added with a smile.

“No.” Spike replied bluntly, pointedly not elaborating.

The Crusaders gave each other quizzical looks, before Scootaloo silently mouthed the word ‘marefriend’ to the others. The three barely managed to stifle their giggles as Spike quietly sighed a deep sigh. Starlight bit back a giggle of her own.

“Obviously, this precaution is so we know what they’re up to at all times, and they aren’t doing anything...inappropriate.” The headmare continued. “Moving on.”

She tapped the penultimate line.

“The regular counseling sessions...” She read thoughtfully, before shaking her head clear of whatever thoughts were drifting through her mind. “They’ll be conducted by me, possibly with other creatures sitting in, at everyone’s discretion. It’s been a while since I’ve been doing sessions, but hopefully I’ll get back into the swing of things soon enough.”

The other creatures nodded. Starlight gave a small smile. There was a long silence, then Applebloom raised a hoof into the air.

“So, uh, what’s ‘The Killswitch Contingency’?”

Starlight gave her a hard stare.

“That’s something I’ve come up with that I’m going to have Twilight integrate into the spell she uses to un-petrify them.” She explained gravely. “Basically, it’s a last resort final fail-safe. We set up a code-word, and at any point after any one of them has been freed, anyone of us can speak this word within their ear-shot and it will...”

She trailed off. The four creatures leaned forward on her chairs.

“It’ll re-petrify them.” Starlight finished. “Generally speaking, I not a fan of conditional second chances, but with the case of these three, I don’t think we have much choice.”

“We don’t.” Spike confirmed flatly. Starlight nodded in his direction.

“Well, that pretty much covers what I have so far,” she finished. “Unless anyone has anything to add...”

She paused, looking from face to face of the other creatures present. They all met her gaze evenly.

“...good. Tomorrow, I’d like you three-” The headmare gestured to the crusaders “-to dig into Cozy Glow. Check the Cloudsdale records, Ponyville, wherever. Try to find out who she is and where she came from. Nopony ever came forward asking about her when she was arrested all those years ago, so I’m guessing you won’t find much, but see what you can uncover. We know virtually nothing about her.”

The Crusaders nodded compliantly; their expressions determined.

“Spike, you set up a dream meeting with Twilight please. We’ll give her everything we’ve spoken about here, plus anything the girls find.”

Spike raised his head from the chair and nodded.

“Thank you all,” Starlight finished. “I know this is a lot, but I’m hoping that if we work together, and keep the principals of friendship close to heart, we’ll make some real progress here, and do the Princess proud.”

With that, she dismissed the soundproofing spell, which flickered and died within a matter of seconds.

“Get a good night’s sleep,” the headmare said with a thin smile. “Dismissed.”

As the other creatures shifted out of their seats, Sweetie Belle tentatively raised her hoof, her ears flattened against her head. Starlight closed her eyes in silent annoyance. She’d just dismissed the spell for Celestia’s sake...

“Yes. Sweetie Belle.”

“Oh, um...” Sweetie started, uncomfortably. “It’s just, um, if this goes well, can we have a refrigerator for the treehouse, please?”

Starlight stared at her for a few seconds.

“Girls, if we pull this off, you can have a pinball machine and a minibar up there for all I care.”

Starlight clutched the bottle close to her chest as she strode through the grounds of the School of Friendship. She wandered across the steppingstones, past the roaring waterfalls, and began to trek around the side of the colossal building towards the rear. She pulled her blazer close over her coat to protect against the rushing wind and cast a glance to the moody sky. Frowning, she continued to walk, surmising that she probably should have just teleported herself.

A short walk later she arrived at the rear of the school and made her way to a space between two tall turrets, where a ramshackle caravan stood. It was weatherbeaten, and green mildew was starting to creep up the wheels; it had stood there for so long. The pale purple paintwork was cracked and chipped, and the wizard-hat shaped tin chimney was bent and showing patches of rust.

Starlight paused in her walk and sighed. She’d been putting off this meeting for obvious reasons, and now that she was here her legs felt weak and there seemed to be an infestation of creepy-crawlies going on her stomach. The wind seemed to concur with her body; it blew brutally into her face, causing her to narrow her watering eyes. Defiantly ignoring both her body and the elements, she pressed on and strode to the steps of the door. She rapped loudly on the wood, at this point desperate to not only get this over with but to escape the chilly wind. Over the air rushing about her ears, she fancied that she heard rummaging around inside the small dwelling. After a few moments, the door opened a crack.

“Who is it?” a voice tainted by annoyance called out. “The grrrreat and tired Trrrixie needs her beauty sleep.”

“It’s Starlight,” Starlight replied unnecessarily. “I’m sorry it’s late Trixie. Have you got a few minutes to chat?”

Through the crack in the doorway Starlight saw a single violet eye roll in its socket. The counselor opened the door further, revealing her entire face. Her hair has brushed back and a stripy button-down pyjama top hung loosely around her withers. She regarded Starlight with an irritated raised eyebrow.

“This’d better not be about work.”

“It is,” Starlight confessed guiltily, “but I brought drinks?”

She held out the bottle for her friend to see.

“Why didn’t you say so?” Trixie replied, her face immediately brightening as she flung the door open.

Starlight smiled as she stepped inside the cramped caravan. The interior was warm and cozy, and though the outside of the home was in dire need of repair, the interior was a well maintained, if messy, set up. Towards the rear of the caravan Trixie’s hammock hung, a ruffled blanket and pillow resting upon it. At the front there was a small stove with a miniscule counter-top beside it with various cups and bowls standing higgledy-piggledy on top. Lining the walls of the caravan there were numerous crates, stacked haphazardly on top of each other, each one with various pieces of magical equipment poking out. Starlight navigated her way over the worn paisley carpet, inched around a box that had a wand with a colourful bouquet of plastic flowers protruding from the tip, and carefully lowered herself into the hammock, there not being any other obvious places to sit.

Trixie levitated two tumblers from the counter and followed the headmare to her bed, the entire caravan creaking softly as she did so. Starlight smiled. She had offered Trixie a permanent residence at the school of course, but the Unicorn had flatly refused. Sitting inside of the thing, Starlight could see why. It was eccentric, yet comforting, inviting, and utterly adorable. Much like its owner.

The faintest twinge of redness played across Starlight’s cheeks as Trixie sat down next to her. Thankfully, the blue Unicorn didn’t seem to notice her friend’s flustered state. The weight of the pair of the mares on the hammock pulled them close together, hip to hip, which really wasn’t helping Starlight’s mind focus on what she wanted to say.

Trixie floated one of the glasses over to the headmare, which she accepted, and concentrated on uncorking the bottle.

“So,” Trixie drawled. “What’s up?”

A soft pop sound announced that Starlight had gained access to the bottle, and she poured the red wine into the glass that was eagerly thrust her way. Starlight paused in her reply to fill her own glass before carefully lowering the bottle to the floor.

“I need you to take on the headmare duties around here for a while.”

“Me? Headmare?” Trixie gasped. “Why? You’re not leaving are you?”

“No, no,” Starlight reassured, waving a hoof in the air. “I’m not going anywhere. I just have an important job to do.”

“Oh. Good.” The blue Unicorn exhaled. “You had me worried for a second there. Trixie barely gets to see you as it is.”

Starlight grinned as her butterflies swarmed.

“I know. I’m sorry. After this is done, I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“Trixie’s heard that one before,” she pouted as she took a swig from her glass. “What’s the job, anyway?”

Starlight sighed.

“It’s from the Princess,” the headmare frowned, swilling her wine around in her glass. “It’s a pretty big deal.”

“Twilight.” Trixie groaned, momentarily eyeing the roof. “What’s she got you doing this time?”

“I’m not supposed to talk about it. It’s classified.”

“Oh, come on!” Trixie cried in outrage, giving her friend a light dig in the shoulder. “We’re best friends! You’re Trixie’s only friend, who else would I tell?”

Starlight threw her friend a sympathetic smile before inhaling deeply.

“No, y’know what, you’re right. Just let me, uh...”

Starlight held her glass close to her chest in her hooves as she once again pushed the sound-proofing bubble spell out of her horn. Trixie looked on in wonder as the spell washed over her and engulfed the room.

“Prevents anypony from listening in.” Starlight smirked.

“Wow.” Trixie breathed. “You’re not kidding, this is a big deal, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea.”

Starlight proceeded to carefully outline everything that had happened to her since – Celestia, had it only been a day? - though she conveniently left out the part about the dream she’d had and Twilight’s subsequent intrusion. Trixie, to her credit listened attentively as her friend unfolded her tale, almost forgetting to refill her glass halfway through. Almost.

“...and so now I’m here, asking you to fill in for me, while I try to unravel this massive pile of garbage that Twilight’s dumped on me.”

“Whoa.” Trixie whispered. “You could have just said ‘no’, you know?”

Starlight snorted a bitter chuckle.

“No. No, I really shouldn’t talk like that.” she remanded herself. “It’s a great honor that she trusts me with...this. And I know you’re not her biggest fan, but I owe a heck of a lot to Twilight Sparkle. I just don’t want to let her down.”

At some point during Starlight’s lengthy explanation, Trixie had shifted herself in the hammock into a lying down position, her rear hooves now resting across Starlight’s lap. At the time the headmare’s nerves had gone into overdrive, all too aware of the similarities between her current situation and the dream she’d neglected to tell her friend about. She could feel Trixie’s silky fur lightly tickling her thighs, and she found that she didn’t know what to do with her hooves. In the end, she settled on holding her glass in one, and resting the other lightly on the blue mare’s leg. If she didn’t like it she could damn well move. Trixie didn’t, and afterwards Starlight began to relax, and was able to finish her story.

“Still though,” Trixie stifled a yawn. “Trust her to hoof you this out of nowhere.”

“Hm,” Starlight smiled, staring absently at her hoof on her friend’s shin. “So you’ll do it then? Take over as headmare for a while, I mean.”

She retrieved the bottle from under Trixie’s side of the bed and topped up both their glasses with the last of the contents.

“Are you kidding?” the mare replied. “Trixie will be the greatest and most powerful temporary headmare the school has ever seen!”

“Thank you.” Starlight whispered effusively, giving the Unicorn’s shin an involuntary light squeeze. “I’ll get you my schedule tomorrow.”

“Did you tell her I’d be the one taking over?” Trixie grinned slyly at her friend. “Twilight, I mean.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I had to. It was one of the first questions she had for me.”

“Bet she loved that.” Trixie’s grin widened. “Celestia, I wish I could’ve seen her face.”

“Actually, she said you were the perfect choice.”

“Huh? Really?” Trixie’s eyes widened, before returning to their sleepy, half lidded expression. “Well, I suppose they do say wisdom comes with age.”

Starlight chuckled lightly. Trixie really was the perfect Pony to talk to when you were feeling irked by the Princess of Friendship. The perfect Pony to talk to in most situations really, or so it seemed to the headmare in that exact moment. She took another mouthful of her wine, leaving only the silty dregs behind in the glass. She was still observing the mare’s legs over her own. She dragged her hoof a fraction of an inch over her friend’s blue fur. The booze was starting to make her feel warm, and in that moment all she wanted to do was cuddle up beside Trixie and fall asleep. She resisted the urge.

“A-actually, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about...” She stammered, looking down to hide her burning face. “See, I had this really weird dream, and-”

A loud snore from the other side of the hammock stopped her dead in her tracks. She snapped her head towards her friend, and saw her sprawled on the bed, mouth open wide, eyes closed. Her glass was still held limply in her hoof, on the verge of tipping the remains of her drink all over herself.

“Oh.” Starlight commented in frustration as she hastily levitated the glass away from her friend’s hoof.

“Great...powerful Trixie...volunteer from...audience...” Came the murmured reply.

Starlight smiled, and carefully extracted herself from under the Unicorn’s legs. As lightly as she could, she stepped down from the hammock, levitated both their glasses to the countertop and gently arranged the blanket on top of her friend. She smiled as Trixie rolled onto her side, a smile tugging at the corners of her blue mouth.

“Goodnight Trixie.” She whispered. “Hope it’s a good show.”

The magician peeped something unintelligible as Starlight turned and tip-hoofed her way back to the door. She paused only briefly at the counter to drain what remained of her friend’s drink. No sense in wasting that.

She quietly opened the door and closed it behind her, disappearing into the night.

Author's Note

Tra la la la la
I have no idea where this plot is going
Tra la la la la la

Hope you enjoy.

8. Starlight Plans, Twilight Laughs

Starlight sat on the edge of her seat and carefully watched the Princess peruse the document that magically levitated. As Starlight shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the only sound that could be heard in Twilight’s cavernous study was the gentle sound of parchment being turned and the occasional ‘hm’ from the Alicorn.

It was morning, the sun still low on the horizon, and the shafts of light had still yet to reach the front of the room where Twilight sat behind her gigantic writing desk. The same was not true for Starlight, who could feel the warm rays creeping up her back, making her feel even more uncomfortable in an already tense situation. To pass the time that seemed to be crawling by at the pace of an arthritic tortoise, she scanned the circumference of the room, taking in the magenta glow of Twilight’s sound proofing spell. She had originally planned to wait until the evening, for when Spike would arrange a dream meeting to present the action plan in its completion to the Princess, but upon waking that morning, she figured that there was no time like the present. Spike and the girls had the research task well in hoof, and while they were off in the Cloudsdale and Ponyville hall of records, she had little to do but wait, and the tension of that was killing her. Besides, Canterlot Castle was but a step away when you could teleport.

Eventually, Twilight finished reading the action plan. All of the points from the board were there, along with a paragraph or so explaining her reasoning behind each one. As Twilight rested the pages on the surface of her desk and removed her half-moon reading glasses, the headmare anxiously applied a vice like grip to both her knees. The Princess fixed her with hard stare, her expression neutral.

“Starlight, I’m sorry, but there’s no way I can sign off on this.”

The Unicorn nodded, desperately trying to keep the disappointment off her face.

“I see.” She responded, allowing her eyes to close for a second. “What is it? Not enough security measures?”

The Princess shook her head gravely.

“Too many.”

Starlight fixed her mentor with an expression of bewildered outrage, her eyes wide, her brow furrowed.

“Too...many...?” She repeated.

Twilight breathed deeply, tapping the tips of her hooves together.

“Starlight, this plan doesn’t read like reformation.” She reached over the desk and tapped the pages. “It reads like reprogramming.”

“But...but the safety of my staff!” Starlight stammered, not quite believing what she was hearing. “Of Equestria at large! How am I supposed to control them if I can’t-”

“You’re not supposed to control them at all,” Twilight cut her off gently but sternly. “You’re supposed to educate them. Aside from your counseling sessions here, I see nothing in this plan that’s working to that end.”

Starlight rose from her chair and paced around the room, trying and for the most part failing to keep a lid on the rage that was bubbling inside her.

“Okay, okay,” she said calmly, too calmly, “why don’t we go through the list and you can tell me the parts you take issue with.”

Starlight’s demeanor not lost on the Princess, she sighed and picked up the document once more.

“Okay, well let’s start with the first one. You want to tackle them one at a time?”

Starlight continued her pacing but looked up at Twilight.

“Yes. That seems reasonable to me. When they were working together they were a much bigger threat. They practically brought Equestria to its knees.”

“Listen to what you’re saying, Starlight.” Twilight said patiently. “When they were working together. That sounds like the beginnings of friendship to me. Do you really want to strip them of what little progress they’ve already made?”

“A friendship that is nakedly self-serving and a simple means to an end is hardly friendship, Twilight. I feel like I shouldn’t have to point that out to you, of all Ponies.”

“I said the beginnings of friendship.” Twilight countered. “Splitting them up will put you back at square one, and in addition you’ll have the uphill battle of none of them trusting you or the others an inch.”

“I see.” Starlight glowered. “And what, pray tell, am I supposed to do when the three of them are rampaging through the countryside powering Celestia knows what evil scheme? When Ponies lives are at risk?”

“If that should occur, we’ll fight them together, like we have countless times before. The power of friendship hasn’t let us down yet.”

“Not good enough, Twilight!” Starlight raised her voice. “Not good enough at all. By the time you’re aware of what’s going on, not to mention get here, the cost could be severe.”

There was a pause. The mares glared at each other. Finally, after a few moments, Twilight looked away.

“Let’s put a pin in that one for now then.” She said. “Let’s talk about this part; you don’t want them left alone at all?”

Starlight strode to the colossal windows of Twilight’s study and gazed out at Equestria’s rolling hills and valleys.

“The more time they’re left alone, the more time they have to plot. The more they plot, the more likely it is that we’re going to run into a problem.”

“Not giving them any down time whatsoever is akin to torture, Starlight.”

Starlight’s head whipped around.

“That...” She swallowed back her fury. “That is one heck of a thing for you to say to me.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” The Princess attempted to placate. “I’m just saying, they need to have a chance to relax with their own thoughts. Otherwise you’re never going to get through them.”

“And how well did that work out when Discord got the gang together, hmm?” Starlight returned her attention to scowling out of the window. “They had plenty of alone time out there in the Equestrian wilderness, even the Lord of Chaos himself couldn’t keep them under control.”

“Control was never Discord’s strong suit.” Twilight commented. “If he’d been less foolhardy, and had better planning and help, he might have achieved what we’re trying to do here.”

“Are you joking? His plan all along was to set them up like bowling pins for you and your friends to knock over! He didn’t once think about redeeming any of them!”

Starlight returned to pacing the breadth of the room.

“I didn’t say it was perfect.” Twilight conceded. “I’m just saying, in some weird kind of way, some of his ideas were on the right track. It’s just his end goal and his execution that was terrible.”

Starlight could make no reply, just continue her traipsing.

“Maybe if he’d had help.” Twilight continued. “Maybe if he’d consulted with his friends. Maybe we could have guided him. Maybe we could have really achieved something with those three back then.”

Starlight opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, but seemingly she thought better of it and closed it again.

“I see.” She said after a couple more lengths. “Anything else?”

Twilight once again sighed.

“Only this.” Twilight held up the page and pointed at it. “This so called ‘Killswitch Contingency’. There’s no way I’m integrating this into their release.”

“That was to only be used as a last resort,” Starlight fumed. “A final failsafe. Just something we could use to stop them in their tracks if we absolutely had to.”

“You’d really try to teach them about friendship while you’ve got a guillotine dangling over their heads?” Twilight said, her hooves on her desk and rising from her chair. “Come on, Starlight. You think they’ll be responsive to your teachings?”

“I wasn’t planning on actually telling them about it.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.” Twilight walked around her desk and stood beside Starlight’s angry pacing. “If anything, that makes it worse. Friendship begins with trust. We can’t bring them into the light if we employ tools of darkness.”

Starlight snorted a cold, humorless laugh.

“Oh, very poetic, Twilight.” She said as she passed her mentor by. “You talk as though I’m an executioner. I’m just talking about returning to the state they’re in now, a state that, I might add, you put them in.”

She jabbed an accusing hoof in the Princess’ direction on her way back. Now it was Twilight’s turn to feel twinges of anger in her chest.

“Because back then we had no choice! Now I have one, and it’s time for them to have one. I’ve never tried to limit the freedom of any of the creatures I’ve helped redeem, not with Discord-”

“And look how well that turned out. What are we at, two betrayals?”

“-and not with you.”
“YOU SHOULD HAVE!” Starlight bellowed, wheeling on her friend, her face twisted into a scowl of white-hot rage and the first sheen of tears coating her eyes.

Twilight was stunned into an open-mouthed silence, her ears flattened against her head. Starlight pressed her advantage.

“You should have.” She repeated, her statement seemingly as much a surprise to herself as to her friend. “You got lucky with me. What would have happened if I hadn’t been receptive to your friendship teachings? I was right in your home, Twilight, amongst your friends and family. What would have happened if I’d gone back to my old ways? What would have happened if I’d gone after revenge again?”

Twilight placed a hoof on her friend’s shoulder.

“And would you have been so receptive to my teachings if you knew there were strings attached?”

Starlight fell silent, her eyes stinging.

“We need to have faith, Starlight. Just like I had in you. And it’s faith-” The Princess nodded in the direction of the papers on the table, “-that’s sorely lacking from your plan.”

Starlight’s eyes fell to the floor. Her pacing had ceased and she resisted the urge to sniff as the Princess made her way back to her desk.

“I am open to compromise though,” Twilight said as she sat herself back down in her chair. Her words snapped Starlight back to attention.

“Go on.” She said in a quiet, sad voice as she too returned to her chair.

“Drop the ‘killswitch’, let them have a little bit of privacy, and show me some friendship activities that might actually help them build healthy relationships,” Twilight counted off.

“Friendship activities?” Starlight repeated, cutting in. “What kind of activities are you looking for?”

“I don’t know,” Twilight sighed, glancing to the ceiling. “You’re the headmare. Draw on your lesson plans and find something appropriate.”

“You want me to start a Buckball team with them?” Starlight asked, her voice devoid of emotion.

“I don’t know, why not?” Twilight shrugged. “It’s something. Whatever you think is best.”

Starlight once again snorted a laugh and shook her head slightly.

“If you can do all that,” Twilight continued, “then I’ll agree to you tackling them one at a time.”

“I see.”

“You’re probably right,” Twilight sighed. “The benefits of having them together are far outweighed by the risk. Probably best to just start them from scratch.”

“Okay then.” Starlight replied, still not showing any emotion or meeting her mentor’s gaze.

A long silence permeated the room. Twilight stared sympathetically at her friend, who still wasn’t able to look her in the eye. She hadn’t meant to crush her, but her plan... it was just completely in the wrong direction.

“Has Spike sent you any messages today?” Starlight broke the silence suddenly.

“Spike? Ah, no. Not that I’m aware of.”

“He will, at some point. He’ll ask to set up a dream meeting for tonight. When he does, tell him I’ve already cancelled it.”

“O-oh. Okay.”

“I’m going to need an extra day to discuss these changes with my team and to draw up a new plan.” Starlight said simply.

“I understand.”

“Well, if that’s everything,” Starlight said flatly, rising from her chair.

“Starlight,” The Princess said softly as she did so. “I know you’re upset and how hard you worked on this. But I want you to be their teacher, not their warden. If that was what I wanted, I wouldn’t have asked someone as talented as you. I’d have just had one of my guards do it.”

Starlight paused on her journey to the door, but said nothing, just shooting the Princess a pained look. As she reached out for the door handle, Twilight spoke again.

“Starlight. I’m sorry, but there’s something else. I really don’t mean to pile on you right now, but there’s another problem.”

The headmare slowly retracted her hoof from the door, giving Twilight a dark look. Twilight looked away, guiltily.

“I need you to take Apple Bloom off this project.”

“What?!” Starlight gasped, turning her whole body towards the Princess. “You are joking. Why?!”

“I’m not at liberty to say.” Twilight squirmed.

Starlight glared at her.

“What, just Apple Bloom?” She growled. “Why just her? What possible reason-”

She stopped as the realization dawned on her.

