After what was a quick trip for somepony with wings, the ponies at Sweet Apple Acres witnessed a green haired pegasus in a turtleneck sweater (or “divvy” as her wife said it), land in the dirt yard in front of their house.

“Huh, what’s that pegasus doin’ here?” Granny Smith remarked. Big Mac hadn’t seen her before either.

The pegasus walked up to the door and knocked. The door opened, and she was greeted by Big Mac.

“Can ah’ help you ma’am?”

“Well, sort of. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Scootaloo’s aunt—Aunt Lofty.”

“Why hey there Mrs. Lofty!” Applejack called from inside. “Come on in!”

Big Mac widened the door and she trotted in. She saw Granny Smith getting up from the dining room table and Applejack seated at the head of it. “What’s the occasion?”

“Hi Applejack,” said the mare. “I heard you were sick.”

“Oh. Well, yeah kinda.” Applejack rubbed her foreleg. “It’s no big deal, just had me some nausea this morning and…other stuff. Nothin’ you need to worry about!”

“Well, Applebosom was pretty upset.”

Applejack and the others perked up their ears. “Applebloom?”

“Uh-...*ergh*!” Lofty realized her mistake. “Yes-Applebloom! She was really worried about you. She yelled at her friends and started crying. Apparently it’s getting in the way of you guys getting ready for the festival or something?”

“Oh,” said Applejack, “well ah’ had no idea she’d take it so hard. We were planning to make a chili together later-anyway.”

“Well hey, that’s why I’m here. Holiday and I got the idea that you - I mean you’re all probably busy around here anyway - but you could stay here, and we can take care of your groceries!”

“Really? Gee,” AJ rubbed the back of her head, “ah’ wouldn’t wanna be a bother!”

“It’s not a problem! The Crusaders are helping too!”

“Well that’s mighty fine of y’all. Tell you what, Granny…” Applejack turned to the old mare, “What do you say to havin’ a couple of guests over for dinner tonight?”

“Hey now! I don’t wanna cut in on your time with…” Shoot! I forgot it again, “your sister.”

“Now-now,” Applejack pulled out her chair and walked around the table. “If y’all are gonna make me feel bad for acceptin’ yer generosity, it’s only fair that ah’ do the same.”

Lofty’s normally chill demeanor faltered. While Applejack was sitting, she looked perfectly fit and muscular. But now, without the table in the way, Lofty could see she had a noticeably rounder stomach. She couldn’t respond at all for a few seconds.

“She’s gotcha there filly! No backin’ out now!” Granny misinterpreted the source of Lofty’s surprise.

“...Um, well I…guess we’ll see you tonight then.” Lofty managed.

“Great!” said Applejack. She then walked over to the kitchen. “Ah’ll getcha the recipe!”

Applejack reached up to open one of the cupboards. She couldn’t quite reach it without straining, and when she tried to rear up it strained her even more. Her belly pushed against the counter.

Lofty couldn’t bear to watch. “I got it!” The taller pegasus pulled up on the counter. “Which one?”

Applejack reluctantly sank to her hooves, and sighed. “Apple Family Recipes…”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders were sitting together at Scootaloo’s kitchen table. Applebloom drew on a sheet of paper with a pencil and a set of crayons Holiday had given her. Sweetie Belle took a bite of one of Aunt Lofty’s famous cookies.

“Wow!” she said, “These ARE the best!” Sweetie’s mom was a baker, so that was saying something.

“Told ya’!” Scootaloo smirked. Her Aunt Holiday appeared behind her and tapped her shoulder.

“Scootaloo,” she asked, “can I speak with you for a moment?”

“Okay, sure thing.” Scootaloo hopped down from her chair, and Holiday took her into the adjacent guest room.

“What’s up Aunt Holiday?”

Aunt Holiday shut the door. “Scootaloo,” she said, “can you tell me what’s wrong with Applejack?”

“Um…” Uh, oh. Quick, try not to look like you’re lying! Reluctant—go for that! She twiddled her hooves and looked away, “Honestly…I don’t know.” She smiled shyly.

Holiday raised an eyebrow, “You ‘don’t know’?”

Now angry. “Hey, I just found out right before you did! I didn’t know Applejack got sick anyway! Ask Sweetie Belle or something, I don’t know!”

“What were her symptoms then?”

“Um…something about vomiting, something about her crying, getting tired.” Think out loud, that’s good!

“And if I asked Sweetie Belle herself?” Holiday narrowed her eyes.

“She’d say something more, maybe, but I don’t know for sure.”

“Scout’s honor?”

“Scout’s honor!”

Aunt Holiday gave her one last, long, look. “Alright, brumby.”

The door to the guest room opened again, and Aunt Holiday received Sweetie Belle. She asked her the same question, the answer was similar.

“Well, to be honest ma’am, I don’t think Applebloom knows for sure. We just know that she’s sick. You’d have to ask Zecora.”

“Zecora?”

“Yeah, she gave Applejack a checkup. All I know is that she said Applejack vomited a few times, and she got really tired running an obstacle course; which doesn’t really sound like Applejack…”

“Huh,” Holiday was a bit confused. Sweetie Belle’s answers came quite easily, but Holiday was still a little skeptical. “Okay. Well, I’ll be sure to check in with Zecora then.”

“Yeah…” Sweetie Belle knew bait when she saw it, “maybe then we can know if we should be worried or not.” Fortunately for her, Mrs. Holiday didn’t know how manipulative Sweetie Belle could be if she wanted.

After Aunt Holiday had let them both loose, the Crusaders excused themselves upstairs to gather their things. Scootaloo shut the door behind them, then looked at Sweetie Belle.

“You didn’t tell her anything did you?”

“I just told her I didn’t know anything and neither did Applebloom, so she should just ask Zecora what’s wrong.” Sweetie replied.

“Ha! Well then it’s a good thing I told her to ask you! That was some pretty good lying back there Sweetie!” Scootaloo turned to Applebloom. “So what’s our plan?”

“Ah’ don’t know what we’re gonna do.” Applebloom picked up from the first question. “Ah’ mean how do you get ready for a baby?”

“We’ll figure it out, Applebloom.” Sweetie reassured. “And I’m sorry I got so excited before, but I really do think that this book-” she withdrew it from under the bed, “-will have a lot of answers!”

“Until Twilight takes it back…” Applebloom sulked.

“Well, seeing as how Sweetie Belle seems so interested,” Scootaloo suggested, “why doesn’t she hold on to it? You can be our ‘pregnancy expert’.”

“Hmm, Twilight’ll still be lookin’ for it…Ah’ got an idea! But ah’ll need a spare saddlebag! Scootaloo…” she pointed, “get us some of yer aunt’s threads! Sweetie Belle…” she pointed, “ah’m gonna need yer sewin’ skills!”

Back at the campground, Pinkie Pie had shared the “good news” with Fluttershy and Screwball. Fluttershy’s mouth fell open in stunned disbelief, while Screwball’s face lit up with a giddy smile

“I KNEW IT!” Screwball exclaimed. She made a little jump and buzzed in the air with her propeller hat.

“Really?” Fluttershy said in disbelief.

