Governing Forms Governing Forms Governing Forms
Bonbon didn’t sulk. She was a professional. Semi-retired, sure, but she still had standards. “Did you really have to volunteer for Princess Twilight’s ‘Friendship Corps’?” She glanced out of the train window as the landscape zipped by, uncomfortably reminded of many missions that had begun with a trip by rail. The window blacked out as they went into a tunnel.
Lyra, the beautiful fool, just shrugged and smiled. “I’ve wanted to do more with her ever since she left me out of the whole Moondancer thing. Extending the hoof of friendship to the rest of the world wasn’t my first choice either, but she’s a bit too busy these days for Trivia Trot.”
That got a shudder. “I’d almost rather face the bugbear again.”
“Um, Bonbon?" Lyra glanced around nervously. "I thought you worked for the Secret Monster Intelligence League of Equestria.”
“The car’s empty, Lyra. Not a lot of ponies going to Mustelia.”
“True. Kind of makes you wonder why there’s even a train line there.”
There were a lot of things about the railways that ponies might wonder about. Bonbon didn’t mention any of the truths behind them; Lyra had been exposed to enough the few times S.M.I.L.E. had dragged Agent Sweetie Drops back into active duty, and Provisional Agent Heartstrings along with her. “Well,” she said instead, “it’s right next to Mustangia, and even the Mustangs can’t carry everything on hoof. Especially not for international trade.”
“I guess. You think they even get their mail mixed up?”
“According to Ditzy Doo, more often than you’d think.”
Lyra grinned as they left the tunnel, and Bonbon’s heart lightened along with the world. Then Lyra looked at the window and gasped in wonder. “Bonnie, look!”
She did as the capital unfurled itself around her. For all she’d seen and done, she had to admit, Mustelia City was an impressive sight. At least a dozen different architectural styles passed by in seconds, culminating in the harbors curling around the brilliant blue of Lutri Bay. As the train chugged to a stop at the portside terminal, she caught a brief glimpse of the governor’s mansion on the other side of the water, sitting on a hill and capped with an onion dome that wouldn’t have looked out of place among the towers of Canterlot.
Lyra’s eyes tracked all of the creatures milling through the station: otters, badgers, minks, and more, in such variety that it would take Fluttershy to identify all of them. But they could never be mistaken for the caretaker's charges; these were nearly as tall as ponies when on all fours and as intelligent as any other thinking race in the world. “It will be neat getting to meet strange new creatures,” said Lyra.
Bonbon rolled her eyes. The moment of wonder was nice while it lasted, but somepony had to be the realist in this diplomatic party. “We’ll be meeting politicians. They can’t be that different.”
“Oh come on. Not everycreature in politics is a weasel.”
“Welcome, my friends, welcome,” said the weasel behind the governor’s desk, smiling wide and wearing a three-piece suit like an immaculately tailored tube sock with sleeves. “I trust you have found our hospitality to your liking?”
After a beat, Bonbon glanced at Lyra. Going by how her face had gone from mint to beet red, she was trying not to laugh at her own accidental joke. “We have, Governor Cleverclaw,” Bonbon said for her. “I can’t say I’ve experienced such diversity in a single city before. It’s like seeing Princess Twilight’s dream for Equestria made real.”
“Ah, you flatter us, ma’am. I cannot claim credit for it. I am but the latest humble servant the people have chosen to guide what our forefathers created when they came together. Much like what the Mustangs have said about your own tales of the three tribes of ponykind." Cleverclaw's smile widened. "Being able to meet with Equestrian representatives directly should be a delight.”
“It’s not a problem that we came because a princess asked us to?” Bonbon resisted the urge to kick Lyra. For all she loved about her wife, the mare didn’t have a subtle bone her body.
Going by Cleverclaw’s laughter, Twilight had already accounted for that. “Demanding that others adopt democracy when they choose not to would be quite the hypocrisy. No, I don’t see that becoming a barrier to our nations’ developing bonds, Ambassador Heartstrings. Certainly not with such charming representatives.
“But I’m sure neither of you want to discuss politics just after a long train ride. We’ll have plenty of time to talk shop in the coming days. By all means, rest and recuperate. Feel free to explore. They say Mustelia City has a new wonder to find around every corner, and I’m inclined to agree.”
Bonbon recognized a dismissal when she heard one. “Certainly, sir. Until tomorrow.”
Lyra waved as they left. “Bye, your gubernatorialness!” she called as she closed the doors behind them. A bit of polite laughter filtered through before they shut completely.
After a sigh, Bonbon gave her a weary look. “Lyra.”
“Come on, Bonnie, he laughed." Lyra tilted her head back, smugly high-stepping her way through the mansion's halls like she was reenacting fillyhood dressage classes. "And he thinks we’re charming.”
Bonbon rolled her eyes. “There’s charm like a foreign dignitary, and then there’s charm like a precocious foal who doesn’t know any better.”