“Applejack.” She chuckled. “You told their sisters about their involvement. Applejack doesn’t want her sister doing anything dangerous.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that hypothesis,” Twilight said carefully.

“You know as well as I do that two Crusaders is the same as no Crusaders!” Starlight argued. “Without Apple Bloom, at best Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo’s hearts won’t be in their work, at worst, they’ll just quit the project too, and I wouldn’t blame them.”

“Please just take her off the project.” Twilight pleaded.

“No.” Starlight replied.

Twilight shot her friend an agonised expression.

“You made me the leader of this project, Twilight. If I’m to run it, I’ll do so as I see fit. The Crusaders are my staff, not yours. Tell Applejack that if she has a problem with her sister’s job, then come and see me. My office hours are nine to six.”

The Unicorn twisted the door handle.

“Until tomorrow, your highness.”

With that, the Unicorn opened the door to Twilight’s study, ripped it through the magical barrier, and slammed it shut behind her.

Twilight placed a hoof to her forehead and slowly dragged it across her face, momentarily distorting her features as she emitted a low groan.

“That went well.” She said to the empty room.

Starlight stared grimly out of her office window. It was early evening, and she’d spent the day alternating between pacing, raging, worrying, and a few blissful minutes where she allowed herself to think about Trixie.

The others would be back soon, and no doubt Spike and Scootaloo would be wondering why the night’s dream meeting had been cancelled. The four friends had been divided into two teams, the aforementioned having headed to Cloudsdale to consult the records there, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle took Ponyville. The headmare moved away from the window and continued her activity of wearing a groove into her office carpet.

Twilight Sparkle. Twilight Tartarus damned Sparkle. It had taken her five minutes to tear apart a plan that had taken her two fretful days to put together. A plan that she’d requested. If this was the way she was going to play this, why not just write the damn thing herself? And that was before she even got into how it had been torn apart.

How dare she. Torture? The whole meeting had made her feel like she was the monster, the criminal, the one who needed correcting. Her eyes stung once again at the memory, and she scowled at her blackboard that still bore the chalk writing of the original plan. She just wanted to protect her staff, her students, everypony. That was the essence of the project. Wasn’t it?

‘This is the kind of thing you’d have come up with when you were still in that village,’ a nasty little voice in her mind piped up.

Starlight raised her hoof and only just stopped herself from sweeping her desktop furniture to the floor, and flipping the table. If she was being completely honest with herself, it was Fern who made her stop.

She wasn’t a monster. She wasn’t. Her eyes welled up with tears. She didn’t want to be a prison warden, a brainwasher, not again. She hadn’t wanted to be that the first time.

At least that’s what she told herself.

A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts. She frantically wiped at her eyes with the backs of her hooves and prayed that there was no lingering redness. She took several deep breaths before she answered.

“Come in.”

Her voice sounded hollow, weak and hoarse. She hoped against hope that Spike and the girls wouldn’t notice, but she knew her chances of that were slimmer than Celestia’s rap collection.

The door opened and Spike stepped inside, closely followed by the Crusaders.

“We’re back,” he said unnecessarily. “I’m afraid we don’t have much-”

The Dragon stopped as he noticed Starlight’s puffy swollen face, and the way her eyes were fixed to the floor. She was leaning against her desk, forelegs folded in front of her in a huffy display.

“Are you okay?”

Starlight didn’t reply, she simply gestured to the chairs that were still there from their previous meeting. Spike and the girls exchanged a few tense glances, but silently took their seats.

Starlight strode to the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk.

“I took the beginning of the action plan to Twilight this morning,” she said croakily. “She didn’t much like it.”

The Unicorn drew a line through ‘Left alone for as little time as possible’, and ‘The Killswitch Contingency’. She threw the chalk back into the holder and took a step back so the others could see. She heard, if not a series of gasps, that at the very least a few sharp intakes of breath.

Starlight stared at the blackboard for a moment. Nocreature spoke. The moment became several.

“So where does that leave us?” Sweetie Belle asked eventually.

“It leaves us up the creek,” Spike muttered. “Without a paddle or a damned boat.”

Starlight engulfed the blackboard in her magic suddenly. When every part of the board had been completely covered in her turquoise aura, she scowled a scowl of effort. Slowly, her magic began to contract, and the board began to buckle. A bead of sweat ran down the headmare’s cheek. Then, with a deafening cracking and splintering sound, the board collapsed as her magic shrank, and within seconds, the board, stand, chalk and all was reduced to kindling.

Spike and the Crusaders looked on in fearful astonishment. Starlight deactivated her magic. The wooden splinters fell into a small, neat pile on the floor. She strode around her desk, sat at her chair and regarded her staff properly for the first time since they entered the room.

“Apologies.” She said flatly. Her comment did little to assuage the others’ shocked expressions, so she ploughed on.

“Spike, I’m sure you’re wondering why the dream meeting scheduled for tonight has been cancelled.”

“Huh?” Spike was suddenly snapped out of staring at the pile of shards that was until recently a blackboard. “Oh... oh, yeah.”

“Well, I cancelled it, because I wanted an extra day to prepare. Twilight didn’t really care for any of the plan, but we’ve reached a compromise; we drop the killswitch, let them have a little downtime and add some friendship building activities, and she’ll agree to us tackling them one at a time.”

“She wanted them released all together?!” Apple Bloom cried, aghast.

“Yes, she did.” Starlight monotoned. “I had to fight to get that left on the table.”

Spike inflated his cheeks and blew the air out slowly in the direction of the ceiling. Starlight continued.

“Twilight said that watching them twenty-four-seven would be...”

Starlight drifted off, anger momentarily contorting her face. The four creatures she was addressing leaned forwards, intrigued.

“...It doesn’t matter what she said.” Starlight recovered, her face returning to a neutral expression. “The point is, they’re going to need some time away from prying eyes if they’re going to be able to relax and trust us enough for the lessons to take hold.”

“Yeah, but if we’re not watching them...” Scootaloo muttered. The others looked in her direction.

“What?” She threw her hoof out in front of her. “Cozy Glow had the run of the school when Twilight was in charge, and that ended with Starlight trapped in a magical force-field and the three of us Crusaders locked in the janitor’s closet.”

“Be that as it may,” Starlight replied coldly, “that’s the way Twilight wants it done, so that’s the way we’ll do it.”

She paused, making sure nocreature else had anything they wanted to add.

“And, for much the same reasons, we’re dropping the Killswitch Contingency too.”

The tension in the room was palpable.

“So...” Spike started, desperately trying to be as tactful as possible, “what do we do when they...get out of control?”

“We hope that they don’t.” Starlight replied simply. “We give them reasons to trust us and keep them busy with friendship building activities. If all else fails, we get Twilight.”

“I can see some fairly obvious flaws with that.” The Dragon responded somberly.

“As can I, Spike,” the headmare smiled joylessly. “As can I. But, like before, Twilight refuses to integrate it into their release, so it’s out of the window.”

“Did she say why?” Sweetie enquired.

“Just that it would jeopardize what we’re trying to achieve here. They’ll never respond to us if they know there’s a sword dangling above their heads.”

“This is ridiculous.” Spike lifted himself out of his chair and stormed to the window. “She asks the impossible!”

Starlight sighed. She knew exactly how the Dragon felt, but what could she say? She didn’t want to make her team feel as wretched as she did. It seemed like they were all in agreement during their last meeting, weren’t they? Again, she began to second guess herself. Spike certainly seemed to be in the same frame of mind she was. The Crusaders though...she wondered if they were just going along with her because she was headmare.

She massaged her temples with her hoof-tips.

“It’s not impossible.” Starlight said unconvincingly. “It’s just going to be more difficult.”

There was another long silence. Spike stared despondently out of the window, leaning against the frame.

“Well,” Sweetie Belle disrupted the quiet, “the Killswitch was only ever supposed to be a last resort, right? If all goes well, then we won’t even miss it.”

“Right,” Starlight confirmed, a glimmer of hope fluttering through her mind. “Right, so this is still do-able. We just need to make sure that we stay vigilant, and plan a way to get to Twilight as quickly as possible if we have to.”

“I can help with that,” Spike said, still staring out of the window. He held up his golden amulet. Then, as the mares watched, two portals opened up in the room, one in front of Spike’s chair, one beside Spike. The Dragon stepped through one, appeared instantly out of the other, and sat back down in his chair. Starlight, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle looked on, impressed, while Scootaloo smiled knowingly.

“EEA medallion.” The Dragon half-truthed. “I requisitioned it from Twilight. Thought it would come in handy.”

“It’s how we got to Cloudsdale,” Scootaloo announced. “It’s pretty cool.”

“That’s a good start,” Starlight said. “As long as we make sure that they don’t know you have that, then you can be our new failsafe.”

The others nodded.

“Whut’s this about friendship activities?” Apple Bloom asked after a moment, raising her hoof.

“I’m not exactly sure,” Starlight sighed, her mood plummeting. “I guess we just treat them like they were any other students here. Team building exercises, nature walks, buckball, that sort of thing.”

Spike snorted a laugh.

“I know, I know. We’ve got until tomorrow night to think about it.” Starlight glanced in his direction. “How did everycreature get on digging up information on Cozy Glow?”

There was a series of frowns and shaking of heads from the Ponies and Dragon.

“Not good.” Scootaloo grumbled. “Nothing in the Cloudsdale hall of records. We went back twenty years, not one mention of anypony named ‘Cozy Glow’.”

“It was the same for us.” Apple Bloom agreed. “Nothing at all.”

“I’m not all that surprised,” the headmare muttered. “We don’t even know if Cozy Glow is her real name. In fact, the more I think about it, it probably isn’t.”

“Can you three tell us anything about her cutie mark?” Spike asked suddenly. “That’s your girls’ specialty, right?”

There was a pause, as the Crusaders looked at each other.

“Well, assumin’ that it’s not a fake, it’s a Chess piece.” Apple Bloom replied.

“Specifically, a rook,” Sweetie Belle elaborated. Apple Bloom shot her friend a sour look that happily went unnoticed. She didn’t know a whole lot about fancy games like chess.

“It’s a piece that can move any number of squares horizontally or vertically,” Sweetie continued. “It also has the unique ability to trade places with the king under certain conditions, in a move known as ‘castling’.”

“Right,” Starlight said patiently. “But what does a rook cutie mark signify?”

“Well, if this was anypony other than Cozy Glow, I’d say it’s because Chess was her calling.” Sweetie replied. “However, with her, I’m guessing it’s a metaphor. It probably signifies that she’s a master strategist.”

“That’s certainly in keeping with our experiences with her so far,” Starlight nodded. “Anything else you can tell me?”

“In some cultures, the castle is a symbol of strength or robustness.” Scootaloo cut in. “It could refer to that.”

Apple Bloom glanced between her two friends.

“Have you girls been researchin’ her cutie mark?” She almost whined. “I didn’t know we wuz supposed to be doin’ that!”

“I just had a quick glance into it,” Sweetie Belle coughed.

“There’s only so many times you can fail to find the name ‘Cozy Glow’ in birth records before you get bored.” Scootaloo shrugged. “Sorry, AB.”

“Never mind that,” Starlight interjected. “That part about strength is interesting. It makes sense, she was seemingly able to shrug off Tartarus like it was nothing. I can’t think of many foals who’d be able to do that.”

“That would suggest that we’re gonna have a tough time getting through to her.” Spike frowned.

“Maybe.” Starlight replied, touching her forehooves together. “Maybe with the old plan. I think that’s what Twilight was trying to tell me.”

Starlight looked around the other creatures. They were all staring at her intently, looking for guidance. She suddenly felt extremely ill-equipped for the task before her. Once again, she jabbed at her temples.

“Ok.” She said. “It’s getting late and we still have a lot to do tomorrow if we’re not going to get too far behind schedule. There’s just one more thing I wanted to bring up before we all turn in for the night.”

The creatures present continued to stare at her expectantly.

“Twilight had one more bombshell that she dropped on me during our meeting.” She paused, wondering how best to phrase her statement.

“She told me she wants me to remove one of you from the project.”

“What?!” The Crusaders gasped. “Who?!”

“Apple Bloom.” Starlight sighed.

“Me?!” Apple Bloom cried, her voice cracking. “Why?!”

“She refused to say.” Starlight said evenly. “I have my suspicions though.”

“Does she think ah’m not up to the job?” Apple Bloom moaned, beginning to tear up. “Ah don’t understand-”

“If Apple Bloom’s off the project, we are too!” Scootaloo snarled.

“Yeah!” Sweetie agreed. “The Crusaders are a package deal!”

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down.” Starlight soothed. “First of all, Apple Bloom, I don’t think it has anything to do with Twilight’s confidence in your abilities. She was all for the idea when I first told her you three were my first choice two days ago. Secondly, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, I applaud your loyalty to your friend, and I anticipated that this would be how you’d feel. That’s why I refused.”

“You refused a request from the Princess?” Spike raised an eyebrow.

“You bet your hide I did.” Starlight gave the Dragon a half smile. “Nopony hires and fires my staff but me.”

“Fair play.”

“But ah still don’t understand why...” Apple Bloom sniffled.

“Well, I find it highly suspicious that this comes immediately after one of the Princess’ regular meet ups with her friends...” The headmare prompted. She waited patiently as realization swept over the room.

“Ohhh,” Apple Bloom groaned, rolling her eyes. “My sister.”

“Like I say, I don’t know that for sure, but that’s what my bits would be on, yes.” Starlight confirmed. “To be completely honest with you, I was in two minds about whether to bring it up at all, but we’re all in this together, I owe it to you girls – and to you, Spike – to let you know what’s going on.”

“Mah sister doesn’t git to tell me what ah can an’ can’t do!” Apple Bloom raged.

“No, she doesn’t.” Starlight confirmed. “Don’t worry, nopony’s taking you off the project.”

“Still though. Applejack’s gonna get a piece of my mind, no mistake.”

“I would urge you not to do that.” Starlight said quietly. “Twilight didn’t tell me why she wanted you off the project for a reason, and while it seems that we’ve got the whole thing figured out, we don’t know for definite. Let your sister come to me if she wants to discuss the matter, okay?”

Apple Bloom folded her forelegs in front of her huffily.

“Fine.” She harumphed.

“Right then. This has been a disappointing day, but I’m sure that this is only the first of many setbacks on the road ahead. If we can keep it together to weather this, then I’m sure we can weather all of them. For tomorrow, cook up some plausible friendship activities for me. We’ll see if we can integrate them into the three’s rehabilitation. Thank you all. Dismissed.”

The creatures nodded dejectedly, and slowly filed out of the room.

Trixie stretched out in her hammock and yawned deeply. Her horn glowed a pale pink and the novel that was floating in front of her face turned a page. It was a story about a crime solving magician with a penchant for seducing glamourous assistants. It was called ‘Rabbit in a Hat’ and it was good stuff. Just the type of thing to snuggle up in bed with a cup of chamomile while the wind howled around your tiny home, while the first pitter-patter of rain began to beat against your roof.

The first day as acting headmare had gone easily enough. Honestly, Trixie didn’t know what her friend was complaining about. All you had to do was delegate, easy-peasy. True, she may have skim read some of the instructions that Starlight had provided her with, but she got the gist of things. As long as the building wasn’t on fire at the end of the day, Trixie would call that a great and powerful win.

As the rain began to grow in intensity and just as the Unicorn’s eyelids were beginning to get heavy, there was a knock at her door. Trixie rolled her eyes. She gave herself thirty seconds or so before she slowly closed her book. Her face contorted into a moue of dissatisfaction. She briefly considered the possibility of pretending to be asleep, but realized that curiosity would not allow her to ignore her visitor.

She kicked herself out of her bed in irritation and plodded to her door. She opened it a crack, and spied the pink and purple outline of Starlight.

“You again?” She said in mock annoyance, despite a grin crawling its way onto her face. She closed her door again to remove the chain from the lock. “Checking up on me, are you? Well, the first day of acting headmare went swimmingly, so there’s no need to-”

She opened the door fully and cut herself off as she took in her friend’s appearance properly for the first time. She was looking disheveled, meek, not like the Starlight she knew at all. She was looking away, somewhere at the ground, one of her forelegs clutching the other. Worse still, her face was red and puffy, and there was a sheen of tears coating her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Trixie asked quickly, concern creeping into her voice. Her air of cocky superiority dropped immediately.

“H-hey, Trixie,” Starlight croaked. “It’s been a really rough day, and I was hoping...hoping...”

That was as far as the lilac Unicorn got before she broke down into sobs. Trixie stood frozen for one horrible moment before she dashed down the steps to her caravan and threw her forelegs around her friend.

“What happened?” She whispered into Starlight’s ear. “Are you okay?”

Starlight looked into her friend’s eyes for a moment. They were wide pools of purple that were framed by a face that was contorted with concern. Starlight didn’t reply, she just hugged Trixie close and continued to cry, her head resting on the blue Unicorn’s shoulder.

“Shh, it’s ok. It’s ok.” Trixie soothed. “Come on, come inside. Tell me everything that happened.”

Somewhere in Starlight’s mind, even amid all the stress and upset, she marveled at Trixie’s ability to become the perfect listener when it really mattered. Even her smug third-pony self-references had temporarily ceased. She supposed it was what made her such a good counselor.

The pair awkwardly made their way up Trixie’s steps still hugging, Starlight still blubbing, and Trixie hoofed the door closed behind them.

“Okay, you just wait here for two seconds -” Trixie said softly, gently prising herself out of Starlight’s grip. Starlight allowed her to do so, and once she was free Trixie darted to the back of the caravan and began to rummage around in the area under her hammock. At length she produced two worn looking bean chairs, and tossed them haphazardly on the floor.

“Here, you take a seat,” she said kindly, “and I’ll put the kettle on.”

Starlight nodded feebly and ran her nose over the back of her blazer sleeve. She clumsily flopped into one of the beanbags while Trixie hastily pottered about in what could laughably be described as the ‘kitchen’. After a few minutes, during which Starlight attempted to get her emotions under control and cease her sniffling, Trixie returned with two mugs of tea. She floated one to Starlight, who gratefully accepted it in her own magic, before sinking into her own chair. The blue Unicorn gave her friend a few moments to sip her chamomile and gather her thoughts before she spoke.

“What happened?” she said gently.

Starlight was silent for a few moments as she stared into her mug of cloudy yellow liquid.

“I, um... I took an action plan to Twilight. You know, about that thing we spoke about last night?”

“Hm hm.”

“And, er...well, she didn’t much like it.” Starlight smiled a sad smile. “To tell you the truth she tore it apart.”

While Starlight was staring into her tea, Trixie took the opportunity to scowl and shake her head slightly. Twilight Sparkle. She might’ve known.

“I see. What did she say?”

Starlight blinked several times as fresh tears coated her eyes.

“She...she said...” She trailed off as sobs shook her body. Trixie extended a foreleg and lightly placed a hoof on her friend’s shoulder.

Starlight took several deep breaths before continuing.

“She said that my security measures were too much. She said I was trying to reprogram them, not rehabilitate them. She said...”

More tears. This time they rolled down her cheeks. Trixie began to feel anger bubbling up in her chest. Twilight trotting Sparkle.

“She said that parts of it were like torture for them.”

At this Trixie’s mouth hung open.

“T-torture?” She stammered. “What was it she said that about?”

“I had a part where I said that they shouldn’t be left alone. Ever. Except for maybe when they’re asleep.”

“Right.” Trixie replied, furrowing her brow. “And the torture part?”

Starlight looked up.

“That’s it. They wouldn’t be able to relax, to be alone with their own thoughts, to-”

“Plot the downfall of everything and everypony we hold dear?” Trixie cut in.

Starlight fell silent once again for a few moments.

“She’s right though. They’d never listen to friendship lessons if they couldn’t have at least some downtime.”

“And of course, dumping them in Tartarus or encasing them in stone is perfectly ethical.” Trixie muttered.

Starlight snorted, then instantly regretted it and sniffed loudly. Trixie rummaged around in a nearby box and produced a small box of tissues. Starlight effusively took one and blew her nose into it, producing a noise not unlike a plate of beans being sucked up a vacuum cleaner.

“There was a contingency plan I had too,” Starlight continued. “Something that we could have used to turn them back into stone quickly if we had to. Twilight hated that.”

“It sounds like a sensible idea.” Trixie replied sardonically. “Of course she did.”

Starlight sniffled as yet again she began to break down.

“She said that...we’d never get anywhere with them if they had that kind of threat dangling over them. The whole thing left me feeling like I was the monster.”

Starlight hastily placed her tea on the floor of the caravan and buried her face in her hooves. Trixie too put her drink down and snorted in frustration before lifting herself up and placing herself back down on Starlight’s bean bag. She threw her forelegs around her friend, and Starlight found herself with her face engulfed in the soft blue fur of Trixie’s chest. The headmare slowly withdrew her hooves from her face. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was so upset, this would be nice.

“You listen to me, Starlight.” Trixie said softly but sternly. “You are not a monster. You’re my best friend and the headmare of the school of friendship. The plan you wrote was you trying to protect everypony.”

“Was it?” Starlight gave a muffled reply. “Maybe I wanted control. Maybe I haven’t changed since I was the leader of that village-”

“You know that isn’t true.” Trixie almost snapped, cutting her off. “You’ve come so far since then. You tried to offer Chrysalis an out back when we all went to the hive, remember? Would a monster do that?”

Starlight remained silent for a few moments, frozen in Trixie’s embrace.

“I don’t know...” She mumbled.

“Yes you do.” Trixie smiled. “You’re no monster. And Twilight Sparkle should be ashamed for making you feel this way.”

“Oh Trixie...” Starlight cried. “I... I destroyed my blackboard!”

Trixie looked incredulously at the top of her friend’s head as Starlight convulsed into sobs once more.

“You...destroyed your blackboard?”

“I... crushed it with my magic!” The Unicorn wept. “Right in front of everypony! My poor blackboard! It didn’t deserve that!”

“Shh, shh. It’s ok. You were upset. It’s just a blackboard. We’ll get you a new one. A better one. I promise.”

‘And I know exactly who’s going to pay for it.’ Trixie thought to herself silently. The very next chance she got she was going to have words with that irksome Alicorn.

“Trixie...” Starlight said softly. “Is...is there any chance I could stay here tonight, please? I can sleep here on the bean bags.”

Trixie was taken aback for a second. It was strange seeing Starlight so vulnerable. She was usually the one who was cool headed, the voice of reason. Except for when she got angry, that was. The blue Unicorn smiled down at her friend.

“Of course you can.” She spoke. “But not on the bean bags. You take the hammock; I’ll take the bags.”

“No, no, Trixie, I can’t barge you out of your own bed-” Starlight said, looking up at her friend.

“It’s fine,” Trixie smiled, cutting her off. She looked into Starlight’s face, the first time she’d seen it since they started hugging on the bag. It was tear-steaked and snotty, but still, her shining eyes were enough to make her breath catch in her throat.