“Probably!” Pinkie chirped.

“Wait, you mean you don’t know?”

“Not really, but…why waste a good party?”

“But Applejack might be embarrassed, and don’t you have three other-?”

“I cancelled them! Now I’ll just throw one big birthday party—it’ll be even more special that way!” she gave a carefree smile.

“Well…don’t you also have to help with the festival?”

“I’ll pull a couple of all-nighters!” Pinkie waved her hoof dismissively. “I’ve done it before.”

Twilight’s ears laid flat as she stood between the two ponies. “It’s pointless Fluttershy, she’s made up her mind.”

Fluttershy looked down for a second, then spread out her wings. “How about I fly over to Sweet Apple Acres, just to know for sure?” she said nervously.

Pinkie was holding a letter in her forelock, not paying attention. “Sounds good, Fluttershy!” she passed the letter to a grey postmare. “Here, take this to Shining Armor and Cadence.”

“NO!” Twilight screamed as she helplessly watched Derpy fly away. She looked at Fluttershy, “GO! Hurry Fluttershy!”

Fluttershy took off, but then she looked back and saw Screwball following. “No Screwy, go back to the cottage and wait for me there. We’re going rat hunting in a bit.”

“Aw!” Screwy pouted, “Okay Mama…” They then split up.

Twilight turned back to Pinkie and cleared her throat. “Meanwhile Pinkie, the Mayor has put me in charge of overseeing the festival preparations, and you have work to do!”

“Wait,” Pinkie paused, “I do? But the carnival’s not even set up yet. How am I supposed to decorate it?”

“I…I have to approve your…plans!-For, decorations!”

“Really?” Pinkie raised her eyebrow.

“Yes!” Twilight blurted. “I have to approve of a bunch of other plans for the festival first, so you should prepare a presentation!” Twilight then raised her chin and said firmly, “I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Tonight? Oh geez!-I better get ready!” Pinkie frantically scooped up her things. “See you tonight Twilight!” She bolted away.

“Phew!” Twilight sighed, “That should buy us some time!”

Fluttershy circled the sky around Ponyville towards Sweet Apple Acres. She didn’t like to fly too high if she didn’t have to, and flew just above the treeline when she spotted Aunt Lofty heading in the opposite direction. They stopped in midair.

“Oh, excuse me ma’am!” Fluttershy called.

“Huh, yes?” Lofty slowed to a hover, and looked down to see the other pegasus.

Fluttershy flew up to her, “Pardon me, but did you just come from Sweet Apple Acres?”

“Yes, uh-hey! Don’t I know you from somewhere? You’re one of Applejack’s friends right?”

“Yes ma’am!-Fluttershy.” she said politely, “I was just on my way to see her right now, is she in?”

“Oh! Well…” Lofty rubbed the back of her neck, “yes, but she just put herself down for a nap. She wasn’t feelin’ well.”

“Oh!” Fluttershy exclaimed. “Well, is she okay?”

“She said she had some nausea,” ‘Nausea’? thought Fluttershy, “but she’ll probably be fine later.” Lofty gave a slight chuckle, “You know how it is!”

“Um…okay.” Fluttershy wasn’t sure what to say after that.

“Anyway,” Lofty excused herself, “it’s nice to meet ya’ Fluttershy, I’ll see you around!”

Aunt Lofty flew off towards Ponyville. Fluttershy stayed hovering for a few moments.

‘Just nausea’? she thought. Why would Applebloom think THAT was a big deal? I should’ve asked that mare some better questions, maybe then I wouldn’t have to bother Applejack!

At length, Fluttershy’s thoughts calmed. Oh well, I guess I should just wait and ask her tomorrow.

Aunt Holiday and the Cutie Mark Crusaders had arrived in the market square, and waited right next to town hall where Aunt Lofty could find them. Aunt Holiday kept a lookout for her, while the Cutie Mark Crusaders huddled around a crude-looking leatherbound book. Sweetie held it with her magic and read in a slight whisper.

“Okay, so the first thing a pregnant mare needs is open communication and a support network.”

“What’s a support network?” Applebloom asked.

“A support network’s supposed to be somepony, anypony they can talk to!-Or ask for help if they need it. Like her family, or a husband or wife. It seems like all she has is Zecora.”

“Well, Zecora’s a doctor,” Scootaloo said. “Maybe that’s enough.”

“Hey Applebloom, you said she’s been seeing Zecora for a couple weeks now right?” Applebloom nodded. “Maybe this whole time, they were doing all this planning and training you’re supposed to do when you’re pregnant.”

“But then why was she exercisin’?” Applebloom was a bit louder this time, “Ain’t that dangerous?”

“Actually,” said Sweetie Belle, “the book says pregnant mares should exercise. Just…not too much. And drink a lot of water. Maybe that’s why she threw up.”

Applebloom got a pensive look. Just then, they heard Aunt Holiday, “Oh, there she is, girls!”

Aunt Lofty spotted the group in the market square, and gingerly set herself down in front of them.

“Hey you!” said Aunt Holiday. “You got the list?”

“Hey-…you.” Aunt Lofty stammered, “Yeah, I got it.”

Holiday’s smile faded. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah-yeah. It’s just, uh…” Lofty’s eyes wandered, they lingered on Applebloom as she met her gaze.

Holiday took notice. “Is Applejack alright?”

“What? Oh no, she’s fine!” Lofty straightened herself up. “But…it looks like we’re going to Sweet Apple Acres for dinner tonight.”

“We are?”

“Yep,” Lofty gave her best smirk, “Applejack wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Really…? That doesn’t sound like her.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know. She just wanted to pay us back.” Lofty then addressed the white unicorn. “And if your sister, or mom, or whoever says it’s okay, you can join us too Sweetie Belle. Hope you like chili!” She then looked at the list, “with apples…”

Sometime later, the group had made their way to the farmer’s market. Lofty looked over the list.

“Now let’s see here,” Lofty said, “seems like your family’s all good on peppers, Apple...bow?”

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle swooped in, “APPLEBLOOM!”

“Okay-Okay!” she held out her hooves. “No need to gang up on me!”

Lofty resumed, “You’re also good for corn chips and salsa, I guess. So that leaves the question…” she looked over at one of the stands, “do you wanna make the tomato paste yourself, or do you wanna buy it at the store?”

“Well,” Applebloom considered, “we probably wanna do that for the cook-off, but since we’re havin’ guests tonight we can grab us some paste too!”

“Well then, let’s grab you some tomatoes now.” Aunt Holiday led them towards the stand.

Lofty kept reading the list, “We’re also gonna wanna grab some onions and garlic.”

They walked up to the stall of a Bitalian vendor. She looked remarkably similar to the panicked red mare who worked at Town Hall, just with an apron, a visor, and an RBF.

“Alright,” Holiday picked up a tomato and rotated it with her hooves, “let’s see here.”

“Hey lady,” said the vendor, “no freebies here—if you touch ‘em you take ‘em.”

“She’s just makin’ sure it’s fine.” Lofty said flatly.

“You think I’d be duh’ one and only tomato venduh’ on ‘dis street if my product was bad?”