“I like to think of it as being in touch with my inner filly.”
“Call it what you like." Bonbon scowled. "There’s still something… off about him.”
Lyra shook her head, still smiling. “Not everycreature has ulterior motives and agendas.”
“He’s the leader of a nation. He absolutely has ulterior motives and agendas.”
“Twilight doesn’t.”
Bonbon held back another sigh as they entered the foyer, decorated with banners and portraits that were no doubt very historically significant. “Twilight’s agenda is filling the world with friendship. Most aren’t that nice.”
“Then let’s help the one that is! Time to go around some corners and find some wonders!” Lyra sprinted off, making the badgers standing guard at the mansion's entrance flinch.
“Lyra!” Bonbon sighed and followed after her. “This is why I married her.”
As she left the grounds, Bonbon feared she might have to scour the city for Lyra. Instead, she found her at a street cart directly in front of the mansion, where a polecat was selling candied cashews.
“Bonnie! You’ve got to try these! They’re almost as good as yours!”
“Ahem,” said the nut seller.
“She’s my wife,” said Lyra. “Everything she makes is the best.”
The polecat nodded, mollified. He held up another bag. “Care to try some, ma’am? Your wife talked me into a ‘diplomat’s discount.’”
The brief flash of panic and continued analysis of Cleverclaw meant Bonbon didn’t even have the spare energy to scold Lyra for that stunt. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
Lyra frowned for a moment, then shrugged. “More for me!”
That set the tone for the next hour as they milled around the area near their hotel. (The location of the Equestrian embassy was one of many topics they were set to discuss with Cleverclaw’s own diplomatic staff once the summit began in earnest.) Lyra would find some new delight being offered by a smiling, furry noodle, Bonbon would pass on it, and Lyra would praise it as nearly being equal to her beloved’s sweets.
Somewhere around the fifth round of this, as Lyra crumpled up a little paper cup that once held sorbet, she frowned and said, “Seriously, Bonnie, what’s wrong? Usually you at least want to try something to get ideas for your own recipes.”
“I didn’t exactly bring candy making equipment on this diplomatic mission. Besides, you were going to order fried crickets two streets back.”
“I hear they’re a good source of protein.” After a beat, Lyra sighed. “You’re still trying to figure out Governor Cleverclaw’s angle, aren’t you?”
“Like I said, it’s a diplomatic mission. Even if we end up forging an alliance that lasts until Twilight passes the crown on to some future student of hers, I still want to make sure his angle aligns with ours.”
Lyra groaned. “I got enough of that in Advanced Transmutative Geometry. Come on, he said we should take the rest of the day to relax." She swept a hoof across the city and all the food carts it contained. "At least try one of these snacks.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten since before we got on the train.”
“I can’t—” Bonbon cut herself off, considering all the eyes on them. “Can we at least wait until we get to our room to talk about this?”
“You can’t eat when you don’t trust the chef.” At least Lyra said that quietly enough that the onlookers couldn’t hear it. “Because you don’t really see this as a friendship mission. It’s a monster fight with more talking.”
“Lyra—”
She faced away from Bonbon and started to walk away. “Go on ahead to the hotel.”
Bonbon started after her. “Lyra, wait!”
“I think we both need some time to cool down." Lyra's dull tone would've been enough to stop Bonbon in her tracks even without the actual words. "I’ll see you soon. Maybe bring you dinner.”
Bonbon let her go. This was far from the first time one of them recognized they both needed some time to themselves. That was part of how their relationship had stayed so healthy. But it still hurt when it happened, especially when she knew she was the one responsible for it.
She trudged her way back to their hotel, deaf to whatever the marten at the front desk tried to tell her. With a sigh, she leaned on the door to the room and fished through her saddlebags for the key.
Then she stumbled as the open door swung back under her weight.
Bonbon twisted, turning the momentum into a brief charge into the room itself, coming eye to eye with a wolverine going through her luggage.
They stared at one another for a few seconds. Bonbon’s gaze darted to the wolverine’s front claws, clutching a jar filled with green fire. He used the momentary distraction to toss it and lunge at her, jaws open wide.
She spun, bucked him in the face, and left him embedded in the wall. This wasn't her first wolverine, and this one wasn't the size of a house and also made of bees.
A crunch banished any momentary satisfaction. Bonbon turned just in time to see the dragonfire briefly flare on the windowsill before burning out.
She sighed, then looked back at the intruder. “And we’re not getting back the security deposit.”
“If yer lookin’ for an apology,” the wolverine coughed out, “you ain’t gettin’ it, bub.”
“An apology? No.” Bonbon stalked towards him, head down, able to see his desperate wriggling from his shadow. “I want answers.”
After a round of barely enhanced interrogation—“He ain’t payin’ me enough for another kick,” the wolverine had said—Bonbon raced back to the governor’s palace. The worst part of the gallop wasn’t worrying about Lyra, though that came close.