“Ah...” Trixie stumbled, disguising her hesitation with a tiny cough. “I insist. You need a proper bed for tonight, after the day you’ve just had.”

Starlight sighed deeply, realizing that it was useless to argue.

“Thank you, Trixie.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Trixie released Starlight and the pair awkwardly scrabbled out of the chairs. Starlight clambered into the hammock, and Trixie retrieved her tea for her.

“You should finish this. It’ll help you sleep.” She said, passing the mug to Starlight.

“Thank you.” The lilac Unicorn replied, accepting the tea and draining it. “You, um...you’re my best friend too. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Trixie hid her blush by arranging the beanbags on the floor into a makeshift mattress.

“Anytime, Starlight. Good night.”

“Good night.”

9. Sweet Release

Scootaloo whizzed through the blackness with a strangely echoless ‘Woohoo!’ as she executed a perfect loop de loop followed by a flawless barrel roll. Her powerful wings beat against her sides as she continued to fly.

“Scootaloo!” Starlight shouted from somewhere far below. The orange Pegasus was little more than a dot in the not exactly sky from where the Unicorn stood. “Come down! We’re supposed to be waiting for the princess!”

Apple Bloom approached the headmare and lightly placed a hoof to her withers.

“Shh,” She said gently, in between licks of her ginormous yet seemingly strangely weightless ice-cream cone. “Let her have this. It’s not very often she gets to fly.”

Starlight gently jabbed at the space between her eyes as she scrunched her face up and sighed deeply.

“We’re supposed to be presenting an organized, united front to present this final draft to Twilight.” She moaned. “I’d prefer it if she could see us being just a tiny bit professional before she shows up and tears it to shreds.”

“She won’t,” Apple Bloom replied kindly. “You - we all – have worked hard at this. She’ll see that.”

Starlight smiled warily in her direction as the Earth Pony continued to attack the ice-cream. Despite Apple Bloom’s best efforts, it didn’t seem to be diminishing in size.

They were standing in a featureless void, similar to the one that the headmare had found herself in when Twilight had invaded her dreamscape. The whole experience had given Starlight much food for thought, one of which had been the notion that while she may not be able to traverse the dream realm, any exceptionally magically gifted idiot could link sleeping minds together. Hopefully it would save some time once Twilight arrived, and it also gave them a chance to go over any last-minute preparations they might have.

In theory.

The problem was that many Ponies seldom encountered the lucid dream experience, and Starlight’s team was no exception. When presented with carte blanche to do literally anything, it had a tendency to lead to...well, this.

Scootaloo’s joyous cries drifted down from somewhere in the overhead distance as she continued to effortlessly execute an old Wonderbolts routine.

“Where’s Spike?” Starlight asked, dreading the answer.

“Right here.” The Dragon replied, as he sauntered over, dressed in a pristine tuxedo and a pair of mirrored sunglasses.

The Unicorn emitted another groan.

“What?” Spike said, vexed. “I thought I looked pretty good.”

“Very sharp.” Apple Bloom grinned.

“It’s not a question of how you look!” Starlight whined. “We’re supposed to be presenting an action plan to the princess, not mucking about!”

“There’s no reason we can’t do both,” Spike intoned. “Relax Starlight. We made the changes that Twilight asked for, the plan is solid, she’ll give us the go ahead.

Starlight rubbed at her eyes in frustration before nodding.

“Where’s Sweetie Belle?” She asked.

“Over there looking at refrigerators.” Apple Bloom pointed a hoof over the headmare’s shoulder. Starlight wheeled around in the direction of Apple Bloom’s leg and beheld the white Unicorn, wandering between two rows of mini-fridges. She idly opened the door on one of them and nodded approvingly at what she saw inside.

“For crying out loud...” Starlight grumbled.

The headmare squeezed her eyes shut and clutched the base of her horn. She briefly allowed her mind to drift to Trixie, and she found that her current frustrations melted away somewhat. That was, at least, until she felt a jab of guilt in her chest over how she’d left her friend that morning. When she’d awoke the blue Unicorn had still been asleep, splayed and drooling over her twin bean chairs. Starlight smiled at the memory, in spite of the contrite feeling in her chest. She had quietly stepped over her sleeping friend and silently exited the caravan. Looking back, she wondered if she should have left a note, something, just to say how thankful she was to Trixie for just being there for her when she needed her the most. Would it be weird if she visited the caravan for a third time in as many days? Celestia, why not just show up with half a dozen roses, a box of chocolates and a mariachi band? Having said that, they were friends, weren’t they? Friends spent time together, didn’t they? That was something that they didn’t seem to get to do all that much these days. Yes, that was the answer. Visit Trixie again, and hide behind the excuse that they aren’t able to spend as much time together as they used to. It’s totally not because she wanted to sleep in the blue Unicorn’s bed once more, but this time with her in it too.

Starlight buried her face in her hooves, hiding her reddening face in a faux display of frustration.

“Hello?” a regal voice called out in the darkness.

Starlight frantically gestured for the others to stop what they were doing and just, be normal, for Celestia’s sake!

“Twilight!” The Unicorn beamed falsely. “Please, come in.”

Starlight gestured to an empty area of darkness nearby where at her will a circular table and six chairs faded into existence. One of the chairs had a higher backrest, and bore a facsimile of Twilight’s cutie mark.

The Princess emerged from the void with an incredulous expression on her face.

“Starlight?” She asked questioningly. “I don’t remember teaching you how to dream-link?”

The headmare gave the Princess a slight eye-roll to go with her smile.

“Well, you know, I might not be able to access the dream realm, but several creatures sleeping in close proximity, I figured, how hard could it be? To link their minds, I mean.”

“Well, I’m impressed.” Twilight said, walking over to the table. She lightly ran a hoof over the polished surface, at length her gaze landing on the chairs.

“Well, I guess this one’s mine.”

Twilight magically eased the wooden chair out from the table and sat down. Starlight gestured for Applebloom and Spike to do likewise.

“Excuse me while I round up the rest of my team,” Starlight said quickly. Her smile remained fixed in place, but her eye twitched involuntarily.

After a few minutes of Starlight teleporting around the dreamscape and wrangling the remainder of her staff, all of the creatures were seated around the table. Twilight couldn’t help but smile to herself about their respective ‘dream selves’.

“Okay!” Starlight began, attempting, perhaps too hard, to stay positive after the unprofessional antics on display. “We’ve reworked the plan according to your feedback the other day-”

“New and improved.” Spike muttered. Both Starlight and Twilight threw the Dragon a sideways glance but neither passed comment.

“-and hopefully we now have something workable that you’ll be happy to sign off on.”

The Princess nodded approvingly.

Over the course of the next hour or so, Starlight outlined the plan to her mentor. Though it was precisely as she’d planned it with her team, it felt as though she was outlining it to herself as much as anypony else. She still couldn’t quite believe that she was heading into this project with one hoof tied behind her back, but, as Twilight wanted it, so shall it be done. That wasn’t to say the Princess’ words hadn’t made some sense to her; she supposed that she was still just a little bit raw about the whole thing. If she didn’t get the go-ahead now, she honestly didn’t know what she’d do.

The plan itself was pretty much the same, just with the pieces that Twilight took issue with removed; which, now that she dwelled on it, was another reason for her to be nervous; this wasn’t a plan, it was a skeleton. To make up for the fact that there didn’t seem to be much substance to what they were proposing, Starlight went into detail about some of the activities and friendship building exercises they’d be attempting to forge bonds with the three with, and by extension, get them to forge bonds too.

Specifically, it would be music lessons and culture studies with Sweetie Belle, nature studies and potions with Apple Bloom, while Scootaloo took sports. Spike, as ever, would be helping out wherever needed, as well as taking notes for Twilight’s benefit. Starlight would then be given a summary of their progress on a daily basis, and would adapt her counselling sessions accordingly.

Twilight for the most part simply listened, nodded and asked the odd pertinent question. After Starlight had finished her summary, and if the truth be told, rambled for a good deal longer than necessary out of fear of the Princess’ response, Twilight finally offered her verdict.

“It’s a good plan.”

“Yes?” Starlight stammered. “It is? It is!”

“It is.” Twilight smiled. “I’m still not totally sold on the idea of splitting them up-”

Starlight could see a Dragon rolling his eyes like he was suffering a particularly extreme demonic possession at those words out of the corner of her eye, but thankfully it seemed that it went unnoticed by her mentor.

“-but I can see the need for safety and security. Have you decided on who the first subject will be?”

“Yes, yes we have,” Starlight struggled to regain her composure. “Cozy Glow.”

“Cozy Glow?” Twilight raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” Starlight continued. “Our thinking was that we would work from least to most dangerous. That puts Cozy up first. No magic, no powers. Hopefully she’ll be an easy starting point.”

Spike and the Crusaders nodded along in agreement, while the Princess kept her eyebrow aloft.

“Mmm,” she murmured thoughtfully. “She’s not as harmless as you might think, you know.”

“We’re all well aware of how dangerous she is, Twilight,” Spike piped up, a stern edge to his voice. “It’s just that she isn’t as dangerous as the other two.”

Twilight looked in the Dragon’s direction, choosing her next words carefully.

“I’m just saying, she’s probably the best of the three at ‘faking it’,” The Princess made air quotes with her hooves. “In all likelihood, she’ll play along with your teachings and tell you exactly what you want to hear. You’re going to have to be exceptionally careful to make sure you’re actually getting through to her.”

“All the more reason to start with her, then.” Starlight interjected. “If we can crack her then we can crack any of them.”

Twilight frowned at her protégé’s wording, but allowed the moment to pass.

“Besides,” Starlight continued, “I’ll take common psychopathy over devouring magic or the ability to look like anycreature.”

Twilight looked at the faces around the table. They all met her gaze evenly, an edge of determination in their eyes.

“Fine,” she sighed. “If you’re all sure.”

Starlight looked to her team briefly before answering.

“We are.” She said firmly.

“Good.” Twilight smiled. “The plan is solid, and I’m happy to sign off on it.”

Starlight silently breathed a sigh of relief.

“I have some literature that I think will come in handy,” Twilight mused, placing a hoof to her chin.

“I’m sure you do.” Starlight remarked dryly.

“I’ll drop it off tomorrow. I’m thinking that, since we’re releasing them one at a time, we should re-home the other two here for the duration. Somewhere out of the way, out of sight, and secure. I’m open to suggestions.”

The other creatures looked blankly at each other for a few seconds.

“There’s some caverns under the school?” Scootaloo offered. “Behind the big waterfall.”

“Too close to the school.” Twilight shook her head. “The last thing we need is some student stumbling across them.”

Silence returned to the table as five Ponies and a Dragon wracked their brains.

“The Everfree forest maybe?” Spike ventured.

“Too dangerous.” Starlight grumbled. “Celestia only knows what’s roaming around in there. We wouldn’t be able to guarantee their safety while they’re frozen or ours when we have to go retrieve them.”

“I’ve got it!” Apple Bloom exclaimed excitedly. “The Tree of Harmony!”

The other creatures looked at each other.

“That could work...” Starlight said thoughtfully.

“Hold on, isn’t there a risk that students will find them there too?” Twilight asked, concern furrowing her brow. “The tree must be visited by students all the time!”

“Ah, not as much as you might think,” Apple Bloom responded, her mouth pulled back in an awkward smile. “The pukwudgies keep a lot of ‘em away. Plus, a lot a’them aren’t all that interested in history.”

“Oh.” Twilight replied, a twinge of disappointment in her voice.

“I’ll send a memo making it out of bounds,” Starlight dismissed with a wave of her hoof, swiftly moving the conversation on. “We’ll say it’s for repairs or something. It’s perfect!”

“Do we need to worry about Cozy Glow being recognized?” Sweetie Belle questioned. “If we’re going to be doing friendship activities with her in and around campus, we’re not going to be able to keep her from running into other students completely.”

Starlight shook her head.

“I don’t think that that will be too much of a problem, at least not with Cozy Glow.” she mused. “Like Apple Bloom says, the majority of the students aren’t that well up on their history. As long as we’re careful and don’t let her run her mouth too much, we should be fine. If we have to, we’ll say she’s her own long-lost niece or something.”

“And if she is recognized?” Twilight raised an eyebrow.

“Then we contain the rumours.” Starlight said gravely. “A quiet, polite word with yours truly should be enough to stifle any Ponies who want to blab about the project before we’re ready.”

Twilight sighed lightly.

“Fine. Though I’ll have to think of something for the other two, but I suppose we can cross that bridge when we get to it.”

There was a pointed pause.

“So, when do we start?” Sweetie Belle asked tentatively.

“Tomorrow.” Twilight replied.

The early morning sun had just begun to peek over the horizon, its warm rays refracting through the Crystal Treehouse, creating numerous tiny rainbows on the patchy grass around the Ponies.

The treehouse was situated in the ruins of the Castle of the Two Sisters, and as such was surrounded by the remains of stone archways and random blocks of masonry that had fallen over the years. There was a fine coating of dew over everything, making the grass, trees and brickwork glint and glisten almost as much as the treehouse itself. The crystal blossom that protruded from the top of the tree cast a pink glow around the surrounding area as the early light passed through it.

Starlight paced nervously out from under the pink shade and tapped the excess water off her sodden hooves against a convenient nearby slab.

“Where is she?” She asked to nopony in particular. “The sun’s up, so she must be.”

“I’m sure she’s on her way,” Spike sighed from the archway he was slouched against. “Don’t panic.”

“I’m not panicking.” Starlight almost snapped. “I just don’t like being kept waiting.”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders exchanged troubled glances from their vantage point under the blossom before Apple Bloom stepped forward.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, in much the same way she had the previous night. “Twilight’s probably jus’ doin’ some last-minute checks an’ stuff. Maybe she’s lookin’ for that book she mentioned. Y’know how she is.”

Starlight turned on her hooves and managed to shoot the Crusader a strained smile.

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Yeah, I do. Sorry everycreature. I’m just a little nervous.”

“It’s okay.” Apple Bloom assured.

“We all are.” Sweetie Belle added.

Starlight nodded, and turned her attention back to her pacing. One, two minutes passed, before there was a familiar roar of magical energy, and with a bright flash, Twilight Sparkle appeared looking slightly dishevelled and with the colossal grey statue of the three behind her.

Her mane was unbrushed and her eyes were narrowed and twitchy, betraying her lack of sleep. On her back she wore her saddlebags bearing her cutie mark, but her crown and usual regalia were curiously absent.

“Sorry, sorry,” She blustered. “I got held up. I had to make a few excuses to get away unnoticed. It wasn’t easy. And then there was these three...”

She gestured to the petrified forms behind her.

“It’s fine.” Starlight assured. “We haven’t been waiting too long anyway.”

The headmare pointedly ignored the sly smiles that were being fired her way by her team.

Starlight held a hoof up to Spike and Crusaders, gesturing for them to hang back for a moment. She got some curious looks in return, especially from the Dragon. Undeterred, Starlight strode over to the Princess.

“Twilight,” She spoke in a voice just above a whisper, so that the others couldn’t hear. “Have you been up all night?”

“What?” Twilight said with faint outrage. “No! Well, not completely. Most of the night. I got a few hours in. Well, a couple. Well, one.”

Starlight rolled her eyes.

“Twilight!” She chastised. “You need more than that!”

“Has Spike been talking to you?” The Princess raised an eyebrow. “I’m fine. I’m alert, I’m raring to go. What’s the problem?”

“Twilight, I say this as a friend, and I mean no offence, but you look like death.” The headmare said bluntly. “Is this really what you want Cozy to see when you first free her?”

Twilight’s eyes widened slightly.

“I hadn’t thought of that.” She whispered, an edge of fear to her voice.

“Hm, first impressions are everything,” Starlight nodded. “Tell me you at least brought your crown.”

“My... I... Yes!” Twilight floundered before rummaging around in her bag. “I know it’s in here somewhere, I... Yes, here we go.”

She retrieved the shining tiara-style crown from her bag and plonked it unceremoniously on her head. She beamed unconvincingly at the Unicorn who in turn reached up and straightened it for her.

“Now if you’ve got a mane brush in there too, we’ll be in business.”

As it turned out, Twilight, somewhat predictably, did not have a mane brush to hoof, but luckily Sweetie Belle had the Princess covered. After a hasty spruce-up, assisted by Starlight, Twilight looked ready to proceed.

“Of course, if they are aware of their surroundings then it’s all moot,” Starlight grumbled, as she used her magic to straighten the Princess’ crown. Twilight frowned in her direction before waving her magic away irritably.

“Never mind all that.” She said curtly. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Starlight nodded, grimacing ever so slightly at the tight knot of fear that she felt in her stomach. She mentally repeated to herself that it was just Cozy Glow they were freeing, a mere foal. A mere foal against whom they held all the cards. They knew of her deceptive, manipulative nature, and they knew how to defend against it. She should be the one to be afraid, not them.

So why hadn’t Starlight’s body got the memo?

She looked over the faces of Spike and the Crusaders briefly, gauging their expressions. Though she felt slightly guilty, she felt considerable relief at the fact that they looked just as uncomfortable as she felt. She flipped her attention to Twilight. If the Princess was nervous, she was hiding it well; her face simply bore a determined frown.

Twilight wheeled around and faced the petrified villains. As her horn crackled with magical energy, Starlight beckoned the others closer with a hoof. The Crusaders approached quietly and cautiously, while spike pushed himself of his archway with an audible grunt and grumpily made his way over.

The five creatures watched with a mixture of awe and alarm as the magic of the Princess’ horn formed a beam which, comparatively slowly, stretched out towards the statue until it collided with the frozen, terror-struck face of Cozy Glow. From there, the grey of the stone around her face began to fade away, replaced by the soft peachy pink of the filly’s coat. A few more seconds and it began to stretch down her body, the grainy texture of the rock being replaced with fur. A few more seconds, and her cutie mark became visible once again. Horrifyingly, for the creatures present, this regenerative effect did not stop with the foal, as the colour of a small portion of Tirek’s back and the tip of Chrysalis’ wing also began to return to normal.

“Uh, Twilight?” Starlight whispered with concern. “You’re, uh, kinda hitting the other two there as well...”

“I know,” the Princess said through gritted teeth. “This isn’t easy when they’re stuck so close together. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

Just as it looked as though the magic might spread to the other two members of the trio, Twilight cut the beam with a jerk of her head. For a second, the now alive Cozy Glow hung in mid-air before her eyes blinked, her forelegs fell limply to her sides and she succumbed to gravity. Twilight attempted to grab the filly in her magic before she could hit the floor, but Starlight was faster. Cozy barely fell a foot before she was engulfed in the headmare’s turquoise aura and gently placed on the grass in front of herself and the Princess. The filly slumped to the floor in a limp pile while she blinked rapidly, her expression one of complete shock. After a few moments she struggled to raise her head, and at length managed to roll onto her haunches. She raised a shaky foreleg and shielded her eyes from the sun.

Slowly, Twilight and the others advanced towards the foal, their hooves (and in Spike’s case, claws) lightly tapping on the stony ground. The sound alerted Cozy Glow to their presence, and hoof still raised, she glared in their direction. She stared for a few seconds, her eyes becoming used to the idea of being functional once again for the first time in years.

“Sparkle,” she grimaced in her sweet voice that belied her character. “How nice.”

Her eyes shifted to Starlight.

“Oh, and Glimmer too. To what do I owe this dubious pleasure?”

“Cozy Glow,” Twilight stated as gently as she could under the circumstances. “Your time being frozen in stone is over.”

The Princess took a measured breath to continue, but Cozy Glow spoke before she could do so.

“Oh, I see. So what it is now then? Exile? Back to Tartarus? Oh, I know!” She clapped her hooves together. “Why not just execute me and have done with it?”

At this, Spike snorted a near silent chuckle through his nose. Starlight shot him a warning glance.

“Nothing like that,” Twilight continued sternly. Then her voice softened and her eyes dropped to the ground. “There were...grave mistakes that were made when you were apprehended the first time around. For that I am truly sorry. Now is the time to correct them.”

Twilight again met Cozy’s gaze. The foal wasn’t even trying to hide her scowl and naked hatred as her eyes bore into the Alicorn.

“You will be taken into Starlight’s care, and given a full education on the true meaning of friendship. During that time the school will be your new home.”

“I see.” Cozy hissed. “For how long?”

“However long it takes.”

There was a pause. None of the assembled creatures dared breathe, anxiously awaiting the Pegasus’ response. The wind blew some tiny dry leaves in minute circles across the ground.

“And if I refuse?” She replied finally.

“That has not been considered.” Twilight said thoughtfully. “I would strongly advise you not to though. Whatever the alternative is, it is sure to be far less pleasant than what I’m offering to you right now.”

Cozy’s shining pink eyes narrowed, signalling her understanding, before they drifted over the Spike and the Crusaders.

“And I suppose that this is my own personal reformation team?” She smiled an evil smile. “Well, golly gee. Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

“You’ve already met.” Twilight replied bluntly.

Only then did the scowl and the air of confidence falter for a moment, replaced by a look of confusion. Cozy took a second look at Dragon and the trio of Ponies, this time her gaze lingering on their faces. Her eyes widened as the spark of recognition flashed in them. Her head snapped back to Twilight.

“How...” She started, swallowing back her rage, “How long was I...?”

She trailed off, her eyes betraying a sheen of tears.

“Ten years.” Twilight replied grimly.

Cozy nodded, her face twisted into a grimace of unadulterated fury. She hung her head low, momentarily hiding her face from the creatures present. Starlight and Twilight took the opportunity to exchange anxious glances.

The Princess was about to step forward, perhaps to attempt to say a comforting word or two. Whether that was the case or not would never be known, for it was at that very moment that Cozy’s head snapped back up, a smile fixed on her face, and all previous hints of anger and despair seemingly gone. It was such a stark transformation that Twilight almost took an involuntary step back. Mercifully, she managed to steel herself and hold her ground.

Cozy’s head turned slowly, almost robotically back towards the Crusaders and Spike, her smile not flickering for an instant.

“Well, where are my manners?” She drawled sweetly. “Cutie Mark Crusaders, so good to see you again. Been locked in any good closets lately?”

The Crusaders shifted uncomfortably, none of them speaking. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle avoided the Pegasus’ eyes, while Scootaloo forced herself to look directly at her addresser, her expression one of annoyance. As quickly as Cozy Glow had turned her attention on them, she shifted it to the Dragon.

“And Spike too,” She grinned. “Still the Ponies lap-dog, I see. Golly, how you’ve grown.”

“You haven’t.” Spike shot back, over the top of folded arms.

Cozy’s smile widened at the jibe.

“Well, what can I say?” she cooed. “Say what you like about being trapped in stone for a decade, but it does wonders for the complexion.”

The filly paused for moment and nonchalantly examined a hoof.