Lofty got ready to speak when Holiday blocked her with her hoof, “Say, how many of these does it take to make tomato paste?”

“What am I? A recipe book?”

“That wasn’t even clev-” Lofty was cut off again by her spouse.

Holiday said brightly, “Just give us your best estimate.”

The vendor groaned and started doing the math in her head. She smashed an imaginary tomato with her hoof and measured it out into an imaginary cup. She multiplied it centimeter by centimeter, mumbling to herself. “About thirty tomatoes a pint.”

“Thirty for a pint?” Holiday exclaimed. “That’s not even a litre!”

“I-I guess not? Look lady, if you don’t like it go back to Trottingham!”

Holiday furrowed her brow, “I’m from Horstralia.”

“Actually Mrs. Holiday-!” Applebloom chimed in, “Ah’ think she’s right. Cause when we’re making applesauce, it only takes two apples a cup, but that’s ‘cause apples’re a lot thicker than tomaters’.”

“Oh! Well, good thing we have you here Applebloom!” Holiday smiled.

“So…yah’ gonna buy somethin’ or just stand there? Two bits for three tomatoes.” the vendor said.

“Two bits is outrageous,” Aunt Lofty stepped forward, “that’d be like…20 bits!”

“Dat’s how it is, lady. Take it or leave it!”

Aunt Holiday thought it over, “Well…”

The group walked away from the stall unburdened by tomatoes, leaving a sour red mare cursing up a storm.

“It’s fine y’all,” Applebloom assured them, “we can just buy it at the store.” She couldn’t hear their response, as both aunts were covering all the fillies’ ears.

One thing they were happy to get at a market stall was a few containers of whatever spices they were lacking: cumin, paprika, cinnamon; all they needed from the market now was the protein.

“Okay what are…‘portobello mushrooms’?” said a confused Lofty. “I thought this was supposed to be a simple family recipe. What’s wrong with good old tofu?”

“I think the point is that the mushrooms already taste like whatever meat they’re trying to replace,” said Aunt Holiday.

“Ick!” Aunt Lofty gagged, “You gotta wonder which brave pony figured out something was missing from his food when he hadn’t killed something for it!”

Lofty was joking, but the actual origin of meat substitutes was from different races, such as griffins and boars - influential to the culinary world - which produced individuals who were uncomfortable with eating once living things. Products like eggs and dairy were fine, because those were more or less given freely. But there were times when even ungulates like cows and ponies couldn’t get enough protein from grasses, and legumes weren’t available. That’s how you get snake stew being willingly consumed by ponies like Applejack.

“The real problem is, the only mushrooms I’ve seen at the market are the white ones,” said Aunt Holiday, “and I don’t even know where to find ‘portobello’ mushrooms!”

She glanced around the market, then spotted a stand made of dark timbers, decorated with monster teeth, glowing mushrooms, and what was either a mask or the skull of a creature hanging above the counter. Holiday recognized the keeper.

“Hey, why don’t we ask Zecora?” she pointed.

“Oh, so that’s Zecora!” Lofty blinked, not expecting the infamous witch-doctor to be a zebra. “Well, we should at least say hi.”

The Aunts walked towards her stand, but Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle stayed right where they were as they looked back at Applebloom. The poor filly’s ears and bow sagged, and she looked like she was about to throw up.

“Uh…Aunt Lofty, Aunt Holiday?” the Aunts looked back at Scootaloo’s call, “I think Applebloom needs a little break, you guys go on ahead!”

The mares exchanged glances. Aunt Holiday addressed the fillies. “Alright girls, just wait over at the bookmobile where we can see you!”

“We will!” Scootaloo called back. Sweetie Belle took Applebloom’s hoof and walked her towards the bookmobile.

When the Aunts were a distance away, the sick-looking Applebloom was the first to speak, “Ah’ just realized somethin’...”

Her friends looked at her.

“How is she gonna help Applejack if somethin’ bad happens, and she can’t get to her fast enough? That zebra lives in the middle of the woods!”

‘That zebra’? thought Scootaloo.

“It’s okay, Applebloom.” Sweetie Belle patted her on the back, “it’s perfectly normal to be scared.” Sweetie then smiled, “But maybe educating yourself will help you feel better about it.”

“Is that what the book says?” Applebloom said flatly.

“Yes…” Sweetie sheepishly lifted the book towards them, “but if it’ll help?”

Applebloom sighed, “Fine. Let’s hear it.”

Sweetie beamed. She put her arm around Applebloom, then opened the book and began reading. “Fact Number One: Most pregnancies are successful. Equestria has a 90% rate of successful births, and only 2.9 deaths per 100,000 births. And Applejack’s very healthy, that’s a big bonus!” She held the book up closer to Applebloom. “Fact Number Two: Pregnancy symptoms like morning sickness, can actually be a GOOD sign. It means that she has a strong immune system that is working to protect herself and the baby.”

“Ah, Mrs. Holiday, welcome to my store! Are there any goods that you wish to procure?” Zecora waved over Aunt Holiday and Lofty, then gestured at her wares.

“G’day Zecora!” said Aunt Holiday, “We’re actually looking for some advice. Oh, and I don’t believe you’ve met her.” Holiday grabbed her partner’s foreleg. “This is my wife, Lofty!”

“Hi. Pleasure to meet you.” Lofty said bashfully.

“And you as well,” Zecora said, “now what advice do you need me to tell?”

Lofty gave a confused look, Is she doing a bit or something? Why the rhyming?

Holiday explained, “Well we’re helping the Apples get the ingredients for a chili, with Applejack being sick and all. We’re supposed to get ‘portobello’ mushrooms for the protein. Do you know where we might find that?”

Zecora stroked her chin, “Hmm, portobellos are chewy, yet hard to get right. May I see the list just to gain some insight?-I’m a bit of a cook myself.” Holiday passed the list to her, Lofty had begun to inspect the different jars the zebra had on display.

Zecora looked up and smirked as she saw the green mare’s hoof hover over a green concoction, “Unless there’s some malaise that’s bugging you, I wouldn’t suggest having that kind of brew.”

Lofty drew her hoof back. “Oh no, I was just looking at it.”

At length, Zecora spoke to Aunt Holiday. “Well I knew, without reading, the answer to your situation, for this recipe, can I suggest one alteration?”

“Um, sure.” said Aunt Holiday

“Mushrooms of this sort are not sold this far north, and I notice that you’re serving fillies. Tongue mushroom won’t do, it’s not right for this brew, why not have maitake for this chili?”

“‘Maitake’? Where would we get that?”

“The Honnalese stand is where they’ll be found,” Zecora pointed down the street at a sizable tent with a sign written in kanji, “and if you tell them I sent you, you might get a discount.”

“Maitake…alright, well thank you Zecora! Maybe I should take something off your hooves just for that.” Holiday took out her coin purse. “Do you have anything I can use at our next campout?”

“Let me see what I’ve got,” Zecora turned around and combed through her stock.

“Um, by the way,” Aunt Holiday said tactfully, “the girls didn’t seem to know. What exactly is Applejack’s problem?”

