The bustle of the party had gotten to her, finally. Even in a corner, it was exhausting. Ponies were exhausting; she had no idea how Celestia did it all for hours at a time. It was like she enjoyed it.

Stepping out from the noise and heat into the cool night air was just so much more… whatever the opposite of another tiring social function was. And, surprisingly, there he was, his back turned to her as he stared out over the balcony at the stars.

She supposed she could handle one more little social call. He did owe it to her after all, given his earlier prank.

“I am surprised that after such a performance that you did not continue to be the center of attention,” she said, speaking up.

The Fool jumped (jingling slightly in the process), turning around at the sound of her voice before his initial surprised expression was replaced with a mask of cool amusement.

“Ah, well, Your Highness, we Fools have often found that nobility is like a poached egg: the best practice requires heat, but not too much, lest it turn out less than perfect.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “One would think that a Fool would make it their job to keep his audience entertained throughout the night.”

The Fool grinned back. “Aye. But a Royal Fool knows that anticipation is its own form of entertainment,” he dropped the confident expression for a moment, relaxing into something that seemed to be more sincere, at least to Luna. “Also if I’m being honest, I wanted to give the fire-eaters a chance, they’ve put a lot of work into their act.”

“They are… friends of yours?”

He nodded. “My colleagues at the newly enroyaled Equestrian Royal College for Comedy. They’re good ponies.”

“Indeed? You would ignore a chance at recognition if it meant depriving your friends of the spotlight. That is quite noble.”

“Well I can’t exactly repeat the trick right now,” he reached into his vest with an exaggerated motion, showcasing the deliberate emptiness. “I only baked the two pies.”

“You were the one that made those, truly?” Luna was impressed. “Perhaps you should have applied to be a royal chef. You are a stallion of many gifts.”

He laughed. “It’s my brother’s recipe, to tell the truth. He’s the baker in the family, for me it’s just a hobby.”

“A shame, I believe the position of royal chef pays much better than that of the royal fool. And my sister would be quite appreciative of a good baker.”

“I’m not in it for the bits, Your Highness,” the fool scratched behind his head, getting a bit quiet. “And to be honest, your sister seems… rather intimidating.”

“You do not find me similarly terrifying?”

“Not at all! You’re quite…” The fool paused, failing to meet her gaze. “You’re quite approachable, Your Highness.”

Both paused there, awkwardly. Was he blushing? It was hard to tell under his makeup. A concept of a plan forming, Luna smirked. “Come.”

“Your Highness?”

“I wish to take a nightly stroll through the gardens, and a princess requires an escort, does she not?”

“I—”

“I have a bottle of champagne with me,” she levitated the smuggled flask over. “I had hoped to retire to my chambers alone with it, but I suppose a Princess of Equestria would be a poor host if she did not offer to libate her chaperone, would she not?”

The Fool relaxed, offering a hoof. “I suppose not. Shall we, Your Highness?”

She took his hoof with her wing. “We shall, allow me.”

They wound through the gardens slowly, silently. From time to time, Luna would glance over, catching the Fool watching her, but he’d always look back, no doubt hoping to appear like he was appreciating something else.

Quite curious indeed. Eventually, they made their way to a grove in the center, where Luna finally leaned against a small fence. Her horn glowed, and with a flash two champagne flutes appeared.

“A teleportation spell. The party won’t miss them,” she clarified in response to the Fool’s raised eyebrow, pouring out the drinks for each of them.

“Quite a useful thing, magic,” he sipped the champagne casually. “Very… magical.”

“Your own abilities are quite something in and of themselves, Royal Fool.”

“Most of what I do is just down to practice,” he thought for a moment. “That and the right materials.”

The princess tilted her head curiously. “May I see your balls? I’ve been quite curious about them.”

The fool nearly spat out his drink, opting instead to go into a coughing fit.

“Did I say something wrong?” She asked innocently.

“Nothing, nothing!” He waved a hoof, still coughing as he reached into his vest for a few of them. “You’re welcome to take a look.”

She nodded, handling them with what might be an undeserved reverence. But Starswirl had often impressed upon her the importance of an artist’s tools. If care needed to be taken around an archmage’s amulets, a master juggler’s balls were no doubt the same, no?