“Not so great for the psyche, self-esteem or inclination to learn about friendship, but I suppose you can’t have everything, can you?”

Cozy emphasized the word ‘friendship’ in the most patronizing way possible, her eyes flitting to Twilight as she did do. The Princess was surprised to feel a pang of anger rise in her chest at this miniscule gesture.

“Cozy, I’m going to need an answer.” The Princess said with strained patience, just managing to keep her emotions in check. “Do you accept the terms I’ve described, or do we need to come up with a contingency plan?

“It’s not much of a choice, and you know it.” Cozy snapped, her smile finally disappearing and the hatred bubbling back to the surface.

There was a long silence, during which Cozy Glow continued to stare daggers right at the Princess.

“I accept your terms, Sparkle.” The foal finally growled.

“Good,” Twilight nodded. “We’ll use the rest of today to get you acclimatized to your new home, and then we’ll get you started on your lessons tomorrow.”

Cozy merely glared at the Princess by way of a reply.

“You won’t be seeing me much while you’re under Starlight’s care, as I have duties to attend to, but I’ll be watching.” The Princess continued.

“Well, colour me devastated.” The Pegasus sneered.

“Good luck, Cozy Glow.”

The return to the School of Friendship was a somber one. Cozy Glow walked a ways ahead of Starlight and Twilight, flanked on all sides by Spike and the Crusaders. The sun had crept higher into the sky, drying up the morning dew and bathing Equestria in its warm rays. The birds sang their merry song in the blue sky, the flowers shone their colours brightly, and all seemed right with the world.

‘Seemed’ being the operative word.

“What do you think?” Starlight said quietly out of the side of her mouth, her eyes glued to the back of Cozy’s head.

“I think that that went about as well as could be expected,” Twilight responded in a similar fashion. “It doesn’t take a psychology expert to see that she absolutely hates me, and she’s not too keen on you either. I think you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Starlight remained silent for a few paces.

“If she had turned down your offer, what would you have done?”

“I have no idea,” Twilight sighed, breaking her stare and allowing her eyes to drop to the dusty path. “This whole plan is about giving them a shot at redemption, but it’s also about finally eradicating a stain that has remained on my reign as Princess from the very beginning.”

Now it was Starlight’s turn to break her gaze. She looked up at her mentor, and took in her contrite expression. The headmare ran a hoof through her own mane thoughtfully.

“I’m sorry about the other day.” She said, staring at the ground.

“Hm?” Twilight grunted, returning her eyes to the foal walking ahead of them.

“I know it wasn’t you that turned them to stone. I shouldn’t have said that. I was upset.”

“It might as well have been,” Twilight shrugged. “As far as they’re concerned, to all intents and purposes, it was me. I’ve held the keys to their prison for the last ten years.”

After a few more steps, the Princess continued.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. I understand.”

Starlight nodded. She felt as though there was something she wanted to add; to apologize more, somehow, but Twilight had dismissed her insecurities and that seemed to be the end of it. Why then, did she feel like it wasn’t? That she hadn’t properly atoned for her behaviour the other day? She frowned at her shadow on the uneven path.

“Will you take a look at Cozy’s living space when we’re back at the school?” The headmare asked, more to fill in the silence than anything else. “Make sure it’s all up to code?”

“No,” Twilight shook her head. “I’ll walk back to the school with you, but after that I think it would be best if I disappeared. Based on Cozy’s reaction, I think I’m a detriment to what we’re trying to achieve. The more I’m around, the farther she’ll be pushed away.”

Starlight hummed a neutral response.

“Don’t worry,” Twilight smiled. “I’ll be back in a flash if you need me to be. Just tell Spike to come find me. You’ve seen his new toy?”

“Huh?” The Unicorn uttered, momentarily confused. “Oh, oh, the EEA medallion. Yeah, I’ve seen it. I’m sure it’ll come in handy.”

“EEA medallion?” The Princess smirked. “Is that what he told you it was?”

Starlight threw a bewildered look the Alicorn’s way. Twilight’s soft giggle floated through the warm morning air.

Spike pushed the door open and waited for Cozy Glow to step inside. The room was clean and welcoming, if a little drab and boring. The Dragon noticed with some amount of ire that it was not that dissimilar from his own room back at the palace.

There was a generously sized four poster bed with floral bedsheets, a pine bedside table with a chrome lamp, a writing desk shoved against the wall, and a matching pine wardrobe. Not that Cozy would be likely to put anything in it of course, the Dragon idly mused.

“Your room,” he said unnecessarily. “Bathroom’s down the hall, first door on the left.”

Cozy Glow didn’t reply, merely stepping into the room, slowly running the frogs of her hooves over the luxurious pale blue carpet. Spike looked down his snout at the foal, in every sense of the phrase. He couldn’t say he was too disappointed that she wasn’t feeling too talkative; he was in no mood for any more of her barbs.

“The school layout hasn’t changed much since you were last here,” He monotoned, anxious to get away. “If you want to go to the library or anything like that.”

Cozy turned and snorted a laugh in Spike’s direction.

“So, this will be my cell, huh?” She said, turning her attention to the windows that noticeably had foal proof chains attached to them to prevent them from being opened too far. “Oh well. I guess it beats wherever Sparkle’s had me stashed for the last ten years.”

“It’s not a cell,” Spike bristled. “Like I said, you can go to the library, or anywhere else in the school, just as long as you don’t interfere with any lessons.”

“Sure it’s not,” the Pegasus replied, her eyes fixed on the windows. “You, Sparkle and Glimmer might be kidding yourselves, but don’t for one second think you can kid me.”

Spike snorted angrily, a tiny lick of green flame momentarily exiting his nostrils.

“You’ve seen the inside of a real cell, as I recall.” He growled. “I’m sure if this isn’t to your liking we could arrange for you go back there.”

Cozy wheeled around, a wide grin plastered on her face.

“Ooooo!” She exclaimed with her own brand of saccharine sweetness. “Is that where we are already? Threats? On day one? I’m sure Sparkle will be thrilled to hear that.”

“Princess Twilight would forgive me.” Spike said, folding his arms. “Just like she’ll forgive you if you lose the attitude and make some effort.”

Cozy Glow scowled, breaking her eye contact with him. Spike allowed his lip to curl in a humourless half smile.

“I’m in the room next door,” he said simply. “Let me know if you need anything.”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, closing the door behind him. He had better things to do that stand around trading insults with a gremlin all day.

Alone in the room, Cozy fluttered up to the window and opened both sides of it as far as they’d go, which was to say, not very. She extended one hoof outside and allowed herself to feel the cool breeze for a few moments. It really was funny, the things you miss.

Not that she could recall much from her time in the stone. Just the vague passage of time. Coming back to the land of the living was a shock, like waking up suddenly and knowing that your alarm clock had failed to ring.

After a few moments she flapped to the bed. Pulling the covers aside she sat in the middle and pulled the duvet around herself. She managed to sit quietly for ten, maybe twenty seconds before the tears came.

It was okay. It was o-kay. She’d gotten through miserable situations like this before, she’d do it again. She was a survivor, and that wasn’t about to change now. Her tears ran down her cheeks and dripped a light drizzle onto the mattress, but she didn’t allow herself to sob. She had to assume that they were listening in on her, maybe even watching too, but she wouldn’t give them that. One of the first rules of being a survivor was never letting them see that they’ve got to you. Just do what you do best, Cozy. Bide your time. Find an angle. Wait for an opportunity. She may be alone, separated from her...well, not friends, exactly, but...associates? Whatever, it didn’t matter. The only creatures who would know how she felt. She may be separated from them, but it didn’t matter. She’d been alone before, and look how much she’d accomplished! How close she came! Sooner or later Glimmer and her cronies would make a mistake, and when they did, she’d be there to exploit it. Until then, play their game, but don’t give them an inch. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was enough for now.

The small foal in the middle of the big bed continued to weep silently.

“Headmare, while I fully respect and understand Starlight’s decision to place you in charge whilst she assists the Princess, I’m afraid that as your vice I’m going to have to insist that you actually complete some of the headmare’s tasks around here.”

Trixie took a swig from her mug of coffee and set it back down on the desk, sans coaster. The Unicorn rolled her eyes and idly swung herself back and forth on her friend’s swivel chair. Across the desk from her, Sunburst paced around in circles on the carpet of Starlight’s office.

“Oh?” Trixie exclaimed. “What tasks are these?”

“Well, there’s lesson plans that need writing, there’s some scheduling issues that need ironing out, I need you to talk to payroll because there’s several staff members that haven’t received their overtime from last month...” Sunburst rattled off.

Trixie sighed and cast her eyes to the ceiling.

“Sunburst,” Trixie said shrewdly, “I hope this isn’t jealousy raising its ugly little green nose.”

“Certainly not.” Sunburst responded irritably. “As I said, I fully understand why Starlight placed you in charge. You’re her best friend, you’re familiar with the ins and outs around here, and with me on vacation and how she had to drop everything to help the Princess with...whatever that is, you were the best choice.”

He paced a few more steps.

“At the time.” He added under his breath. If Trixie heard his last comment, she didn’t rise to the bait.

“Hm.” She tutted. “How was the Crystal Empire, by the way?”

“Fantastic,” Sunburst replied wistfully. “Flurry Heart’s magic is coming on in leaps and bounds. She’ll be a very powerful spellcaster one day.”

“Sounds as though the future of the Empire is in safe hooves.”

“Yes.” The stallion responded, suddenly realizing that he’d been successfully deflected by the Unicorn. “But never mind that right now. The fact remains that these things need to be done. I’ve barely been back two minutes and I already have numerous staff members coming to me, asking if I can ask you to take care of-”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Trixie cut him off dismissively with a wave of her hoof. “I’ll take care of it all. Write schedules, fix the lesson plans, put a hoof up payroll’s flank. I’ll take care of it all. Just get Trixie a ‘to do’ list, will you please?”

She fluttered her eyelashes at her vice-head in what she hoped was a cute gesture. Sunburst rolled his eyes and ceased his pacing.

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll get it to you ASAP.”

“Thank you,” Trixie smiled. “Now, do we have anything special on today’s agenda?”

“Nothing significant.” The Unicorn shrugged. “Starlight and the Princess are here, I just caught them on my way to your office, but I got the impression that they wouldn’t be sticking around for too long, so-”

“The Princess?” Trixie excitedly cut him off yet again. “Twilight’s here?”

“Yes?” Sunburst replied uncertainly. “I just saw them in the lobby. To tell you the truth it was a little strange. They had a foal with them that looked just like...”

He trailed off.

“I suppose I must just be mistaken...” He murmured, his mind clearly elsewhere.

“Hold all my meetings,” Trixie uttered suddenly. “I need to speak to the Princess.”

“Wha...?” Sunburst was shaken from his ponderings. “What meetings? I’m not your secretary!”

“And clear the office.” Trixie continued, darting around the desk and heading for the exit. “I’m going to need some privacy.”

The Unicorn breezed to the office door, and with the application of a dash of magic, through it, leaving Sunburst alone in the room.

“Uh, okay, I guess.” The stallion muttered to himself.

Twilight and Starlight hung around in the lobby of the school, each momentarily lost in their own thoughts. They had not long watched Spike and Cozy disappear up one side of the staircase, and after a brief conversation with the Crusaders, they too had retreated to the ‘treehouse’ to prepare for the coming first day of Cozy’s rehabilitation. The lessons were in session, so the lobby and halls were for the time being quiet, just as they’d planned it.

“Well, that’s that then.” Starlight murmured, breaking the silence.

“Yes, that’s that.” Twilight replied. “I’ll head back to Canterlot and leave you to prepare. I’ll eagerly await Spike’s first report. If you need me, or anything at all, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

“I will.” Starlight said, her eyes still fixed at the top of the stairs. “What will you do now?”

“I’m not sure,” the Alicorn bit her lower lip. “I think I should maybe let our Draconequus friend know what we’re up to here.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Starlight questioned, flitting her gaze to her mentor.

“He’s going to find out sooner or later.” Twilight sighed. “It would be better if it came from us than if he just stumbles across it. He’s much more likely to interfere if he thinks we’ve deliberately left him out.”

“I can deal with him if I have to,” Starlight muttered.

“Yes, well,” Twilight conceded. “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

The silence returned as both mares became lost in their thoughts.

“Oh,” The Princess said suddenly. “Before I forget, here’s that book I dug out for you. It might come in handy.”

The Princess magically lifted a flap on her saddlebag and levitated a worn paperback out. She floated it over to the headmare, who accepted it gratefully. Glancing over the cover, Starlight read the words ‘The Psychopath Test, by Bronco Roanson’.

“Interesting...” The Unicorn murmured.

“It’s an impressive piece of investigative journalism,” Twilight announced enthusiastically. “Did you know that-”

“Twilight Sparkle,” a new voice echoed in the lobby, cutting the Princess off.

The Princess recognized it instantly, and she was slightly surprised at herself at how much she bristled at not being addressed by her proper title. Though she was a Princess she generally thought of herself as being pretty down to earth, and not one who insisted on formalities constantly. Perhaps it was the condescending, slightly mocking tone that was rubbing her the wrong way.

“Trixie!” Twilight responded, forcing a smile onto her face. “How are you? Is the school running smoothly?”

Trixie did not return the smile, forced or otherwise. She was wearing her usual purple starry skirt with a matching suit jacket and purple bow over a white shirt. Her face was stern, and she brushed a whisp of white mane out of her eyes as she approached the mares.

“Princess, a word in private, if you please.” The Unicorn dispensed with the pleasantries.

“Oh. Um, of course.” Twilight stammered, taken aback by the intensity of the request. She glanced to Starlight, hoping for some clue as to what this might be about, but the headmare was too busy eyeballing her friend suspiciously. Seemingly, she too had no idea as to what was going on.

“In the office,” Trixie said simply. She looked to her friend briefly. “Starlight.”

“Trixie,” the Unicorn replied in a low, wary tone.

Trixie pushed open the door to Starlight’s office and strode to the chair behind the desk. Sunburst had, thankfully, taken the hint and made himself scarce. The Princess followed her in and lightly closed the door behind them. Trixie sat, and gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk.

“Please, your highness. Take a seat.”

Twilight did as she was asked, sitting rather stiffly. Based on the blue Unicorn’s tone and body language, if she didn’t know better, she’d say she was in trouble.

“Princess, I’m sure we’re both very busy, so I’ll be blunt. Starlight showed up at my caravan in tears the other night. I think you know why.” Trixie said evenly, idly retrieving a grey orb from the desk drawer and rolling it over her hooves with considerable skill.

Realization washed over Twilight. So that was what this was about. She allowed a reproachful expression to settle on her face.

“Oh.” She said sadly. “I knew she was upset, but I didn’t think...I didn’t mean for...”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Trixie frowned, before pausing. “At least, I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt that you didn’t. However, the fact remains that you did.”

Trixie just about managed to keep the glee off her face. It was so rare that she held the moral high ground, and never before against Twilight Sparkle. She’s witnessed Starlight dole out enough dressing-downs during her time at the school, she’d even been on the receiving end of her fair share of them. She just hoped that the stern, formal words didn’t sound silly coming out of her mouth.

“I just told her that I couldn’t authorize the plan as it was!” Twilight protested. “It was just constructive criticism!”

“So, you didn’t call her a torturer then?” The Unicorn raised an eyebrow.

“I-” Twilight started angrily before she stopped herself. “I may have used that word-” she continued more calmly, “-but you’re taking me completely out of context to suggest I called her a torturer.”

“Hmm.” Trixie tutted. “I didn’t call you in here to debate the semantics of what you may or may not have said. I just wanted to draw your attention to how hurt your meeting left Starlight.”

“I...see...” Twilight responded feebly. Her face crumpled as she stared guiltily at the carpet. She knew Starlight had been upset, but she didn’t think she’d been that upset. Argh, and she’d apologised earlier too, and Twilight hadn’t apologised back! The Princess mashed a hoof into her cheek fretfully.

“Starlight told me the bare bones of this ‘project’ of yours,” Trixie made the air quotes with her hooves, “and I don’t think I need to remind you of how much of a burden you’ve placed on her shoulders, or what a huge favour she’s doing you. I daresay you’d do well to bear that in mind when you’re critiquing her work.”

“I’m...sorry...” Twilight squirmed.

“Trixie isn’t the Pony you should be apologising to.” The Unicorn smiled thinly, continuing to toy with her orb. “Also, you owe her a new blackboard.”

“A...blackboard?” The Princess repeated dumbly. “I don’t understand...why?”

“She destroyed hers in a fit of frustration.”

“O-oh. I see.” Twilight stammered, feeling rather wretched. “I’ll have a new one delivered here as soon as possible.

“Good. Well, I’m sure you’re very busy, as is the Great and Powerful Trixie, so I’ll let you get back to your business.”

“I...uh...yes.” Twilight stumbled. She rose from the chair and turned for the door when a thought stopped her.

“You really care about her, don’t you?” She asked, looking back to the Unicorn.

“Somepony around here has to.” Trixie sneered.

Twilight nodded, suitably abashed. She knew that Trixie was twisting the knife now, but she figured she’d let her have her moment. Besides, she’d just provided some interesting information regarding Starlight’s dilemma. Not that Twilight would actually be able to do anything with that information, but still, it was interesting. Maybe if -

“Trixie will never understand what she sees in you.”

The Unicorn’s words instantly derailed the Princess’ train of thought. She looked at Trixie in wide-eyed shock.

“What?” She cried. “What do you mean by-”

Twilight never got the sentence out, as at that moment a smiling Trixie allowed her orb to fall to the floor, and in the instant before it landed, Twilight recognised it for what it was.

The smoke bomb shattered on the floor with a crack, and instantly the room was filled with inky, grey fumes.

“Ack!” Twilight spluttered. “Trixie, wait!”

She swatted at the air in front of her with her hooves in attempt to dissipate the smoke more quickly.

“What did you mean -” She started, but stopped when the smoke had become thin enough for her to see that the office chair was empty, Trixie nowhere to be seen.

“Hm. She’s getting better at that.” She whispered softly.

She stood in the room for a few moments, organising her thoughts. Did Trixie think that Starlight had...feelings for her? That’s certainly what her words implied. First off, that was ridiculous, but secondly, and more importantly, why would the magician care if she did? Unless...unless Trixie’s animosity towards her was partially fuelled by jealousy. Twilight stroked her chin. This was getting more and more interesting. It was entirely possible that Trixie had a little crush on Starlight too!

And here she was, unable to tell either one of them about her findings because of stupid ethics.

With a sigh, she turned and exited the office. The idea that these two best friend mares were in love with each other but cruelly trapped just out of reach from one another because of misunderstandings and denial was something that would torment her thoughts for some time to come.

Not as much, however, as the sudden realisation when she returned to the palace, that the cyan Unicorn had obviously, obviously, just been hiding under the table.

Author's Note

Sorry it's been a while.

10. Baby Steps

Dear Twilight,

Here is the first of what I’m sure will be many progress reports. Also included is my detailed first-hand account of the incident that occurred in Yakyakistan (please see attached).

Cozy Glow’s first day of friendship studies has been challenging, to say the least. For Starlight, the Crusaders and myself, that is. It seems that at the moment Cozy is determined to disrupt, pervert, and distort everything we’re trying to teach her. There have also been examples of her attempting to sow discord (if you’ll pardon the expression) among the few regular students that she’s come into contact with.

Allow me to summarise the day’s events for you. The portions that I was not present for I’ve recorded verbatim as they were told to me.

Tangerine Dream stared hard at the sheet music in front of her and attempted to focus on the notes that were dotted across the lines. As Professor Sweetie Belle continued to lecture on music theory, the sharps and minors on the page blurred, and the questions that she’d pushed aside once again rose to the forefront of her mind.

Just who was this foal, exactly?

The orange coated pony risked a sideways glance at her classmate. The pink Pegasus infuriatingly chose that precise moment to look in her direction, and offered up a sickeningly sweet smile. Tangerine averted her eyes quickly. When she and her best friend had signed up for extra credits in their favourite subject, she rather thought that it would be just the two of them, something that would really tie the friendship lessons into the music that they were planning to write together.

She glanced to the chair to her other side, and discreetly got Lemon Jelly’s attention whilst the professor was jotting something on the board. Lemon looked up from her sheets and swept her white mane from her eyes, offering Tangerine a quizzical look. Tangerine nodded her head in the foal’s direction with a minute, barely noticeable movement and flashed a confused expression, silently communicating ‘what gives?’.

Lemon leaned back in her chair slightly, peering past her friend at the Pegasus. Tangerine dared not follow her gaze for fear of making it too obvious that they were staring, so she didn’t know if Lemon got caught observing just as she had. After a moment, Lemon leaned back and offered her friend a non-committal shrug. Tangerine frowned, vexed.

“...so as you can see,” Sweetie Belle finished dotting notes on the board with a flourish before turning around, “setting aside what the piece actually sounds like, the very structure of notes, the composition of dots on a page, can also contribute to the art you’re creating. Whatever the mood you’re trying to evoke, will still be reflected in the black and white. It’s why, for my bits, music is one of the greatest, if not the greatest artform.”

Lemon raised a yellow foreleg into the air. Sweetie Belle acknowledged her with a nod.

“But Professor,” she questioned, “surely this is an aspect of music that can only be appreciated by other musicians.”

“True,” Sweetie Belle replied, tapping her stick of chalk to her mouth thoughtfully before realising what she was doing and wiping her lips with the back of her hoof. “With that in mind, while music can and should be enjoyed by everycreature, you could certainly make the argument that it takes a musician to fully appreciate a piece.”

Just then there was a soft knock at the door. Sweetie Belle glanced in its direction, and saw Spike’s face through the window. The Dragon held up a purple palm in a casual wave to go with his concerned looking face.

“Girls, why don’t you see if you can come up with some ideas to create a piece where the structure of the notes matches the tone of the music. As ever, see if you can work as a team to come up with some ideas. Remember, music is a magnificent tool for bringing creatures together, that’s why we teach it here.”

The Unicorn acknowledged Spike with a wave of her hoof.

“I’m just going to speak to Spike for a few minutes.” She continued. “When I get back, we’ll take a look at what kind of ideas you’ve had.”

With that, the professor trotted to the door and stepped into the corridor, leaving it open a crack. A moment later, the ponies heard her begin to converse in hushed tones with the Dragon.

“Well,” Tangerine said slowly, looking between her friend and the young Pegasus, “Anypony have any ideas on what kind of music we’d like to make?”

“Something happy,” Lemon smiled. “Maybe something with a tremolo?”

Tangerine nodded, returning the smile.

“How about you?” She asked, turning to the pink Pegasus. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Cozy Glow,” The foal responded, extending a hoof.

“So, how’s it going?” Spike spoke softly, slouching against the wood panel of the corridor in his usual manner.

“So good so far?” Sweetie Belle replied with a shrug. “She hasn’t really said anything yet. Not to me, anyway.”

The dragon nodded, his expression tense.