Zecora froze for a second, her ears flattened, she dared not turn around.

“Um, well…I don’t want to break doctor-patient confidentiality,” she nervously scratched her foreleg, “but I assure you her problems aren’t one of mortality.”

“Is it just something embarrassing? Cause I think Applebloom should know, just so she feels better.”

Zecora furrowed her brow, maybe this wasn’t as easy on everyone as she thought. She then shook her head and turned around. “Look, Applejack’s just never been sick before. Applebloom may be upset now, but soon nevermore. She’ll get back on her hooves, in time she’ll improve. If assurance she lacks, leave it to Applejack.”

“Oh, okay…” Aunt Holiday was somewhat disappointed. This seemed oddly callous of the zebra, but Holiday wasn’t going to fight over this.

“Now, for your camping trip, here’s a bag of cedar chips you can buy for just four bits.” Zecora placed them on the counter. “Throw them in the fire for a better smell, and biting insects they will also repel. If you spread these around the site, they won’t be caught dead taking flight.”

“Ah, that should do nicely. Here you go.” Holiday placed the bits on the counter as Lofty placed the chips in her saddlebags. “We’ll see you around Zecora!”

The couple walked away, and just after they left Zecora began to greet another customer.

“Constable Bolo, welcome to my shop. What can I get our honorable cop?”

“Nothin’ far’ me thanks,” he said in his usual wary tone, “Oi’m actually here t’make sure ya’ got all yer permits in order…”

“Oh, I see,” Zecora went full deadpan, “this old song and dance. Well I’ll have you know, I got my papers well in advance.” She ducked behind her counter and produced the papers in question.

“Just doin’ moy’ job ma’am.” The stallion lifted the papers with his magic and looked them over. Despite his low helmet, she could read his weakening expression and got a smug look on her face. “Hmm, you may have the roight to set up shop, but do ya’ have the roight to sell pharmaceuticals?”

“I can sell potions, I talked with the mayor. My degree's good at home and it’s also good here.” From her saddlebag she withdrew a license and hoofed it to Bolo.

He read it and sighed, “Well, not sure how Oi’ feel about that slant rhyme, but, Oi’ guess everything’s in order. A little piece of advoice’ though?”

Zecora groaned, “How many times must I say it? It’s a mask, not a head!” She pointed to a horned white mask hanging over the counter. “It clearly depicts the god of the dead!”

“Not that, though Oi’ doubt it helps yer case much. Oi’m talkin’ about the lack of privacy yer customers get.”

“Privacy?” Zecora said, confused.

The officer fidgeted and looked over his shoulder. “Oi’ mean, since yer sellin’ a lot of personal products, maybe it would be noice’ if nopony else could see ya’ boyin’ ‘em. Then y’d have a lot more customers.”

“Oh…Well I could sell at night, but then I couldn’t walk back. The Everfree is dangerous when everything is black. Maybe I can make this an outdoor clinic, and Farasicanize it as my gimmick.” She then looked back at the Constable, and gave him a sly look. “The reason you’re here, you wish not to be known, whisper into my ear, I’ll bring the cure to your home.”

“What?” Bolo gasped. He turned away and blushed. “I don’t know what’cha mean!”

“Officer,” she said incredulously, “you expect to deceive me that you believed me not to have all the right papers? Since you made an excuse just to tell me the truth, why turn back at the end of this caper?”

Bolo bit his lip, and looked around to make sure there was nopony listening. He then leaned in and whispered into Zecora’s ear.

Her eyes widened in surprise, then softened in understanding. “Oh, I don’t have a potion for that.” Bolo simply hung his head. “I’m afraid the lone cure is exercise, or maybe hormones that a doctor prescribes.”

Daring tugged at the hem of the scarlet dress, its silk clinging uncomfortably to her frame. The golden bangles jingled on her hooves as she shifted her weight, trying to look casual.

“You look stunning,” the prince said, his eyes lingering a little too long.

Daring forced a tight smile. “And you’re as charming as I’ve heard.”

He chuckled, offering her his hoof. “Come, my lady. Let us enjoy the night.”

Daring hesitated, her mind racing. She needed the key he wore around his neck, but the way he held her gaze sent a shiver down her spine.

She placed her hoof in his and let him lead her to the dance floor. The music swelled, and the crowd’s attention drifted away. “Careful,” she murmured under her breath. “I bite.”

The prince’s grin widened. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Hey, can we skip this part?” moaned Applebloom. “This stuff’s always just boring…”

“What do you mean ‘boring’?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Ah’ mean this ain’t important—let’s just get to the next action scene!”

“But of course it’s important!” said Scootaloo, “She has to steal the key but that guy has it. Let’s just see where it goes!”

As they stepped into the center of the ballroom, Daring forced herself to move with the music, her hooves gliding across the polished floor. The prince’s hoof remained firmly on hers, guiding her in an annoyingly confident manner.

“You’re quite light on your hooves,” he said, his tone low and smooth.

“I’ve had practice,” she replied, careful to keep her voice light. Her eyes darted to the golden key dangling against his chest, glinting in the candlelight. It was close—so close—but snatching it in the middle of a crowded room would only blow her cover.

He leaned in, his voice barely audible above the music. “And yet, I get the feeling you’re not quite what you seem.”

Daring’s heart skipped a beat. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, don’t play coy,” he said with a soft laugh. “I can see it in your eyes—sharp, calculating. You’re no mere guest. You have a purpose here tonight.”

Daring stiffened, her mind whirring as she prepared an excuse, but before she could speak, he twirled her, pulling her back into a tighter hold. “I find that purpose… intriguing.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Flattery won’t get you far.”

“Who said I was flattering you?” His voice dipped lower, his tone almost predatory. “Perhaps I simply enjoy a challenge.”

Daring smirked despite herself. “Careful, Your Highness. You might bite off more than you can chew.”

The prince tilted his head, a gleam of amusement in his eyes. “I’ll take my chances.”

“See? Something’s happening.” Sweetie addressed Applebloom. “She’s gotta get the key, but this guy has her figured out.”

“Ah’ still don’t think we’d miss much,” grumbled Applebloom.

“I think this is kind of exciting. You don’t know what’s gonna happen next! What do you think, Scootaloo?” Sweetie looked at the orange filly, who was still staring at the pages of the book, and muttering the dialogue under her breath.

“Um, Scootaloo?” Sweetie tried to grab her attention. Scootaloo just turned the page heedless of her.

“Scootaloo!” yelled Applebloom.

Scootaloo pulled her head up from her trance. “Huh, what?”

“You turned the page,” Applebloom said flatly, “and you stopped readin’.”

“Oh! I’m sorry.” Scootaloo said. “Y-you didn’t miss much though, he just led her out to the balcony and she’s trying to grab the key.”

As he chuckled, Daring’s eyes flicked to the key once more. She reached up, pretending to adjust her earring, and brushed against the thin wire tucked beneath her mane. If all went well, she wouldn’t even need to touch him. She just needed to distract him long enough to snatch the key.

The prince’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Tell me, my mysterious lady—what would you do if you had the world in the palm of your hoof?”

Daring paused, caught off guard by the question. “The world?” she echoed.