“Abyssinian rubber,” she praised. “Quite a rare thing this far west. Does this impart some sort of arcane property that allows it to rise and fall like it does?”

“Oh, you recognize it?” The Fool’s face lit up. “Not many ponies would have an eye for materials like that, Princess.”

“Chemistry and material sciences are a bit of a ‘hobby’ of mine,” she blushed a bit. “Most of the court would find it unseemingly to be participating in them however.”

“Then they’re bigger fools than I am,” he grinned. “But to answer your question, it doesn’t really make juggling it easier, it’s more that abyssinian rubber has a specific feel and give to it. It helps me keep track of them, when I’m juggling the balls move too fast for me to pick them out by sight alone.”

Luna’s ears perked up. “Material and weight as a form of mental cataloguing? That is wonderful! You would still have to teach yourself the basic properties of each ball though.”

“And that’s where the practice comes in. And studying, a lot of studying,” he smiled a bit.

“You’re quite the scholar, Fool.”

“I could say the same to you, your majesty, few ponies would recognize Abyssinian rubber at a glance,” the Fool gave an exaggerated, jingly bow, before taking another sip from his glass.

“And you’re quite a change from the first Royal Fool. Jolly as he was, Big Top often seemed like a pony on the stage, not a pony one could talk to.”

“Professor Top’s a consummate professional, unlike myself,” he said, continuing to sip. “I believe I am a bit of a scoundrel, all things considered.”

“Well, if the company of scoundrels is always as pleasant as this, perhaps I should let you creampie me more often and— Did I say something wrong again?”

In an effort not to spit his champagne across the gardens (and further than that even, seeing as he was a trained clown and could spit very far), the Fool had opted instead to be reduced to a coughing fit, liquid dripping across his muzzle as he failed to keep his composure. Was she listening to herself?

“No, no. Merely a bit of liquid down the wrong tube, so to speak. I’m quite fine princess, really.” He went crosseyed as he looked at his dripping paint. “Though I wish I could say the same about my poor face.”

“Your… face?” Luna raised an eyebrow, confused.

“My makeup, Your Highness. Sadly, with my coat the only paints one can get don’t seal well, and I haven’t brought any backup material to reapply it,” he grimaced, reaching to wipe it off. “Thank the stars I’ve already graduated, losing one’s face is a grand faux pas for a Fool.”

“Allow me,” she apologized, conjuring a cloth before wrapping it in a bubble of summoned water, dampening it and handing it over to him. He nodded his thanks, plunging his face into the towel and wiping off the rest of the paint before handing it back.

Now Luna could finally get a clear look at his face under all that paint and…

She could feel her cheeks getting hot. He was quite attractive, in his own way. For all his jingliness, he came off more like a handsome, youthful scholar, than a clown.

“You know,” she composed herself, “I do believe I have not had the honor of learning your name, Fool.”

He smiled, sincerity shining through, going into another exaggerated bow. “Peritwinkle, Your Highness. Youngest son of Indiglow and Amber Aegis.”

“Arise then, Peritwinkle,” she then paused, thinking back to a few courtly lessons she had sat through, a rare class that she found all too boring. “Indiglow? The name seems familiar, is he not a lord?”

Peritwinkle shuffled nervously. “Of recent ascent, Your Highness. To tell the truth, earth ponies don’t put as much stock in noble titles as unicorns or even pegasi do. I believe it was Starswirl the Bearded’s idea to ease tensions between the tribes.”

“And has it succeeded?”

“I have no idea, they’re courtiers, mind, and don’t see much point in all the ‘pomp and circumstance’ as they put it,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I think they’d be a bit furious to know I was the Royal Fool now.”

She sat there for a moment, then began to giggle, which descended into a full blown laughing fit.

“Oh my,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “Quite an ironic situation. I hope you broke the news to them gently.”

She looked over, to find the fool not laughing along with her. He merely watched her, light blue cheeks blushing a nice bright red in response to her laugh.

Ah. There it was.

Author's Note

And back in time, once again.

Thanks to Trolleytrainer for the proofread.