“I’m putting together a report to Twilight on her first day,” he whispered. “If she’s all quiet for now, I’ll let you get back to it. I’ll catch up with you later and you can fill me in on anything significant.”

“Yeah...” Sweetie sighed distractedly, allowing her eyes to trace the door frame back in the direction of the classroom. “I guess.”

The Unicorn’s horn illuminated, and she magically and fretfully toyed with a curl of her pink and purple mane.

“You okay?” Spike questioned.

“I...um...yeah,” Sweetie stumbled, snapping back to reality. The Dragon raised an eyebrow. Sweetie Belle locked eyes with the Dragon and sighed, relenting.

“It’s just...I don’t know what I was expecting,” the Unicorn whispered. “Like, she hasn’t changed at all, but we all have.”

“Yeah?” Spike probed. “Well, she was made of stone for the last ten years. From what it looks like, no time has passed for her at all.”

“I know, I know.” Sweetie hung her head. “I dunno, I think I just thought that she’d have...moved on, somehow. Evolved. Changed, I don’t know.”

Spike stared at her blankly. Sweetie Belle looked at him, attempting to read his expression. When she found nothing, she continued.

“Ok, so like, when me and Scoots and AB were young, it felt like we could do anything, you know? We got into scrapes all the time, but we always knew that we had you and Twilight and our families behind us. Stuff didn’t seem like such a big deal back then. Now though...”

Spike remained silent for a few moments, unsure of what to say.

“What does this have to do with Cozy?” He finally settled on.

“It’s just... she scares me now more than she ever did when were the same age.” Sweetie Belle relented. “Is that weird?”

The Dragon glanced away, taking the scantest of seconds to consider his answer.

“No...no, I don’t think so.” He said. “I think it’s just you’re a little more...aware these days. When you’re young you don’t think about consequences so much. Now we’re both older and there’s less ponies we can go to for help. The bit stops with us.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Sweetie sighed. “Kinda makes me feel silly though. My younger self would probably be appalled at how I’m acting.”

“I doubt it,” Spike smiled kindly. “She’d probably-”

The Dragon’s words were cut short just then by a loud shout from inside the classroom, rendering his thoughts unsaid. Neither he nor Sweetie were able to catch any of the actual words that were shouted, but whatever they were, it seemed as though the heated exchange was continuing.

For a second that seemed to span centuries, all Spike and Sweetie could do was stare at each other, their faces frozen in terror, the colour draining from their cheeks. Then, the Dragon practically barged past his friend to get into the class room, the Unicorn hot on his heels.

“WELL, I THINK IT SHOULD BE A HAPPY PIECE WITH A TREMOLO!” Lemon Jelly shrieked into the face of her friend.

“THAT’S A PATHETIC CLICHÉ!” Tangerine Dream screamed back. “IT SHOULD BE A SOMBER DIRGE WITH A SLOW PLODDING STRUCTURE THAT REFLECTS THE TONE!”

It was a bizarre scene that the pair walked in on. The two friends, apparently perfectly content before, were now practically nose to nose angrily shouting at each other. Sweetie Belle rushed to the two and attempted to interpose herself between them and make herself heard over the din. Spike however, simply froze in the door way as he locked eyes with Cozy Glow.

She was leaning back in her chair, hind legs lazily propped up on her desk, while she gently rubbed at one her fore hooves with an emery board. Her eyes followed Sweetie Belle to the scene beside her with vague interest before they flitted back to the Dragon in the doorway. When her gaze met his she grinned broadly, pausing in her hoof maintenance to brush a rogue strand of cyan curl out of her eyes.

Spike’s breath caught in his throat. She was silently sending him a clear message, one that was only punctuated by the slow, deliberate glance to the two fighting ponies beside her, before the grin drooled off her face and without breaking eye-contact, she idly snapped the emery board in half.

I wish I could say the day improved from there. I had the pleasure of escorting Cozy away from the other students and watching over her in the library for ten minutes or so while Sweetie Belle repaired the damage she’d done to Lemon and Tangerine’s friendship. Luckily, it seems that whatever she said wasn’t long lasting and the two have returned to being as close as once they were.

I’m sure you can guess my feelings on allowing her unrestricted access to the rest of the student body, but for the sake of the record, allow me to be blunt: I think it’s a bad idea. Bordering on terrible.

However, you’re the Princess of Friendship, not I, and I still have faith in you. Therefore, until we hear different from you, we’ll continue to do things the way you want them done.

For what it’s worth, Cozy Glow didn’t say much while we were in the library, but her smug little face spoke volumes. Sinisterly, she was reading ‘How to Win Friends and Influence People’ while we were there.

Her next scheduled class was Potion Crafting with Apple Bloom. Naturally I escorted her there, and after her antics with Sweetie Belle’s class, I thought it best if I sit in on the lesson throughout. Thank Celestia I did...

The students clustered around the circular wooden table, examining with varying degrees of excitement the plethora of ingredients that lay before them. There numerous varieties of dried leaves stored in glass jars, bowls heaped with red, orange and yellow spices, a mortar and pestle containing an unknown grey powder, and various pipette bottles containing liquids representing all the colours of the rainbow, to name but a few. At the centre of them all there towered a large black wrought-iron cauldron, ready to accept any mixtures.

“Now then, class,” Apple Bloom smiled from the front of the room. “Ah know that ‘fer some of you this is tha first introduction yev had t’ potions, so ah’m gonna take things nice and slow.”

Several anxious faces on the young creatures gathered around the table broke their staring at the overwhelming number of items on display to look at their teacher, and their expressions relaxed, even breaking into smiles for the most part. Unsurprisingly, Cozy Glow was not among them. Her expression was one of sheer boredom, and as Apple Bloom finished speaking, she made a show of stifling a yawn. Apple Bloom pointedly ignored the foal’s rude theatrics and plodded on.

“When I were just a filly, sometimes ah used to think that we Earth Ponies got short changed in th’ grand scheme o’ things. Aftah all, Pegasi get to fly, Unicorns get their magic, but whut do we get?”

The teacher paused, giving her students an imploring look. After some shuffling of hooves and glances back and forth, a strawberry-coloured Earth filly raised her hoof in the air.

“Yes, Berry Whip?” Apple Bloom grinned encouragingly.

“Um, Earth Ponies tend to be stronger than Pegasi or Unicorns,” the filly said timidly. “We’re also good at growing things, generally speaking.”

“That’s exactly right!” Apple Bloom cried, lightly clapping her hooves together. “An’ that right there, what you jus’ said about us bein’ good at growing things? Why, that’s where tha basis of the entire subject o’ potion work started. See, back in the early days...”

Spike tilted himself back on his chair at the back of the room and tuned the Crusader out as she got into the weeds of the historical significance of potions in early Earth Pony agricultural advancement. He wasn’t trying to be rude, far from it, it was just that this was information he’d heard before, numerous times, and besides, he had more important matters to focus on. Like the back of a certain blue curly-maned head, to pluck an example at random.

The Dragon bobbed back and forth on his chair, steepling his fingers as his eyes looked daggers at his target. He continued to sway, wondering what he was actually supposed to do if Cozy Glow got too chatty with her fellow classmates. It wasn’t as though he could actually prevent her from talking to anypony, as such an action would contravene Twilight’s wishes, and even if he could, policing such activity required far more effort and scrutiny than he was prepared to commit to. He supposed that if he heard raised voices, he would just have to intervene and quickly as possible, to de-escalate and defuse the situation. The only problem now was, Cozy knew she was being watched more closely, and he had a feeling that she was far too clever to try and pull the same trick twice in a row.

His suspicious thoughts were caught short as he almost overbalanced in his chair, and it took a panicked flailing of his arms to prevent from tipping over backwards. Once all four of the chair legs were firmly planted on the floorboards, he sat stiffly still, sweat beaded on his forehead. A short distance away, Apple Bloom’s lesson continued unimpeded. Nopony had noticed. It seemed like he had gotten away with it.

The realization caused him to slump in his chair once more, though this time he made the smart decision to utilize all of the chair legs at once, the way Celestia intended. Over by the students, a pencil dropped to the floor, which Cozy Glow flitted down to retrieve. On her way back up, Spike caught a glimpse of a smile that had become far too familiar over the past few days; one that looked warm and welcoming to the untrained eye, but one that the Dragon knew was as false as Pinkie Pie diet.

“So, since tha’ study of potions all began with Earth Ponies researchin’ better ways to tend their crops,” Apple Bloom continued, “Ah thought today we’d try russlin’ up a batch o’ rapid grow soil.”

The professor began to place a small plant pot containing some moist soil in front of each of her students.

“Now what we have here is some quality fertilizer,” Apple Bloom smiled. “Rich in ammonia and other such nutrients.”

Some of the students closely examined the pots in front of them, wrinkling their snouts at the pungent odour. Apple Bloom noticed their reactions, and grinned even more widely.

“That’s right it, stinks!” She announced proudly. “That’s how y’know you’ve got a good batch right there. Now, why don’t those of yew that’ve done this before get into groups with the newbies, show ‘em how it’s done, and we’ll see how much y’all remember.”

Several of the Ponies around the table nodded, and there was a shuffling and scraping of chairs as several students moved to different seats around the table. Apple Bloom took the opportunity to look to the back of the classroom, and to the Dragon that lurked there. It took Spike a few moments to notice her gaze, so engrossed was he in his own thoughts. When their eyes finally met, she offered him the tiniest of shrugs, silently communicating ‘So good so far’. Spike offered her a dark look in return. No doubt she’d heard that there’d been a minor disturbance in Sweetie Belle’s class, but he didn’t think she had the full picture yet.

Next to Cozy, the recently vacated chair was taken by a purple Unicorn with a flowing pink mane and a golden flower cutie mark.

“Um, hi, I’m Lotus Petal,” She said, turning between Cozy and the yellow Earth Pony on her other side. “I’ve only done this once before, but I think I can remember what to do...”

The filly’s voice sounded meek and uncertain. A diabolical grin flashed across Cozy Glow’s lips for the briefest of instants.

“Hi, I’m Cozy Glow!” the Pegasus smiled warmly, expertly feigning enthusiasm. “Don’t worry, I’ve brewed this mixture a whole bunch of times.”

“Oh, okay,” Lotus responded with relief. “I’ll let you take the lead then. What do we do first?”

Cozy Glow stroked her chin thoughtfully.

“If memory serves, the first thing we want to do is mix in some of this,” she replied, sliding a plastic bottle across the table to Lotus.

“Right!” Lotus grabbed the bottle, and began squirting it into the pot, clearly happy to not be the one in charge. “What’s next?”

“Get a lot of it in there,” Cozy smiled. “Get yourself a spoon, and make sure it’s all good and mixed in.”

“Okay!”

Spike sat up in his chair, craning his neck to see what was going on. He could hear indistinct talking coming from Cozy, but he couldn’t make out what was being said over the chatter of the other students. It looked like she had hoofed something to her classmate, but with their backs to him, he couldn’t tell what. His body tensed, an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Professor!” Cozy raised her hoof in the air. “May I visit the little filly’s room, please?”

“Oh, um, yeah o’ course Cozy.” Apple Bloom replied.

Cozy nodded her thanks and hopped off her stool. When she did do, the table and the pot and the bottle that she’d passed to Lotus became visible to the Dragon. His heart froze when he saw the label on the white plastic.

Oh no.

The Dragon leapt to his feet and dashed to the table, making it there before Cozy got to the door. As he did so Lotus raised her hoof.

“Professor, is it supposed to be doing that?”

Apple Blooms eyes flitted to the plant pot, that was now merrily spewing pale-yellow fumes across the tabletop. Before she could respond, Spike raised his voice.

“Class, I’m going to need all of you to calmly step into the hall right now.” He growled.

Cozy paused in her trip to the door to shoot a look of amusement at the Dragon. There was a murmur of concern from the students, but they obeyed, sliding off their chairs and shuffling away from the table, past the now hovering Cozy and out of the room.

“Spike...?” Apple Bloom managed to splutter out.

“You too, professor,” Spike said quickly, gesturing towards the exit.

Apple Bloom nodded fearfully, and filed behind her students. Cozy Glow followed her, and Spike paused only to pluck the bottle off the table before he too left the room. He pulled the door shut tight behind him.

“Spike, what is-” Apple Bloom started. Spike made no reply, simply holding out the bottle for her to see, his expression furious. She scanned the label.

“Bleach.” She groaned. “That’s not one of my ingredients! How’d...?

“I’ve got a few ideas,” The Dragon spat, fixing his eyes on the foal nonchalantly making her way down the hallway. He angrily barged through the pupils and swooped down upon her, picking her up by the scruff of her neck.

“Hey! Brute-!” She squealed, but fell cautiously silent when he held her up to his face and she caught his expression.

“You’re not going anywhere.” He snarled.

He stomped back to Apple Bloom and unceremoniously dumped the filly at the professor’s hooves.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Spike barked. “I don’t care if she has to pee on the carpet.”

Apple Bloom nodded grimly, while Cozy Glow painfully rubbed the back of her neck with a murderous look in Spike’s direction. The Professor forced a jolly expression onto her face as Spike took a deep breath and re-entered the room, closing the door quickly behind him.

“Well class, ah guess now’s as good time as any to explain why we should never, ever, allow ammonia an’ bleach to mix-” was the last thing he heard before it slammed shut.

The Dragon glanced to the table, its surface still cluttered with note-pads, quills, the ingredients Apple Bloom had laid out, and of course, plant-pots. The offending pot in particular was still pumping out its thick yellow vapour, which seemed to be heavier than the air as it was crawling across the table and cascading over the edge.

Right. First thing was first.

Still holding his breath, Spike strode to the windows of the classroom and opened every one of them, hoping that if he could just get enough of an air-flow into the room then the toxic fumes would harmlessly dissipate into the air. Once he had hefted the last heavy window frame up and flicked the catch to hold it in place, he looked back to the table. There was no discernible difference in the amount of gas that was lapping across it. The pot bubbled mockingly at him.

The Dragon growled a frustrated growl, losing ounces of his precious air reserves in the process. His chest was beginning to feel tight, an uncomfortable burning sensation in his lungs as his body politely reminded him that we could actually do with a little more oxygen down here, if you please, if it’s not too much trouble.

He needed to get rid of the pot, and fast.

He darted to the table and grabbed the smoking terracotta. His first instinct was to simply lob it out of one of the newly opened windows, but as he dashed back and stuck his head out, he saw a pathway below, with one or two creatures ambling about, presumably on their way to class.

No good, no good. As the fumes wafted out of the pot and over his hands, his body sent him a slightly more urgent memo than the last, stating that y’know, we have just been rushing about a room and hoisting heavy windows up, all without air. I’m not one to complain, it chided, but the whole affair has been extremely tiring, been far from optimal for the O2 reserves, and not at all the kind of treatment I should be expected to put with, thank you very much. The burning in his lungs became an inferno, the desire to simply inhale becoming borderline irresistible.

Think, Dragon, think! Where to put it? It needs to leave the room. It can’t go out the window, and it certainly can’t go out of the door. So then...where?

Spike fitfully clawed at his neck, searching for a collar that he knew wasn’t there, but instead found a thin metal chain. What was that, his foggy brain asked distantly? Oh, the medallion thing. For going to see Rarity, and for any emergencies that might...

The medallion! Of course! If he’d had the air to spare, he might’ve slapped himself in the head for his stupidity. Clutching it tightly in his claws he forced his tired, oxygen deprived brain to visualise the one place where he knew it would do no harm.

Just as a darkness was beginning to slowly creep up his field of vision, just as his body was now announcing that if it didn’t get air RIGHT NOW then it was going on strike, effective immediately, the portal crackled into existence, offering the Dragon a window to his ancestral homeland. Jagged, red peaks stabbed at the brooding sky, sparks and sulphur drifted through the air, and, most importantly, a glowing orange lake of lava spread out before him. Not taking a moment to admire the view, he hurled the pot through, where it splashed into the molten rock with a minute hiss. Not taking a moment to admire his handiwork, he bolted to the window, stuck his head out once more, and filled his lungs with crisp, clean, Equestrian air. He gasped, panting and practically draped himself over the sill as the pain in his chest slowly subsided and his vision cleared.

After a minute or two, he knew he was probably fine once more, but he didn’t really want to get back up. He didn’t want to have to go back into the hallway and have to deal with her.

He admonished himself for manhandling her the way he did, but for Celestia’s sake, somepony could have died. Maybe. Truth be told, he didn’t know what amount of chlorine gas would prove fatal, but that wasn’t really the point. Somepony, for that matter, somedragon, could have been seriously hurt.

But did that justify flinging the foal around like she was a stuffed toy? He doubted it. He tried to imagine what his sister would say, then immediately regretted it.

‘We have to do better than this, Spike. We have to be better than her. If she’s ever going to be reformed, if she’s ever going to know the joy of true friendship, then we can’t be her captors, and we certainly can’t be her abusers. I think you know what you have to do next.’

The Dragon scowled at nopony. Easy for Twilight to hypothetically say, when she wasn’t even here. She creates a potentially deadly situation in the middle of class, and now he has to apologise to her? He hung his head, squeezed his eyes shut and grasped the window frame hard enough for the wood to creak under his grip. He emitted a long, low growl.

He was still angry; furious even, but at least he seemed to be able to keep a sense of perspective. He reared back up, withdrew from the window, and made for the door. On the way he carefully inspected the room. There didn’t seem to be any lingering fumes that he could tell. He took a few tentative sniffs of the air, and detected nothing untoward. His nose, throat lungs and eyes weren’t burning at the very least, so that was something. He was about to leave, when he remembered that the portal was still open. One quick mental command later, and it shrank in size and disappeared with a magical pop.

When he at last made it back into the corridor, Apple Bloom and her class were still there, as was Cozy Glow, and a tearful Lotus Petal was explaining herself to her teacher.

“I...I’m so sorry professor!” She wept. “I thought I remembered that bottle going in the mixture and...and...”

She trailed off, her voice devolving into sobs. Spike felt his rage renew at the scene. Somehow the filly seemed to have completely forgotten that it was Cozy who had hoofed her the bottle. Apple Bloom lightly touched the cheek of her student with her hoof.

“Shh, it’s okay, Lotus.” Apple Bloom reassured. “Ah know it was just a simple mistake, these things happen. That bleach never should a’ been on the table in tha’ first place.”

Keeping his emotions in check, the Dragon announced his presence by lightly clearing his throat.

“It’s, uh, all clear.” He said softly.

“Oh, thank ya, Spike,” Apple Bloom breathed a sigh of relief. “All right class, Mr. Spike has made it safe in there again, so why don’t y’all return to your seats, and ah’ll be with ya in just a minute.”

The students began filing back into the classroom, with a sniffling Lotus and her friends leading the way. Cozy Glow grumpily began to follow them, until Spike stepped in the way, blocking her path.

“Not you.” He said, fighting to keep his tone neutral.

The pink foal simply smiled sweetly up at him, her previous furious expression and body language gone.

“Well golly,” She squeaked. “What’re we going to do for the rest of this period?”

“You go to the library.” Spike muttered. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Cozy Glow turned on her hooves and began lightly padding down the corridor.

“Cozy.” Spike called after her. The foal half turned in his direction, flashing the fake saccharine smile once more.

“Don’t make me come looking for you.” He warned softly.

If the Pegasus understood the severity of the Dragon’s words, she made no indication of it, just widening her grin and offering both he and Apple Bloom an eyes-closed cute face. As she continued unhurriedly down the corridor, Spike turned to Apple Bloom.

“Are you alright?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t really want Cozy, nor anypony else for that matter to hear their discussion. “The other students too?”

“I, uh...yeah, we’re all fine.” Apple Bloom stammered. “Jus’ a little shaken up, ah guess.”

“Only thanks to you, though.” She added, bowing her head slightly, her ears flat against her mane.

“Don’t worry about it,” Spike shook his head. “I’ve been watching her pretty close since Sweetie Belle’s class. Any idea where that bleach came from?”

“Ah...” The mare faltered. “Ah keep a bucket o’ cleanin’ supplies under the table fer when it’s time t’ mop up after class. She must’a got it outta there.”

“Figures.” Spike nodded. “I’ll keep her busy for the rest of this period. You get back to your students.”

“This is mah fault, ain’t it?” She asked softly, her voice cracking and her eyes glazing over with tears. “Mah students could’a been badly hurt, and it’s all mah fault.”

“No, no, it isn’t.” Spike replied firmly. “It’s only one Pony’s fault, and I think we both know who that is.”

Apple Bloom nodded, her mind clearly elsewhere.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok.” Spike reassured. “We dealt with it, nopony got hurt, it’s all fine.”

The mare snapped to attention at his words, her eyes meeting his once more.

“Yeah,” She swallowed, grimly. “Ah, uh...ah better git back to...”

She trailed off, nodding her head in the direction of the classroom door.

“Yeah.” Spike agreed. “And I better go find Cozy, make sure she’s not setting fire to the school or something.”

Apple Bloom offered him a small smile, before placing her hoof on the door handle.

“Maybe keep your cleaning supplies locked up from now on though.” The Dragon lightly jabbed, just before she stepped through.

“Right.” Apple Bloom glowered.

Somewhat surprisingly, Cozy Glow was in the library when Spike found her. He’d almost decided to check everywhere else first, thinking that there was no way the little monster was going to obey a single word he said. He’d been joking when he said to AB that he wanted to check she wasn’t setting fire to the school, but it honestly wouldn’t have surprised him if he’d caught her in the basement with a can of lamp oil and a box of matches.

In the end though, he figured he’d check the library first, just to rule it out. He pushed his way through the polished wood double doors with etched patterns in the frosted windows and lightly tramped across the dark green carpet.

The library, having been designed by Twilight, was fairly gargantuan, even by school standards. It spanned across four floors, and was filled with countless mahogany bookshelves, each one crammed to near breaking point with dusty tomes on every subject imaginable. Staircases with polished bannisters crawled and twisted up to the higher levels where yet more bookshelves lurked, and the whole room was illuminated by a giant glass domed skylight overhead, with magically powered wall-mounted lanterns brightening the alcoves the natural light failed to reach.

Here on the ground floor, there were numerous erratically placed circular tables for students to study at, each one waxed to the point of one being able to see one’s face in it, as well as an island like reception desk in the middle of the room.

Spike’s eyes instinctively flitted to this desk as he entered, and to the staff pony who was slouched at it, idly scrutinising a hard-cover over the top of half-moon spectacles. His first thought was to wander over and ask her if any demons wearing foal’s skin had breezed in in the last few minutes. Before he could act upon it, however, he saw her.

She was sat at one of the round tables, right in front of the door, brazenly sitting with her hooves propped up while she leafed through a worn paperback. She wasn’t even trying to hide. For some reason, that irked the Dragon even more than if she had been hiding. She was making it very clear that she didn’t fear either him or any consequences, and she wanted him to know it.