He nodded. “Power, riches, influence—everything. What would you do with it?”

She forced a smirk. “Not wear dresses like this, for starters.”

He laughed, a rich, genuine sound. “Fair enough. But I’m serious. A pony like you—sharp, driven—you must have ambitions beyond mingling at parties.”

Her expression faltered for the briefest moment before she recovered. “And what about you, Your Highness? What do you do when you have the world?”

He smiled faintly, his gaze distant. “You look for somepony who can make it feel smaller. More meaningful.”

Daring’s chest tightened, and for a moment, she wondered if there was more to him than the charming, calculating façade. But she quickly shook the thought away. This was her mission, and no amount of smooth talk would distract her.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said coolly, stepping closer under the guise of leaning on the railing. Her hoof brushed against the key, and her heart leapt.

“Careful,” the prince said softly, his voice like silk. “You wouldn’t want to get burned.”

Daring froze, her hoof still hovering near the golden key around his neck. She glanced up to find him watching her, his smirk as sharp as a blade.

“Burned?” she said, feigning innocence as she slowly withdrew her hoof. “What do you mean?”

The prince chuckled, pushing himself away from the railing with a casual grace. “Come now, my lady. A pony like you doesn’t end up at a ball like this without a reason.”

“I could say the same about you,” Daring quipped, masking her nerves with a wry smile.

“Touché,” he replied, pacing slowly around her. “But you’re different. The way you hold yourself—poised, yet ready to bolt at any moment. And your eyes… They’re not here to admire the view or enjoy the festivities.”

Daring’s pulse quickened as he circled her, his tone as calm and measured as a predator stalking its prey.

“So tell me,” he continued, stopping just behind her, his voice dropping to a whisper. “What is it you’re looking for tonight?”

Daring forced herself to laugh lightly, though her muscles tensed. “Would you believe me if I said good conversation and terrible hors d’oeuvres?”

He stepped in front of her, his smirk widening. “I’d believe you if you weren’t so clearly lying.”

Daring’s mind raced. He was testing her—trying to rattle her, make her slip up. She needed to regain control of the conversation before he pried any deeper.

“Fine,” she said with a shrug, her voice dripping with mock exasperation. “You caught me. I came here for the free wine.”

The prince arched an eyebrow. “And the key around my neck? Was that part of the vintage selection?”

Her breath hitched, but she quickly covered it with a laugh. “I’ve got a thing for shiny accessories. Can you blame me?”

His smile didn’t falter, but his eyes grew sharper, more calculating. “Then let’s make it interesting,” he said, reaching into his coat. He pulled out a small, golden chess piece—a knight—and placed it on the railing between them.

“What’s this?” Daring asked, eyeing the piece warily.

“A game,” he said simply. “You seem like the type who enjoys a challenge. So here’s mine: best me in a round of wits, and you can have the key.”

Daring frowned, her instincts screaming that this was a trap. “And if I lose?”

His grin widened. “Then I’ll keep the key… and your company for the rest of the night.”

She narrowed her eyes, the gears in her mind turning. He was toying with her, trying to distract her from her mission—or perhaps draw her into his own game. But what choice did she have? The key was her ticket to stopping Dr. Caballeron’s scheme, and time was running out.

“Fine,” she said, matching his smirk with one of her own. “But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

“Good,” he said, leaning closer. “Neither will I.”

“Why doesn’t she just punch him?” yelled Applebloom. “Then take the key and fly away!”

“Applebloom…” Sweetie Belle whined.

“Because Daring Do’ can totally win a chess game!” Scootaloo rolled her eyes.

“But this guy’s fishy…” sneered Applebloom.

“Well,” Sweetie Belle said, “maybe she likes him?”

“Whuh?-No, Sweetie Belle! Darin’ Do doesn’t do romance!” Applebloom crossed her forelegs.

Scootaloo thought for a second, “What about the first book?” Applebloom’s eyes widened.

“Oh, yes!” Sweetie Belle said dreamily, “I love Ash Ironmane! He’s my favorite!”

“Hey, that was different!” said Applebloom. “They knew each other for a long time before that!-AND he was also an adventurer who could help her out.” Applebloom gave a confident nod. “This guy’s just like that Prince Blueblood guy, probably too worried about gettin’ dirty to go on an adventure!”

“What about that guy from the second book?” said Scootaloo, “He was afraid of getting dirty. And bugs.”

Scootaloo groaned, “Uggh! Velvet was so annoying! I wish that Grogar-guy tore his heart out.”

Sweetie Belle giggled, “Well, maybe Daring Do’ likes weak stallions.”

“All stallions are weak, Sweetie Belle.” Scootaloo said flatly.

A frustrated Applebloom interrupted, “But those were good guys!-And they didn’t start out liking each other—like you and Button Mash, Sweetie Belle.”

“Wow!” Scootaloo had stopped short of getting too personal before, only for Applebloom to do so anyway. Sweetie Belle merely glared, but let it slide because she knew Applebloom was just upset.

“The one time she liked a guy from the start, he turned out to be a fascist and betrayed her! Besides, what makes you think she likes this guy?”

Sweetie Belle was slightly irate, “Because he’s making her blush! That’s what you do when you like somepony.”

“Whuh-? Naw, she’s probably just embarrassed! This guy’s actin’ like Caballeron and sayin’ all this weird stuff like ‘the hunt is on!’-An’ all that.”

“That’s also just what ponies do when they like somepony. It’s called flirting.”

Applebloom cocked her head. “What?”

“Yeah, flirting. Rarity does it all the time. She does it to get stallions to do things for her, even if she doesn’t really like them.”

“Well…then it’s the same here! He just wants something from her, and she wants the key! She’s gonna outsmart him!”

“I just don’t think he’s a villain, Applebloom.” Sweetie Belle asserted, “He has nothing to do with Caballeron. He’s just said he wants to spend the night with her,” Applebloom froze at this, “and he might just give her the key anyway!”

“Oh mah’ gawd…” Sweetie Belle looked over and saw Applebloom looked like she was going to throw up again. “Ah’ just realized what that Prince wants…”

Sweetie crossed over to Applebloom, “What? What does he want?”

Applebloom turned green, she was actually going to throw up, “-*hurk* mah’ grandma!”

Sweetie Belle blinked. “What?”

Applebloom choked it back, her nostrils burned. “Ahem! Ah' mean-uh, Darin’ Do, he-…he wants to sleep with her!”

“Like…sleep in the same bed as her? Like a mom and dad? I guess that’s kinda romantic-”

At this, Scootaloo shook her head. “Oh geez, he wants to MATE with her!”

Both fillies looked at Scootaloo like she blew their dog whistle.

“That’s why all those stallions go crazy for Rarity, it’s not just cause they want to marry her or think she’s pretty, it’s cause they want to-” Scootaloo made an obscene gesture she must’ve learnt overnight, “-because it feels good!”

Scootaloo must’ve also grown a second head, judging by how Sweetie Belle’s eyebrow was trying to dig into her forehead.

“And I guess it must feel good for the mares too—I mean why else would they do it if there’s a chance they’ll have babies?”