No, the worst part was that every creature she passed was still smiling at her. And with every one that went by, the expressions felt less and less like signs of happiness and more like predators baring their teeth.
The gates to the mansion were easily scaled with the grappling hook Bonbon kept in her mane for grappling hook emergencies. (Even those confectioners who weren’t former secret agents were still very close to party ponies.) From there it was a matter of outmaneuvering the guardbadgers and racing back to the office of the one responsible.
“You really need to calm down, Bonnie.”
What she found there made her whole meticulously planned assault collapse. Cleverclaw was still there, yes. But all but draped around his shoulders was a mint-green weasel with a stub of a horn barely poking out from her forehead. The lyre mark was still on her hip, but Bonbon dared not guess how long that might be the case.
One of the badgers stormed in and pinned Bonbon to the floor. She barely noticed. “What did you do?”
Curse him, Cleverclaw still kept smiling. “Strictly speaking, I did nothing. I am but a servant of the people’s will. If the street vendors chose to lace their carts with a transmutative agent that acts on other mammals, brings them closer to the ideal, well, such is also their will.”
Bonbon rolled her eyes. She'd hoped the villain revealing himself would mean an end to the diplomatic doubletalk. “Fine. Why did they do it?”
“Because ours is the ideal form. The truth from which many others are but…" Cleverclaw looked at Bonbon like she was a bag of wet, moldy sugar. "Divergences. Flawed experiments. We merely correct evolutionary folly." He gave a fond smile to his living stole. "Isn’t that right, my dear?”
Lyra made a peculiar squeak. “You’re funny.”
Bonbon’s heart sank. “But—”
“Don’t worry, my dear. A good meal and you’ll see the truth yourself. After all—”
Bonbon never heard what might be after all, because Lyra chose that moment to hit Cleverclaw and the badger with powerful enough stun spells to drop both of them. “Thinking that a graduate of Princess Celestia’s School couldn’t handle a few potion microdoses? Especially after all that training I did to resist suggestions after Cadence’s wedding? You’re hilarious.” A brighter flare of golden magic and Lyra was back to her beautiful self.
Unicorns. Bonbon never could get used to them.
“Now,” continued Lyra, “unless you want to be the punchline, you’ll let us go back home and we can put this whole mess behind us.”
Cleverclaw gave a weak gurgle, eyes darting about the room.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Twilight sighed, slumping on her throne. “Well, I suppose it could have gone worse. You might not have come back. Still, I do wish we could have resolved this without anycreature getting hurt.”
“We had no choice, Your Highness,” said Bonbon.
“I recognize it was in self-defense. It’s just sad to see.” A small blackboard wrapped in magenta glow floated to Twilight’s side. She began drawing out equations that made Bonbon’s eyes water. “It may take generations before this ‘mustelification’ idea works its way out of Mustelia’s zeitgeist.” She looked back up. “Still, thank you, both of you. We'd have never known about it otherwise. If you want to leave the Friendship Corps, I completely understand. Lyra and I can find something to do that won’t put both of you in mortal peril.”
Lyra stuck her tongue out at her sovereign. “Relax, Twi. I had fun.”
“You would.” Bonbon shrugged helplessly. “I suppose we’re both still in, if you’ll still have us, Your Highness.”
Twilight smiled. “I’m always happy to have more friends.”
Back home, so late it was early, Bonbon slid sideways out of bed, every ounce of her stealth training put to use to keep Lyra from noticing. In her kitchen, she tilted over the wastebasket, opened the false bottom, and extracted a hoof mirror embedded with shells and seed pearls. As she looked into it, the surface glowed an ocean blue. “Report,” came an eerie voice, not produced by any equine throat.
“Our agents have successfully infiltrated Mustelia City," Bonbon said dully, conscious mind still asleep. "They are prepared for the grand revelation, and the world will not be united against us by the time we rise. But I can only do so much against Princess Twilight.”
“Worry not, Agent. There are others who scuttle alongside you. We will call you when you are needed again. All will be crab.”
Bonbon nodded, her unblinking eyes glittering like black pearls in the mirror’s liquid light. “All will be crab.”
Author's Note
Parsing the chapter title: The act of governance creates official documentation that dictates body shape.
My Clark Kent-level cunning disguise for the original entry was referring to Best Pony as "Muffins." I'm sure the judges suspected nothing. Never mind Horizon having to pointedly tune out several folks, myself included, as we energetically compared notes while still in the writing room.
And yes, this was all an elaborate, twofold convergent evolution joke. I also considered ideas like political drama at Sweetfeather Sanctuary or human Fluttershy discovering the truth behind the governor of Califoalnia manipulating the Rainbooms through his pet weasel, but ended up going with my first idea. Could not for the life of me get away from the idea of literal weasels. I blame Bloomburrow.