“Cozy Glow,” Spike barked, storming to the table.

“Shh,” the Pegasus responded, raising a hoof to her lips, not looking up from her book. “This is a library, you know.”

Spike glanced around in irritation. He couldn’t see any other students in the room, at least not on this floor, but the receptionist had looked up from her reading, a grouchy expression on her face. The Dragon raised a hand in her direction apologetically, before he painfully swallowed his pride and pulled up a chair next to the foal.

“You could have really hurt somepony with that stunt.” He said softly, doing a masterful job of keeping the rage out of his voice.

“Hmm, I know.” Cozy chuckled. “Maybe next time, eh?”

“There won’t be a next time,” Spike growled dangerously. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

At this the Pegasus actually looked up from her book, and snorted a laugh through her nose.

“Whatever you say.”

“I’ll be informing Starlight and Twilight what happened. They’ll decide what punishment you receive.”

“I see. Well, I’ll be waiting with baited breath.”

Spike glared daggers at the foal, before he sighed and looked at the floor. This next part was going to really suck.

“I’m sorry I grabbed you before.” He spoke clearly, and deliberately slowly, determined to not have to repeat himself.

“What?”

Spike sighed again, wincing internally.

“I was angry, but that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have manhandled you like that. It won’t happen again.”

His apology was met with silence. He looked up and saw a surprising sight. He’d expected to see smugness, condescension, superiority, something like that plastering the foal’s face, but instead he only saw confusion. Pure, abject, confusion that was furrowing Cozy’s brow and pulling one side of her upper lip towards her muzzle.

The silence continued. It was like she didn’t know how to react, like she’d never been in this position before. Spike stared at her uncertainly. Then, she seemingly realised that too much time had passed and that her facade had slipped, and suddenly the Cozy he knew was back, and just as obnoxious as ever.

“See that it doesn’t.” She sniffed, looking down her nose at the Dragon.

I don’t know what to tell you. It’s as if there was a moment there when I saw the real Cozy Glow? It’s like for that one moment the front she keeps up fell away, and it wasn’t anger or hatred that I saw behind it.

I don’t know, maybe I’m reading too much into it. What do you think?

And yes, yes, I know, I shouldn’t have grabbed her like that. I’ve already gone through everything you’d say to me about that in my imagination, so do me a favour and let’s skip the real-life version? Under the circumstances I think we should both be thankful that I didn’t strangle her.

Anyway, that concluded the potion lesson. Next up it was sports with Scootaloo, and while she didn’t try and kill anypony in this class, I still wouldn’t say it went well...

It was bright and sunny outside, but there was blustery wind blowing about the buckball field, and the sky was pocked with clouds. The grass blades were swept about to and fro, the blades catching the light and appearing a paler shade of green when they did so.

Scootaloo bounced the red rubber ball a few times on the ground, the silver whistle that she wore jangling around her neck. The ground was firm, but the grass made it sub-optimal for bouncing, so she stopped, allowing it to settle on the ground and placing one of her forelegs on top of it to keep it in place. With her other hoof she adjusted her official Ponyville buckball cap and scanned the field. Her class were assembled a short distance away, in the middle of the field a stone’s throw from the school, where there were also various baskets and goals, as well as a large net bag filled with extra balls.

There was no sign of Spike and Cozy just yet, and just as she was about to start without them, she saw them, just picking their way over the grass towards her. She waved cheerfully at them from this distance, an action which belied the uneasy feeling she felt in the pit of her stomach. Neither Dragon nor Pegasus waved back.

After a few moments they were with her, Spike looking haggard and sulky, Cozy looking like she’d rather be literally anywhere else.

“Hi guys!” Scootaloo cried with false cheer. “Ready to play some buckball?”

The teacher gave the ball another bounce for emphasis as she said this. Both Spike and Cozy simply grunted in reply. Scootaloo’s smile froze on her face. Whatever had occurred prior to them joining her lesson, it had been nothing good.

“Ok, um, Cozy, why don’t you go and join the other students on the playing field there?” Scootaloo attempted to plough on. “I’ll be along in just a second.”

The foal gave no response to this, she just disinterestedly began sauntering her way over to the rest of the students. Only when she was far enough away to be out of earshot did the smile disappear from Scootaloo’s face.

“Spike?” She asked uncertainly. “What’s going on? You look like you’ve been through Tartarus.”

“I wish.” The Dragon grumbled. “Compared to that little bottom feeder, Tartarus would be a picnic.”

“What happened?”

“Too much to get into.” Spike sighed, sounding exhausted. “I’ll tell you all at the same time later, during the meeting.”

Scootaloo almost protested, her impatience at wanting to know how her friend’s lessons had gone nearly getting the better of her. However, one look at the Dragon’s face and the devastation that lay in his expression told her that the smart thing to do would be to drop it. Accordingly, she simply nodded, her expression severe and apprehensive.

“I’d better follow on after her.” Spike continued. “I don’t care how Twilight wants this done; I don’t want her talking to any of your students for this one.”

“Yeesh.” Scootaloo winced. “That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.” The Dragon responded.

The orange Pegasus clutched the ball tightly as the Dragon slumped after Cozy Glow. She bit her lip apprehensively. What the heck had happened? They knew, both her, the other crusaders, Spike and Starlight, that this wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, but based on her friend’s appearance, this seemed to be getting out of hoof. On day one, no less! She wondered, not for the first time, if maybe they’d bitten off more than they could chew with this project. If they were having this much trouble with her, how in Equestria would they fare against Tirek? Or, Celestia herself protect them, Chrysalis?

Scootaloo shook her head, clearing her thoughts. One thing at a time. Rainbow Dash didn’t become a Wonder Bolt in a day, and neither would Cozy Glow. Not become a Wonder Bolt, that is, just you know, be redeemed or whatever. Not that she couldn’t become a Wonder Bolt, she was a Pegasus after all, and she was young enough (at least physically) that if she were to start her training now, then...

Scootaloo watched as Spike reached the edge of the buckball pitch and hovered on the edge, shoulders slumped, looking like he was waiting for his own execution. She glared inwardly. This tangent was serving no purpose, and was delaying her from her class. She stomped on the ball, expertly causing it to rebound into the air, where she deftly caught it. Let’s do this.

Spike miserably caught up to the accursed Pegasus on the buckball field. There were six Earth Ponies and Unicorns standing around staring blankly at each other on the clay patch that was the pitch proper. Two Pegasus’ flapped about in the air a short distance from one of the goals, looking equally nonplussed.

Cozy, upon reaching the clay, spread her wings and took to the air, hovering near her flying classmates. Spike watched her go, and briefly considered taking to the air himself, but decided against it, at least for the time being.

“Hi, I’m Cozy Glow!” Cozy waved at the other Pegasus’. “I’m sure we’ll be best friends in no time!”

The fake display severely grated at the Dragon.

“Cozy...” He growled up at her from the sidelines. He didn’t think he’d been all that loud, but apparently it was enough to get the little brat’s attention. She looked down at him, and smiled a smile that was nothing like the one she flashed to her classmates. This one was predatory and dripping with venom. Then she actually had the nerve to blow the Dragon a kiss. Spike clenched his fists hard enough for his claws to puncture the skin on his palms. A thin wisp of green smoke wafted out of his nostrils.

“Look alive class!” Scootaloo whooped as she appeared at the Dragon’s side. “Time to learn how to play some buckball!”

Spike found himself somewhere between relief and annoyance that she’d arrived when she did. Relief that he now wouldn’t be able to unleash his anger on the foal, and annoyance for...well, the same reason. He took a discreet deep breath and attempted, with limited success, to calm his raging emotions.

“Now, I know that quite a few of you are familiar with the rules already,” Scootaloo continued, “But for those that aren’t, please be patient while I explain to the newbies.”

She glanced around briefly, checking the faces of her students, just to make sure that there weren’t any pre-explanation questions that needed addressing. When she saw that there weren’t, she continued.

“Buckball is a game played in teams of three. There are some variations here and there, but generally, there’ll be a Unicorn, a Pegasus and an Earth Pony on each team.”

Scootaloo again paused. Some of her students, the ones who already knew the game, looked bored, idly and impatiently kicking at the clay pitch or else staring into space. Cozy Glow had a pensive look on her face, her forelegs folded in front of her as she bobbed lightly in the air. Spike’s eyes were fixed on the pink Pegasus, his expression grimly expectant.

“The object of the game is to get the ball into the opponent’s goal,” Scootaloo continued, undaunted, holding up her rubber sphere for emphasis. “Typically, that’s the job of the Earth Ponies, bucking the ball. Hence the name of the game.”

The teacher pointed a hoof at one of the poles with a half barrel on top of it. There were two of them, one at each end of the field, each one a good twenty feet in the air. The wooden buckets on the top were sloppily painted with red, blue and white stripes, as was the traditional buckball colours.

“Those are your goals,” she smiled, looking up at the Pegasus fliting in the air. “It’s the Pegasus’ job to defend those from balls bucked from the centre field. You can do that however you can, hooves, tails, whatever.”

“Miss Scootaloo, what about Unicorns?” A soft voiced Unicorn filly asked, her hoof raised.

“I was just getting to that,” Scootaloo smiled. “It’s the Unicorn’s job to stand on the edges of the outfield and catch any wayward balls that have missed the goal or been blocked by the Pegasus’,”

The teacher dropped her ball at this point and removed one of the wooden tubs from the nearby stack and held it aloft. It looked similar, if a little smaller, to the ones on top of the pole.

“They do that by catching them in one of these. Sounds easy, right? Well, here’s the catch: only magic is allowed to be used by the Unicorns. No physical contact with either the ball or the bucket, or that’s a foul. That counts even if you get hit by a stray ball, so in addition to being good magical catchers, you’ll find that they sometimes need to be good dodgers, too.”

Scootaloo lowered the barrel and placed it on the ground beside her.

“There’re some other things like tactics and scoring, but we can worry about that later. For now, I’d like you to form some teams, one Pegasus, Unicorn and Earth Pony each, and we’ll see how you do on some practice shots.”

Another pause, another scan of the faces in front of her. So good so far.

“Any questions?”

“I have a question, professor,” a sweet voice drifted down from above. Despite its saccharine sound, the word ‘professor’ was dripping with condescension.

Scootaloo felt a lurch of fear in the pit of her stomach. She looked up to see Cozy Glow, still hovering in the air, but now with her hoof raised and a malicious grin on her face. Oh no. Here it came.

“Yes, uh...”Scootaloo paused, while she pretended to have to remember the filly’s name. “Cozy Glow.”

As she spoke, out of the corner of her eye she saw a Dragon clap a palm to his face.

“I was just wondering,” Cozy Glow drawled, “what the point was?”

There was a murmur of shocked amusement from her classmates.

“The point?” Scootaloo repeated. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“Well, what’s the reason to play?” The filly elaborated. “What do you get for winning?”

“Well, nothing.” The teacher replied with bewilderment. “Just the satisfaction of having your practice and training pay off.”

“Oh.” Cozy replied in faux disappointment. “It all seems a little futile.”

At this, there were at least a couple of accenting voices among the assembled foals. Scootaloo gave her Dragon companion a quick glance, hoping for guidance. None was forthcoming.

“Well, it’s also a great source of exercise.” The teacher said indignantly, somehow now on the backhoof. “You’ll find it utilises all of your major-”

“There are more efficient ways of doing that, as I’m sure you know.” Cozy cut her off coldly.

“Well...well-” Scootaloo stumbled, unsure of just where all this was going. Distressingly, the dissent among some members of the other foals seemed to be growing.

“My point is,” Cozy Glow continued, now beginning to flap back and forth, one hoof pressed to her chin, as though she were a lawyer strutting in front of a jury, “is that you have this game, this game that seems to celebrate the differences between the three types of Pony-kind rather than what unites us, a game with no tangible benefits, and we’re supposed to be excited?”

“No...no.” Scootaloo stammered. “Because, because, there’s an Earth Pony, a Pegasus and a Unicorn on each team-”

“Yes, and each one is pigeon-holed into their assigned role. Tell me, what happens if a Pegasus wants to play offence? What if an Earth Pony wants to be a catcher? What then?”

“Well, that’s...that’s against the-”

At this point Spike lightly placed a hand on Scootaloo’s shoulder. The mare looked in his direction uncertainly, only to see a Dragon forlornly shaking his head.

“The rules, right.” Cozy continued. “The rules that constrain and divide. The rules that tell Ponies not to step outside their assigned roles. The rules that say if you aren’t willing to conform, then you can’t play.”

There was a chorus of ‘Yeah!’s from the foals, followed by a distinct ‘I wanna play defence!’ from the ground.

“Cozy...” Spike called up to the Pegasus, his voice strained.

“No, no...” Scootaloo attempted to smooth the situation, all too aware that the lesson had spiralled out of her control.

“What you call a ’game’ is in fact, nothing more than a tool of propaganda from a fascist regime!” Cozy Glow announced gleefully.

She paused, obviously expecting a riotous applause from the assembled foals. Instead, the small faces that looked up at her were etched with blank confusion. She allowed a flash of annoyance to briefly illuminate her face before she shifted tactics.

“You just want to control us!” She shouted.

“That’s ridiculous-”

“Yeah!” Roared the crowd.

“Cozy!” Spike called more forcefully.

“We’re not gonna take it, are we?” Cozy implored the crowd.

“No!” came the re-ignited response.

“They can’t push us around, can they?”

“No!”

“We won’t be told what to do, will we?”

“No, no, no!” Came the chant.

“Scootaloo, get your class to run laps or something.” Spike said quickly, but softly. “I’ll get her back to the library.”

The orange Pegasus wet her lips, and nodded with determination.

“Cozy!” The Dragon barked. “Don’t make me come up there!”

The hovering Pegasus smiled triumphantly down at him before shrugging her shoulders and fluttering down to stand in front of him.

“Well, since you’re all not in the mood to play ball, let’s get running some laps,” Scootaloo announced with all the cheer she could muster, before giving a short sharp blast on her whistle. The rabble of Ponies, their leader seemingly having abandoned them, soon quieted down and slinked off towards the field, Scootaloo close behind.

For a moment, Cozy and Spike simply stared at each other as the wind blew softly between them, rustling the grass about the Dragon’s feet. Cozy’s smug smile was, as ever, fixed in place, whilst the Dragon’s expression was haggard, but neutral.

“So then, library?” She said finally.

“You got it,” The Dragon snorted. “Get your flank moving, Trotsky.”

So, that about concludes the day’s lessons. We spent the rest of the teaching day in the library, in silence. Mercifully that didn’t last too long, as for the last period of the day Cozy was due to have her first counselling session with Starlight. Obviously, I wasn’t there for this, and to be honest, she’s been pretty vague about how it went. Not all that well from what I gather, as she said all she managed to get out of Cozy was vitriol and threats. If you want any more details than that, you’ll have to speak to Starlight herself.

Starlight stared warily at the blackboard. As blackboards went, it was a very nice one; a polished hardwood frame with hoof-carved ornate trimmings and a lovely unused clean night sky of a writing surface.

It wasn’t the quality of the board that was arousing the Unicorn’s suspicions, nor the minimalist note that accompanied it – one which simply read ‘To Starlight, please enjoy your new blackboard’ - it was simply the fact that it was there.

The headmare paced across the carpet, her carpet in her office, Trixie having been temporarily hoofed back into her own workspace so Starlight could conduct Cozy’s first session in familiar (for her at least) surroundings, and idly picked up a stick of chalk and placed it on the immaculate holder.

Somepony had bought her a new board. It was possible that it had been Spike or one of the Crusaders, though that seemed unlikely. This was a quality piece of bespoke teaching equipment; not the kind of thing one would be able to pick up at the general store. She lightly ran her hoof over the cedar frame. This thing was practically an antique.

It was also possible that ithadbeen Trixie, but again, unlikely. Not unless she had a small fortune stashed away somewhere that she’d dipped into to buy it. No, no, if she had to guess, she’d say that this had ‘From the Royal Palace of Twilight Sparkle’ written all over it.

Which meant that somepony had blabbed.

Starlight permitted herself a light groan. Somepony had told Twilight about her embarrassing loss of control. But who? That wouldn’t be the kind of thing Spike would report back to the Princess, would it? She sincerely hoped not, as the last thing she needed right now was Twilight worrying that she wasn’t up to the job, but she supposed that she couldn’t really blame the Dragon if he had, it was his job after all. Maybe-

A light rapping at her door interrupted her mental investigation and recriminations, and snapped her back to the here and now. She took a deep breath before she strode to the door, knowing exactly who would be there when she opened it.

“Cozy Glow!” She said cheerily to the filly in the doorway. “Please come in.”

Cozy Glow stepped inside with the slightest of eyerolls, and made her way to a small couch that the headmare had placed especially in her workspace. In the doorway, Spike lurked, looking as though he’d aged ten years since Starlight had last seen him. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but Starlight quietly raised her hoof just in front of herself, stopping him in his tracks. She nodded dourly, her wide eyes conveying ‘I know’.

In reply to their silent conversation, Spike shook his head with his eyes closed, as though he were trying to blot out unpleasant memories. When he opened them again, his expression read ‘You have no idea’.

Starlight nodded sympathetically and then rolled her eyes in the direction of the foal behind her, to which Spike returned the nod, and gratefully retreated from the door. A moment later, Starlight closed it with a soft click.

“Hello, Cozy Glow,” she said, turning around. She was about to say ‘Why don’t you take a seat?’ but she saw that the filly had already sprawled herself on the couch. The headmare kept the disapproval off her face, and fired up her soundproofing spell.

“Just one moment, and I’ll make sure that we get some privacy to talk.”

The bubble of magic expanded, and in matter of seconds engulfed the room. Cozy regarded it with limited interest. Starlight severed the magic from her horn, pulled her office chair close to the couch and produced a notepad and pencil from under the cushion.

“Now Cozy, I want you to know that these counselling sessions are a safe space for you, somewhere where I want you feel like you can speak your mind without fear of reproach.”

Cozy simply shrugged, said nothing and continued to tug at a loose thread on the paisley couch. Starlight continued, undaunted.

“Why don’t we start by talking about your first day at the school, hm?” The Unicorn prompted. “I take it that it hasn’t gone all that well.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Cozy replied, staring at the ceiling and the numerous kites that hung from it. “I think it went swimmingly. If you ask me, that Dragon of yours is far too eager to pull me out of lessons.”

“Well, maybe we should talk about specifics.” Starlight said, ignoring the slight against Spike. “What happened in Sweetie Belle’s class?”

The Pegasus threw her an incredulous look.

“Which one’s she again?”

“The music teacher.” Starlight bristled.

“Oh, right.” Cozy returned her eyes skyward. “Nothing happened. I was just in the class with two Ponies who weren’t as close friends as they thought they were. They started a shouting match, and suddenly I’m back in the library.”

“I see.” Starlight said slowly, writing something down in her pad. “And would it be fair to say that it was you who came between them?”

Again, the headmare was shot a look, this time an indignant one.

“Hey, if their friendship is so weak that it can’t survive some simple questions being asked and a few injustices pointed out, then that’s on them.”

“Interesting. Is that something you care about? Justice?”

“I’d say so. That’s all the destruction of magic was about, really. Either everypony should have magic or nopony should. That’s fair.”

“Right. But how do you justify all the harm done on the way to that goal? All the Ponies that could have lost their lives because they’re reliant on magic? My class and I were in Cloudsdale when the first wave of magical failure hit, you know? It’s not an exaggeration to say that we almost died. How is that fair?”

“Eh, you can’t make an omelette without cracking a few eggs.”

Starlight somehow managed to hide her ire and jotted ‘no remorse’ down in her pad. Cozy Glow looked in her direction.

“You think that makes me evil, don’t you?”

She continued to look at Starlight, with a look that the untrained eye might describe as sincere.

“I think it makes you disturbed,” the headmare responded, dryly. “If you can’t see why that’s wrong, that is.”

Cozy made a click sound with her mouth as she looked away once more.

“You just don’t get it.” She sighed. “It wasn’t about the Ponies who might’ve been hurt. It wasn’t about Sparkle, the Princesses, you or even me. It was about what came next.”

“Next?”

“The new generation of Ponies. The ones that will grow up knowing just a little bit of equality. That’s who it was supposed to be for.”

“I see,” Starlight said slowly. “And what about all the things we rely on magic for? Medicine? Industry? Transport? Eradicating magic would set us back centuries, at least.”

“I’m sure we’d have figured something out.” Cozy shrugged.

Starlight returned to her pad and jotted down ‘shortsighted’ and ‘God complex’.

“Well, let's put a pin in that for now, shall we?” she said, deliberately keeping her tone soft. “Why don’t you tell me how the buckball went with Scootaloo?”

“Ugh,” the Pegasus grumbled. “I’ve never understood sports. I mean, really, why? What is the point exactly? To see who’s the best at throwing a ball into a bucket? Please.”

“I take it you didn’t play then?”

“I just asked some, I thought, valid questions about why in Equestria we should want to play, and as it turned out a good number of the other students had similar questions. Go figure.”

“Right,” Starlight murmured, whilst scribbling the word ‘manipulative’ down. “So, you...incited a coup?”

“If that’s what you want to call it.” The foal sneered. “I was just pointing out the futility of it all.”

“Uh-huh.” Starlight monotoned. “So then, no buckball. Did you at least manage to make some progress in your potions class?”

“Ah, now that one isn’t even my fault.” Cozy grinned. “If your students are too dumb to know that ammonia plus bleach equals mustard gas, then frankly, they deserve everything they get.”

“M-mustard gas?!” Starlight spluttered, dropping her pencil.

“If anything, you should be thanking me,” Cozy snickered. “I provided a valuable life lesson. That filly won’t make that mistake again.”

“Was anypony hurt?” The headmare demanded.

“How should I know? That meat-head of a Dragon emptied the room before anypony had a chance to think.”

Starlight quietly breathed a sigh of relief before retrieving her pencil, and using to write and underline the word ‘psychopathic’.

“Actually, he was pretty rough with me when we got into the corridor,” Cozy continued with a drawl. “I think you should strongly consider taking him off the payroll. That moron’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

“Well, considering that you could have killed somepony, I’d say that that was justified,” Starlight growled, finally unable to keep the rage out of her voice.

“Ahh!” Cozy mock gasped. “I thought I was supposed to be treated with compassion and understanding until I recant my evil ways!”

The filly’s voice was deliberately sugar-coated and foal-like. Starlight set her pad to one-side, discreetly note side down and leant forward in her chair.

“Why don’t we cut the garbage Cozy,” She muttered. “Twilight and I – everypony on this project, for that matter – want you to be reformed. To be allowed to have a normal life. You should be kissing our hooves for this opportunity. Why are you fighting it?”

“You want to cut the garbage? Fine.” Cozy spat, sitting up on the couch, a fury of her own burning in her eyes. “You think I’m an idiot, but I’m not. I know how many times Discord’s gotten away with betraying Twilight, and he never sees any punishment. Yet I simply try to make things a little more equal around here, and I get thrown in Tartarus, and then turned to stone.”