“Like mah’ grandma…” Applebloom said dreadfully. Sweetie then redirected her gaze to her.

“Applebloom, I don’t WANT to know about your grandma, okay? Can we just keep reading?”

The other two stayed silent. Scootaloo took that as her cue, “Alright!” she then scanned the page for a few seconds, then turned it to the next one. Then the next one. And again, as she furrowed her brow. “Okay, this chess game is going on really long…I think we can skip this. Okay-”

Finally, with one last daring maneuver, Daring cornered his king. “Checkmate,” she said, smirking as she leaned back.

The prince stared at the board for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Impressive,” he said, his tone genuine. “You’re full of surprises.”

He stood, removing the key from around his neck. But instead of hoofing it over, he held it just out of reach, his eyes glinting with mischief. “One last question before I give you your prize,” he said. “Why were you really after this?”

Daring hesitated, her mind scrambling for an answer. Should she stick to her cover story or risk a half-truth?

The prince held the key aloft, the gold glinting in the soft light of the lanterns. His smirk softened, his tone dipping into something quieter. “Come now, my lady. Tell me—what is it you’re really after tonight?”

Daring felt her pulse quicken as his gaze met hers, steady and unyielding. For a moment, the noise of the ball—the clinking of glasses, the murmur of voices, the lilting music—faded into the background. It was just the two of them, locked in a silent battle of wills.

“I already told you,” she said, tilting her chin up. “I’ve got a weakness for shiny things.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “Shiny things, hmm?” He reached out, brushing his hoof lightly against the golden bangles on her foreleg. “Then you must be feeling quite at home.”

She swallowed hard, but held her ground. “You’re deflecting. Are you going to hand over the key, or are we going to dance around this all night?”

“Why not both?” he murmured, his voice low and warm. He leaned in, so close that she caught a hint of spice in his cologne. “Unless you’re afraid I’ll get too close.”

“Afraid?” she scoffed, though her heart was pounding. “You’re the one playing games, Prince.”

“And you’re playing them just as well,” he said, his eyes glinting. “But there’s something different about this game, isn’t there? Something about you.”

Her breath caught. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?” he said, his tone almost teasing. He moved closer again, the key still dangling from his hoof, tantalizingly close. “Then take it. It’s yours. All you have to do is reach out and grab it.”

Daring’s eyes darted between the key and his face, her mind racing. She could snatch it now, end this charade, and make her escape. But something about the way he was looking at her—like he could see straight through her bravado—made her pause.

“What’s the catch?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

“No catch,” he said, his smile softening. “Just a question.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What kind of question?”

His voice dropped to a near-whisper. “If I asked you to stay, would you?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. Daring felt her heart skip a beat. Was this another trick, another way to throw her off balance? Or was there something real beneath his teasing exterior?

“I…” She hesitated, cursing herself for the crack in her resolve. “You don’t know me, Your Highness.”

“Don’t I?” he said, his expression unreadable. “I think I know you better than you’d like to admit.”

Daring opened her mouth to retort, but no words came. She felt trapped, caught between the mission and the strange pull of the moment. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down—not now, not ever. But the warmth in his gaze was disarming, and for the first time in a long time, she found herself questioning her own instincts.

He reached out, gently taking her hoof in his. “Stay,” he said, his voice barely audible over the music. “Just for tonight.”

Daring stared at him, torn. Part of her wanted to laugh, to brush him off with a witty remark and snatch the key. But another part of her—a part she didn’t fully understand—wanted to take a leap of faith.

“Just for tonight?” she said, tilting her head and letting a hint of a smile play on her lips.

“Just tonight,” the prince murmured, his voice warm and inviting. He raised her hoof to his lips, brushing a soft kiss against it. “The world can wait until morning.”

Daring’s stomach fluttered, but she quickly buried the feeling. “Alright, Your Highness,” she said, her voice light and teasing. “But only if you promise not to step on my hooves.”

Sweetie Belle was like a live-studio audience “Ohhh! It’s happening!” Scootaloo was the only one laughing. Applebloom just turned away.

He laughed, a low and genuine sound, before pulling her into the dance. The music slowed, the crowd thinning as more ponies wandered off to mingle or sip champagne. Daring felt the prince’s hoof settle firmly on her waist, the other guiding hers in a gentle sway.

“You dance well,” he said, his breath warm against her ear.

“Of course I do,” she replied, her tone breezy, though her cheeks burned. “I’ve got more moves than you can imagine.”

Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. How had she never noticed all this innuendo before?

“Of that, I have no doubt,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. His hoof slid slightly lower, resting just above the curve of her hip. “But you don’t need to prove anything to me.”

Daring’s pulse quickened, her mind scrambling for a witty comeback. Instead, she found herself leaning into him, just a fraction, as the music wrapped around them like a cocoon. She glanced up, her eyes catching the soft glow of the lanterns reflecting in his.

“So,” she said, her voice quieter now, “what’s the real reason for this little party of yours?”

“The same as everypony else,” he said, his tone smooth but his eyes sharp. “A celebration, a chance to unwind... and maybe, for once, to share a moment with somepony who isn’t just here for my title.”

“Must be lonely at the top,” she quipped, though her voice lacked its usual bite.

He smiled, a little sadly. “You’d know, wouldn’t you?”

Daring’s steps faltered, but he steadied her, his touch firm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t have to say it,” he said softly. “I can see it. You carry the weight of your world on your shoulders, but even the strongest ponies need a chance to rest.”

For a moment, Daring forgot about the key, forgot about the mission. His words cut through her usual defenses, leaving her feeling exposed in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She looked away, breaking the spell.

“Careful,” she said, her voice wavering. “You’re getting a little too close.”

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. “Isn’t that the point?”

Before she could respond, the prince spun her, pulling her back against his chest in one fluid motion. The sudden closeness made her heart skip a beat. She felt his breath against her mane, the key dangling just inches from her reach.

“Tell me, Daring,” he murmured, his tone a mix of amusement and something deeper. “If this isn’t what you want... why haven’t you walked away?”

Daring’s mind screamed at her to take the key and run, but her body betrayed her, lingering in the moment. She turned her head slightly, their faces close enough that she could see every detail in his piercing gaze.

“Maybe I just like the chase,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

His smile widened. “Then let’s make it a night to remember.”

Applebloom breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Aunt Holiday and Lofty approaching them from across the street. “Hey guys! They’re done!” She got up as they had finished reading the chapter.

Scootaloo then got the jitters, “Ohhh, I gotta know what happens next! I’ll just see what the next chapter is like.”

Sweetie Belle concurred, the Aunts would just have to come to them. She stayed sitting with Scootaloo as she scanned the first page of the next chapter.

Scootaloo didn’t read the next part aloud.

The morning light crept through the ornate curtains, casting golden streaks across the lavish bedroom. Daring stirred, her senses slowly coming alive to the warmth of the silken sheets tangled around her legs. The air was still heavy with the scent of sandalwood and something faintly spicy—his cologne, lingering on her fur like a ghost of the night before.