“Discord spent thousands of years in stone, as I recall,” Starlight countered.

“Phss, yeah, from the dinosaurs Celestia and Luna,” Cozy hissed. “Hardly surprising from those two. But there’s a new Princess in town now. What, it only takes Sparkle ten years to realise that I might just have been treated the slightest bit unfairly, and I’m supposed to be thankful? Bite me, Glimmer.”

Starlight reared up in her chair. Her face was a scowl, but she found herself unable to come up with an adequate retort.

“I have nothing to gain from this project, and very little to lose.” Cozy continued. “I’m here because it’s mildly preferable to being a piece of architecture. If you think I’m going to make this easy on any of you, you’re very much mistaken.”

Starlight took a deep breath, and suppressed her fury as best she could.

“Twilight is very sorry for what happened to you, as am I. We want to heal the damage that was done to you as best we can, but we can’t do that without your help. I can see you’re not ready for that yet, and that’s fine. Until you are, we’ll just keep doing this.”

“Whatever.” Cozy snorted. “Smells like Sparkle trying to alleviate her own guilt to me.”

Starlight sighed, and reached for her pad once more.

“Why don’t we talk about your life before you appeared here at the school for the first time, hmm?”

Cozy threw her head back in a loud laugh.

“Oh, I don’t think we’re there yet, Glimmer.” She guffawed. “Besides, I fail to see how my past could be of any intrigue to you. I have absolutely zero interest in yours.”

Now it was Starlight’s turn to chuckle, albeit mirthlessly.

“Well, you might, if you knew how I first met Twilight.”

Cozy raised an eyebrow.

“Would it surprise you to learn that years ago-”

Starlight was interrupted by the sound of the office door opening, or rather, more accurately, the soft ‘gloop’ noise that it made as it penetrated the magical barrier.

“Eww, ew.” Trixie commented as she pushed herself through the spell, the gelatinous turquoise magic clinging to her mane.

“Trixie!” Starlight whined unprofessionally. “I’m right in the middle of a session here! You couldn’t have knocked?!”

“I did!” The blue Unicorn protested. “There was no answer.”

Starlight clapped a hoof to her eyes. Of course. Soundproofing. Instinctively, without really thinking what she was doing, she flashed an apologetic look towards Cozy. The Pegasus in turn raised an amused eyebrow.

“Anyway, I just need to pick up my ledger that I forgot,” Trixie breezed, making a bee-line for the desk. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

“Trixie...” Starlight grumbled.

“Hey Cozy.” The blue Unicorn winked at the foal, before beginning to rummage in one of the desk drawers. “Don’t you worry. Starlight’ll have you making friends with the best of them before you know it.”

“Goody gumdrops.” Cozy replied flatly.

“Trixie!” Starlight repeated, more forcefully.

“That’s the spirit!” Trixie responded to the Pegasus, apparently completely missing the sarcasm. “Now, where did I leave it...?”

“TRIXIE!” Starlight shouted.

“What?” The counsellor replied obliviously. “Oh, here it is.”

She scooped up the ledger from where it lay in plain sight on Starlight’s desk and cradled it to her chest with one hoof.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got what I needed, I’m gone, I’m gone.” She smiled at the thoroughly amused Cozy and the seething Starlight as she headed back for the door. A second ‘gloop’ noise later, and her words became true.

“I’m so-”

Gloop.

“Oh, and good luck with the session!” Trixie’s head stated encouragingly from where it had poked back through the spell.

“GET OUT!” Starlight raged.

“Yeesh, alright, alright, I’m really gone now. Rude.” The Unicorn pouted, her sullen face retreating from view. Gloop.

Starlight glared at the door for several seconds before turning back to Cozy.

“I’m-” She paused to glare at the door again, just waiting for her maddening friend to reappear. When she didn’t, she continued. “I’m sorry about that, Cozy. I should have locked the door.”

It didn’t feel great, apologising to Cozy during their first session, but what was she to do? She’d just told the foal that this was a ‘safe space’, for crying out loud. Luckily, it didn’t seem to have bothered the Pegasus. On the contrary, it seemed, if her expression was anything to go by, that she was having a grand old time.

“She seems nice,” The filly grinned. “What did you say her name was? Dixie?”

“Trixie.” Starlight corrected, massaging the bridge of her nose with a hoof-tip.

“Trixie, right,” Cozy confirmed with a tap of her hooves. “I vaguely remember her from when I was here the first time. She’s your friend?”

“For my sins, yes.”

“Hm,” The Pegasus chuckled. “So, tell me, how long ya been in love with her?”

For a second, Starlight froze, hoof on nose. No way. No possible way. How could she know that? She hadn’t told anypony that. Tartarus, she’d only admitted it to herself a couple of days ago! The foal was bluffing, she had to be. Just throwing mud at the wall to see what stuck. She’d scored herself a lucky shot with that one, no doubt, but it could be mitigated if Starlight

Just

Kept

Cool.

“I’m sorry?” The headmare said, carefully blending a mix of incredulity and faint amusement into her expression. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. What makes you think I’m in love with Trixie, of all ponies?”

“Oh, bravo!” Cozy clapped. “You’re doing an excellent job of pretending not to know what I’m talking about. Really, well done. That’d fool pretty much anypony. But not me.”

Starlight shifted gears on her expression, now settling on faint exasperation, even as the first twinges of a blush began to invade her cheeks. How? How was this foal doing this?! Had Twilight blabbed? No, no, how would she have, as the Princess had only spoken to Cozy while she’d been there, and why, what could possibly be gained by such an action? Was there magic at play here? Again, how? Starlight hadn’t sensed any, and besides, the foal couldn’t even perform spells, let alone-

“Now you’re desperately wracking your peanut of a brain wondering how I knew, right?” Cozy’s chuckle became a laugh.

Starlight almost blurted out a defiant ‘NO!’ but bit the word back.

“Well, let me enlighten you, Glimmer,” The foal boasted smugly. “I may not have any magic, but one thing I’ve always been good at is reading ponies. It’s pretty easy when you know what to look for.”

She paused for dramatic effect.

“Your pupils dilate when you look at her, you moisten your lips more often when she’s around, you get the faintest of blushes when she looks at you...it’s subtle, but it’s definitely there. It’s hardly advanced magical theory.”

Starlight wanted to say something in protest, but her mouth appeared to have dried up. She cursed her mutinous body.

“So let me guess:” Cozy continued to showboat, “you haven’t told her, right?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” The Unicorn managed to force out, but damningly, her words didn’t sound convincing, even to herself.

“Yeeeeah, except, here’s the thing: we both know that’s not true.” The foal elongated. “Tell you what, I could tell her for you!”

Starlight forced herself to shrug aloofly.

“Since I have no feelings for Trixie beyond platonic ones, I don’t think there’s much to be achieved by doing that.” She sniffed.

Cozy’s grin turned icy.

“I was going to give you a week’s grace, Glimmer.” She hissed. “Keep lying to my face and I’ll tell her the first chance I get.”

Starlight felt a chill of fear in her stomach as she realised, finally, that she wasn’t going to be able to talk her way out of this one.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked coolly. “What are you getting out of this?”

“Well, honesty is one of the cornerstones of friendship.” The Pegasus responded in her syrupy sweet foal voice. “Isn’t that one of the things that Sparkle’s always saying?”

Starlight found no witty retort within grasp of her mind. She could only grip her pencil tight enough to make it snap, whilst burning through the foal’s face with imaginary eye-lasers.

“Besides,” Cozy continued, bouncing excitedly on the sofa, “a girl’s gotta get her yuks around here somehow.”

There was a long, tense, silence.

“I think we’ll leave it there for today.” Starlight growled.

Hours later, Starlight was still in her office, pacing up and down over her long-suffering carpet, occasionally catching a glimpse of her worried reflection in her windows. It was dark outside, so the only thing that could be seen in the panes was the room and herself. She paused and regarded the reflection.

Was it just her, or did she suddenly look very small in the cavernous office?

She abruptly broke off her gaze. Whatever, this wasn’t helping. She strode to her desk and levitated her coffee mug to her lips. Black, no sugar. Just the kick she needed. The liquid could no longer be described as hot, but it was at least still warm enough to be drinkable.

Day one, and already Cozy Glow had her over a barrel. She once again went into scenarios and possibilities for how to escape the rancid foal’s bullying. Her first thought was to just prevent the pair from ever being able to speak, but that just wasn’t feasible. Cozy Glow had to have the run of the school according to Twilight, so it would be simplicity itself for her to find a quiet moment to corner the counsellor. She could try making up some sort of excuse to give to Trixie as to why she needed to avoid the Pegasus at all costs, but she didn’t want to lie to the gorgeous mare, and besides, in love with her though she may be, she wouldn’t trust Trixie to guard a snail.

No, no. That wasn’t fair. Trixie was her friend. Her best friend. The best friend she’d ever had. When it really came down to it, she was caring, kind, funny and brave. Starlight had never told her so, but she really admired her in many ways. Like how she didn’t let anypony stop her from speaking her mind, or how she absolutely refused to suffer fools.

It’s just that she wasn’t always reliable or predictable, that was all.

The headmare bit at her already well gnawed lower lip as she just imagined the dream she’d had about her. If only Twilight hadn’t interrupted...

No, no! This wasn’t helping either! There’d be plenty of time to get lost in fantasy land later, if that was what she really wanted to do. Right now she needed ideas, action plans, and she was going to get them, even if it meant drowning her brain in stale coffee.

Okay, there was no way to guarantee that Cozy and Trixie wouldn’t find time to talk. What was her next best option?

She could tell Trixie to not believe a word the foal says. ‘She’s been threatening to spread lies about me, Trixie, don’t fall for it’. That could work. It wouldn’t exactly be a tough sell; it was in keeping with Cozy’s character up to this point.

But...that would require lying to Trixie, wouldn’t it? Loathed as she was to admit it, there was a kernel of truth in the little goblin’s words earlier. Honesty was a cornerstone of friendship. And if she wanted to be ‘more than friends’ with the Unicorn, then she didn’t want the first step in that direction to be marred with a great big fib.

Starlight drained her mug, praying that the caffeine would make it through her knotted stomach. Well, realistically, that only left one avenue, didn’t it?

Gah, this was so confusing! She’d almost told Trixie about her dream the other night, for Tartarus sake! Why did it seem so much more unpalatable now that Cozy Glow was attempting to force her hoof? The Unicorn paced around her desk and flopped herself into her chair.

While she was on the subject of Cozy, was it true that she could just ‘see’ things like that? Or was the horrifying truth she was obvious about her feelings? Could everypony see what Cozy saw?

Starlight rested her elbows on the desk and dug her hoof-tips into her temples. She glanced to her new blackboard. Earlier, after Cozy Glow had left to go and be toxic somewhere else, Starlight had briefly re-arranged the office. She didn’t have the inclination to remove the couch, so she simply placed it parallel to the desk. She figured that Spike and the Crusaders would be grateful of it later. She’d also moved her new board to its permanent home, where the old one had been, and while she did so she’d added what she wrote on her pad during Cozy’s session on the board, as though the enlargement of the words would bring clarity, or else reveal something that she didn’t already know. As of yet, they hadn’t. She read through them again, slowly.

Feels Victim of Injustice

No Remorse

Shortsighted

God Complex

Manipulative

Psychopathic

Now that she’d read them again, trying really hard to absorb them, it seemed to the Unicorn that there was something about them that was bothering her, she just couldn’t quite put her hoof on what, exactly.

A light tap at her door roused her from her musings. With a sigh, and a final rub of her eyes, she turned her attention away from the board and towards the front of the office.

“Come in,” she called, tiredly.

Spike slumped into the room, closely followed by three equally dejected crusaders. Starlight directed them to the sofa, which the girls sunk into gratefully, whilst Spike took one of the spare chairs, perching on in in his usual reverse manner. All four looked like they’d been dragged through Tartarus. Starlight realised that that was most likely what she looked like too.

“Mondays, am I right?” The headmare cracked.

All four snorted joylessly, and Starlight began the task of hearing each of their verbal reports. Once she’d secured the room with the usual soundproofing spell, she heard all of the crusaders out, with Spike adding relevant details here and there. Once the three teachers were finished, Starlight asked the Dragon if he had anything to add, and he reproachfully admitted that he’d grabbed Cozy by the scruff. Starlight nodded, understanding.

“I apologised to her straight after.” He said, regretfully.

“If’n ya ask me, ya got nuthin’ ta apologise for,” Apple Bloom said darkly. “Ah was ready t’buck her inta next week.”

“Be that as it may, you did the right thing by apologising, Spike.” Starlight cut in gently. “We need her to trust us, and we don’t want to be hoofing her ammunition to use against us.”

The Dragon nodded, his face etched with frustration.

“I know it’s going to be tough, but I’d like all of you to do your best to reign in your tempers while she’s around. It looks like she’s going to be doing her best to get rises out of all of us, so don’t give her the satisfaction.”

Starlight glanced between the four faces. She knew that that sort of treatment of Cozy couldn’t be tolerated, monster or not, but even so, she just didn’t have the heart to scold Spike. He looked like he’d had the most miserable day of his life. Besides, if she knew the Dragon, he was internally beating himself up more than her words ever could.

“Yeesh,” Sweetie Belle piped up. “I thought I had it bad today, but hearing your guy’s stories makes me feel like I got off lightly.”

Spike, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom all either nodded or cocked their heads, weighing up her statement. None disagreed.

“How about you, Starlight?” Scootaloo asked. “Was she a nightmare for your one-on-one session too?”

“You could say that,” Starlight sighed.

“What happened?” Spike inquired.

“Oh, I just got a lot of tenuous justifications, bluster and threats,” Starlight half-truthed. While she was determined to be open and honest with her staff, there was no way she was revealing the Trixie thing. Not yet at least.

“Threats?” Spike repeated in a concerned tone. “Is that something we need to worry about?”

“Nah,” The headmare exclaimed with a wave of her hoof. “She’s all talk. This is about the extent of the notes I made during the session.”

Starlight gestured to the blackboard. Her staff took a moment to scrutinise the writing.

“Yep, I’d agree with all of that.” Spike grumbled.

“Unfortunately, it’s precious little that we didn’t already know.” Starlight lamented. “The real question is, where do we go from here? We can’t have another day like today.”

“We could...”

“Um...”

A silence descended upon the office for a moment or two, until it was broken by Spike.

“Could we...” he murmured, “now, this might sound a little crazy, but hear me out, give it a chance, but could we, just, y’know...fling her in the ocean?”

The Dragon’s words hung in the air for several glorious seconds, before the ponies present erupted into laughter. Spike himself cracked a smile, taking considerable pleasure in having shattered the tension in the room. Starlight was face down on her desk, pounding on it with one hoof, while the Crusaders were all three doubled up on the couch.

“Can’t...breathe!” Scootaloo cackled.

After the titters had died down, Starlight spoke.

“Seriously though,” she said, wiping a tear away with the back of her hoof, “I think we need some help. Maybe it’s time we brought in a consultant.”

“A consultant?” Apple Bloom echoed. “What d’you mean?”

“Well, I said at the start of this project that we could bring in other ponies onto the staff if we needed them.” Starlight replied. “Somepony with skills relevant to what we need.”

“Right!” Sweetie Belle grinned. “Somepony who can really get inside Cozy’s head!”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Starlight said thoughtfully. “The only question is, who?”

She looked back to her team, and saw a quartet of blank faces. The headmare shook her head, her eyes dropping to her desk.

“Ok, ok, let’s think about this,” she trudged on with renewed vigour. “What we need is somepony who knows what makes other ponies tick, you know? Somepony who’s able to spot her manipulations.”

“Somepony who knows what it’s like to wield power over others?” Spike offered.

“Yes, yes!” Starlight prompted.

“Somepony who really understands social hierarchy?” Scootaloo ventured.

“Uh-huh!”

“Maybe somepony who used t’be a bully?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Right!” Starlight clapped her hooves. “Does anycreature know anypony like that?”

There was a brief silence, during which Spike, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom furrowed their brows in thought. Meanwhile, Sweetie Belle’s face was illuminated with inspiration.

“Well, there’s always...” She began. The others looked to her imploringly.

“What?” Starlight demanded. “Do you know a Pony?”

“Oh, I think I know who you’re talking about!” Scootaloo interjected.

“Me too!” Apple Bloom squeaked excitedly. “But...does anypony even know where she is now? Ah haven’t spoken to her in moons.”

“Who’re we talking about?” Starlight asked in bemusement. Her question elicited a shrug and an uncertain look from Spike, but went ignored by the Crusaders.

“Don’t you girls read the paper?” Sweetie Belle cried, her excitement growing.

“The sports section.” Scootaloo shrugged.

“Ah only really like the funnies,” AB smiled sheepishly.

“Girls...” Starlight said, once again feeling compelled to touch a hoof to her temple.

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes and reached inside her saddlebag. After a second of rummaging, she produced a newspaper, which she unfolded and passed to the other Crusaders.

“Here. Look.”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo crowded around the publication, their eyes scanning the front page.

“Oh, thank Celestia,” Scootaloo breathed. “She’s still local.”

“She’s running for office?!” Apple Bloom exclaimed.

“Umm hmm.” Sweetie Belle confirmed triumphantly. “Ever since Mayor Mare retired last year it’s been a bitterly fought race.”

“Huh. Good for her.”

“Girls!” Starlight snapped. All three of the Crusaders shut up and gave the headmare their full attention.

“Just WHO are we talking about here?!” Starlight slammed her hooves on the desk, unable to conceal her impatience.

None of the mares replied, but Sweetie Belle reached over to the desk and hoofed Starlight the newspaper. The headmare accepted it, and the room fell quiet once again as she spent several seconds scanning the article.

Eventually, she looked up, and hoofed the paper to Spike. As the Dragon read, she turned back to the Crusaders.

“Do you think she’ll do it?” She asked, a twinge of excitement entering her own voice.

“Ah reckon so,” Apple Bloom grinned. “She kinda owes us one.”

“And she’s a good as you say?”

“Oh yeah,” Scootaloo interjected, leaning back in the sofa. “She made our lives miserable for a while when we were in school.”

“Good, good,” Starlight smiled, before she realised what she was saying. “Well, I mean, not good that she made your lives miserable, just good that...you know what I mean.”

Scootaloo smiled, waving her hoof to dismiss the headmare’s awkwardness.

“Do you think you girls could pay her a little visit tomorrow?” Starlight asked, leaning over the desk.

“Absolutely,” Sweetie Belle replied with a smile.

“Okay, great.” Starlight chuckled. “You three do that, Spike, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to be on Cozy wrangling tomorrow.”

“What?” Spike started, looking up from the paper. Then the Unicorn’s words sank in.

“Ahhhh, okay.” He groaned. “Will do.”

“We’ll keep her out of regular lessons. Just keep her in the library, or her room, or take her on a nature walk, whatever, I really don’t care, just keep her busy.” Starlight rattled off. “I want to talk to Twilight in the morning, but I’ll take her off your hands at some point in the afternoon so you can get a break.”

“Thank you,” The dragon responded gratefully.

“Right then.” Starlight rose from her desk. “Today has been Tartarus, but at least we have a plan for tomorrow. Unless anycreature has anything else...?”

She paused just long enough for all four of her staff to shake their heads.

“Good.” She said finally. “Thank you all for today. Dismissed.”

And there you have it. A detailed chronicle of our first rotten day with Cozy Glow. I’ll get you the details on our potential consultant in tomorrow’s report, we should know by then if she’s willing to help us or not. Starlight was a little vague about how her counselling session went, I have no idea what ‘threats’ were made. I recommend talking to Starlight herself if you want more info on that.

Let me know if you have any questions or recommendations, though, if you do, please save them until the morning. I’m exhausted. Until tomorrow’s report, your ever faithful assistant and brother, signing off.

Spike

In the dimly candle-lit room, the Dragon tightly rolled up the absurdly long parchment, breathed out a plume of green fire, and within seconds it was reduced to ash.

Author's Note

I know I say this every time, but sorry this one took so long. It's been tough finding time to write this past couple of months. As always, comments and constructive criticism are welcome, and thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed.

11. If the Princess of Friendship Does it, it's Not a Crime

Author's Note

Something a little different this time around. After the slog that was chapter 10, I thought I'd treat myself to a cute, fluffy, rom-com-y, funny (hopefully), short chapter. This one doesn't have too much to do with the main plot, so if this type of thing isn't your bag, feel free to skip. For those of you who do read it, thanks very much.

11. If the Princess of Friendship Does it, it's Not a Crime

The realm was dimly illuminated by thousands upon thousands of small white orbs, each one giving off a pale glow. In the deep midnight blue of the dream scape, it was like nothing so much as walking or floating through a night sky, the orbs as erratically placed as the stars.

Of course, Twilight Sparkle had seen it all before. In the early days of her taking on the role from Princess Luna, the sight of the dream realm filled her with awe. Then, as was the way of things, she became accustomed to the sight, though still occasionally moved by its quiet beauty. Now though, having walked the void for years, she found herself viewing it with nonchalant apathy, as it meant only one thing.

Work.

Twilight walked silently between the floating orbs, her hooves making no sound on the ground. Not that there was a ground to make a sound on, of course. The Princess had long since given up trying to decipher how physical movement translated into a non-physical space. Either she moved where she wanted to, or where she wanted to be moved to her, it was one of those. That was the trouble with the dream-realm. It didn’t exist very much.

Neither did Twilight, not here at least. Physically, she was curled up in the middle of her giant bed, among numerous cushions. The casual observer might mistake her for being asleep, but she wasn’t, at least, not really. It was just that her soul, essence, consciousness, whatever you wanted to call it, was somewhere else.

Specifically, it was here.

The Princess lightly gripped Spike’s rolled up report in a wing and tapped it thoughtfully against her lips. The report didn’t really exist here either, but Twilight had found in the past that objects, or even sometimes creatures, manifested themselves in the dream realm, if they were weighing heavily enough on her mind. She’d read and re-read the document earlier in the evening, and even now, it was tucked under the wing of her physical body, waiting to be read again when she came around.

It sounded like they’d had a nightmare of a day. Her dream duties temporarily forgotten; she wondered if she’d been too quick to dismiss some of Starlight’s ideas from her original plan. Twilight was used to second guessing herself though; the goal of the project was redemption, and that hadn’t changed. She truly wanted to give all three of them the best shot at it she could, and that meant taking a few risks. However, when she made her reply, she intended to recommend, demand even, that from now on Cozy wasn’t to be left alone with other students. She dreaded to think what might have happened in that potions class if Spike hadn’t been on the ball. She still stood by her decision to give the three some time to themselves, but she wouldn’t sacrifice the safety and wellbeing of the rest of the student body for it. She wondered what a fitting punishment for Cozy might be. How do you reprimand a foal who had, and seemingly feared, nothing?