She glanced over her shoulder, heart pounding, to see the prince still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His mane was tousled, the usual pristine elegance replaced by a rare vulnerability. For a moment, Daring hesitated, her hoof lingering on the edge of the bed.

“Well?” said Sweetie Belle “What’s it say?”

“She woke up in his bed-” Scootaloo stopped herself, her aunts were in earshot. She held the passage closer to Sweetie Belle, “-She woke up in his ‘dungeon’!” She winked at her.

“Oh my, how is Daring Do’ going to get herself out of this one, eh?” Holiday had walked up first, as usual. “Alright, brumby, it’s time to get a move on!”

“Yes, Aunt Holiday!” Scootaloo rose to her feet after Sweetie Belle. She shut the book, but for a moment she stared at the illustrated cover, at Daring Do’, posed with the Prince. Scootaloo never noticed it before, but she looked really…good. They both did.

“You wanna take that home, Sweetie-loo?”

“Wha-?” Scootaloo snapped out of her trance. “Oh! No thanks, I can just borrow it from Twilight later.” She then handed it back to the vendor.

“Well alright!” Holiday said. Lofty then held up the list.

“We got the mushrooms while you girls took your little break,” said Aunt Lofty, “now all we need is the vegetable oil, and Applejack’s orange juice, and then we’re all set!”

They then set off towards the one retail store in Ponyville, Rich’s Barnyard Bargains. There were other places in Equestria, where stores like these ran all the other businesses out of town by virtue of quantity over quality. In Ponyville, there were regulations in place, plus the owner Filthy Rich’s own sense of business ethics, that kept this from happening. No amount of nagging from his wife changed Filthy’s desire for Ponyville to remain the nice little town he always knew it as.

The group was just outside the store when Scootaloo spoke up.

“Hey, I just thought of something,” she said, “is Applejack even gonna be able to eat this? Isn’t it too spicy for her?”

“No, that’s a myth.” Sweetie Belle said, she withdrew the leather book again.

“It says here that-” Sweetie Belle then realized the Aunts were looking at her, “Uh…ponies with, uh…Applejack’s condition, can eat spicy food just fine!” She smiled nervously.

Aunt Holiday stared a hole into Sweetie Belle. “Sweetie Belle…Earlier, you told me you didn’t know what was wrong with Applejack.”

“Umm…” Sweetie stammered, “This is just a book I got to figure out what she might have!”

“Really?” Holiday said incredulously, “Where do you get it? You couldn’t have gotten it at the bookmobile, because you’ve had it ever since we left the house.”

Sweetie Belle could feet herself shrinking under Holiday’s gaze.

“Uh…” Applebloom slid in, “TWILIGHT loaned it to me!”

“Didn’t Zecora know what was wrong with Applejack? Why did you go to Twilight instead of asking her?”

Applebloom blinked.

“Applebloom…” Holiday walked up to her. “What is wrong with Applejack?”

Applebloom’s mouth hung open, she couldn’t think of what to say as Aunt Holiday cast a shadow over the CMC. That was when Lofty suddenly put her hoof on Holiday’s shoulder.

“Uh…Holly?”

Holiday was caught off guard, “What?”

Lofty turned her wife aside, placing herself between Holiday and the fillies. She cupped her snout and whispered to Holiday, “Look, I don’t know everything that’s going on here, but I think I know what’s going on with Applejack! Just wait until you see her this evening, and this will all make sense. For now just drop it, okay?”

Holiday was a bit bewildered. She looked into her wife’s sincere eyes, and despite the right side of her brain demanding an answer, she couldn’t help but trust Lofty. “Uhh-?...okay,” she sighed.

With that they made their way into the store.

“I’m sorry Twilight! I really have to take care of the rats, and I don’t know how long it will take! I’ll check again tomorrow!” Fluttershy flew home, having just told an exasperated Twilight that she couldn’t get ahold of Applejack.

The woods around Fluttershy’s Cottage were a virtual sanctuary for animals, nestled between the quaint charm of Ponyville, and the enigmatic, otherworldly expanse of the Everfree Forest. Everywhere possible, her property was decorated in birdhouses, including inside the cottage itself. Her house was perched on a hill within a copse of trees. Below the hill, a series of enclosures and habitats lined the stream that flowed past her house. The whole area was somewhat messy from the day's commotion, as the animals often forgot their manners when frightened, though Fluttershy was quick to remind them. At times like these, she was thankful for her sturdy chicken coop.

She wished she had reinforced her rabbit hutch similarly. Fluttershy opened the door to her house, then immediately began to hover above a carpet of bunnies. She had surrendered most of the floor to create a large playpen for them. Angel Bunny voiced his displeasure.

“It’s just for a few days, Angel,” she said. “There’s plenty of food for everyone, and they know to bury their ‘hraka’ in the litterbox. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Fluttershy ascended the stairs and Angel followed her. Just adjacent to her bedroom (where the weaker rabbits were staying), there was a dollhouse on a table. She floated up to the house and put her hoof through the door. Suddenly, a bright yellow light shone from the doorway and enveloped her body, then she disappeared.

“Ooh! What about a snowglobe…filled with pepper flakes?” Screwball’s tail morphed into a snapping hand, and in a flash she was standing in a glass dome of swirling red flakes. “AAAAHH!” Her eyes glowed red as she screamed, a mix of agony and unhinged joy.

“Ha ha ha ha ha!” Discord floated in the air and gave a haughty laugh. “Brilliant! Too brilliant for this piddling festival…”

“AAAAHH-! Thanks, daddy! I think this could really get people-I mean, ponies to like me!”

“Eh? Is THAT the reason you’re doing this?” Discord murmured. “Just so ponies will like you?”

“Well no, it’s ‘cause my ideas are AWESOME and I wanna show them off. People liking me is just a bonus…”

“Okay…” Discord turned away and scratched his chin with his eagle claw. “I just want to be sure you’re not making a bunch of fair-weather friends, is all.”

Screwball looked up at him, “What’s a ‘fair-weather friend’?”

“A fair-weather friend…” he snapped his fingers, and then they were side-by-side on a picturesque field, “is somepony who’s there for you in the good times, when everything is sunny and going fine!”

“Oh, well that sounds good-!”

“Ah-ah-ah! I haven’t finished,” he snapped again, and they were now in the middle of a storm. “-But when the weather turns and things look ugly…”

They looked out and saw a house, the windows glowed with a warm inner light. The stall door opened and peeking out was a curly haired ginger filly. For a moment, Screwy’s pleading eyes seemed to provoke her sympathy, but then a stallion's voice came from inside the house, “Sweetie, close that door please!” She looked back at Screwy and gave her sorrowful look before closing the door.

“-They won’t even let you in.” Discord continued. He then lifted the weather and they were left standing in a puddle that stretched to the horizon. Screwball looked down at her reflection. “And the fact is, even if Celestia’s made things really ‘harmonious’ in Equestria, most creatures are still like that deep down. There’s just a lot of ‘good weather’ in Equestria, so to speak.”

“Twist isn’t like that,” said Screwball, “Applebloom said they just stopped hanging out because she didn’t feel like she fit in.”

“Well I wouldn’t know,” Discord shrugged, “I only watched that episode, like, once-Look it doesn’t matter! My point is, just be careful putting too much stock in being liked. It’s like I said before…”

“‘The only ones who matter’,” Screwball recited, “‘are those who are with you at the end of the day’...”

“And if you’re not doing anypony no harm, don’t worry about what anypony else thinks! Don’t let them get you down,” Discord then drew a smile on both their faces, making Screwball giggle, “and don’t let them see they get you down. Okay?”

Screwball said giggling, “Okay, Daddy!” He hugged her tightly into his chest.

The illusion completely faded as a golden light appeared before them. The snowglobe was standing in the living room of a pastel colored, colonial-style house. The orb lowered to the floor and grew out into the shape of a pegasus with a long mane. Fluttershy had appeared in the foyer.

“Why hello, Mr. Discord! So nice to see you showing affection.” Discord hastily let go of his daughter, and teleported them out of the snowglobe.

“Hi mama!” Screwball flew up to her, “So, is Applejack pregnant?”

Fluttershy’s eyes went wide, as did Discord’s. She gave him a nervous smile and addressed Screwball, “I don’t know yet sweetie, I didn’t see her, but let’s try not to spread around rumors, okay? If Applejack wants ponies to know that, she’ll tell them.”

“That she has an apple in the oven?” Discord laughed. “That would be news to me. I mean, isn’t she…?” Discord wiggled his hand.

Fluttershy composed herself, “Applejack-…is Applejack. Even if she doesn’t have a label for herself, we can’t give her one. Now-” she then looked at the snowglobe, “-what do we have here?”

Screwy smiled. “It’s a spice-globe!” She then teleported back inside and started scream-laughing again.

“Are you sure that follows the safety guidelines?”

“AAAAH-There’s a pepper sack race, mama.” Screwy teleported out of the globe again. “I tried out the pepper dunk tank too, and the only difference is you do that to somepony else! Do you know how much it hurts having pepper stuff on your privates?” Fluttershy averted her eyes as Screwy tried to show her what she was talking about.

“Uh, kiddo,” Discord cut in, “they’re not really ‘privates’ if anypony can see them when you stand up.” He pushed her back to her hooves. “Really nopony has privates unless you wear pants. Or if you’re me! Nopony has ever even seen my privates!”

Discord wriggled and contorted his body, sending Screwball into a giggling fit, “They’re the most private privates to have ever been kept private!”

Fluttershy looked him up and down and blushed for a second, but quickly shook it off. “Well, if Twilight thinks it’s okay then I guess it’s fine. But now it’s time for us to go, Screwball.”

“Oh, yeah I forgot!” Screwball got up and sprouted an oversized deerstalker hat and two-barreled shotgun. “We’re going hunting! Bye daddy!”

“Just wait outside for a second Screwy,” Screwball awkwardly waddled to the door, “I want to check in with Mr. Discord for a bit.”

Screwy stopped for a second and turned around, “But why do I need to leave for tha-” Fluttershy gave her a look, “-Okay! Bye Daddy!” She touched the doorhandle and was transported away.

Fluttershy and Discord were now alone in the dollhouse. There was a long silence.

At length, Discord spoke. “So, ‘Miss’ Fluttershy…”

“Sorry Discord, I didn’t mean to be cold. I just don’t want her to get the wrong idea…again.”

“It’s fine-it’s just a little weird.” Fluttershy raised an eyebrow, He’s never said “weird” like it’s a bad thing before! “You know if you asked me, I would’ve helped with the shield. No tricks.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t like the precedent it would set if people started coming to you for things.”

“Oh, but you’re okay with that happening for Screwball?” he said indignantly.

“She did it in exchange for something else, and this is a great chance for her to express herself! Besides, would you honestly have been happy answering to Twilight?”

“Oh, heavens no! But you could’ve at least asked!” he pouted.

“And you’d have just been offended and said no.” Fluttershy said pointedly. “A good friend knows their friends’ likes and dislikes. Also, well...sorry to bring this up, but I heard from Celestia that you used to do stuff like this for her and-”

“No-no-no! You’re right.” He sighed. “Too many bad memories…”

Fluttershy took his lion paw in her hooves. “Hey,” he looked into her puppy-dog eyes, “things will get better someday, you just need to give it time.”

He moved his claw to return her touch, but suddenly there was a great explosion outside. The house shook and Discord toppled over on Fluttershy.

Fluttershy lifted her head, “What was that?”

“Romantic cliché number-five?” Discord said. Fluttershy got to her hooves and he followed her to the door. “Actually, who am I kidding? That was cliché number one!”

Fluttershy reappeared outside the dollhouse just as another explosion blew her hair back. Discord’s head popped out of the chimney. They turned and saw Screwball at the head of the stairs, loading the shotgun as a concerned Angel stood in front of her.

She swung it around at him, “Stand still, you wascally wabbit!”

“NO!” Discord wrenched the shotgun away from her just as it let off a shot between Angel’s ears, leaving a large hole in the ceiling.

“Screwball!” The stare was on full display.

Screwball pulled her tall hat down over her body and whimpered. “I’m sorry mama! I didn’t mean to do it, I swear!”

“Screwy…” Discord tapped her on the shoulder. Screwball looked up, shaking like a chihuahua as he arched over her and spoke in a calm voice. “I better not catch you playing with these Earth toys ever again, young lady. Because if I do, I am gonna give you SUCH a pinch!-Do you understand me?”

The earth filly started to tear up, then shook her head.

“Now look mama-I mean...‘Miss Fluttershy’ in the eye.” Discord stepped aside to reveal the glowering pegasus.

“Never again!”

Screwball sniffed, “Yes mama…”

Fluttershy then eased up on her Stare. Discord chucked the shotgun into one of his portals, then rubbed his hands together. “Alright then, let me just patch up those holes.” He snapped his fingers and they disappeared. “Do you want me to do your rabbit hutch as well? I can make it bigger, better!”

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself Discord! I’ll get plenty of money from the city for repairs. I wanna give those carpenters some business after all.”

Angel lowered his ears.

“Come on Screwy.” Fluttershy walked down the stairs, followed sheepishly by Screwball. “I’m locking the door, Discord. See you later!”

Discord detached his left arm, and waved them goodbye with his right. “Arrivederci!” He then noticed Angel standing right beside him on the steps.

“Oops!” he pushed him, and Angel fell to the floor covered in wild rabbits.

“Have fun with your little friends down there!” Discord called, then he disappeared with a snap

Angel just sat in the middle of the floor, dejectedly. Another rabbit began to invade his personal space, so he snarled and unleashed a flurry of furious slaps.

Author's Note

This chapter was a pain to write for so many reasons.

I had to make it so Fluttershy didn't single-handedly resolve the conflict, devise some way to keep Pinkie committed to her impulsive party-planning and Twilight busy keeping her under control, I got the worst case of writer's block trying to think of stuff for the market scene, and I had to write even more Zecora rhymes.

On the plus side, thanks to this long break I've been able to figure out how I'll be using certain characters and storylines for later, and introduced some new elements, such as the Daring Do' excerpts, that I'll be reincorporating into later chapters.