The Princess pursed her lips. Revoke her library privileges? As horrifying as that sounded to Twilight herself, she strongly doubted that it would mean much to Cozy. She aimlessly stalked the void for a few more steps, contemplating. With a sigh, she pushed these thoughts aside, and allowed the parchment to fall from her grasp, where it faded from existence. There’d be time to think about all that later. Right now, she had duties to attend to.

She paused by a nearby orb, lightly caressing it with her dorsal feathers. Inside she saw a faint outline of what was happening inside. A lime-coloured foal in a party hat was embracing a gargantuan chocolate eclair that stretched off into the horizon. The Princess chucked lightly at the scene, even if it did mean that now she was hungry for eclairs.

Tearing her eyes away from the delightful, if mouthwatering dream, she rolled her eyes closed and cast her mind out across the length and breadth of the realm, searching for a discordant note in the symphony. Before long she found one, one that's emotional resonance was out of key with the rest. A bad dream.

Opening her eyes, she willed the offending orb to her, and as she watched, a tiny red dot in the ocean of stars came zipping its way to her at an impossible speed. Had this been a physical place, the orb must have travelled hundreds, if not thousands of miles in just a few seconds to get to her, but again, it wasn’t. She willed the orb to hover just in front of her face, and raised an eyebrow as she sampled the feelings coming off it.

Existential dread, fear and despair, with just a smidgen of humiliation thrown in. A classic nightmare. As she watched, the red of the orb darkened to a deep scarlet. Whatever was going on in there, it was getting worse. She lightly touched the ball with her wing as she had the previous orb, but found that this one had darkened to such a degree that she could barely make anything out.

With a frown, she activated her magic to glean some more information. First of all, who did this dream belong to? If it was a foal or an adult, that might give her some more information as to what she might be walking into. Her senses told her that this was an adult’s dream. That was good, fully grown Pony nightmares tended to be much more banal than foals’. It could well be that some poor soul was trapped in school, sitting down to an exam they hadn’t studied for again. A little more ferreting, and she managed to conjure up a cutie mark. The surface of the orb flashed with white light that crawled over the red and coagulated into lines, forming the picture of the dreamer’s mark.

Oh dear.

It was a mark that the Princess instantly, and unfortunately, recognised. A magic wand with a star shaped tip against whisp of night sky with two twinkling stars. There was no mistaking the cutie mark of the Great and Powerful Trixie.

Twilight bared her teeth as a wince pulled the corners of her mouth back. Well now, this was awkward. Aside from Cozy Glow, now that she was back in the land of the living, Twilight was hard pressed to think of a psyche she’d be less welcome in. She tapped all four of her hooves in mild panic while she considered what to do, all while precious seconds ticked by and the orb grew steadily darker. On the one hoof, Trixie hated her guts, and would in no way thank her for viewing her most private of involuntary thoughts. Additionally, there was the added complication of Twilight knowing about Starlight’s feelings for the mare, and her suspicions about Trixie’s. What if what she saw in the dream had some kind of connection to that particular can of worms?

Twilight danced fretfully in a small circle while she agonised over what to do. She’d be neglecting her duties if she didn’t intervene, right? She couldn’t just send the orb back to where it came from and pretend she never saw it, could she? Sure, she was the guardian of sweet dreams, but it wasn’t all that uncommon for the odd nightmare to slip through. She was just one Alicorn, after all. She couldn’t be everywhere at once. The Unicorn would get over it, she was an adult. Bad dreams happen sometimes, that’s life. Deal with it.

The orb began to blacken, a sign that dream-death was coming, closely followed by a harsh and rude return to the waking world. At the sight of this, Twilight’s expression hardened, her mind made up. Like it or not, Trixie was a (mostly) loyal subject of the Kingdom of Equestria, and as such deserving of all the rights of any other member. As Princess, duty came first. Fortunately, she’d picked up quite a few tricks since she took over the job from Princess Luna, so with a little luck, she’d be able to get in and get out without Trixie ever knowing she was there.

Twilight willed the orb towards her and it slowly obeyed, Trixie’s cutie mark still emblazoned on its nearly pitch surface. The buckball sized dream floated closer, and the Alicorn closed her eyes as it connected with her horn.

When she opened them again, she found herself in a dark and smoky club. There were numerous circular tables populated by rough looking stallions and mares, all swilling booze from pint tankards or bulbous wine glasses. Many of the patrons of the club were smoking, their lit cigarettes forming tiny red pinpricks in the gloom of the establishment. The stench of stale beer and tobacco was almost overpowering, and Twilight began to feel dirty by even being there. Luckily, none of the ponies seemed to have noticed her arrival in the middle of the room, or even acknowledge her presence now that she was there.

She looked around quickly. There was no discernible entrance or exit; no discernible walls for that matter; where the tables stopped there just seemed to be darkness in all directions. The only exceptions to this were a barely lit bar at one end of the ‘room’ that had several ponies slumped over it while a surly stallion bartender appeared to be cleaning glasses with his own spit, and at the other, a brightly lit stage with deep red back curtains that shone in the gloom.

Throwing a look of disgust in the direction of the bar, Twilight instead turned her attention to the stage. It was certainly the focal point of the dream, being much more visible and tangible than the rest of the surroundings. The Princess felt a pang of sympathy for Trixie; Sweet Luna, was this the type of place she’d regularly have to perform in back when she was a travelling conjurer? It explained so much. Speaking of Trixie, there was no sign of the Unicorn just yet. The stage was completely vacant save for a lone microphone on a stand, and tall rectangular object covered by what appeared to be a silk sheet.

Right then, first thing was first. Before Trixie inevitably showed up, it was time for Twilight to bust out her first trick, and one that she was particularly proud of: incorporeality. With a smile and a close of her eyes, the Alicorn concentrated for a moment. When she opened them again, they no longer existed. Nor did the rest of her body, she was now a swirling mass of invisible consciousness that mingled with the cigarette smoke. One might have thought that this loss of a physical form would be terror inducing, but Twilight, having done it many times before, found the sensation strangely liberating. She extended her essence to fill glasses and drift under tables, feeling out the dream, taking in each sensation like a scientist recording data. One of the advantages of being in this form was that she now had a three-sixty-degree view of the room at all times, which was another talent that she prided herself on. At least now Trixie wouldn’t be able to detect her presence, though in this form the Princess wouldn’t be able to completely alter the dream’s trajectory, not without pulling herself together, so to speak. That being said, she still should have the ability to make some small, subtle changes.

However, there still didn’t seem to be sign of the Unicorn. Where was she? And where was that looming threat of dream-death coming from? The answer had to be tied to the stage, somehow.

No sooner had this thought occurred to her than the satin curtains parted, and a stallion in a purple sequined jacket and tie emerged from the darkness beyond. His mane was blonde and slicked back, and as he approached the microphone, he flashed an impossibly white smile to the disinterested crowd.

“Good evening, good evening, good evening, ladies and germs,” He spoke in a polished, fake, showbiz voice, “and welcome to the Skullduggery club.”

He paused as a faint titter was elicited from the crowd.

“It’s sure good to see so many of you out here tonight,” he continued, strutting about the stage. “I tell ya, I’ve had it rough. I’ve spent years looking for my ex-wife's killer...”

He paused for comedic effect, a smarmy grin playing about his face.

“...but I can’t find anypony who wants to do it!”

There was chorus of laughter from the crowd. If Twilight had had eyes at this moment, they would have damn near rolled out of her skull.

“Thank you, thank you,” The MC crowed obnoxiously. “I’m here all week. I tell ya folks, we have show for you tonight!”

The audience cheered with limited enthusiasm.

“And ‘sides, even if we don’t, you all know the club rules, don’t ‘cha?”

There was a collective and more engaged ‘Yeah!’ from the crowd. Twilight was beginning to see where this dream was headed.

“What do we give to Ponies who don’t put on a good show?”

“Death!” came the collective answer. Twilight attempted to gasp with no body. Okay, maybe she hadn’t seen where it was headed. It explained why the orb had been turning black though.

“That’s right!” The show Pony cried gleefully. “What do they get if it starts off well but then trails off towards the end?”

“Death!”

“Right again! What do they get if we aren’t completely mesmerised every second they’re on stage?”

“Death, death, DEATH!” came the awful chant.

“You’re on fire!” The MC shouted, sliding to the object covered with a sheet. With a single tug, he pulled off the silk, revealing a full-sized guillotine underneath. The crowd roared. Twilight wished she had a hoof, and a face she could clap it to. Well, that explained that.

“Now then, without further ado, please welcome onstage our first act!” The MC announced. At his words there was a light cheer from the audience, and the curtains behind him parted once more. Predictably, Trixie emerged from the shadows, dressed in her usual stage outfit; a starry robe and hat. Her body language, however, was not her usual over-confident one. Her eyes were aimed at the floor, and it seemed she was struggling to smile. One of her forelegs nervously clutched the other.

“The Great & Powerful Ditsy!” the announcer boomed, pausing before each word for emphasis.

The crowd remained deathly silent. Somewhere in the room a cricket chirped.

Trixie made her way to the mic, a trip that seemed to take an agonisingly long time.

“Actually...um, it’s...it’s the great and powerful Trixie...” She said in a timid voice that was missing all of its usual bravado.

“It really doesn’t matter, doll.” Came the disgusting reply, as the MC slimed his way off the stage.

Twilight found herself feeling deeply sorry for the Unicorn. Obviously, this was an exaggerated dream, conjured up by her mind to cause the maximum discomfort, but it wasn’t coming from nowhere. The performer must have done gigs that were at least comparable to this.

Twilight continued to watch, silently willing the mare to overcome her fears and fight back, put on a great show, and dismiss this part of herself that wanted her to suffer back to the subconscious. If she did, Twilight might be spared the trouble of having to step in. Come on, Trixie, do what you do best...

“H-hello, ladies and gentlecolts,” The magician stammered into the microphone. “For my first trick tonight, I’d like...like to...”

She trailed off, apparently distracted by something going on at the back of the club, near the bar. She raised her hoof to shield her eyes from the brutal spotlights and squinted. Her breath visibly caught in her throat.

Twilight followed her gaze and found that it led her to one of the rearmost tables, where she saw-

Oh, for Celestia’s sake.

Twilight was positive that they hadn’t been there before when she arrived. Trixie’s anxious brain must have placed them there while the Princess’ attention was focused on the stage. The Alicorn cursed herself for not having noticed.

At one of the tables at the back of the room, now strangely illuminated (for this was something that Trixie’s mind obviously wanted her to see) sat a dream version of Starlight, alongside a dream version of none other than herself, Princess Twilight Sparkle, ruler of Equestria. The two seemed to be very cozy together, holding hooves, giggling and looking into each other’s eyes, ignoring everything else around them. It gave Twilight (the real Twilight) a strange feeling to see Starlight run her hoof through her doppelganger’s wispy mane and plant a light kiss on her lips.

Meanwhile on stage, Trixie’s mouth hung open, and tears formed in her eyes as she visibly became choked up.

“DEATH, DEATH, DEATH!” The crowd began to chant.

Well, that tore it. Now she’d have to intervene. She employed another trick in her arsenal, and slowed time down to a crawl, providing herself with valuable time to think. The MC was caught in slow motion, rushing to the stage, no doubt to drag Trixie to the guillotine and summarily execute her. What was she supposed to do now? She couldn’t very well just show up as herself, Trixie would never forgive her, and would no doubt hate her even more than she already did.

No, no, there was only one mare who could help the Unicorn now, and she was at the back of the room canoodling with, well, her.

Having said that...dreams seldom made sense, did they? A pony could be in two places at once, couldn’t they? Twilight’s essence cackled to itself as she realised that if she just made a few alterations, then Trixie’s sleeping mind should easily accept the changes and carry on.

The Princess quickly drifted to the stage and wafted under the curtain. Unsurprisingly, back here everything was dark and ill-defined. Here she coagulated her incorporeal form into a solid shape once more, but not her usual Twilight body; she formed herself into the shape of Starlight Glimmer.

With a smile, she added a gold sequined leotard to her form, with little matching ra-ra skirt. That was the sort of thing magician’s assistants usually wore, right? She briefly willed a mirror into existence, and checked herself out.

Hmm. The face and body were fine, indistinguishable from the real thing, but the mane wasn’t right. She’d somehow given this Starlight a fringe, just like the Unicorn had had when they first met, and like how Twilight herself used to have. With a frown, she willed some length into the front of the mane, and watched in the mirror as it cascaded down her face and turned up in the slightest curl at the tip. She brushed it into place with her hoof. Perfect.

Twilight, now masquerading as Starlight, dismissed the mirror from reality, and carefully planned her next move. For the next part of her scheme to work, she’d need to restore the ordinary flow of time to the dream, and that meant she’d have only a scant few seconds before the show Pony was on Trixie. That was fine; a second or two would be all she’d need. She conjured a wand that was identical to the one that featured in the Unicorn’s cutie mark into her hoof, and snapped time back to normal. She willed a voice to echo around the entire club.

“Ladies and Gentlecolts,” it boomed, “Please welcome to the stage The Great and Powerful Trrrixie’s glamourous assistant, Starlight Glimmer!”

There was a chorus of cheers as Twilight parted the curtain and stepped onto the stage. Trixie whirled around in shock, her mouth hanging open.

“St-Starlight?!” She spluttered. “I thought...I thought you were...”

“You know I wouldn’t leave my best friend hanging,” Twilight smiled. “Here. You’ll need this.”

Twilight bowed low, offering up the wand to Trixie the way a knight would offer her sword to a queen. Trixie accepted it, a wonderous look slapped on her face.

“I’d use it on that low-life if I were you.” Twilight smiled, nodding in the direction of the side of the stage.

The Unicorn turned in the direction she indicated, and saw the horrid stallion scrabbling up the steps and lunging towards her. Without thinking, the magician waved the wand in his direction, and cried out the first vaguely magical thing that entered her mind.

“Teacup!” she shrieked, and though Twilight had to think fast, as this wasn’t what she’d been expecting the performer to shout, she did an excellent job of willing the stallion away, and a teacup and saucer into being at the exact same moment.

The crockery fell to the stage floor, where it shattered into thousands of tiny pieces. The audience gasped, before erupting into riotous applause and cheering. Trixie took the opportunity to hug her friend.

“But...but I saw you with Twilight,” She practically shouted into the Princess’ ear to be heard over the crowd.

“Twilight?” Twilight raised an eyebrow, her smile still shining. “You didn’t seriously think that was me, did you?”

Twilight pointed towards to the back table. Trixie once again held her hoof up to the light and squinted to the back of the room.

Twilight wanted to make this dream a happy one. She wanted Trixie to have a dream that she could treasure. If that meant humiliating herself for Trixie’s amusement, then so be it. She was the guardian of the dream realm, and as such above such trivialities. She’d only had a moment to come up with the most embarrassing romantic partner she could think of and swap them out for the dream Starlight, but still, she thought it had worked rather well.

A little too well, if the truth be told. She meant no disrespect to Cranky-Doodle, but it was probably safe to say that the image of herself with the Donkey’s tongue in her mouth while she ran a hoof through his toupee that unsurprisingly fell off his bald head, was one that would haunt the Alicorn for the rest of her days.

“HA!” Trixie shouted, her face a picture of gleeful relief.

“Come on,” Twilight said softly, tearing her gaze away from the distressing scene going on at the back of the club. “We’d better put on a good show if we’re going to walk out of here.”

“You’re right!” The magician replied, starting to sound like her old self.

Over the course of the next half hour or so, Twilight and Trixie did indeed put on a good show. Trixie was able to float around above the stage, and even out over the audience, she managed to catch an arrow in her teeth fired from a bow by her glamorous assistant, and was even able to guess whatever any given member of the audience was thinking. Of course, it was all foal’s play when Twilight could literally bend reality to her will. The crowd ‘ooh’ed and ‘ahh’ed in all the right places, and at the end of each trick they practically shattered the wine glasses with their cheering. At the last peal of applause, Trixie turned to her supposed friend.

“We need a big finisher,” she spoke out of the corner of her mouth, her attention and smile focused on the crowd.

“Hmm.” Twilight said thoughtfully. “What about that?”

She gestured to the imposing guillotine that still lurked at the edge of the stage.

“T-that?” Trixie spluttered. “S-starlight, that’s not one of my tricks. That’s real.”

“Phsss, you’re the Great and Powerful Trixie.” Twilight grinned, while waving to the seated Ponies. “You’ll make it work.”

“Yeah...” Trixie replied uncertainly, before a look of defiant confidence crossed her features. “Yeah!”

“And now, for her final trick this evening, the Great and Powerful Trixie will defy death itself!” Twilight had the announcer loudly exclaim, “This magic is highly dangerous, so please remain silent, and DON’T. TRY. THIS. AT. HOME.”

Despite the words, there was a gasp from the crowd as Trixie dragged the cruel device centre stage. For her part, Twilight just kept smiling and struck a theatrical pose, reared up on her hind legs, her front hooves one above the other, gesturing to the magician. Once the guillotine was in position Trixie began the arduous task of pulling the heavy sloped blade to its top position by the rope and pulley. When it was raised as far as it would go, Twilight raised the lunette, and was about to place her head inside when Trixie spoke up.

“Are you sure about this?” She grunted fearfully, straining against the weight of the blade.

“It’ll be fine,” Twilight grinned as she lowered the lunette down upon her neck. Once it was firmly in place she threw the blue Unicorn a sly upward glance. “Just as long as you remember the magic words.”

“Oh, um, right...” Trixie replied reassuringly.

Twilight simply suppressed a giggle as she discreetly made a small portion of her neck intangible. She didn’t necessarily trust the magician’s grip on the rope, and there was no room for mistakes. Once she was satisfied that the blade would pass harmlessly through her, she mentally commanded an ominous drumroll to reverberate around the room. The Ponies in the room sat on the edge of their seats, none dared breathe.

“Hocus pocus, um, around the bend, er, please oh please don’t let this hurt my friend!” Trixie announced.

The drumroll came to an abrupt stop. Trixie let go of the rope. The blade swiftly fell into its housing with a loud ‘thock’. The crowd audibly gasped.

Twilight would have been lying if she said there hadn’t been a tiny, mean-spirited part of herself that didn’t want to allow her head to be parted from her shoulders at this particular moment, just for the sheer devilment of it. However, that was a thought that was unbecoming of the guardian of the dream realm, and far from conducive to Trixie’s mental well-being and pleasant dreaming, so the Princess supressed it down as far as it would go. Instead, she kept her head exactly where it was supposed to be, and flashed her most winning smile to the audience, waving her forelegs from behind the guillotine to prove that, yes, she was indeed still alive and well, head somehow still attached. Trixie stood stiffly frozen, her face contorted into a tense, fearful grin. When she saw that Starlight (who she believed to be Starlight, that is) was okay, she slowly let out a sigh of relief. It was only then that she seemingly remembered that she was onstage, and she looked out across the club. For a moment, everything was deathly quiet.

“Um, ta-dah?” The magician said timidly.

The crowd went insane. Cheering, whooping, standing on chairs, standing on tables, even. Dozens of flowers were hurled up at the pair as Trixie began hoisting the blade back up again. Once it had reached its full height, she held it fast, whilst Twilight carefully extracted herself from the executioner’s machine. Once the Princess was out and upright once again, she made a show of rubbing around her neck with her hoof, more to disguise the fact that she was returning it to its usual solid-state than anything else, but it did make for some good post-trick showponyship.

She and Trixie embraced in a quick hug before they took centre stage facing the crowd, and in unison, each holding the other’s hoof, reared up on their hind legs and bowed low to the audience.

“Thank you, thank you!” Trixie cried happily into the microphone. “The Great and Powerful Trrrrrixie accepts your adoration and applause!”

She turned to her assistant and bowed her head to her, which Twilight returned.

“Now, please take the roof off the club for Trixie’s daring and gorgeous assistant, Starlight Glimmer!” The magician continued proudly.

Twilight smiled widely, but her brow furrowed ever so slightly. Gorgeous, huh? Interesting. Very interesting.

The Princess didn’t have time to dwell on this latest bread-crumb that had been hoofed to her concerning Starlight and Trixie’s relationship, as at that moment the Unicorn stepped away from the mic and embraced her once more.

“Thank you, Starlight.” She whispered into her ear. “You were wonderful.”

“Nah,” Twilight smiled, tentatively placing her hooves on Trixie’s shoulders. “That was all you.”

Suspecting what she suspected about how Trixie felt towards Starlight, in hindsight, Twilight supposed she should have seen what happened next coming. There was a reason one wasn’t supposed to go galivanting around in dreams disguised as somepony else, and this was one of them. Twilight had broken the rules, and she was about to pay the price.

Trixie parted their hug just long enough to give Twilight a look into her dilated, half-lidded eyes, before the Unicorn placed one hoof around the Princess’ waist, one around her shoulders, bent the Alicorn over backwards and kissed her passionately on the lips.

The sounds of the starstruck crowd ringing in her ears, Twilight could do nothing except open her mouth in shock.

This, as it turned out, was a mistake.

The last thing the Princess heard was the crowd chanting ‘Trixie, Trixie, Trixie!’ before in a blind panic she abruptly ended the dream and was rudely ejected back into the collective unconscious, where she immediately fell over on her back. For a good few undignified seconds she turtled on the not-exactly-floor, all the while hacking, coughing and generally blowing raspberries, desperate to get the taste of that out of her mouth.

“Phtttttb,” she commented. “Ptttthhhhb, ugh, oh Celestia, phhttttbbb-bb.”

Well, she supposed she got what she deserved. Her friends had warned her to not go messing around with matters of the heart, but oh no, she was the Princess of Friendship, and she just had to go poking around in Trixie’s nightmare while dressed as Starlight.

Why hadn’t she just gone in as herself and changed the whole scene? Was she that afraid of Trixie that she couldn’t bear her ire? No, that wasn’t it. It was far more likely that she simply couldn’t resist sticking her nose into a mystery, even when it was a personal and private one of a close friend. Now she had Trixie’s dream-saliva all over her mouth, and she was safe in the knowledge that she had nopony to blame but herself.

Rising to her hooves and dusting herself off of dust that didn’t exist, she looked around. The orb had vanished, meaning that Trixie had woken up. She had no idea if she’d gotten away with it or not. She tapped her hooves nervously. Oh well. She supposed, that if she hadn’t, she’d hear about it soon enough.

Filing the whole affair away in a mental compartment marked ‘Things we take to the grave’, Twilight mustered all the dignity she could, and continued on her nightly patrol.

Far away, in the waking world, in a little caravan just outside the School of Friendship, a certain blue Unicorn was roused from her slumber. She sat up in her hammock, blinked her bleary eyes, and wiped the drool off her lips with the back of her hoof.

“Aw,” she said to the darkness. “That was just getting good.”

12. Diamond is the Girls' Best Friend

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!